#But it follows his pattern. He will give of himself without a second thought. He will accept consequences.

[stardustedknuckles]

Eh. Vax's rot feels less like a punishment from the Raven Queen and more like a byproduct of fucking with fate, by which I mean there's certainly something he can do about it. It'll probably bring him closer to the Matron.

If we hadn't seen downfall, if someone besides the cast were writing this show, I would be worried. But the Matron loves Vax for his impetuousness and the way he will take any risk for the ones he loves. As pike also pointed out, they're not supposed to serve blindly. To go against the will of the gods is to be mortal. If the Raven Queen is warning him, it's not because she's the one doling out punishments. She HAS to stick to her role and HAS to keep the sanctity of the transition from life to death. Vax violated that and knew he was doing it and that something would happen. He might think right now that he's being punished, that the Matron could or should have just let it happen, but she really, really couldn't (and honestly he's not even mad at her. He's accepted that something must happen. We don't even know if he blames her, but I don't think he does). The part of the Raven Queen who understands is alive and well in her. The part of her allowed to bend rules and defy the order of creation died the day she ascended. The gods do not have freedom in the same way as mortals. Power, yes. But that in and of itself binds them to their stations.

We have to remember that the Raven Queen in tlovm is in fact the same one we've met in the campaigns. She is cold, and she will play her part as she is bound to do. She has little in the way of grace to offer because the entire balance of the world depends on her upholding her station.

Anyway. That rot will either be reversed or it will play into the whole deal about Vax being able to help his friends when he should be dead for a final time. But I don't think hinting at revenant Vax is a punishment. It's a consequence. And Vax accepts it whether it comes from her or not.

[monamipencil]

— debauched | ft. stepbro! mingyu

⋆ pairings; mingyu x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut ⋆ w.c; 4.5k+ ⋆ warnings; stepbrother! mingyu, gyu wears glasses (yes this is a warning), debauchery, oral (f.receiving), mate press, raw sex, creampie, dubcon, fucking while parents are in the room, fingering, handjob, pussy slapping, jealousy, mingyu is kinda toxic, panty stealing, somnophilia, spitting kink, exhibitionism, doggy, choking, public indecency, mentions of food ⋆ a/n; im so sorry for this monstrosity. i was possessed and i refuse to do damage control 😌 (thanks to @miabebe for assisting my lunacy and giving me ideas lol.)

“fuck, you can't do this to me.”

“i can't do what to you?” you question your step-brother as he follows you into the bathroom. you don't mind it and grab your toothbrush and the paste.

“this,” he gestures towards you, more specifically the nightwear you're wearing. a cute cropped tank top with a matching pair of underwear. it's patterned with little flower prints and lined with lace.

“i'm not doing anything. not my fault you're a horn dog.”

you don't entertain him any more and brush your teeth. and neither does he, opting to grind himself on you. his hard-on presses on your ass and his hands wander all over you, skating over your skin with experienced expertise.

you give into his wishes and bend over a bit while going on with your night routine. his calloused hands slip under your top, and squeeze your tits. your nipples pebble under his touch, complying to his wishes just the same. he pinches the buds with urgency, just the way his hips grind on yours.

without much reaction, you continue brushing. but your body is growing hot with every second, and the need to have him inside you is insatiable. you wish your dad never married his mom for various reasons, and this is one of them.

“y'smell so good.” he slurs, sniffing your neck like a hound dog. his tongue traces your jugular, tasting your sweet perspiration. one of his hands travel down south, toying with hem of your panty—

knock, knock.

mingyu throws himself off you, startled by whomever was on the outside.

“honey, are you in there?” your dad's voice resonates through the door and you give him a gargled ‘yes.’ he wishes you a good night and walks off.

mingyu takes it as a cue to use the other door, connected to his bedroom and enters it. through the closed door, you hear dad checking upon him before he walks away again.

with a sigh, you rinse your mouth. and an examination of your panty reveals a soaked patch staining it. with annoyance and longing in the mix, you discard the cloth into the laundry hamper.

[ ... ]

the creak of the floorboards stir you awake and your eyes fall on a figure standing in front of you. startled, you turn on the lights and scramble to protect yourself.

only to be met with the sight of mingyu, holding your panty to his nose as he squeezes himself through his grey sweatpants. the outline of his cock is visible through the cloth. your mouth salivates and your eyes snap up to his. his dark eyes look down at you through his glasses, the depravity of his thoughts seen through his gaze.

mingyu doesn't say anything and hooks his hand underneath your knees and pulls you to the edge of the bed. in one swift go, your panties are gone, causing you to yelp in surprise. feeling shy with the sudden exposure, you close your legs.

he moves to your wardrobe, quickly retrieving a tie from there.

“gyu, no.” you warn but he doesn't listen. despite your protests, he ties up your hands behind your back. you sigh in defeat, “but you should stop when i tell you to.”

“i know.” his deep voice sends a frenzy in your stomach and your legs part on their own.

he licks your lips, invading them with ease. his boner prods your thighs as he makes out with you. you cant your hips, chasing some of that delicious friction. mingyu tuts in response and looks down to where you're desperately grinding against him.

he descends down, skating his lips and teeth over the skin of your neck and torso. warm breath greets your sensitive skin that's coated with arousal. he kisses the plump flesh of your thighs, ghosting his canines over them.

he slowly reaches your core and gives it a kitten lick. you whine, and buck your hips up. flame licks your skin and the lewdness of the situation makes you desperate.

when his lips meet your cunt, it's unexpected. a loud gasp tears from your lips at the force of it. he places an open mouth kiss to your heat and his hands force your legs as apart as possible.

his tongue glides over your cunt, licking up your arousal. it's nothing soft or sweet, only rough and desperate. he sucks and slurps on your whole, sending waves of pleasure through your body. he shakes his head side to side, tongue prodding at your folds.

it's impossible to contain your moans but you try your best. the cold plastic of his glasses kiss your skin whenever you try to close your legs. he eats you out like a starved dog.

your hole clenches around nothing and mingyu fills it with his tongue. he pushes his tongue in and out of you, the wet sounds of which fills the room. the sensation causes your hips to buck up into his face.

“ah!” you moan, loudly. you just don't find it in yourself to care anymore when he thumbs your clit. he pulls away, a string of spit connecting his lips to your cunt. you look down to find him staring at you over his fogged up glasses. it slid down, letting you see his eyes uncovered.

he spits on your cunt, the warm glob drips down your folds as he maintains eye contact with you. he licks up a large stripe, savoring your taste on his tongue. his tongue prods at your hole again and he fills you up. but this time, it's slower.

your gummy walls clench around his tongue, overstimulated by his thumb on your clit. your moans echo through the room again and a knot builds in your stomach. mingyu picks up his pace, returning to slurping your cunt.

the knot gets tighter and tighter, till it breaks, leaving you a babbling and trembling mess. you black out from the intensity of the orgasm and your moans cease.

mingyu licks up your climax, not wasting a drop of it. with a final kiss to your clit, he pulls away. as much as he wants to split you open on his cock now, he can't. he respects your wishes but that doesn't stop him from leaving a present for you.

he pumps his twitching cock to the sight of you. it doesn't even take a minute till he's moaning your name and spilling his seed on your thighs and stomach. he wants to finish inside you and see his load spill out of your pretty lips but he decides it for another day.

squelch.

you shift.

more wet squelches resonate from beneath the blanket you're sharing with your stepbrother. your lips shudder as you release a sharp breath.

a family movie night. it was what it was supposed to be. that is, till your parents fell asleep and mingyu sneaked his hand inside your shorts as you both sit on the couch.

two of his fingers are buried up to the hilt in your cunt, slowly drilling in and out of you. but it isn't enough and you want more, need more. your hands venture to find his cock beneath his pants. he simply spares you a glance before focusing on the movie again.

with a cautious glance to your dad and his mom, you tilt your head, pressing small kisses to his neck. his adam's apple bobs when you lick the column of his throat.

your hand finds his hardness beneath his underwear. wrapping your hand around the base, you pump him slowly. when your hand glides up to his tip, you rub your thumb over it, smearing the pre cum all over. a low hiss fills your ear and you smirk as he bucks into your hand.

you continue to kiss and bite his tan skin. his breathing turns sporadic, abdomen clenching with restraint. you're caught off-guard when he picks up his pace and curls his fingers against your sweet spot. you gasp, and clench around him.

“look at the tv.” he teethes your earlobe, hot breath ghosting over your neck. goosebumps prickle all over your skin when his canines brush against your skin.

“you both still awake?” the voice startles you and you try to remove your hand from beneath his pants but mingyu stops you. he wraps his other hand over yours, and guides in pumping his cock.

“yeah, we're gonna finish it.” he answers his mom who searches for her glasses while mingyu adjusts the blanket. when she puts it on, everything seems fine and well. she smiles at you both and wakes up your father to move him to the bedroom.

all while mingyu's jerking himself off with your hand and curling his fingers against your sweet spot. she wishes a goodnight, and you respond in unison. the moment her bedroom door locks, he pulls the blanket off.

your clothes along with his joins the blanket on the couch. he relaxes on the couch and makes you straddle him. his cock pokes your cunt, twitching with need. his hands perch on your hips as he guides you slowly down his cock.

“fuck,” he groans, seeing his cock disappear into your cunt.

you take purchase on his shoulders while preparing to ride him. broken moans fall from his lips as you start to bounce. his hands slide down to your ass, and he gropes and massages them.

in a hope to tone down his moans, he connects his lips to yours. tongue meets tongue as your moans mix together, creating a lewd symphony. your thighs slap against his and your arousal drips down his cock to his balls.

his cock splits you open deliciously. the swollen tip hits all the right spots with precision. he fits perfectly with you, like two puzzle pieces. the kiss turns sloppy and messy. your tongue glides over his and your spit mixes with his. you taste his lewd noises on your tongue, a fuel to ride him with more energy.

your pulse beats in your cunt, and you're clenching around him in no time. mingyu does his best and meets your hips with urgency. his lips wrap around your pebbled nipple, sucking with a fervor.

soon, only his hips are moving as he holds you still against him. his strong arms wrap around you, hips drilling into yours every millisecond. but his thighs tremble, giving away his approaching orgasm.

his movements turn sloppy and his moans louder. awareness seeps into your mind when you realise you both could be caught easily. somehow, it only arouses you further. you move against him desperately, feeling his cock kiss all the right places.

you grind against him, chasing friction. sensing your neediness, he slips his hand between your bodies. his thumb circles your clit and he takes your nipple into his mouth again. your nerves fire up, overwhelmed by the attention on your body.

your cunt clenches around his twitching cock. he whines your name with more urgency and you do the same. “fuck, mingyu.”

the orgasm washes over you with an intensity that makes you quiver in his hold. with you wildly clenching around him, he meets his climax as well. he doesn't pull out and warm ribbons of cum spill inside you.

“mingyu!” you gasp in shock but he shushes you with a kiss. his tongue slips past your lips, eager to suck on yours. he holds you still and empties his load inside you. your initial protest melts away as lust seeps into your skin again.

you feel so dirty but so, so good.

mingyu shuts the tv off and picks up the clothes, all while staying inside you. a surprised gasp falls from your lips when he picks you up and walks to his room. there, you fall asleep in his arms with his cock still buried deep inside you.

mingyu's vision turns green when he sees you laughing and chatting with your guy ‘friend.’ since when did you invite your guy friends to dinners at home?

he makes sure that he does not like that guy. didn't even bother learning his name. a seat draws abruptly and four pairs of eyes settle on mingyu. “dessert anyone?”

all except your dad agrees. “wait, take your sister with you. i don't want any broken dishes tonight.”

he doesn't spare you a glance and walks to the pantry. you follow him to choose whatever fits your appetite. maybe, you should've known better than to stay in a room alone with mingyu.

the moment the pantry door is shut, he's all over you.

“mingyu—stop, others are out there.” you gasp, feeling him shift his entire weight on you.

a low scoff resonates from his chest, “you didn't care about others during our parent's wedding.”

the recall of the memory sets your nerves on fire. fuck. of course, he pulled that card.

there's no use in resisting him. especially when your body is screaming at you to submit to him. his hands itch to tear off the pretty dress you're wearing, but he decided against it.

instead, he lifts up your dress and yanks down your pretty matching underwear. a condescending chuckle resonates from his throat, “you sure you just brought him over for dinner?”

his eyes turn a shade deeper when a thought strikes him.

“or, did you already fuck him?”

his tone sends a wave of arousal through your body. you felt like a prey being cornered by a predator. his gaze is animalistic as he looks down at you, his glasses slipping off his nose once again.

“no, no! we didn't-i didn'—”

you're cut off when he slots his lips on yours. that alone is enough to elicit a moan from you. “good girl,”

he backs away from you but keeps his hand under your dress, slowly hiking it up further till your glistening pussy greets his eyes. a sadistic grin stretches on his lips as he watches arousal drip from your cunt.

he collects the fluid and smears them on your cheeks and lips, earning a whine from you.

“mingyu, they'll be suspicious if we're gone for too long.”

“and?”

a sharp sting shoots through your core. it takes some seconds for you to realise that he slapped your cunt. your jaw falls slack in shock but mingyu isn't deterred. he looks at you with hooded eyes as he delivers another slap to your cunt.

you're embarrassingly wet now and it drips down your thighs. mingyu licks his fingers before slapping your core again. a few more slaps has you whining and trembling. your cunt only gets more and more wet with each slap.

“you,” slap,

“are,” slap,

“mine.” slap.

he pokes his cheek with his tongue when you don't respond. a tut from his lips brings you back from euphoria and you stare at him with wide eyes. he roughly yanks you closer, one hand on the small of your back while another squeezes your cheek together.

you whine, more needy than ever. he shushes you, brushing his thumb over your lip. “it's ok, i can forgi—”

“spit in my mouth.”

he takes a few seconds to decipher what you said, so you repeat it. with more desperation. “mingyuu, spit in my mouth. please!”

smugness fills his veins, and he's more than happy to oblige. he collects his saliva and spits it in your mouth when you push your tongue out with your eyes rolled back.

but your bliss is cut short when he places some dessert in your hand, nodding at you to go back. “and, i'm keeping this.” he pockets your panty and follows behind you.

your hand clasps the knob when he delivers a sharp slap to your ass. “fast. you wanna get caught or somethin’?”

you were more than confused when mingyu sent a text that your ‘guy friend’ was waiting at home for you. given that, it's been a week since that dinner incident and you haven't even spoken to your friend since then.

but, you're not confused anymore. not when mingyu has you on all fours, pounding your cunt as your ‘friend’ watches.

your wanton moans sync with the lewd skin slaps. his hands perch on your hips, maneuvering your body to his needs. heavy balls slap against your clit, providing you the utmost pleasure.

the fact that someone else is witnessing this debauchery doesn't bother you. in fact, it arouses you and floods your cunt with wetness. and because your parents are out of town, it gives you the freedom to be as loud as you can.

you arch your back, leaning into all of his touches. his hand ascends to your neck, fingers hooking into your hair. you yelp when he tugs on it, the sharp sting is delicious through your lust haze and you moan louder.

he releases his grip, opting for a painless grip—his fingers wrap around your nape. the other still perches on your hips as he continues to pound you into the next dimension.

much to mingyu's amusement and annoyance, that guy's pumping his cock to the scene in front of him. with a roll of his eyes, he fucks your harder, with more force in his thrusts.

his movements are fluid. anyone can tell that this isn't a first for you both, that you've fucked multiple times before. he lands a slap on your ass, groping and spreading your cheeks.

even though, he's been fucking you straight for the past twenty minutes, he doesn't feel his climax anywhere near. so he arches your back and puts you in a chokehold. his biceps tighten around your neck, veins visible and pulsing with adrenaline.

“fuck! fuck! mingyu, please—” loud, lewd moans fill his ears and he savors each syllable that falls from your lips. it pushes him to fuck you harder and harder, till you completely fall apart in his arms. till your mind melts, and all you can remember is him. only him.

you scream, the orgasm washing over you unexpectedly. you tremble in his hold, sensitive from your climax. but mingyu isn't done. he pushes you onto the mattress and you grip the duvet with the energy left in you.

mingyu abuses your hole, thrusting sharply as his orgasm creeps closer. his balls slap against your clit, aiding in your overstimulation. with another sharp thrust, he cums inside you. a loud groan rumbles from his chest, letting the voyeur in your room know that he's reached his climax.

he pulls out and with that, his load also spills out. mingyu falls on the bed next to you, heaving for breath. another moan resonates in the room, and he lifts his head to look at the guy with a raised eyebrow. ah, right.

with a grin, mingyu walks towards him. although he's smiling, it's anything but friendly.

“listen, if any of this gets out—”

their conversation falls out of your earshot when your stepbrother starts whispering into his ears. but it isn't a mystery that he's threatening him. you don't bother with it much and fall asleep, feeling more spent than ever.

a memory plays out in your dreams, one that feels much more like the latter than the former.

[THE DAY OF YOUR PARENT'S WEDDING]

you groan out of annoyance and scream into your hands. nothing seems to be working your way today.

the heater doesn't work. your dad is marrying someone else, just six months after the divorce. your cereals were soggy. and, now you can't zip your fucking bridesmaid dress.

a knock on the door refocuses your attention. through the mirror, you see mingyu standing near the door. embarrassment shoots through your veins but you feign a smile and turn to look at him. before both of you can exchange words, his mother comes up.

“hi dear! oh, you look absolutely lovely.” she smiles at you, a genuine one. but you don't feel it in you to reciprocate it. you muster up your best smile and thank her, telling her the same.

“aww, thank you. oh, right! mingyu here said that he wanted to speak with you.”

your heart drops down to your stomach. ah, how could you forget your soon-to-be step brother from your list of mishaps? he isn't exactly mean or nice. he just acts as if you don't exist. and it hurts, especially when you feel such an attraction towards him.

you see him protest back, spitting something along the lines of “i never said that,” it worsens your nerves. she snaps at him, giving him a glare and you a smile. your heart palpitates when his mother closes the door and locks it.

mingyu doesn't say anything, instead takes time to compose himself. meanwhile, you contemplate on how to zip up your dress without further embarra— “need help with the zipper?”

“huh? ye-yes.” well, shit.

he stalks towards you and you turn around, involuntarily. you move your hair out of the way for him. he places one of his hands on the exposed skin of your neck and the other zips up your dress, albeit slowly.

and you swear on god that he caresses your skin while doing so. but you sum it up to your horny brain playing tricks on you. “thank you,” you whisper, meeting his eyes through the mirror.

“you're welcome.” his deep timbre voice shoots arousal down to your core and your body raises in temperature.

he inhales sharply before muttering, “mom wants me to get along with you.”

“but i don't want to.”

it stings. more than you'd like to admit. he continues, not giving you a chance to respond. “i don't want them to marry. i suppose you don't either. and i certainly don't want to follow whatever fucking rules they say.”

his eyes are trained on you the entire time, and you maintain it. even though, your nerves are all over the place and you're trying really hard to focus on his eyes and not lips.

“we could be good friends,” he suddenly moves closer. much closer. his body presses against yours and his hands settle on your hips. his chin rests on your shoulder and he maintains eye contact through the mirror. “only, if you can obey somethings.”

that tingles your stomach and you're more than intrigued to know what he means.

“like what?”

he smirks and breaks eye contact to look at you, rather than your reflection. “like that i'd rather be your fuckbuddy than your stepbrother.”

mingyu's heart paces on its own and he prays to god that he didn't hallucinate the way you look at him sometimes. where your eyes drift and the emotion swirling behind them. his assumptions are affirmed true when you arch your back, pressing your ass against his crotch.

he tries to control his smile and maintain his image to you. which proves to be very hard when you whine so cutely, “oh, fuck me.”

the zipper he'd just done comes undone as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses all over your nape and the exposed skin of your back. he presses his hard-on against your ass, feeling his cock sink into the plush flesh of—

“you both have better made friends!”

he pushes away from you, but not before he zips your dress. he fixes his suit, and you pat down the perspiration on your face. she unlocks the door and smiles at you both.

“look at you both! aww,” she engulfs you both in a hug, and you pray to god she doesn't feel your palpitating heart.

[...]

the elevator dings open and whoever was on the other side lets out a surprised noise and scrambles away. but you don't give a fuck neither does mingyu.

his tongue glides over yours in a hot, deep kiss, such that your faces are obscured to anyone who can stumble upon you. the heat of his body seeps into you, driving you absolutely crazy.

the elevator dings again, the automated doors opening to the floor of your room. his hands are all over your body and so are his lips. he nibbles on your ear lobe and neck, licking the patches of red he leaves behind.

you swipe the key card with much effort and finally get in. mingyu pins you to the door as soon as you get in, grinding his hard on against your stomach. he reconnects his lips with yours, humming in content.

the bed creaks with each of his thrusts. surely, there would be complaints from the neighbors but could care less about everything else. your mind can only focus on mingyu's cock drilling in and out of you.

mingyu's addicted to the image of you writhing in pleasure, underneath him. and the bulge of his cock that appears whenever he thrusts does little to soothe aching desire.

his balls slap your ass with each heavy thrust. your breaths mingle together as he splits you open on his cock. his canines ghost over your neck, and he sinks them into your skin, wanting to see how it looks. how you'd look with his mark.

you look perfect, he thinks, absolutely drunk on the idea of making you his.

it pushes him to fuck you harder. he pushes your knees on either side of your head, drilling his cock inside you deeper and deeper. your moans turn into screams with the drive of his cock. his leaking cock is buried to the hilt, hitting your sweet, spongy spot now and then.

you lose the ability to form coherent sources. only babbles and whines fall from your lips, absolutely drunk by his cock. mingyu adds to it by reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. the delicious friction has you mewling and canting your hips.

your nails rake his back as he continues to pound your cunt with all of his strength. that combined with the clit stimulation makes you sob and squirm underneath him. your legs quiver and toes curl. your breathing turns rapid and the knot in your abdomen gets tighter.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!”

he presses your knees further down, fucking you with much ardour. tears stream down your face and broken sobs tear from your throat. mingyu licks your tears, and stares at you, drinking the sight beneath him. his cock twitches when you look up at him, “shit.”

your hips lift off the bed and legs tremble more than ever. you gasp loudly when you cum. the orgasm crashes over you, making your body a quivering mess. you see stars and you feel as if you're not on earth anymore, as if you're in heaven. mingyu brought heaven down to you.

you only realise that he pulled out when you feel his weight on your body. his body quivers just the same as yours, breathing rapidly and consciousness in another dimension. he rolls off you, lying on the spot next to you.

warm cum decorates your abdomen and it feels so right but so wrong.

“thanks,” you blurt out, regretting it immediately. he chuckles, “for what?”

[NOW]

“everything.” you mumble in your sleep and mingyu glances at you with confusion. you mutter more things and it causes him to chuckle. he pinches your cheek and kisses it.

his hand caresses your back as he cuddles you. it somehow feels right despite the moral restrictions. but he doesn't care, not when you look so peaceful, curled up on his side.

it may be debauched, but it sure as hell is his heaven.

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Hey! Saw your requests are open. If you havent been overwhelmed eith asks I have one for Yandere Shadow if you're interested, if not you're fine!!

What about a Yandere Shadow and Sonic with an S/O who's extremely affectionate and overprotective? BUT, as a twist, They're this way with everyone they care about. They just have a lot of love to give❤️

(Bonus headcanon that Eggman targets them first in fights because his robots literally cant get anywhere near anyone else due to how protective they can be of others. They focus on others so much they forget they might also be targetted)

A/n: idk how long this was in my inbox for

Yandere Shadow/Sonic x Overprotective, Affectionate Reader

Shadow:

Shadow isn't used to the kind of affection you give, not from anyone. He wasnt quite used to affection to mych at all. Not after Maria at least.

You're the type to wrap your arms around people in your life without a second thought, ruffle their hair, or reassure them with kind words whenever they’re feeling down.

At first, he thought this affection was only for him. The way you’d stand beside him in fights, ready to shield him from harm despite your lack of superhuman abilities, left him both confused and, strangely, touched.

But then, Shadow began to notice a pattern.

You weren't just protective of him. You were protective of everyone you cared about. Whether it was Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, or even strangers in trouble, you'd throw yourself into the way to ensure no one got hurt.

Your willingness to put others first was respectable, but it also infuriated Shadow.

Didn’t you realize how reckless it was? Did you think anyone else deserved your warmth and care the way he did?

Shadow tried to reason with himself. He knew your affection was genuine and that your overprotective tendencies came from a place of love.

Still, that jealousy in his chest clawed at him every time he watched you worry and fuss over someone else.

His thoughts turned darker as he began to wonder if maybe he needed to teach you to focus that energy solely on him...

It wasn’t unusual for Eggman to target the people Shadow cared about, but this time, Eggman targeted you first.

Shadow’s blood boiled when he realized why. Your protective nature made you an obstacle to Eggman’s plans, your sheer determination to shield others from harm meant that his robots couldn’t get anywhere near his intended targets. And worse, your focus on others left you vulnerable.

Shadow was livid. Not at you, but at the world. How dare anyone put you in danger?

You were so busy worrying about others that you forgot to worry about yourself. He decided right then and there that he'd do whatever it took to keep you safe, even if that meant keeping you away from everyone else.

In the days that followed, Shadow became even more possessive. He started hovering closer during battles, stepping in before you had the chance to protect someone else. If you tried to shield Sonic or Tails, Shadow would pull you back with a firm grip, glaring at whoever dared to draw your attention.

"You can't keep doing this," he’d say in a stern voice. "You're going to get yourself hurt. Let me handle it."

At home, Shadow became even clingier. He didn't like how much energy you gave to others, so he made it his mission to monopolize your time.

Every moment spent with him was another moment you couldn’t be out there, being with someone else.

Still, he couldn't completely suppress his jealousy. The way you’d light up when hugging someone else made his fists clench.

Your constant reassurances that you had enough love to go around only made him more determined to make you see that he deserved all of it.

"Why do you waste your time on people who can’t protect themselves? They donct deserve what you give them. I'm the one who'll keep you safe, not them"

Sonic:

Sonic's usually not the biggest fan on being the receiving end of affection, but when it comes to you, he loves it. In fact, he thrives on it.

You're always ready with a hug, a playful nudge, or words of encouragement that make his heart race faster than his feet.

At first, he thought you were just that way with him, and he basked in the attention.

But Sonic quickly realized that you didn’t just have love for him. You had love for everyone.

You'd throw yourself in front of Tails to block an incoming attack, fuss over Amy if she got a scratch, or rush to Knuckles aid whenever he bit off more than he could chew.

Your boundless compassion for others left Sonic respecting you even more, but it also left him feeling insecure.

As confident as Sonic was in his abilities, he couldn’t shake the fear that someone else might steal your affection.

He wanted to be the one you turned to, the one you prioritized above all else. But your overprotective tendencies meant that you focused on everyone equally, leaving Sonic craving more of your attention.

Then came the day Eggman decided to target you.

It wasn’t hard to see why. You were a force of nature in your own way, your determination to protect others made you a threat to Eggman’s plans. Sonic’s heart dropped when he realized that Eggman saw you as a liability.

The first time one of Eggman’s robots aimed directly for you, Sonic barely managed to stop the attack in time.

"Hey, what were you thinking?!" he scolded, his voice tinged with panic. "You can't keep throwing yourself in the line of fire like that!"

You brushed off his concerns, he did that stuff all the time, why was it any different?

Sonic wanted to argue, but he couldn't bring himself to. Still, he made a silent vow to protect you, even if it meant protecting you from yourself.

Sonic's jealousy is more subtle than Shadow’s, have to keep up the 'perfect hero' act. He'd crack jokes whenever you doted on someone else, masking his unease with humor. But if someone started to take over your time, Sonic wouldn’t hesitate to intervene, dragging you away with some flimsy excuse.

Despite his possessiveness, Sonic would never stop loving your affectionate nature. It's part of what makes you, you. But he’d do everything in his power to ensure that your love didn’t come at the cost of your safety, even if it meant keeping you closer than you’d like.

[pyrodolls]

will you write more parts for the yandere!fan fic? 🫣

STALKER! YANDERE BOY X GN! READER (PART 2)

WARNINGS: stalking, mentions of murder, regular yandere tendencies, gender neutral reader

A/N: damn that first part did a lot better than i thought it would, thank you guys! so how about i bring in a second yandere… i’m naming this yandere victor, and the yandere in the first part is bayani. (btw the art below is by RIP2_)

part one (with bayani) right here! a third part is coming soon, featuring both bayani and victor when they realize they both are pining for you...

stalker! yandere boy that puts in more effort than superfan! yandere boy to catch your attention. bayani could never love you. he can barely even handle you looking at him, what makes you think he’s the right one for you? he’s just a lowly coward. victor is the one for you. he loves you so much. more than bayani.

stalker! yandere boy that doesn't care about your music. not one bit. because he loves you for you! who cares what your music sounds like? he doesn't care what genre it is, or if you even have a good voice or not. he'd be the best boyfriend for you because he treats you like an actual human, not just some singing machine. besides, he personally prefers metal. maybe he can listen to it with you when you get together! it sounds like a delightful date.

stalker! yandere boy that follows you around wherever you go. he tracks your travelling patterns, and visits whatever places you visit at the exact same time. whether you fly private, commercial, or even use a train or car. doesn't matter. he will follow you. where you go, he goes.

stalker! yandere boy that would go as far as to disguise himself as someone else in order to interact with you and gain your attention. you go eat at a restaurant? victor would kill a random waiter, steal their uniform, and take their place. you stay at a hotel? he's posing as room service and will steal your clothes and belongings tidy up your room! he'll even use the key to your room to walk in and watch you sleep at night. you just look so enchanting in your sleep, how can he resist? it's not wrong, he's just keeping you safe. he is the only one that can make sure you are happy and healthy. in victor's eyes, even the strongest bodyguard cannot keep you safe. you don't need anyone else. just him.

stalker! yandere boy that tries to catch your attention anytime he can. he needs you to notice him. he needs you to say something to him, talk to him, touch him, know him, acknowledge his existence. victor needs you to validate his existence in order to continue living. without you, what would he do? he cannot handle being away from you. he cannot handle being alone. don't leave him alone. don't leave him alone. don't leave him alone. he needs you.

stalker! yandere boy that gets jealous easily. you collab with another artist or you're seen holding hands with someone in public? he's spreading a fake rumor about whoever it is and ruining their life. you shouldn't be so stupid. why associate with someone else when you have him? why ditch him for someone else? he's right there. he can be better than them. who cares what they look or sound like? victor's so much better. he can show you how much better he is, if you give him a chance.

stalker! yandere boy that is so desperate for any kind of attention from you. it doesn't matter if it's positive or negative attention. he always plays it cool and acts all smug and calm when you notice him, but on the inside he is resisting the urge to grab you and run away from the world. all he wants is to have a peaceful, isolated life with you. away from the disgusting people in the world. you and victor can be happy together.

stalker! yandere boy that is incredibly clingy. you know you need him, right? he must be near you at all times. his presence keeps you alive and happy. you keep HIM happy. he needs you. you both need each other. if he can't see or feel your presence, he will go insane. that is why he travels anywhere you go. that is why he must go to each and every one of your concerts and meet-and-greets. you assumed he was just a big fan to be at every single event, but you just can't see that he loves you much more than just some fan.

stalker! yandere boy that just wants to be with you! let him be around you. let him completely obsess over you, touch you, love you, do whatever he wants to you. he won't hurt you! he just wants a little bit of freedom to say and do whatever he wants to you once you are together, so he can make sure you don't leave him. he will make you feel so good, so loved, so appreciated. nobody will ever love you more than he does.

but there may be someone that rivals his affections. a lowly, masochistic, scrawny pest that thinks he loves you more. victor will have to do something about it before your little superfan finally decides to man up and make a move on you.

[selenitesdawn]

Temperance (1/3)

pairing: wanda maximoff x female!reader plot: Your best friend Kate convinced you to do charity work in Sokovia with some of your old classmates, including your former bully Vision and his girlfriend Wanda Maximoff, who you inconveniently took too much of a liking in. warnings: 18+ !! minors dni. wanda is with vision... also, suggestive content I guess word count: 1115

Patience is a virtue. Patience is the solution. These have been your only thoughts for days now. From a self-imposed affirmation to a recurring echo in your head, this reminder is all you had to get through the situation at hand. What else could you do? Keep trying to ignore your desire? The craving that has kept you awake for days and nights?

The thing is, you may be able to trick your brain for a while. Convince yourself that the way her nose wrinkles when she grins doesn't do anything to you. That the way her middle and ring finger draw the same patterns over and over again on the pages of her book whenever she is deep in thought, doesn't stir something inside of you. That the muffled moans coming from her and Vision's room at night don't bother you. Your brain has managed to lie to itself for a long time, but you can no longer ignore what Wanda is doing to you. So instead of denying your feelings, you decided that you have to sit through them. Until you can finally leave this place.

You weren't planning on pining after your old classmate's girlfriend, but here you were. Miles away from home, locked up with the constant reminder that you can never be with Wanda the way you want to. Originally, the three months in Sokovia were supposed to fulfill you. You just wanted to take care of the local street dogs with your best friend Kate. Do something good. That was it.

“Come on y/n, you've always had a heart for street animals,” your best friend said to you at the time. Back then she turned up at your door without a warning and told you about this great trip Vision had planned.

“Kate, I barely got anything done last semester. I can't waste another one. Besides, my boss never gives me that long of a vacation.”

You knew Kate wouldn't leave your apartment until you said yes. You could tell by the way her eyes were gleaming. How she slightly bend over the table you were sitting at, her gaze not leaving you for one second. Of course, the whole thing is much easier for Kate. Her mother is filthy rich. Kate can basically do whatever she wants. She could disappear for one year, travel the world with money she didn't earn and wouldn't have to worry about her life back home for one moment. You don't have that luxury.

“Think about it. First of all, you do something that fulfills you. Besides, I know you y/n. You haven't wanted to work in that rancid bakery for months. We'll find something new for you afterwards. Not to mention that volunteering to help street dogs for three months looks great on your CV. Plus: I heard Vision rented a mansion”

Vision. The name alone triggered something in you. Vision is not only the son of the famous billionaire Tony Stark, but also a giant asshole. Before Vision knew you were friends with Kate, he took every opportunity to trigger you in some way. Like standing in front of your locker with his group of followers for no reason, just so you couldn't get to it. The worst thing he ever did was probably when he stole your notebook and read out loud in class what you had written about your former classmate Natasha. Some cheesy and cringe poem you managed to suppress from your memories. From that day on, it wasn't just the whole school that knew you liked women. You also were never able to look Natasha in the eye again. But Vision somehow always managed to come out of it okay. His reputation was disgustingly squeaky clean.

“It's so weird imagining Vision doing something voluntarily that doesn't serve only himself. Are you sure he isn't just joking?,” you had asked back then.

“I think he has really changed since high school. Besides, his girlfriend is originally from Sokovia and I think it was her idea? I don't know for sure. But please, y/n, join me. I'd do anything to spend more than an hour a week with my best friend. And this is a once in a lifetime opportunity! Vision specifically asked if you want to join.”

You've never been able to deny Kate a wish. But also, it's never led you into such a miserable situation before. So this is where you were. In a villa far too grand for it to feel like a prison. Besides Vision, Wanda and Kate, there were two other old classmates; Steve and Bucky. Living together turned out to be easier than you thought, especially considering the fact that Vision was there. But your feelings for Wanda kept causing you problems. Whenever the redhead came near you, you started to stumble over your words. One long look alone could throw you completely off balance. But it was even worse when she smiled at you. When she listened to you and her head slightly tilted at the same time. Or when you were cooking and she suddenly appeared behind you, her hand softly placed around your waist and her head set down on your shoulder.

“What are you blessing us with this evening?,” she inquired with an almost teasing tone in her voice.

Before you were able to even articulate anything, she took her free hand, slid it along your arm and took the wooden spoon out of your hand.

“May I?,” her voice dangerously low, as she already moved the spoon towards her mouth, looking straight at you. You just gulped and managed a small nod as Wanda put the spoon in her mouth, her gaze never leaving you as she sucked it clean. Her green eyes were barely visible as her dilated pupils covered them almost completely. A soft moan escaped from her lips as she handed the spoon back to you.

“You're so good at this y/n,” Wanda groans, her hand which still holds onto your waist making its way to your lower back, smoothly slipping under your loose t-shirt. The cold rings on her fingers on your warm skin immediately sent shivers down your spine. Her pinky slightly slipped under the waistband of your sweatpants before she left you standing alone in the kitchen.

She must do this on purpose. There is no other way.

You thought to yourself. But what was the use? Either you are right and she does it on purpose or you are wrong and project your fantasies onto her. In both cases, it is best to simply stay away from Wanda. Because there is no way you don't end up completely fucked. Right?

: Part 2

[cozymochi]

nyoka is always very professional in the way he interacts with people, he's the perfect model of what the scion of an important family looks like in my mind! do you think he would have been this solemn even if he wasn't the wadjet heir, or is his personality influenced by his background? would he disapprove of the way kalim conducts himself, as someone in a similar position? also, does he take pride in the idea of becoming the next head of his family, or are thoughts like those too juvenile for him?

(Thank u ❤️. Sorry for the incoming wall of text under the read-more cut.)

Do you think he would have been this solemn even if he wasn't the Wadjet heir, or is his personality influenced by his background?

ERMMMM… little of column A, little of column B. I think likely would still be relatively the same. He’s a cobra beastman. I’m going to go on a meta tangent really quick but bear with me— 🦁🍩🐺

From what I can tell, TWST in general tends to give the Beastmen characters shared traits with their (IRL) animal counterparts. As a treat.

There’s course in-universe rational explanations and factors, but as a rule of thumb if the IRL animal has a behavioral characteristic or some kind of common cultural depiction, or stereotype— beastmen in TWST will share them in some regard.

Ex. Male Lions sleep a lot, so Leona sleeps a lot.

Hyenas are scavengers, so Ruggie is a scavenger.

Wolves are the subject in the “lone wolf” term, so Jack embodies that trope.

^Extremely simplistic pitches and I am doing a disservice to the layers involved, but the point is being made.

And all three of those above IRL animals have hierarchal social systems within their own groups. So it gets deeper.

Ex. IRL Wolves are actually more strict about their pack hierarchy, so Jack is more strict about how he perceives the one in Savanaclaw;

Clear leader, clear second-in-command, etc. etc. and he has already imposed a role on himself beneath those tiers with very little desire to impose, even if everyone else sees it as more “survival of the fittest—” which! For lion Leona and hyena Ruggie, makes more sense because their animal counterpart hierarchies do operate like that. (And Savanaclaw in general, but, y’know. Specifics.)

That whole pattern of using whatever the IRL traits the source animals have for informing characterization is still present for Nyoka. At least, that what I wanted to try following.

…In a meta sense, anyway. All of the above is just meta stuff with only occasional references in-text.

So with all that squared away—

Egyotian cobras, or at the very basic level, cobras are an entirely different ballpark than the above predators.

Cobras are completely solitary. Unlike all the social animals above, they want nothing to do with other creatures and will try to avoid confrontation. They aren’t mean exactly, but will warn you if they feel threatened. They’re considered “shy” and just want to be left alone. These things are completely different from the social mammals above who, despite everything, absolutely thrive in groups.

It becomes a matter of bringing those characteristics back in.

Having Nyoka be more of an “academic” type within a more sport-oriented dorm was just one way of immediate differentiation. (That and just me wanting to diversify the pool of the dorm students a little bit since we don’t see that treatment much for Savanaclaw. Mobs are usually portrayed as antagonistic bruisers and as diverse as NRC is I would like to believe there are a few more outliers beyond the core cast.)

And, for consideration, cobras also can’t make facial expressions. So having Nyoka mostly be stoic or subdued in how he presents himself seemed like a decent callback to that.

(He has his eccentricities… as a treat)

Stoicness can be viewed as dignified and ideal behavior. Nobody likes a complainer who doesn’t do as they’re told. Nyoka just does what he’s told without complaint or fuss. It’s a means of avoiding confrontation. Nyoka has a pattern of that regardless of the situations severity, if at all.

So, even if he wasn’t a scion to a noble family with an image to uphold or what have you, he likely would still be rather closed-off.

He doesn’t follow the “pack” in Savanaclaw exactly, it’s not really in his personality to do so. He’s not a contrarian by any means (mind, cobras might be solitary but it is survival of the fittest out there + hey, he’s a Leona glazer with the best of them /hj), but it’s just not in him to engage with others or make a scene. He was brought up to be prudent for the most part and very wary of his surroundings.

He just wants to be left alone and go with the motions. Within his dorm especially his behavior is more on the “stay out of the way/defensive” side.

He’s a “reptile” surrounded by a bunch of rambunctious mammals who always get into beef with each other. He is not into being eaten, so to speak.

If he’s caught alone, he’s a little more biting in how he speaks. (Pun entirely intended.)

I do not think his personal affairs would shift his behavior too considerably with all of the above in mind. Meta or otherwise.

And that’s not even addressing the animated counterparts. Woof.

Would he disapprove of the way kalim conducts himself, as someone in a similar position?

He finds Kalim’s manners and decorum less-than something to be desired. Unless he were in a position where giving his opinion can occur and is permitted, he will otherwise keep that to himself.

(Granted, to be fair, he thinks nearly everyone’s manners are bad in some capacity. If his first peeve is being bothered, his second one is bad manners.)

Besides, their families do business together. He is likely going to communicate with this person in the foreseeable future, so being compatible to the public is more of a priority than personal peeves.

Does he take pride in the idea of becoming the next head of his family, or are thoughts like those too juvenile for him?

It’s less of a “pride” thing, and more of a duty thing. He’s going to be the next head not matter what, so he should treat it with dignity. He has no intense personal feelings towards it since it’s something he has to do. At least, not outwardly so.

His answer will never change if asked about it and won’t hint at any personal feelings.

But he is under quite a deal of pressure, but he would never let those cracks show on the surface.

Imagine being in a position where you are and will be the face of your entire clam of people- whom— btw are already very misunderstood and full of pre-conceived assumptions by outsiders, and whatever you do or say will reflect on how everybody else is potentially perceived——

And all that coming off the heels of some event years prior that did quite a bit of interpersonal damage that wasn’t even your fault, but you do often wonder how different things would be if it didn’t happen and it wasn’t you who had to carry all of this. What would you even be doing?

So that’s there! As a treat.

He will remain obstinate on being seen as composed, compatible and dignified at all times. It’s not his place to insert personal feelings.

[xichilie]

More!!!! More Brant x Siren!reader please please please please please please please please please please please please please please

Do one where siren brings Brant gifts from the ocean (like pearls, which they finds out aren't gross clam gall bladder stones to humans) and Brant has a mental breakdown thinking of what to give them cuz........what is he supposed to give a non-human being as a gift?

Honestly, that's a good question. What would you gift a siren, jewelry, or gold? Useless to her, they're probably shipwrecks of it down there. Food? Does she even eat human food?. Clothes? She can't really wear them. Flowers? What's she supposed to do with them?

So I was thinking, something personal that suits brant, and gives him the excuse to continue to see her..

Brant x (fem)siren reader

The Siren’s Offering

Brant had learned to expect the unexpected when it came to Y/N.

She wasn’t predictable—not in the way most people were. Humans followed patterns, even when they thought they didn’t. But Y/N? She moved like the tide. Unrushed, unknowable, drawn to him for reasons neither of them fully understood.

And yet, she always returned. That was enough.

Tonight, when she surfaced, there was something different about her. A quiet certainty in her expression. He noticed it right away, even before she spoke.

Then, without preamble, she lifted something from the water and held it out to him.

"For you."

Brant blinked. His first instinct was to smile—he always smiled when he saw her—but his expression faltered when he caught sight of what she was offering.

Nestled in her palm was a pearl. Large, round, flawless. The kind of thing that would make the greediest noble drool.

Brant had seen treasures before, stolen and displayed in velvet-lined boxes, but this? This was rare. This was a fortune.

And she was holding it like it was nothing.

"Where did you find this?" he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

Y/N tilted her head, puzzled by the question. "I picked it up from a clam."

Brant inhaled, slow and measured. "You… picked it up."

She nodded. "It’s just a clam’s gallbladder stone."

Brant closed his eyes for a second, pressing his lips together like he was physically holding back a reaction.

Then, carefully, he reopened them. "A clam’s—" He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Love, that’s not—" He stopped himself, shaking his head before trying again. "That’s not what humans call them."

Y/N frowned slightly. "Then what do you call them?"

"Pearls. And they’re—" He gestured vaguely, searching for the right words. "They’re valuable."

"Why?"

Brant stared at her.

For a moment, he truly had no idea what to say.

He looked down at the pearl in her hand, then back at her face, utterly uncomprehending. Finally, he let out a quiet, breathy laugh—one of disbelief, not mockery. "You really don’t know, do you?"

Y/N blinked at him, confused. "Why would I?"

Brant shook his head, a small, fond smile pulling at his lips. Of course. Of course she wouldn’t. To her, this wasn’t treasure. It was just something the ocean made—something commonplace, unremarkable.

And yet, she had brought it to him.

"Well," he murmured, taking the pearl from her palm with careful fingers, "I suppose it doesn’t matter, does it?"

Y/N watched him, curious. "So, do you like it?"

Brant turned the pearl over in his fingers, letting it catch the moonlight. He had spent years learning the ways of performance, the art of words, but for a moment, none of that mattered.

He looked back at her, his smile softer now. "I do."

She gave a small nod, seemingly satisfied. "Good."

Brant chuckled under his breath, tucking the pearl safely into his coat. "But you do realize what this means, don’t you?"

Y/N arched a brow. "What?"

"It means I owe you a gift in return."

She frowned slightly. "That’s not necessary."

"Oh, but it is," he countered, grinning now. "A gift freely given is a gift freely returned. It’s only fair."

Y/N hummed, unconvinced, but didn’t argue further.

Brant, on the other hand, was already thinking. Because really—what did one give to a siren?

Jewels meant nothing to her. Gold was useless beneath the waves. She had no need for food or shelter, no interest in human possessions.

For the first time in a long time, Brant found himself at a loss.

But as he glanced at her again, watching the way she studied him with quiet curiosity, an idea started to take shape.

He didn’t need to give her something valuable. He needed to give her something meaningful.

Something only he could give.

Brant had faced many challenges in his life—escaping from Ragunna, surviving the Pilgrimage, faking his own death more times than he could count—but this?

This was impossible.

He lay flat on his back atop a stack of worn crates, staring at the sky as if the answer might drop from the heavens. The Fool’s Troupe was busy setting up for their next performance, voices and laughter filling the air, but Brant heard none of it. His mind was occupied with one singular, infuriating thought:

What in the name of all things dramatic do you gift a siren?

Gold? Useless. She lived in the sea—she had shipwrecks full of it at her disposal.

Food? Even more useless. She didn’t eat human food, and he wasn’t about to bring her a raw fish like some kind of well-dressed seagull.

Music? No, she had an entire ocean to sing with.

Brant groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "This is ridiculous."

"You’re ridiculous," one of the Troupe members called out, balancing on a nearby barrel. "Why are you sighing like a lovesick noble in a tragic romance?"

Brant peeked through his fingers, expression flat. "Because I am one, obviously."

The Troupe member snorted. "Who’s the unfortunate soul?"

Brant waved a dismissive hand. "No one you’d know. Or understand. Or—" He sat up abruptly, running both hands through his hair. "You know what? Forget it. This is impossible."

"What is?"

Brant turned to see one of the older Fools, a woman named Selka, watching him with an amused expression. She had seen Brant through all his wild schemes, all his ridiculous plans, and yet this—this seemed to be the thing that truly entertained her.

Brant huffed, dramatic as ever. "Finding a gift."

Selka raised a brow. "For who?"

Brant opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. The Troupe knew of his mysterious "songbird," but he wasn’t about to explain the specifics. Not when he was already spiraling into full theatrical despair.

Instead, he waved vaguely. "Someone. Hypothetically."

Selka smirked. "And what’s wrong with flowers?"

Brant scoffed. "Too simple."

"A trinket?"

"Too meaningless."

"A song?"

Brant paused.

Selka’s smirk widened. "Ah. There it is."

Brant frowned. "No, no, no—that’s not—it’s too obvious."

"Is it?"

Brant groaned again, flopping back onto the crates. "It has to be perfect. Something meaningful, something she’ll actually want, something—"

"Something only you can give?"

Brant stilled.

Selka chuckled, shaking her head. "You’re overthinking it, boy. Gifts aren’t about value. They’re about sentiment." She nudged his boot with her own. "You of all people should know that."

Brant sat up slowly, fingers drumming against his knee.

Something only he could give.

His own words from the night before echoed in his head, and suddenly, everything clicked.

Brant’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "I have an idea."

Selka snorted. "Of course you do."

Brant leapt to his feet, his usual dramatic energy returning full force. "I need ink. And paper. And maybe a bit of magic."

Selka sighed, already regretting her involvement. "I’m not helping you if this ends with another arrest."

Brant grinned, already halfway out of sight. "No promises!"

This? This would be perfect.

The waves lapped gently against the rocks as Brant approached the familiar shoreline. The Fool’s Troupe had set up camp just beyond the cliffs, but Brant had slipped away unnoticed, heart drumming with something between excitement and nerves.

Tonight, he would not leave empty-handed.

“Little songbird,” he called, voice light, teasing. “I do hope you haven’t grown tired of me.”

Silence.

Brant smirked. “No dramatic entrance today? No waves parting for my arrival? Truly, I’m hurt.”

Then, the water rippled.

Brant stilled as she appeared—just enough for the moonlight to catch the gleam of her skin, the slight tilt of her head. Her gaze, curious as ever, met his.

“You always come back,” she murmured.

Brant’s smirk softened. “And yet, you’re still surprised.”

She didn’t answer, just studied him, her eyes flickering toward the small bundle in his hands.

Brant grinned. “Curious, are we?” He crouched at the water’s edge, unwrapping the cloth with an exaggerated flourish. “I brought you something.”

Y/N blinked, tilting her head. “A gift?”

“A thank-you, actually,” Brant corrected. “For the lovely—” he held up the rare, valuable, eye-wateringly expensive pearl she had gifted him last time, “—clam gall bladder stone.”

Y/N made a face. “I still don’t understand why humans want those.”

Brant chuckled. “That makes two of us.”

He carefully unfolded the cloth, revealing a book. Handmade, bound in rich blue fabric with silver-threaded details. It wasn’t large—just enough to fit in his palm—but it was clear it had been made with care.

Y/N stared at it. “What is that?”

Brant’s smile turned just a little nervous, but he hid it well. “A story.”

She blinked.

Brant cleared his throat, shifting slightly. “I wasn’t sure what to give you—turns out, sirens are rather difficult to shop for.” He gave a mock sigh, placing a hand over his heart. “Tragic, really.”

Y/N huffed, amused despite herself.

Brant continued, flipping open the first page. His own handwriting filled the parchment, neat but expressive. “So I thought… why not give you something only I can? A story—your story.” He tilted his head, smirking. “Or at least, the start of it.”

Y/N hesitated, then swam just a little closer, peering at the book as if it might vanish. “You wrote this?”

Brant nodded. “Well, you inspire quite the tale, love.”

She reached out, trailing a careful finger along the edge of the pages. The sea had never given her anything she could keep. Songs disappeared into the waves. Voices faded. Even the stars above seemed to shift, never the same from one night to the next.

But this?

This was hers.

Brant watched her closely, noting the way she lingered on the pages. “You don’t have to like it,” he added, voice softer. “I just… wanted you to have something. Something real.”

Y/N looked up at him then, expression unreadable.

Brant, for once, waited in silence.

Then—

“I like it,” she murmured.

Brant let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Good.”

Y/N’s fingers curled gently around the book, holding it close. “You always come back,” she whispered again, though this time…

This time, there was something different in her voice.

Brant’s smile softened. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.

“Of course I do,” he said. “I have a story to finish, don’t I?”

[erwinsvow]

there is nothing in this world that rafe cameron loves more than a sundress.

correction—that used to be the case. there's nothing in this world that rafe loves more than you in a sundress.

what had started off as a small preference, usually just joked about and then forgotten until the next sundress season started, had now turned into a full-blown obsession.

rafe stares, though he really shouldn't—mostly because he looks like a complete creep with his gaze locked on you all the time. even when you're just a few feet away, his eyes are burning holes through your body, especially when you're in one of those dresses.

he stares at the hem, how it floats around your thighs when you walk and brushes gently against your skin. doesn't that bother you? he thinks to himself, fully knowing how sensitive that part of you is because usually he's the one touching you there. you squirm when his fingers trace behind your knee and up your thighs, but the dress doesn't seem to do anything like that.

he stares at thin straps, sometimes hastily tied into a bow resting on the top of your shoulders, other times skinny little things that he thinks he could rip off with a little tug. he wouldn't even have to put much strength into it, it would probably tear away from your dress at the first pull. he can't—of course—you love your precious dresses too much for that and he's thinking these thoughts at the dinner table in front of a whole restaurant, but the thought still lingers.

other times it's the way the straps have slid off your shoulder, resting around your arm until you bring your fingers to lift it again. and even then, it just falls again at the next jostle of your body.

like now, when you're shopping for something new and rafe's following right behind you. there's a shopping bag in one hand that you won't let him hold, and your purse on the other arm, and everytime you try to browse through a rack, the strap falls down.

you give up after the next few times, letting your bare shoulder face rafe while you try to find a new pair of jeans from the options in front of you. when you pick up a pair and turn to rafe, you find he's already staring.

"rafe?" you ask, not sure exactly what he's looking at you so keenly for. "do you like these?"

you hold the jeans out to him for an opinion, though you know what'll he say—that all of the ones on the rack look the same to him.

but he doesn't say anything. still staring at you with an intensity you don't understand, your boyfriend's eyes briefly flick from the jeans back to you, and then to your shoulder. he reaches out, fingers brushing your skin, and your head turns to follow. he picks up the fallen strap from your arm and brings it up around the curve of your shoulder until it's secured once again.

"oh," you say, turning to rafe with a smile. your face feels surprisingly hot. "thank you."

"yeah," rafe mutters, looking back at you while you turn—a little confused—back to the jeans on the rack.

it's not just the straps, either, it's all of it. the pretty colors that make your skin glow, some of the floral patterns he's engrained into his memory from looking at for far too long, even the way the dress sits on your body.

but more than that, it's because he knows exactly what's underneath these dresses and what's waiting for him.

he knows all of it—miles of smooth skin, curves that are made for his touch, the places where the two of you fit together like pieces of a puzzle. staring at you now, mindlessly sifting through the clothes without a second thought or even an understanding of what exactly is running through your boyfriend's mind, you wander over to other dresses.

there's more of the same—skinny straps and short, flowy skirts. each one you hold up paints a vivid picture in his head—how easily he could lift it up to your hips, how the fabric would look bunched around your stomach while he holds you in place.

he does that a lot—keep you in your little dresses while he fucks you, sometimes out of impatience, sometimes out of the sheer desire to watch your body sweat and strain inside the material until he eventually gives in and rips it up.

yes, rafe loves your sundresses.

"pink.." you say, holding up one dress with another sweet smile, snapping him out of his thoughts instantly. "or white?"

both look similar—the pink is smaller, maybe a little more snug on you, which is an appealing thought. the white is looser, but with the little straps he likes so much, the ones he can untie with one tug and reveal your tits in one go.

"hm," rafe says, as though he's actually considering it. he leans in a little, and you keep smiling, eyes a little big, waiting for an answer. but you don't get one, just rafe taking both hangers out of your hand.

"no, i didn't mean-"

"i know. c'mon, kid, let's get outta here."

"rafe, i just want one-"

"well you're gettin' both."

a little pout takes over your features—you don't really mean it, he knows, since two dresses instead of one is nothing to complain about. instead he knows you feel bad about it. but to you, rafe is nothing if not generous. he turns back, clutching both of your new dresses way too tightly in his fist.

"how 'bout.. you get both, and you thank me at home? huh?" your pout replaced with a smile, you nod at rafe while you lead him to the check out counter.

he stares at the back of your dress while you walk away. too distracted again, he stays in place, watching.

"rafe? are you coming?"

"yeah, kid. comin'."

[xcaffeineandcuddlesx]

ominis, self-assured but wary of relationships no matter the extent of his admiration.

he’s internally battling himself on the daily, torn between his lover’s sweet nothings of reassurance and the detrimental ideals and feelings of inadequacy his family tried to instill in his youth.

he doesn’t care about blood status, in fact, he would prefer someone that isn’t a pureblood just to stick it to his family.

he wants nothing more than to be committed entirely to each other, wishing he only had a last name he was proud to give to you, a name he would be proud to prolong with a family of his own.

he holds so dearly your attention and endearment, but keeps distance for the first few months of your relationship, wanting it not to ruin him if you decided a gaunt wasn’t worth entertaining.

he’s getting better with learning how valued he is, but cannot help the nagging thoughts of insecurity. he understands how different it must be to adjust both a romantic and casual life to accommodate a lover with one less sense. you think him foolish to believe you ever cared.

ominis can’t say he struggles with blindness, only that he wishes for your sake he had sight.

to take you to your favorite museums and experience them to the fullest, to watch the sunset with you - he hears it’s beautiful but would say it almost certainly pales in comparison to you if anyone mentioned them, to see the love that fills your eyes when you look at him.

oh, the things he would give to see your smile instead of settling to hear it in your voice.

neither of you require grand gestures to feel appreciated, so your love is made apparent through actions, though not lacking in words.

his heart melts when you started replacing your typical paints with textured ones. he was infatuated, running his fingers over your detailed works and following the stoke patterns so often it began to wear.

he would commission matching jewelry, imprints of your fingerprints onto a pendant. he loves the tactile reminder that you’ve entrusted him with a piece of your identity, and his with you.

should you want a pomegranate, he would be ever eager to peel one, uncaring of how long the task would be. he would let his admiration show for you with the stains of garnet on the pads of his fingers and beneath his nails. he doesn’t know of it, of course, but you find comfort in the fact that he carries his passion for you on his own skin; such a form of intimacy.

not without practice, he learned several styles of braids so that he had a place in your daily routine, beaming when you tell him he would make a wonderful father to a little girl.

his clothing in need of mending? it began as a one time thing, he found you practicing fonts with your threads and asked you to embroider your name so he could feel it. now, every time you fix a piece for him, he soothes himself on his worst days, caressing his fingers along the inside of his button down’s cuff where your name resides.

he would memorize the notes of your favorite songs, practicing endlessly in private to be able to fill your shared space with piano instrumentals.

in a modern world, you would surprise him with a personally made audiobook of his favorite novel. he listens to it as though it contained the secrets of the universe.

you two would roam the isles of a craft store, searching for the best textures to make matching dual-sided, no-sew throw blankets from. he revels in the peace of mind knowing that when it’s not your arms around him, he can still sleep with your warm embrace.

never letting you run cold, even if he had to hide his reddened fingertips in his pockets, his coat would be more yours than his at this point.

he would always replenish your favorite perfume once you ran low, secretly buying a second vial to use on his pillows and bedding when you’re away.

he would let you stand on his toes while you danced if you didn’t know how, any excuse to keep you held close.

ominis is such a kind lover, endlessly devoted.

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

the hp boys help you calm down

pair: Harry Potter x reader | Ron Weasley x reader | Draco Malfoy x reader | Neville Longbottom x reader | Cedric Diggory x reader | Fred Weasley x reader | George Weasley x reader | Oliver Wood x reader

summery: the hp boys find y/n (she/her) crying/hipper ventilating

mastelist | navigation

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Harry Potter

Harry finds you on the floor of an empty classroom, gasping for breath, and his heart drops. He immediately kneels beside you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. His voice is soft, full of concern. "Just breathe with me, okay?" he says, his green eyes locking with yours. You nod, though tears still threaten to spill. He takes slow, deep breaths, showing you the rhythm to follow. "In... and out. Nice and easy." You focus on his calm presence, mirroring his breaths. Harry doesn’t rush you or overwhelm you with questions; he just stays there, offering his steady support until your breathing evens out and the panic fades.

Ron Weasley

Ron isn’t used to seeing you like this, panicked and struggling for breath. It makes his stomach twist, but he doesn’t hesitate. He crouches down, his voice uncharacteristically soft, trying to ground you. "Hey, hey, I’m here. Just breathe with me, okay?" Your fingers clutch his sleeve, and he holds onto your hand, offering a solid anchor. Ron starts breathing deeply, exaggerated and slow so you can follow along. "That’s it. We’ve got this." Though he's a bit nervous himself, Ron stays focused on you, never letting go of your hand until he sees the tension ease from your face and your breathing return to normal.

Draco Malfoy

Draco’s face pales when he finds you hyperventilating in the hallway, but he doesn’t let fear take over. He sits beside you on the cold floor, one arm wrapping around your shoulders. "Look at me. Just breathe with me, okay?" His tone is firm but gentle, trying to guide you through it. You nod shakily, your breaths still uneven. Draco starts to breathe slowly, leaning in close so you can feel his calm rhythm. "You’re safe. I’m right here." He keeps his voice low and soothing, staying with you until your breathing begins to mimic his, the weight of the panic lifting.

Neville Longbottom

Neville finds you on the floor of the greenhouse, your breaths coming too fast, and it breaks his heart to see you like this. Without a second thought, he kneels down and gently takes your hands in his. "Just breathe with me, okay?" he whispers, his voice full of concern but steady. You meet his eyes, and even though panic still grips your chest, his presence is calming. He breathes slowly, guiding you through the rhythm. "In and out, just like that. You’re doing great." Neville’s calm energy helps ground you, and soon, the tightness in your chest begins to loosen, your breaths syncing with his.

Fred Weasley

Fred’s usual playfulness is gone the moment he finds you in distress, your breath coming too fast. Without hesitation, he crouches down beside you, placing a hand on your back. "Hey, love, just breathe with me, okay?" His voice is soft but filled with determination. You nod, clutching his sleeve as if it’s a lifeline. Fred begins to take exaggerated, slow breaths, his eyes never leaving yours. "In through the nose, out through the mouth. You’ve got this." His steady presence and the warmth of his hand help calm you, and before long, your breathing slows, the panic fading away with Fred right beside you.

George Weasley

George's heart clenches when he finds you sitting on the floor, struggling to catch your breath. He kneels down immediately, brushing your hair back gently. "Hey, love, just breathe with me, okay?" His voice is soft but clear, trying to cut through the haze of panic. You give him a shaky nod, your hand trembling as it reaches for his. George holds it tightly, starting to breathe in slow, deliberate patterns. "In... and out. Nice and slow." With his calm reassurance and his thumb gently rubbing your hand, you start to focus on his rhythm, your breathing finally slowing to match his.

Cedric Diggory

Cedric’s heart skips a beat when he finds you in the corridor, panicked and hyperventilating. He doesn’t hesitate, kneeling beside you and cupping your face gently. "Hey, look at me. Just breathe with me, okay?" His voice is calm and steady, his touch soft. You manage a nod, though the panic still grips you. Cedric begins to breathe slowly, showing you the rhythm to follow. "In through the nose, out through the mouth. That’s it. You’re doing great." His unwavering patience and soft encouragement keep you grounded, and soon, the tension in your chest starts to release as your breathing calms in time with his.

Oliver Wood

Oliver feels his chest tighten when he finds you on the floor of the Quidditch stands, gasping for breath. Without hesitation, he kneels down beside you, his voice gentle but firm. "Hey, breathe with me, okay? Just focus on me." You nod shakily, eyes wide with panic, and Oliver takes your hand in his, grounding you. He starts breathing slowly and deeply, making sure you can see and feel his calm presence. "In... and out. Nice and easy." His strength and steady encouragement help guide you back, your breathing slowing as you mirror his calm rhythm. Oliver stays by your side, reassuring you until the panic fully subsides.

[fivestaralien]

there for you

wooyoung x fem!chubby reader

word count: 2120

warnings+": shitty family dynamic, mentions of really bad anxiety, wooyoung will always stand up for you<3 lmk if there's anything else

a.n.// had some very similar conversations with family members recently and this is my outlet to comfort myself ahahaha also obsessed with ateez's new comeback and wooyoung has been catching my eye the most. yunho look away..... anyway I hope you enjoy and lmk your thoughts!!! stay safe as always<3

//

Wooyoung knew the second he stepped into your shared place that something was off. He knew you were probably getting ready by the time he was done with practice but he didn’t see a single implication of that. Today was your brother and sister-in laws rehearsal dinner and you were beyond nervous. You hadn’t slept in days and nothing has been able to help. 

 You had spent all day trying to calm yourself down and just toughen up but being surrounded by so many people freaks you out. Especially since you will have to see your father, who was never your biggest fan. You’ve used many different methods to help your thoughts but for some reason none of them were useful at the moment.

 You were so in your own head you didn’t even notice Wooyoung walk into the room and sit down next to you. He leans over you, steading himself on a hand next to your chest. You give him a small smile as he traces your cheek with his thumb catching your attention.

 “What do you need right now?” 

 Instead of answering verbally you open your arms wide and he puts his entire upper body on yours. You squeeze your arms around his shoulders playing with his hair and Wooyoung could already feel you relaxing. 

 Goosebumps rise on your arm as he traces patterns delicately across your skin. You always appreciated when the two of you could just lay in silence together and not have to think about the real world. Wooyoung was a very loud and outgoing person but he knew when it was time to calm down and not cause too much trouble. 

 You snuggle closer to him as he kisses up and down your neck and shoulder almost like Wooyoung was transferring some of his energy to you. 

 “Thank you for agreeing to come with me. I don’t think I’d be able to get through the whole dinner without you.” You whisper into his hair. 

 “You know I will always be there for you and I am more than happy to support you and your family.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. 

 You grab your phone to check the time and groan when you realize that you really need to be getting ready. It’s been put off for too long so you motion to Wooyoung to get up and change into the outfits you had planned for you two. 

 Still to this day you will never get over how ridiculously handsome Wooyoung is and seeing him in his all black suit right now just solidifies that. You smooth out the lapels of his jacket not hiding at all that you were checking him out but he wasn’t hiding it either. Wooyoung grabs your hand and whistles while slowly spinning you to see every single angle of you in your matching pantsuit and you jokingly spin him around too. 

 “God you are a dream.” It slips out before you could even really think and you could see Wooyoungs pride swelling the second he hears your words.

 “Trying out new nicknames are we?” He teases squeezing your hips.

 “Wipe that smile off your face before I do it for you.” His laugh rings throughout the bathroom causing you to follow along. 

 Wooyoung cups both of your cheeks bringing you in for a short kiss. You do some last minute touch ups before finally leaving and now it really is hitting you. Luckily for you your wonderful boyfriend was right there to help ease your nerves. The entire drive to the venue he was either holding your hand or massaging your thigh and when you arrived he was more than happy to let you take your time to prepare yourself.

 You eventually go in hand in hand and immeadietly you are swarmed by various family members. Wooyoung tries his best to keep a lot of the attention off you but since he didn’t know your family that well you unfortunately got most of it. Your younger family members pull you into so many different conversations you feel like your head might explode. Luckily you see your brother making his way over.

 “y/n! Wooyoung! I’m so happy to see you guys here.” Your brother comes up hugging you both tightly, “ you guys are gonna be sitting with us, mom, dad and her parents.” He points to the table up in the very front. 

 Just then his fiance comes up to greet you both and you easily get sucked into a conversation with her. She has always looked out for you and you were extremely grateful for that. Wooyoung stayed on the sidelines watching over you with careful eyes as you happily talked with your future sister. 

 “How are you doing? I really am happy that you could make it. I know things like this are hard for you.” She pats your knee affectionately. 

 “I’m good. I think if Wooyoung wasn’t here it would be a whole different story.” You laugh trying not to think too much about it, “but I wouldn’t miss this for anything I’m so happy for you both.” You squeeze her arm as a blush rises on her cheeks. 

 “Thank you. Even though this is just the rehearsal dinner I’m almost just as nervous. It’s so crazy how much your life changes when you get married.” She looks towards your brother with so much love in her eyes it makes you feel so happy for them. 

 You personally never had any interest in ever getting married but you will always support your loved ones with what they want to do with their lives. Thankfully Wooyoung since day one has always been on the same page as you but you know you would spend the rest of your life with him. 

 “I can’t even imagine what your thoughts are and how much time and effort that goes into a wedding. It’s going to be beautiful.” 

 You converse a little long before she has to go and talk to others that have arrived and Wooyoung gladly takes his place next to you again. His hand immediately goes to the small of your back under your jacket pushing you close to his side. You welcome the comfort with a smile and wrap your arm around his torso.

 “Check in?” He whispers towards your ear. 

 “I’m at a 75 right now and we just barely started. I hate how easily overstimulated I get around people.” You can feel your eyes begin to sting and you were more than grateful that you were in a more secluded area so no one could see. 

 “Hey it’s going to be okay. Don’t worry about needing to talk to anyone anymore, just let me do that.” He kisses your forehead, thumbing away a stray tear from your cheek.

 He cradles the back of your head to bring you into a hug. You wrap your arms around his neck to get as close to him as possible and he whispers encouraging words while rubbing up and down your back. It takes you a few minutes to calm down and eventually you are able to go sit at the table designated for you. 

 When you sit down Wooyoung grabs the back of your chair scooting you a little closer to him. He lays his hand on your thigh, palm up knowing you would need a distraction. You instantly begin tracing the lines on his palm as your parents spark up a conversation with Wooyoung. 

 You mostly drown out what they are talking about and focus more on the patterns on the hand resting on your lap but you catch little things here and there. They ask the usual parent questions, like how work was going, what his plans for the future was and the one question you always hated, when are you and our daughter getting married and having kids. 

 No matter how many times throughout your life that you’ve told them you don’t plan on doing either of those things, they just never listen.

 “Well we’ve both talked about it when we first started dating and we’re on the same page about not having kids or getting married.” Wooyoung explains as nicely as he can. 

 “Have you always not wanted those things or did you only decide that when you met our daughter? I’ve always told her that she needs to do things the right way but she always has to go against me.” Your fathers tone was a very condescending and you squeeze Wooyoungs hand a little too tightly. 

 “I mean sure I’ve thought about it but ultimately that isn’t my decision it’s yn’s and no matter what she decides I will love and support her.” Wooyoung tells your father without any hesitation.

 You couldn’t be more proud of Wooyoung and how he stands up for you. Especially since you’ve always butted heads with your father. He’s always made it clear that everything you did was never going to please him so you stopped trying a long time ago. It still hurts sometimes though, like right now.

 Almost like he can sense when your father is starting shit, your brother comes in like a saving grace and sits down next to him taking the attention off of you. Wooyoung moves his hand to the back of your neck, gently massaging to hopefully ease the tension he knows is washing over your body. 

 Not long after your brother's best man begins a speech but all you focus on is the person sitting next to you. Wooyoung does a very good job at keeping you distracted and eventually the dinner ends and you can finally go home. 

 You give hugs to your brother and his fiance and a few of your cousins and practically drag Wooyoung to the car. As soon as you get away from everyone you begin ranting.

 “I just don’t understand why he can’t just support me with anything.” You fold your arms across your chest and lean against the car. Wooyoung leans against his shoulder facing you to give all his attention, “he wonders why I don’t tell him stuff and it’s so frustrating because I want to be close to him but he just won’t let me.” 

 You then lean all the way back looking up at the darkening sky as Wooyoung comes to stand right in front of you. He cups your face to make you look at him then lightly pecks your lips. 

 “I know that it’s hard but at the end of the day it’s your life and you get to choose what you do with it. You can’t let anyone, even a family member, decide what you want to do with your life.” He tells you while gliding his thumbs across your cheeks. 

 Nodding to what he says you know he is right but you also have this deep need of validation from your dad that you still are trying to unlearn. You are lucky to have Wooyoung though because you know that no matter what he will always have your back. He also is amazing at giving you solid advice even when you don’t really want to hear it but that’s why you love him. 

 You lift yourself off of the car and swing your arms around Wooyoung, shoving your face into his chest. He holds you close kissing the top of your head and then asks if you wanted him to drive home to which you nod against him. 

 When you walk past the front door you take off your jacket and collapse onto the couch face down. You hear Wooyoung laugh and then tug on your leg a little to try and get you up. 

 “Come on love, let's get ready for bed. It’s been a long day for you.” He squeezes your calf affectionately. 

 You lift off the couch and follow him into the bathroom to wash all of your makeup off. You go back and forth with using products and eventually get into comfier clothes when you finish. 

 “Thank you for today and what you said to my dad. It means a lot.” You tell him as you settle on the bed and into his arms. 

 “Of course. I’ll always have your back and what he insinuated was pretty shitty, I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with him for so long. Why don’t we go out tomorrow? Do something to get your mind off of today.” 

 You nod your head and you feel your eyes getting heavy. Wooyoung can feel you relaxing and figures you are beginning to fall asleep. He rubs your back letting you fall even deeper until your breath evens out and he follows not long after.

// my masterlists :)

[ultralightpoe]

Venomous- Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gahhhhhh, enjoy. Part 2 soon

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, mentions of murder.

Word Count: 7566

Requests: OPEN! [This work is a request]

[Thank you for the gif @another-nerdy-blog ]

Enjoy!

Inland Taipan 

Scientific Name: Oxyuranus microlepidotus

- 

“Despair is the price one pays when they set an impossible aim.” Dreykov murmurs, his voice sending a chill down your spy as he circles you slowly. His footsteps fall into a pattern your brain can’t help but follow, a constant thud like a war drum. 

And though he claimed to be checking you for your next mission you couldn’t help but feel as though he was circling you like a predator would it’s prey. 

‘He needed you’, you tried to remind yourself, doing your best to ease yourself and hide the fear from him. Because the truth was he didn’t need you. You might be his top assassin in this moment but you were easily replaceable. 

Natasha herself had warned you before she escaped. 

“We are nothing but weapons here.” She had whispered to you one night, huddled together to keep warmth on the mission, arms wound tightly around each other. Your sister in arms, your sister in life since you didn’t know your own family. 

You had known she wanted out, you wanted the same thing, and though you weren’t mad she had made it out you were upset that she had done it without you. 

Countless times dreaming of a life beyond all of this. 

Lies. 

“Do you understand what this means, pretty girl?” Dreykov asks, pulling your attention away from your memories back to where he know stood behind you, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror while you shake your head. 

You were nervous he had caught you, that he knew you had hacked into his system three days ago to find your birth name, and so when you had been ordered down you were sure he was going to kill you. 

But instead he had you prep for an upcoming mission. 

“It means not to set yourself up for failure. You know your skill, and you know your limitations. You are my top weapon.” He explains, not breaking eye contact as you bite back your tongue to make a snide comment. “The mission I am about to send you on is long and I trust no one but you.”

“Thank you.” You mutter, nodding your head. 

“I’d like to introduce you to the key of this mission, a vital part.” The door opens a couple feet away, and a strong figure was soon led into the room, the second you spot him your entire body tightens in discomfort. 

Right, Natalia Romanov was gone and you had taken her place. Which meant you would now do duo missions with the Winter Soldier himself. 

And you knew the moment your eyes traced over his body that he would ruin everything. By the way his eyes traced over your own before his fists tightened you knew he was thinking the same about you. 

- 

Dr. Aquinos always had a noticeable look of pity that, no matter how many times you saw it, always set your stomach twisting in a mix of anger and embarrassment. But you were sure if you were to bring this up she would simply tell you that you were over reading, trying to find an excuse not to trust her. 

‘By the sounds of it you weren’t always this distrusting, why don’t we try to go back and think about when that began to change’. Blah blah blah. 

The clock on the wall was the only sound that could be heard in the room, with you sitting completely still in an effort to wait out this hour until you could leave, and her across from you sitting patiently with her classic notepad and pen. She often twirled it between her fingers when she was getting impatient, and you tried not to smirk at the sight of her doing it now. 

“I thought we had moved past this waiting game routine.”

“I thought you were over that sweater,” You huff, shrugging your shoulder a bit and giving her an empty glare, only to find that she narrows her eyes. Like a lion reading the challenge. 

“You look sick.” There it is again, that damn pity that made you want to scratch out her eyes, and maybe your own. You always hated her pity, or maybe you hated the ‘serene’ paintings around the room or the happy family photo that proudly hung from the wall next to the office door. The same photo that always dug a hole in your chest whenever you spotted it. 

It was a reminder and a slap in the face at the same time. Dr. Aquinos kids will never know that pain or suffering which isn’t their fault and yet you couldn’t stop the resentment that filled you whenever you saw that damn photo. The smile that reminded you of so many… so many children that deserved better. 

You hated this office, and yet you found yourself here once a damn week. 

“I believe the term you are looking for is sickening.” You flash her a wide smile, crossing your legs to seem more confident in this moment, trying not to seem like that movement alone caused you pain. 

“I mean sick.” She states, her tone still holding that fucking pity. “Was it a long night for you?”

Yes. It had been an extremely long night for you. The first half of the night had been spent on top of a roof in the freezing cold for surveillance, only the target had shown up 40 minutes later than he normally did which meant you had an extra 40 minutes of the winter air making you shiver and tightening your bones. Which made the hip injury you tried to avoid all the worse, hard to move around. 

By the time you managed to limp your way home, scarfing down  the small rations of food into your mouth before shoving a pain pill down and diving into the cot you kept in the closet for safety. 

You had gotten maybe an hour worth of sleep before the terrors dragged you awake in a pool of your own sweat, panic clinging to your every move. 

Your hip still hurt, the throbbing beginning to work it’s way into your spine, but you had a performance to play here. “Not really, I slept through the night and woke up in my soft warm bed.”

“You’re not still sleeping on the military cot in the closet then?”

“No,” You lie, enjoying the way it slips past your lips without a notch. “I’ve got a queen size bed now.”

Yet another lie, your apartment held a duffel bag of your mission gear and suit. One dresser of normal clothes, the cot in the closet. That was all you needed. 

And it’s pathetic, the way you once dreamed of this for so long just to be living this miserable existence. 

“It’s common to miss it, you know, there is no shame in that. It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.” She mumbles softly, and you hate the way she can read you that easily. 

It was true, you missed the red room. You missed your sisters and you missed the routine. You never needed to be someone in the rooms, out here in the world? A new story completely. 

You were nothing, no one. 

All you had was a name and even that didn’t seem like it belonged to you. 

“Why don’t we keep expanding on your years in the rooms….” She switches the conversation, knowing you both had hit a dead end, choosing a new route. “You told me a little about it before and I noticed that most widows have specialty names built off of that name itself. But you didn’t, can you explain why you were named….the ‘viper’ was it?”

“Yes.” Ironically the way you bite this out makes the ending sound like your very own hiss, all you needed now was a rattle and black eyes. 

“Can you explain to me how you got that name?”

“Because of…. Him.” Even referencing him left a sore spot in your chest, sweat beading the back of your neck. 

“Ah, Bucky Barnes.” She hums, and you hated that people called him that. You hated that he got his name and his recovery. He was the Soldat, he would never change and of course people were falling for his trap. 

You had long ago. 

“The SOLDAT gave me the name on our mission.” You sneer, “What time is it?”

The clock had stuck, you were sure of it. And when she reached to check the time on her watch you caught sight of her notes with the words HEALTH RISK circled and underlined, her family photo once again making you a bit nauseous as she hums out and nods to the door to let you know the time was up. 

“I look forward to our next session.”

“I don’t.” It was the truth, and you enjoyed the fact that you could speak the truth with her even if she got a little too close. “But I wish you a good week, I hope your family is okay.”

The smile that spreads across her face as you leave makes you angry, but not at her, at yourself. 

She was right, you were a health risk. To yourself and to others, but that wouldn’t matter soon, the second you completed your final task you wouldn’t have to worry anymore. 

The list of names you had made for yourself, your last mission on this miserable life would be to take out the people that hurt you. 23 names total, and at the very end of the list in the neatest handwriting you could muster was ‘The Soldat’. 

You would leave this earth, but he would leave it first. 

- 

Alternative name/s:

Fierce Snake, Small-scaled Snake, Lignum Snake 

-

It was easy to ignore the widow,  she liked to keep to herself in the corner of the small safe house they were keeping in on the first part of the mission. 

A list of names, 118 total, that Hydra and the Red Room needed gone as soon as possible. Risks that needed to be handled. And the Soldat was used to doing missions on his own but they paired him with the Widow to help. 

And at first he was sure she would be trouble, but he was proven to be wrong since the Widow seemed just as sure as him that she didn’t want to be near him. 

Right now she sat in the corner, crisscrossing, taking time to clean all her knives with the polishing kit that most of the Hydra safe houses had to keep their gear clean. Her hands worked seamlessly, making sure that the knife shown under the light, and he couldn’t seem to look at anything else but her. 

Maybe the Soldat was annoyed that she had used the polishing kit before he could. Maybe he just liked seeing that someone else had the same routine he did on these missions. Or maybe he was interested in the vials sitting beside her. 

As if she could read his thoughts she reached for one, keeping the knives before her on the ground as she twisted the cap to the vial and moved to pour the liquid over each weapon before taking what was left and he was confused by the fact that she was putting on her suit.

He looked closer, realizing that there were vials hidden within her sleeve. He wanted to know what they were for until she looked up to give him a knowing smile, teeth flashing in a way that pissed him off. 

He turned away again, so she can go back to doing her hair and looking at her reflection. 

But it all made sense the night of the first hunt. She had started at the other end of the house and planned to make their way through to find their target, and by the time he did find her she already had the target within her clutch. 

His arm twisted within her legs to keep him in place with one hand pushing his head so his neck was exposed while her other wrist snaps to reveal two puncture points at the knuckles of her suit made to look like fangs. Only a flash of those before they reach his neck. 

She removes herself immediately and he rushes to get the target, worried that he would fight back and wondering what would make the widow so stupid to let him go before he realizes that the Target wasn’t moving at all. Instead he seems paralyzed as he died slowly. 

When he whirls back to the Widow she is once again facing a mirror, fixing her hair and lipstick before turning to him with a smile that twisted his chest. “Are there any more loose ends?” 

The russian falls off his tongue with ease and she narrows her eyes at him to tilt her head. 

“Tous les détails sont pris en charge,” [All the loose ends are taken care of.] She shrugs, twirling her hair before spinning on her toes and swaying her hips to walk away. His brain racks for a moment, never great at French which she had realized on the first day, and followed the brat down the hall. 

He risks a look down the hall where Marvin Montys child slept and spots the blood splatter on the wall, before following her. 

At least the widow could do her job. 

- 

“You’re making a lot of progress, Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums out, nodding her head as she watches him from her regular spot. She hasn’t scribbled on her notepad in the past 30 minutes of their hour-long session, and he hopes that’s a good sign. “But I’d like to dive a bit deeper for a moment, cut to the harsh point if you don’t mind.”

“Not like I have a choice here Doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite. 

“Funny,” She smirks for a second before sitting up a bit. “There’s a patch of memories that you said helped you break from the Soldier with Steve. Made it easier, your own words.” 

“There was. About a month before I was sent out to get Steve….. I had just gotten back from another mission.”

“The one with the ‘Viper’ is that correct?”

He has to clear his throat in attempt to fight off the tightness, feeling his chest constrict in pain as he nods. 

“It was a long mission. I hadn’t been away from the chair for that long before and she managed to break through every crack formed. Or at least we thought she did.”

“Have you tried to find her? Since you have come back?” 

“I started trying to find her the second Steve found me.” He explains, thinking back to when he first started tracking her down. But there was nothing, even going through all the programs he could within the Red Rooms files, he couldn’t find a trace of her anywhere after him. 

He was terrified, because if he couldn’t find a single trace of you that might have meant you were gone and he didn’t think he could survive in a world that he knew didn’t have you in it. 

But then Natasha freed the Red Room while he was ‘snapped’ and the world he came back to was a world with the Widows and all their secrets revealed. And that’s when he found Yelena….. Well Yelena had found him. 

She had been suffering from the loss of her sister, and had taken to finding all the widows herself to make sure they were fine. She was the one person in this world that had the information he needed. 

Sam, the new captain america, had poured over the intel with him. Your intel, the trail to find you. 

“You sound as if you have.”

“Not yet, but I’m close.” He nods. “I have this feeling in my chest, that I’m almost there. That I’ve almost got her. And I can give her what she’s always wanted.”

“And what’s that?”

“A candle that smells like orchids by a front door where you can hang your keys. A door mat decorated to invite kids to trick or treat on Halloween. Curtains that catch the light in the morning.” None of the things he mentioned were his dreams, not until she had mentioned them. 

“I hope you get those things.” He does too. And he was close, matter fact he only had 3 more days before Sam and himself went to find you. 

- 

The inland taipan's venom is the most potent of any snake in the world. A single bite contains enough venom to kill around 100 adult humans. The venom is a cocktail of enzymes that paralyze nerve endings, destroy muscle tissue, and cause severe bleeding

- 

A month with the Soldat had been easy keeping to yourself, 2 months had shown you so much more. 

The first being he was extremely grumpy in the mornings, no matter what. Even before you both had begun getting along you had noticed that he hated them. Every move he made was tight, He would rip open the ration packets and stomp his feet just about anywhere. He would do weapons checks so that all you would hear were the clicks and twists of his gun and the metal hand grabbing everything. 

Then he would do bed checks, coming over to the cot you had claimed as your own to throw you off it and search through your stuff. 

Month three, 3 targets in, you had completely learned his morning routine. And since you had been on watch last night you got the gift of seeing it in real time. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning in his sleep and mumbling something about a Steve he sat up right at 5am, launching himself out of his cot and taking in his surroundings. He glared at you, which made you smirk as he passed to head to the bathroom. He stretched in there, too proud to admit that even the Soldat needed to loosen his muscles. You heard the water run telling you he was right on schedule with cleaning himself up and you took the chance to rest your head on the small pillow to close your eyes before he stomps back. 

You know he is reaching for the ration packets without even opening your eyes, and you know he uses his teeth to tear it open in hopes to release some of the tension he had built up. You know he is already snatching your own ration packet to prepare it, moving to start the kettle and prepare the bowls. 

You have another 15 minutes of him checking his weapons, hearing him grunt with every weapon cleaned and polished before making sure they were all strapped into their holsters. The kettle starts ringing and he has the habit of rushing to grab it before it bothered you, and you always thought it was the most human thing to do, like a glimpse into who he would have been if he hadn’t become this monster. 

The smell of cream of wheat fills the air, and you hear his steps come to your cot, right on time. 

In the beginning he used to snatch you up to fling you, now he merely reached out a hand to guide you up without an ounce of aggression before he searched through your stuff. And normally you would go grab the rationed breakfast and get ready but today you chose to head to his own cot, sliding into it. 

You were just tired, and you really didn’t care as he turned to glare at you while you curled up, pretending that you weren’t basking in the smell of the leather and soap he wore, pressing your face into the cloth of the cot. A small ounce of fear fills you when he marches forward, only for him to pull the blanket up and cover your shoulders. 

And the warmth fills your body, black filling your vision as you fall asleep once more, this time in the Soldats bed. 

You wake a little later, eyes snapping around the room to check everything, finding the Soldat sitting over his tech to watch your next target. He snaps his head to you the second you sit up, eyes tracing over you before nodding in contempt and turning back to the task at hand. 

When you stand from the cot to grab your gear you are shocked to find that he had already prepared it for you. 

Not only had the Soldat let you sleep, but he had helped you prepare. 

And that small tug in your chest is a weakness, you know it, but that doesn’t stop you from turning to watch him work. 

If he wasn’t in this life you were sure he would have been a good man. 

You felt bad lying to him,  but you had to because good man or not he was a soldier first. And a good soldier would take you out for your weakness, a good soldier would kill you for what you were doing. 

- 

The worst part of waking up was the fact that you couldn’t escape the dreams and memories even with your eyes open. Most think that it’s over once you wake, but for you? Never. Every move is haunted by the past, every breath another painful punishment, and everywhere you look is just another reminder. There was nowhere you could escape. 

So when you manage to pull yourself from the nightmare, sitting up with your clothes drenched in a cold sweat, the darkness of the closet surrounding you like a blanket of protection. 

You’re not there….You remind yourself. If it’s dark then they are leaving you alone. 

And when you sit up, pain shoots through your hip at every single move, letting yourself out of the closet you begin your routine. 

3 am, a slight shower. Not long in fear you would be caught and in part you didn’t want to run too much water. Brush teeth, dress in suit. 

3:15, limp to the kitchen and start boiling water before you reach into your duffel to grab the pain pills you kept hidden away. The prescription written in your name feels wrong, like aren’t actually yours, like you are living the life of a stranger. But you remind yourself it doesn’t matter anyways as you shove it in your mouth, going back to scarf the cream of wheat down and then you head out for an intel session. 

You never take the door, instead you snatch your duffel and remove a little of the newspaper to slide out and climb down the fire escape. 

You take back roads, your static sounder messing up any footage of yourself the cameras might have caught. And soon enough you were prepping yourself to watch your target, venom sitting in the wrists of your suit, a little bit of that past routine giving you something to focus on. 

20 more names on the list until you would go after the Soldat, 21 more names total. 21 names until you are finished with it all. 

All you had to do was wait for the perfect time to kill this one. 

- 

The bite of the Inland Taipan with envenomation can be rapidly fatal, it can take as early as 30 minutes

- 

The Widow had worn on the Soldat, a shame to admit. 

A routine had built where it shouldn't have and now instead of working around each other they worked with each other. They made the rations together, ate together, cleaned their weapons and reloaded them together. 

When he would sit to watch the intel she began coming to sit with him, if not to watch it herself she would lean her head against him and find something to busy herself with while he worked. 

But the biggest change was the banter. 

Gone were the days of him grunting and glaring, she would refuse that now. Instead they found themselves going back and forth, but it was never serious, mostly teasing. 

She would speak in French to piss him off because she knew the Soldat struggled to keep up with it. He would come out of the shower and lean over where she slept to make the water drip down on her while she tried to sleep. She would trip him as he tried to get dressed and he would pull out strands of hair while she did it. 

Back and forth, push and pull. 

Today, when they were planning to start the intel stage on the next target it had turned out to be a downpour of rain, and normally he would go anyway. And yet, when you went to grab your suit he reached out his flesh hand to stop you, pulling you to sit back down. 

“Today, we rest.” He orders, watching your eyes narrow at the russian before you nod and stand, keeping ahold of his hand as you head to where you both keep the stash of rations. 

This safe house was freezing, and it made him miss the last one, not to mention this safe house only held one cot. The best part about this safe house? 

It had amazing rationing food. 

So when you shook the pack to heat it up he made sure to stay close and start the kettle. Keeping so close that he could always feel your arm against him. 

And once the rations were ready you both huddled together against the counters for cover so you could let your walls down a bit, sitting side by side. You shared your beef and potatoes, he shared his spaghetti, eating out of the portion packs and drinking the tea. But his favorite part about this new routine was when the conversation turned to dreams. 

“If I wasn’t in this program……” You hum, and he can’t help but watch your every movement, the way you lick your hips and scratch your forehead in contemplation. “I would have a big house.” 

He huffs out a laugh, shoving the last of his food in mouth as you shrug. “Yes, a big house. And…… and I would have a candle that smells like orchids so whenever people enter they think it smells nice….. And maybe a rug outside the door so they can see it when the kids trick or treat.”

He can’t help the smile that forms from listening about your dream, grabbing your trash to throw away before cleaning out the mugs you both used. 

“Oh! I’d have kids. At least 7!” You continue, following him before shuffling to tech case to find your camera set up. He knows you’re going to triple check that everything is working to busy yourself, something you often did whenever you brought up the idea of kids. 

Widows couldn’t have kids, this he knew. They all received the procedure. To stop periods, to keep their bodies from transforming too much and too prevent pregnancies whenever Dreykov sent them on seduction missions. And before the Soldat had met you none of that had really mattered to him. 

But now, the thought of you being used like that, it made him furious. And he tried to figure out ways to prevent it, ways to stay attached to you as a mission partner forever. 

But that would never happen, they would never allow that. So he tries not to think about it, instead he moves forward to pull you away from the tech, pulling you to the cot so you both can lay down, pulling the blanket up and wrapping you in his arms. 

“Goodnight,” You whisper in french, and pinches your arm to make you laugh before letting himself fall asleep. \

- 

Bucky had the defense of saying that they had tried knocking first, and that was a lame defense at that. But he thought about his arguments as he picked the lock with ease, pushing the door open and letting Sam take the lead. 

At the last second his flesh hand grabs at the Captain America suit, pulling his friend back to warn him. “A quick heads up, she doesn’t fight like the others.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“No, don’t let her wrap her legs around you and don’t let her knives come into contact, small slash or not they are all laced in venom. And above all avoid getting punctured by any of her weapons.” He explains. 

“I thought we were going in to reason with her.”

“We are.” Bucky sighs, his chest constricting in pain. “She’s just a little lost. We’ve all been there.”

The need for revenge was strong. He had been there himself, Yelena had been there. Many widows have been there. And you were currently handling that yourself, handling all the trauma yourself. And that thought hurt him. 

Sam had agreed to help, to come with him and find you, talk you down from this path Captain America style. 

So they stood together as they pushed the door in, searching every inch of the apartment for you until they realized you weren’t here. So instead they looked around for where you might be. 

“I thought all the Hydra Safe Houses had been torn apart.” Sam mutters, admiring the work you did on the windows, newspaper covering nearly every inch while Bucky moves to the closet where he had seen the bed in their search for you. 

He could imagine you nestled up in the cot, surrounded in the dark. The way you used to pull the covers completely over your head to hide from the sun and use your feet to pull the blanket in so you were fully cocooned. 

But this….. None of this was you. Countless times talking about your dreams and this was the outcome? You deserved better. 

“Everything you told me about her just doesn’t seem right here.” Sam mutters once more moving to the kitchens and digging through the cabinets. “Military rations and tea. That’s all.”

“She was so full of life, used to dream of her freedom. She needs help.” Bucky snaps, anger beginning to course through him as he heads to the kitchen. One of your biggest things when you were paired was hiding the tech when you left so no one would have access. 

Your favorite spot was always the bottom left cabinet and sure enough it all sat there. 

“Brilliant.” Sam smiles, leaning over the laptop as Bucky hacks his way in to see what you have been watching. It takes a moment for the footage to load, and once it does he finds video footage of a man walking around his apartment in a towel. 

“Live feed.” Bucky mumbles. 

“That’s Eaiton,” Sam sighs, leaning forward as the man walks down a hall and heads into what looks to be a master bedroom. The footage follows the movement and when the feed changes to another camera you had hidden Sam whistles. “And that is NOT Eaitons wife.”

“Course not.” Bucky chuckles, pulling out his phone to enter in the address on the intel. “What do you know about him?”

“Nothing much. Was on Congress, just got removed but they didn’t announce it. Kept the whole thing hush hush. Last I talked to Yelena she was looking into his name, it’s why I recognized him so quickly.”

“The address isn’t far off, if we take the back roads we can avoid traffic.” Bucky explains, beginning to lead the way out of the apartment while already dialing on his phone. It rings and rings and rings.  Once the call fails he tries again and again and again. 

Finally it’s picked up, a brash voice filling his ears, out of breath. “Who the fuck keeps calling?!”

“Jared Eaiton, I’m calling to inform you that your life is in danger. I advise you to not hang up.” Bucky starts, watching Sams wings expand so he can take off as he straddles his bike. “I need you to do a couple things for me, starting with having you and the women you are with get dressed as normally as possible. I need you to act natural.”

“Why? For what?”

“Sir, there is a Widow somewhere near your apartment,” He explains, though part of him wants to let you get your revenge he knew you were better than this. You were more than a widow. “Step two, are you ready?”

- 

Inland taipans are generally calm and reclusive, preferring to escape from trouble. However, they will defend themselves and strike if provoked, mishandled, or prevented from escaping

- 

The Soldat moved easily with you, striding side by side as you prepared to take out the target. And normally you loved his proximity, but today it did nothing but give you anxiety. 

Something he seemed to be picking up on. 

Before you could split from him to follow the plan he grabs your elbow slowly, making sure to not trigger the fang puncture on your wrist, pulling you close to press his forehead against yours. “I don’t like this plan.”

“It’s a plan we have done many times.” You try to laugh, giving him your best pretty smile to push him off the track. It only makes it worse. 

“There is something wrong with you today.” He grunts out, keeping you close. “I don’t want to separate.”

“We do this, this is the plan.” You huff, “Don’t stress grumpy man.” 

You lean up on your toes to kiss his cheek, watching his eyes narrow at you a little more, but you smile like nothing is wrong once more. Leaving his arms and heading off. 

You didn’t have time, he had been a little grumpy this morning which meant he will work faster on the mission, and you had two kids to smuggle out before he caught you. 

You had made sure to take the side closest to their room for this mission, climbing up to the second story window and sliding in like a shadow. It takes 5 steps until you are in their room, and your heart expands the second you see them. 

They slept so soundly, looking so peaceful that you knew you were a villain just for having to wake them up. But you do, keeping a hand over their mouths to keep them calm as you order them in english. 

“I need you to listen.” You order, as they both try to move away. “Follow me. Now.” 

The boy jumps to do so, the girl however holds her ground until you get on her level. “Listen to me, you and your brother are in danger here. And unless you want him to be hurt you will follow me.”

And so they do. 

You work quickly, breaking a vase as you pass, spraying a bottle of fake blood to make it look like splatter before you have them hold onto you as you crawl out the same way you entered. 

The Agent you worked with most the time was already standing in the streetlight waiting for you to deliver them. “Go with him, he will keep you safe.”

The boy, once again, does not wait to run and you’re sure he is still half asleep. The girl keeps a firm clutch on your hand, forcing you to kneel as a loud bang sounds out, letting you know the Soldat is nearly done. 

“I need you to go.” You whisper, pushing some of the hair from her face and tracing her cheek with your fingers. “He’ll take care of you ….. I promise.”

She nods, crying, but runs off. 

And you don’t have time, but you watch anyways. The way the agent scoops them up and hugs them close, both their arms wrapped tightly around him. You envy it, and you hate it all in the same go. 

They will never see their parents again, they will never know the safety of their home. After today they are ruined. 

But you could at least make sure they get into the car safely before heading back, out of breath with tears falling down your face. 

You’re so panicked about time that you slip on your way in, slipping in the fake blood and slamming into the broken glass of the vase right as the Soldat comes around the corner in a fury. 

You panic, the rage written on his face makes you think he knows. He must know. This was the end and he would go back and find the kids, This will all be ruined. 

But the second he kneels in front of you the rage disappears, instead he is pulling at your limbs so he can look you over, checking you for any injuries you realize. 

“It’s not my blood.” You try to explain. 

“It is.” He snaps, eyes narrowing as he pulls a piece of glass from your hip. “You’re hurt.”

And when you look down you realize it is in fact some of your blood, since you had fallen on the vase. He pulls you to look back at him, keeping his hand on your jaw. “Let’s go home.”

He doesn’t check for the kids, he merely drags you away. 

- 

The target was acting weird, both him and his prostitute were. You knew better than that, and you refused to let this one slip away today, you were so sick of watching him and his hookers. 

So you grabbed your gear, and went to work. 

Never take the front door, that was the first rule. So you climbed onto the roof of his apartment building, finding the skylight and carving your way in, sliding down on a rope to land on your feet and pull out your knife prematurely. 

Immediately you know something is off, the sharp feeling in your spine makes you feel like there is a predator near. 

A predator you know all too well by the smell of leather. 

You can’t help the hiss that passes your lips as you whirl to find him, kicking out to knock him off his feet as soon as you can. Only he was prepared for that, catching your foot with his metal, pulling you close only to barely dodge the knife you slash at him, his eyes wide. 

You take his shock to your favor, slashing at him again, his metal arm coming up to protect him. The clash rings out and you hiss again, making him grunt out as you distribute the weight. Only to get knocked off your ass by another figure. 

You had been so distracted with your hate for the Soldat that you missed the red white and blue suit.

You waste no time to twist and attack at them, turning feral with the need to kill.  

And then the fight turns 2 against one. Every slash you make is dodged by a metal shield or a metal arm, every kick is met with one of their own, every punch is caught and pushed away. They both track your movements well, easily even. 

You kick the chest of the Captain, sending him reeling back, throwing a knife to trap his sleeve to the ground as you turn back to the Soldat and move to stab the knife down, he catches it between the crook of his metal arm, grunting out to keep you further back. 

“I don’t want to do this.” He grunts out as you push down with the knife, hissing. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Need?” You laugh bitterly. “I want to do this.”

And you almost got it until he kicked out your feet and sent you reeling back. 

You were getting desperate, panicked, and though you knew better than to let yourself get this way you couldn’t help it. So with no true aim you threw the knife, the Soldat catching it with one hand as you charge at him, triggering the fangs as you use his own knee to launch up, your knee pressing on his shoulder with your right hand pulling his hair to expose his neck while he drops the knife. 

Instead of pulling you off his arms come up to catch you, like natural instinct. And you are pathetic because you hesitate, this is your chance to get him and yet you feel tears in your eyes as you can’t even push your hand to get him. 

And then you’re being thrown as something hits your back, air leaving your lungs. 

Pain laces through you as you fly off him, the shield flying back to the Captain while you fall to the ground. 

Not only do you feel the pain in your back but your hip hits the floor and you cry out, struggling to get back to your feet to keep fighting. 

“Hey! Don’t you dare!” The man in the USA suit orders, pointing at you like you are a dog. “Stop.”

You hiss while the Soldat chuckles, wiping some of the blood from his lip. “Listen-”

“Fuck you!” You yell, lunging out to attack but it’s no use as you crumble to the ground, your hip giving out. He’s quick to go to help you, only to be pushed back as you reach to snatch another knife only for his boot to step on it. 

“You used to be better at this.” He huffs out, still breathing heavily as the other one comes closer. 

You want to kill him, to yell at him and hit him. You want to tell him that he’s the reason for all of this. But the tears are falling and your hip is throbbing. 

You’re useless. 

“Kill me.” You snap. “Just do it. Get it over with.”

You watch as his face crumbles, pain lacing his features while his partner takes charge. 

“We are here to help you, that is all.” He starts. “You want revenge, that’s understandable. But there are better ways, I promise you.”

“Better ways?” You hiss out a laugh through the tears. “You’re kidding me.”

“You want to ruin these men, and I understand.” He leans down, and you risk a look to the Soldat, who is watching you with a devastating look, you are forced to turn back to the other to avoid getting sick. “You have information on them, you can testify-”

“What? So they can get out of it?” 

“No, they could serve time in-”

“COULD. They could.”

“Then we get revenge.” It’s the Soldat that says this, his voice tight. “We will, I promise. You work with Sam and I and we will get intel on them all, enough so that they don’t have a chance. But no killing.”

You look back and forth between them, watching as they have a silent conversation between them, before the captain finally nods with a deep sigh. 

Soldat turns back to you, kicking the knife to you gently. “Come on.”

“I can get you a full pardon.” His partner offers. “Full pardon of all crimes within the red room to now. So long as the three of us work together.”

“My entire list?” You sneer, risking a look to the Soldat one more time. 

“Entire list.” He nods, watching you closely. 

And then it clicks for you. You’re trapped here, there is no doubt. But if you could get closer, to trap him in, you could finish your promise to yourself. 

You can kill him. 

So, with a final hiss and tears falling down your face you nod slowly, clutching your hands into fists as you answer with a ‘deal.’

- 

The inland taipan is a specialist hunter of mammals, and its venom is adapted to kill warm-blooded species. The venom acts quickly to kill the prey before they can bite back or escape

- 

The Soldat helps you the entire way, even though you weren’t actually hurt, which you tried to tell him. But the arguments were no use, he would hear none of it, instead he pushed to carry you until you both made it home. 

He hauls you to the bathroom, setting you down to start the water and let it heat up before removing your suit as slowly as possible. Once the suit of off he helps you sit down so the cut is exposed and he can clean it. 

The fact that such a small cut would bother him so much nearly makes you laugh, but it also gives you butterflies, and you wonder if this is how normal people feel. So you lean forward, grabbing his attention. And without thinking you kiss him, your lips meeting his as you melt into him. 

This would change everything, and you know it, but you don’t care. And he didn’t either by the way his arms wrap around you, melting into the kiss just as you had. 

- 

You were going to kill the Soldat, it was something you had promised yourself long ago. In the darkened cell they had kept you in, near dead, the only thing keeping you from giving up was that promise. 

‘I will not leave this earth unless he is gone from it’ 

You would kill him, this was fact, no matter what you had to do. Once you did that you could kill yourself.  This final mission was yours.

-

[lovebillyhargrove]

Part 2 of this

👑⚔️ king Steven x knight William ⚔️👑

***

The mysterious knight does not provide any further information about his background. William only says that he himself remains hoping that one day memory will serve him better and he will be able to shed more light on where he comes from and why he was found dying on king Steven's land.

The king finds it odd, but everything is odd about the knight clad in dark armour,

Who is bathed in sunshine, whenever he loses the iron of his warlike suit.

And Steven finds the strangeness even more beguiling.

The most uncanny thing is the king's fervent desire which consumes his whole being when Steven finds himself close to the knight, or when he finds himself far from him —

The distance does not really matter. If they happen to be apart for several hours, Steven gets lost in sweetest elation — he dreams of the moment when he will see the knight again — his gaze turning hazy and thoughts unfocused. The dire necessity to always be near William, not lose a single grain of time that can be spent together, baffles the king for he has never felt anything alike.

The constant craving makes his body ache for the knight's closeness and attention, salivate in anticipation of possible pleasures.

At first, it is unclear where William stands regarding the king's intentions, for one second Steven catches the knight looking at him, desperate to hide the deep-lying longing in his abysmal eyes — and failing to do so,

The king's gaze mirrors the yearning, the two tides violently clash

However, seconds pass, and the handsome barbarian puts distance between them, as though forcing himself to do it, forcing himself to fall back to chivalrous conduct.

The king keeps the knight always by his side, they get carried away by lengthy conversations, take long walks on the sea shore and in the woods, they feast and indulge themselves in intellectual pleasures, listening to musicians and reading poetry to one another. As soon as William's wounds have healed, the two young men compete in archery and swordplay, and the virtuous king often seeks advice from knight William regarding kingdom affairs.

Eventually, neither of them — they are destined to be lovers — can escape the current. A chaste kiss brings them to heaven, and is followed by a rough and at the same time inexplicably tender embrace which turns them both to molten steel, soft and pliant,

Yet unbreakable and oh so hot to the touch.

They share the bed, and Steven ascends to wuthering heights every time he lays his hands on the knight's silk like skin. Once the dam has been broken, there is nothing chaste in the way they touch each other.

The king is blinded by passion, and so is the knight, who whispers

Tracing his fingertips over Steve's face, following the pattern of his scars

"My king, your beauty is utterly entrancing. You have spellbound me, put me to my knees."

The king cannot spend a single night without his knight, and after they satisfy their mutual hunger, he nestles his head against William's strong shoulder and slides into blissful sleep.

Needless to say, king Steven's previous engagement to princess Nancy from the neighbouring kingdom is scandalously broken off.

***

One day the king finds William in the garden looking troubled

"I must leave you for an uncertain amount of time since I have urgent business. I need to free my sister. There is a place in the mountains — a passage to the underworld where she is being held against her will by terrifying creatures."

"Your sister? .. Have you remembered your past?"

"Not all of it." The evasiveness of the knight's answer eludes king Steven. "I have been having dreams. She is calling for me."

"Then I shall accompany you in your difficult quest."

The knight wants to protest

"If I may, your majesty, this is too dangerous .."

But the king doesn't give him a chance to finish the sentence pressing his lips to William's.

Steven knows the place he is talking about — years ago he fought a creature there, the demogorgon, as people have called it.

However, the crack is now closed and there is no way to get to the underworld.

"Do not fall into despair. I know who might help us." Says Steven.

They go to the woods to pay a visit to a young witch who does not talk and leads a solitary life.

"My people wanted to banish her from the kingdom, but I insisted that she stay. However, she lives alone in the woods, only occasionally coming to Sunday market in town square."

The witch helps the two men to open the gate to the underworld.

They stand back to back, fighting with a bloodthirsty horde of strange creatures that look like dogs, and although the king is an experienced fighter, he does not fail to notice how on several occasions William bravely rushes to protect him with his shield, or sword, or his own body.

It takes a massacre to free a young woman with noble features and hair fiery like dancing flames. Her name sounds outlandish

Maxine, her brother calls her.

Steven offers her rooms in his castle, the sister and brother spend time together, and Maxine also starts to frequent the witch who lives in the woods.

One day she addresses king Steven

"There is no measure for my brother's and my own gratitude for saving first him, then me. Your heart is good and pure and .. my brother's heart is good as well. However, I feel it is my obligation to warn you. Not necessarily wishing to bring it upon your head, he still might do you harm for .. for he is haunted, haunted by .."

She wants to say more but the sound of the opening door stops words from leaving her mouth.

"I have been looking for you, king. The weather is gorgeous. The horses are ready. Should you agree, we could go for a ride in the blooming meadow." The knight suggests.

..

They make love laying amidst the tall grass and flowers which sough gently in the warm breeze sweeping over the honey meadow, and Steven forgets all that William's sister has told him.

..

In the morning when the king wakes up, he sees William sitting beside him, head down, hair cascading around his slouched shoulders.

A dark shadow runs over his impeccably handsome face as he lifts his head up, avoiding direct eye contact

"Forgive me, my lover, for my intentions, unlike my passion for you, have indeed not been entirely pure." The knight looks as if he is in physical pain, and his voice falters

With one swift motion, William puts the heavy shakles around the king's wrists.

At the same time Steven hears voices coming from the outside, the frightened cries of women and the unusual commotion.

King Steven's eyes are full of disbelief, searching William's distraught face.

Soldiers wearing black have invaded the streets of his town.

Someone must have opened the gates at night.

Betrayal.

"Why .. my love, why would you ..?"

***

Part 3

The witch in the woods is Eleven.

[singingcicadas]

More thoughts on Cyclonus.

Nova's evaluation of him in this panel is brutally accurate. That last sentence. Ouch.

On the surface level Cyclonus appears to be portrayed as this stiff proud warrior with an austere, diehard take on his own internal code of honour and patriotism, but the more I think about it his actual character is pretty much the opposite? He doesn't have any hardfast values or stances of his own aside from shallow romanticism for the preachings of others.

His whole life is comprised of hanging onto other people. First it's Nova and his group, despite Nova and Jhiaxius looking down on him and insulting him to his face and being very forthright about the actual purpose of their mission, which Cyclonus apparently had different ideals about. Theoretically. But he didn't say anything after Nova corrected him.

Then it's Galvatron, after Galvatron backstabbed Nova. Even when Galvatron became increasingly unhinged and violent toward him and also started insulting him to his face, he still continued to follow Galvatron around because Galvatron's powerful, hope he stays on our side.

Then after he broke off from Galvatron post-Chaos Theory he joined the Lost Light, an Autobot ship, despite not liking Autobots, because it had something that he wanted: the chance to start again.

His defense for murdering all those people in Kimia is literally "he made me do it." That's all he can come up with. He even knows it's a bad excuse.

And he always corrects people when they assume he's a Decepticon. Here he directly says that he doesn't want to be a Decepticon. Why not, if he clearly admires their ideology?

One possible reason is maybe he doesn't like their ideology that much. Enough to romanticize it from a safe distance but not enough to commit to it himself (since doing that would force him to do actual introspection about his own role in what made the Decepticon ideology so appealing in the first place). Second reason's simpler: Decepticons have to wear inhibitor chips. No thanks. They're the losing side.

Once on board the Lost Light he followed Rodimus' command fine despite Rodimus accusing him of murdering Red Alert without any proof. Then after he developed a relationship with Tailgate, he put Tailgate up on a pedestal and made Tailgate the center of his universe.

But then there's also this 🔽 after he thought Tailgate dumped him:

I don't even know what he's trying to do there😂

His lack of true conviction is evident in the little things too: he thinks it's unethical for Rodimus to perform mnemosurgery on Tailgate while he's unconscious and unable to give consent but drops the subject after Rodimus distracted him with fireworks. He thinks that mutiliating an enemy's corpse is appalling but doesn't say anything when Rodimus said they were going to use Skip's corpse as a shuttle to get off Necroworld. It's Nautica who raised ethical objections, not him. He's supposed to be really religious but when the guiding hand did their big reveal at the end of Lost Light, he got nearly zero lines because of compressed screentime except to argue with Epistemus over sending Tailgate into danger.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that Cyclonus is essentially a go-with-the-flow sort of person. Nothing he holds is uncompromisable. Not his ideals, not his values, not his pride, not his faith. To an extent, not even his love for Tailgate, at least not completely, because he left when Tailgate told him to leave even when he suspected that Tailgate was lying about not loving him without making more of an effort to understand why. It all depends on the person he's hanging on to at the moment. And his choice of which leader to follow is ultimately based on self-serving reasons. This pattern is first broken when he turns on Galvatron, then fully subverted after he learns to love Tailgate as a sign of character growth.

He's not an intrinsically cruel or callous person. The way he learns to love Tailgate, befriend Whirl, and being kind and supportive to everyone when Rodimus left him in charge on the Necroworld are all attestments of his better nature. Water takes the shape of the container in which it's kept; surround him with people like Galvatron and Nova and he'll be their murder machine. Put him in the company of people who's mostly decent like the Lost Light crew and he'll grow into a compassionate person and a reliable friend.

[darylscigarettesmoke]

Daryl is weak.

Okay, bold headline. I’m a journalist I know how clickbait works. Jokes aside, hear me out.

A lot of fans say that Daryl acts totally out of character in the second season of his spin-off. Getting close to a woman that quickly. Kissing her. Not thinking about going home anymore or not fighting tooth and nail to get there anymore.

And while I very much agree and the Daryl from the Spin-Off doesn’t feel like the Daryl from the flagship show anymore, there’s a pattern I’ve noticed throughout the series.

The word Daryl gets described the most is probably “loyal”. But what if he’s not that “loyal” man, everyone makes him out to be?

Daryl’s not good alone. He needs people. He latches on to them. First it was Merle, his bad influence of a brother. Then it was Rick and the group. He needs a role model. Someone to follow.

what happens though if you take away his role model, is always the same thing. He falls into despair, latches onto someone else and forgets where he came from.

Remember the arc after the prison fell? He was stuck with Beth, thought the group is dead. But instead of making use of his tracking abilities, determination, pure willpower to prove himself wrong and see that most folks are still alive or just whatever to find out if the other’s are really dead, he succumbs to pessimism and suggests to Beth to just stay at the funeral home, doing nothing but playing house. He would’ve stayed there for much longer if Beth hadn’t gone kidnapped. Once Beth was gone, he stucked to the Claimers until Rick came along again…

Same thing with Leah. He believed his leader (Rick) to be dead, his guilt made him shy away from his family, he lived in the woods until Leah came along. It took him longer than with Beth to finally give in and decide to stay with Leah, but still - he isolated himself from the thoughts of his family and stayed with a woman - and yet again, he would have stayed there, away from his family, if Leah hadn’t left herself. He didn’t have a clue about what’s happening in Alexandria, with the Whisperers, with Rick’s kids and probably didn’t wanna know either.

Rinse and repeat we got Isabelle. In this case, it’s even worse because Daryl’s stuck in another country. But again he’s far away from his family, again there is a woman, again he’s latching onto her and yet again he is forgetting about his people back home to the point where he’s almost not considering to go back anymore at all.

Daryl always needs a circumstance, a death, a kidnapping, or a person (Carol?) to pull him back to reality and to remind him who he is and what he might’ve left behind.

It’s also highly ironic to me that the Villain of the season, that cult leader, describes what’s going on with Daryl in Episode 2x03 perfectly:

“Must be hard living without a semblance of faith. No organizing principle, nothing to cling to [….] a man alone it’s a sad state.”

Daryl always believes he is alone, that his group has given up on him. His low self-esteem and the thing’s he had to endure prevent him from seeing how loved he is. But he’s never been truly alone, after he found Rick’s group.

Having to fend for himself as a kid has left his mark on him, so he’s clinging onto people, desperate of not wanting to be alone.

Now that doesn’t go without saying that I don’t believe Daryl didn’t find something in France. He found what he wishes for - a family of his own and to not be the “lonely man” anymore. But it’s time to come back from Neverland, to achieve that dream.

With all of these things considered I start to believe the Daryl we all know and love is still there - he just needs to be reminded that he is loved, cared for and so, so missed.

Edit: Some more notes. That is just a poor explanation/interpretation of bad writing in the Spin-Off. When Daryl said he wasn’t sure of what he was looking for when he left the Commonwealth, that made it clear as day the writers absolutely intend to retcon this beloved character and all of his core characteristics to pretend Daryl’s this blank page, a character without history. But this doesn’t work and I hope they’ll notice it soon enough.

[littleliterarylesbian]

James didn't mean for it to end up like this. Honest! At first it was more of a caution thing. Sirius said he was worried about Regulus while tipsy, borderline drunk, and James, being the good friend he is, decided to look into it.

It started small. He would follow the name with the map at night until it eventually stayed in the dorms, until one night he saw the name start up again after only about an hour of being stationary. It couldn't be going to the Astronomy Tower, the first years were still in class, and he wanted to make sure Regulus was safe.

So after a few seconds of contemplation he grabbed the cloak and snuck out, using the map to guide him until he caught sight of pale freckled skin.

James remembers his breath catching for the first time at the sight in front of him, how the moon seemed to light up his skin, highlighting the curls in his black hair, showing off the stark white streak, and the jewelry that he adorns himself with.

There was something inside him that realized that this sight, the sight of Regulus star gazing in a small alcove with a book open but not being read, was all his own. The openness within silver eyes so different compared to the apathy that is usually shown.

James could feel his neck constrict as suddenly the urge to take filled him. But he couldn't. That's... that's wrong. But he can't leave now, Regulus would hear his steps, know that someone was here with him without his consent.

At least that's the excuse he gave himself at the time. He doesn't know how long he stayed there, watching with his fists clenched at his sides. He hadn't noticed before, but the streak of blond goes all the way to Regulus' lashes. It's mesmerizing. Connecting the freckles into the stars and patterns that the other is watching.

He feels so guilty the day after, he doesn't look anyone in the eye and just the sight of Regulus in the great hall is enough to heat his face to the point that he feels lightheaded. He's lucky that it's hard to tell. He doesn't plan to do it again. It makes him a bit sick to think that he did that in the first place, that he just couldn't help himself like the usual sick excuse people give when they're caught like that.

But he does. He does do it again. He can't help it. The image stays stuck inside his mind, and it warps his fantasies. Green eyes turn grey as the curtains around his bed are spelled shut, pale skin that loses its rosy undertone as he closes his eyes tight to lose himself in his imagination.

He needed to see it again.

It was months of the same thing over and over again. Promises that he won't go again, that he won't do anything again, that he'll give back the small collection of rings that don't fit his own fingers and fess up. He doesn't. He can't. He aches to be close. To feel soft skin against his own.

He knows if he's caught now it would be disastrous. Regulus wouldn't want anything to do with him. So he just has to keep their hidden moments together to himself. He doesn't even think he feels guilt anymore, just the stress of keeping it to himself. Not being able to brag about how he's seen every inch of Regulus, sneaking in when his roommates are out or when Quidditch games are over just to watch.

Not when it would leave him with a label that, while probably accurate, feels dirty. He's just looking. Admiring can't be that much of a crime, could it?

That doesn't mean he doesn't daydream about Regulus finding out, though. Mainly, it's about more improbable outcomes. How Regulus' eyes would go wide and coax him into the shadows like he hasn't already been the reason that James will be dragged to hell when he dies. But he's thought about the more realistic ones, and those are things he just can't let happen. He can't let Regulus look upon him with disgust and disdain, not when Regulus only just started to look at him at all.

So he'll keep it to himself until he's unable to. Keep their hidden moments together close to his chest. They're just for him. No one else.

companion piece :]