#I think this one is considered hurt/comfort

[antimony-medusa]

Okay so, Phil has blocked Dadza in his chat. He is responding to people calling him dad by saying that he's not people's dad. That's where we're at. And I have seen people on Twitter and in chat starting to panic about this. "Is papa okay," "Can we still call you Crowfather," "is fic okay", "can we still call mumza mumza", "what about peepaw," "Is art okay", "but you're my online father". It's kind of a mess there. So. Just to ponder this publicly, I want to go over a few things I see people starting to spiral about—

"Is Papa okay": I am inferring a little bit based on my age (I'm Phil's age) and my experience of having people just start mom-assigning me because of my age, and things like how Phil has reacted to people calling him dad, but I would say probably that things like papa and grandza and dad and pai and father might be something to be avoided in his chat/tts. He's blocked the term dadza, because you can block that specific term and not catch people talking about their family, but in terms of calling him other words for father, like, I will be honest here: people you don't know calling you their parent is not a socially neutral act. It's kind of a lot. He was going along with it during the pandemic, because people were desperate and hurting, but we are not in a place of social crisis any more. He doesn't want to be a father figure, he's just a guy. Just call him Phil, or Mr Minecraft, or Mr Za, Mr Kristin'sHusband if you have to have a title. Calling people some form of parent if you don't know them is very familiar and intimate, and if you don't know that person, it can come off as a lot. If it's happening over and over again, it's easy to get sick of it. Now you know.

"Can we still call mumza mumza" Okay so with this, she has a perfectly good name right there, but also she still has Mumza in her bio. People are not donoing her three times a week to ask her to be proud of them or to trauma dump. She's said it's okay. Consider just using her name if you're talking in chat, but you are not going to get timed out for mumza right now.

"We need to tell everyone in the tag," Okay so like sure, tell your friends what words not to use in chat, but Kristin was also in chat yesterday telling people that it's going to take a while for people to get used to this, so don't bully people. Streamers have said multiple times that they don't want their fans to get in fights or discourse or drama or bullying in their name. Just like— okay, now you know, now you can tell your friend what words to not use to avoid being timed out, now you know what not to do at a meet and greet— and then you can live your life. You do not need to police other people— the streamer has mods and blocked terms and can enforce this in his chat.

"Is fic still okay" Like okay. This is one that I am begging people not to ask the streamer personally. Do not make streamer weigh in on family dynamic fics— he doesn't read them, he's not interested, he's never read them. They have never been for the streamer (or for Kristin), they are for other fans who want to read about how cute it would be if SBI was babies and Phil was a good dad. Or how fucked up it would be if Tommy was kidnapped and menaced by Phil. Or how sad it would be if Technoblade was abused by Phil hashtag bad ending. Or how comforting it would be if Reader is abused and gets adopted by Phil and finally has a home and gets a hug. None of that has EVER been for the streamer to look at— he's not gonna like it! He's probably gonna find it weird, because it's people using his persona to do all kinds of things, half of which are literal crimes, often to his adult friends, but this character's got his name on him. There are all kind of fics that are just written because someone's got a fun/cute/sad idea, and nothing bad is intended about the actual streamer, cause the writer was thinking about the fic character that has his name, not the streamer in the north of england, but it's still going to be kind of weird for the streamer to hear about it.

That's why we don't bring up fic or certain types of art in chat ANYWAYS. Phil is not going to want to hear about the character with his name being mind broken so much worse by the ender king isn't it angsty. And that's not because there's anything off-colour about mind breaking his character via the ender king (I rub my hands together anticipatorily), that's because that's for other fans to go spam weeping emojis in the comments about, that's not for the streamer. Streamer is busy playing block game and watching space youtube and reading manga and being married to his lovely wife. He's not reading fic. Don't show him fic. Keep that over here with the people who actually want to read it. Fic is fine, you're just bashing dolls together, but don't show it to the streamer.

So, is fic still okay? It's okay, it's always been okay, just don't show it to streamer. You now know that he doesn't want to see dad stuff. That does not mean that you are doing something wrong if you write dad stuff off in your corner of tumblr, where he is not. Tag your stuff, don't put it in his chat or discord, and show it to people who are going to find it fun, not streamer. Make it so that he never has to think about that. Let him live his life. Don't put dad stuff in his chat or discord or mentions, let him be just a guy playing block game, and you're good.

[brittle-doughie]

So, considering how Eternal Sugar's Garden of Sloth is giving me Lotus Eater Vibes, I have this idea for a Y/N cookie.

What if, in the distant past, Y/N Cookie found themselves in Eternal Sugar's garden and ended up becoming ensnared by her charms like so many before them... but the difference being that Eternal Sugar ended up taking a special liking to them.

And through the power of her Soul Jam was able to render Y/N Cookie forever young... or at least slowed their aging down to a standstill so long as Y/N Cookie remained in the garden.

As time passed, Y/N Cookie slowly forgot more and more about life outside the garden, but with Hollyberry and her company's arrival, something... something in Y/N Cookie stirred.

For the first time in a long time, they wondered about the outside world, and so Y/N Blank approached these newcomers.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“My heavenly, what are you doing outside of your sanctuary? Have the Sugar Angels not tend to you yet? Do you need anything? I can provide.”

“Oh…you wanted to greet our guests? I am…okay with you doing that, but please wait for me before you leave your sanctuary.”

“No need to be sorry! I’m saying this because I cherish you too much! I just don’t want you getting hurt within my paradise, my heart cracks at even the thought of that!”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You had so many questions to ask these Cookies from beyond this place. What was it like? Were there more Cookies out there? Are these places just as happy to live in as the garden?

Eternal Sugar Cookie had other ideas. She’d never let you stray from her reach when you wanted to follow along the guests, her wing blocking your way and nudging you back to her.

And when you do get away from her, it wouldn’t be for long. She knew every single aspect of your routine and demeanor, why wouldn’t she? You were her special one, it would be more of a surprise if she didn’t!

Don’t get too comfortable with these visiting Cookies, she might have pull out annoying weeds from her garden if your eyes are on anywhere but her…

She hates having to play her lyre to bring you to her since she wants you to come to her on your own, she wanted to feel like you still had her on your mind. She should be the ONLY thing occupying your mind, because she fears you’ll forget her if you think too much about the Cookie world.

Please don’t forget her, she can’t bear the thought of that. You and her spent so much time together, she’ll D I E if you ever step foot outside the garden. You don’t want her to crumble from grief, do you? You want to stay, right? You’ll stay and be happy with her, R I G H T ?

Don’t leave….don’t leave….

You heard her, right? She’ll crumble without you!

Don’t leave….

Don’t…

Ever…

LEAVE…

Okay? :D

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

[atimelessheaven]

Can you please do a fic where Paige and azzi have a teen daughter

LETTER TO MOM

a pazzi series.

hey guysss! sorry ive been lacking on writing recently:/ finals, and life in general are kicking my ass. but here is this! i’ve decided to turn this request into a little series. as of now im not sure if it will be 2 or 3 parts… maybe more? idk. we will see!

fluff ◡̈

warning: mixed pov’s, probably some grammar errors (please ignore them!), and a mediocre plot. that’s all i think! let me know if i missed any.

enjoy!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

backstory: iris was born in 2027. the year of this story is 2041- making iris 14, paige 37, azzi 36. they have been in the league for 16, and 15 years. paige is still on the wings, azzi plays for the valkyries.

iris pov:

today has been tough.

i woke up late. i slipped in the shower. leaving my ankle all swollen, it hurts to move it. i made a bad grade on my science test, and one of my coaches yelled at me for being “lazy” i was in pain, and i just felt exhausted.

i am exhausted.

i feel like i can’t move.

it feels like i can’t even breath without someone getting mad at me.

life has just been hard.

to top it off i miss my mom.

i could never, and would never admit how much it really effects me. she’d feel bad, and i don’t want to put that burden on her.

since mom, and mama have jobs on two different sides of the country they decided it would be best if i stayed with mama during season, in san francisco.

it’s the longest five months of my life.

sure i see mom every now and then during the season, but it’s just not the same.

sometimes i just want to give her a hug.

have her hold me when i’m sad.

come home from school and tell her all about my day, every little detail.

or when i have something really exciting to tell her, i can’t see her live reaction unless it’s facetime.

that is not the same. not even close.

it’s all just caught up to me. right about now i just want my mom to hold me.

since that’s not possible right now, i’ve resorted to the next best thing-

crying myself to sleep wearing moms hoodie that smells like her, holding my build a bear that has her voice in it.

sure it might seem dramatic, she hasn’t died or anything, but if you were in my shoes, you’d understand.

azzi pov:

iris has been home from school for three hours now, and she’s been awfully quiet.

i mean the girl hasn’t even came into the kitchen to get a snack.

something is up with my kid.

that child is ravenous after school, i need to find out what’s wrong a-s-a-p as possible (hehehehe)

i walk to her room and knock, getting no response.

typically i’d just leave her alone but i just feel off, she’s acting off. so i go in.

when i walk in i immediately just freeze mid stride into her room to access the scene in front of me.

my sweet iris girl asleep wearing her moms hoodie, holding her comfort bear with my wife’s voice inside, a wet pillow and tear stained cheeks.

welp.. my mama heart just shattered.

i walked over and gave her a forehead kiss, taking a picture to send my wife. then left her room.

it’s about 9:00 for paige, but she still responds to the picture i sent her relatively fast considering i know she’s tired after a long day of training and would be going to sleep very soon.

from paige- “well i am now officially going to join her in the crying myself to sleep club. i miss my girls. so sad my sweet baby is struggling with me being away. i feel awful.”

right as i go to reply i hear iris headed into the kitchen where i am, so i quickly respond with a “we miss you too.”

“hi babe, how was school today?” i say as i catch iris having to physically hold her up while she completely melted into me.

“i don’t wanna talk about it.” iris mumbles, voice shakey.

“that’s okay, i’m here when you’re ready. you’ll never be forced to talk when you don’t wanna, but i do need you to recognize mom, and i are always here to listen when you’re ready, okay?”

“i know, i just..” iris began but decided against it, not wanting to be a burden.

“you just what?” azzi said encouraging her to finish her statement.

“i don’t want to be the bitchy teen who complains and makes life difficult when i’m so privileged. i mean i know you and mom have demanding jobs, and that it provides so many cool opportunities, but it’s also really hard sometimes. it’s hard having to travel around to a ton of places back to back, missing school, missing friends, missing the normalcy of a regular quiet life. on the flip side when im left behind with friends while yall go to games i feel lonely, not because i don’t like hanging out with my friends but because i miss my parents. you guys are my comfort people, i couldn’t do it without you. having mom be so far away for so long really takes a toll on me. and i promise you are enough and im not meaning you aren’t, but i just miss mom. i thought it would get easier as i got older having to be away from her, but if anything i think it’s gotten harder. i need my mom. i miss my mom. oh and also my day was just awful in general, and i was thinking about all of that and so i just starting spiraling.” iris says pretty quickly, tears showing in her eyes once again. azzi can tell this has been eating at her for a while.

“okay so how about we go get ready for bed, you can lay with me and we can finish this conversation alright?” azzi says pulling away from iris making her stand on her own.

“okay, but can we not tell mom?” iris asks quietly as they start walking towards azzi’s room.

azzi froze. “well uhm i might have taken a picture of you asleep earlier so she already knows sorta what’s going through your head. if you don’t want to explain it to her i’m not going to force you, but i think she’d like to know what’s going on completely if you’re willing to let her in on it. can i ask why you don’t want to tell her?”

“well i love mom, but i know how she is. you do too. she’s going to feel guilty when it’s not even her fault and i don’t wanna stress her out. iris says looking at azzi

“you make a compelling case, but i want to offer my counter argument. as much as that is true, i think she would feel worse if you didn’t tell her what was bothering you, and she found out it was for her sake. that would make her feel more terrible. also we both know she’s going to ask you about that picture i sent, you can’t lie then. she reads you too well. you aren’t slick enough for that.” azzi says laughing thinking of all the times her daughter has given herself away with her terrible lying skills. let’s just say she shouldn’t play poker, or ever commit a crime.

she laughs along with her mom, “you’re right, i should tell her. i just don’t know how i should. i don’t want her to see me cry, or worse she cries. i’d feel so bad if mom cried over this. mama what do i do?” iris says suddenly panicking at the thought of making her mom cry.

“okay calm down, you don’t have to explain it directly to her, you could write her a letter like you used to do as a kid, i think that would cheer her up. very sentimental, and nostalgic. perfect. she’ll love it, and you don’t have to show any emotions you don’t want to, just write what you want.”

“wait that’s a great idea. i can be like so vulnerable, and she’ll never have to see me cry, and i won’t have to see her initial reaction.” iris says feeling so confident in this idea.

“okay okay, now let’s for real get ready for bed, go lay in my room and watch a movie. how does that sound?” azzi says as she starts walking to her room grabbing iris’ hand to take her along with her.

*about ten minutes later they’re both snuggled up in bed watching tangled*

“oh iris look, paige is facetiming us!” azzi says excitedly as she answers the call, while pausing the movie.

“hi my babies! i miss you guys so much!” paige immediately says as the call connects. “omg iris i saw the cutest dog earlier and forgot to send you the picture i took, i just knew you’d love it.” is how paige started their nightly catch up of their day conversation.

“awww i wanna see the puppy, i wish i could’ve been there to see it in person.” iris replies, lighting up at the idea of a cute puppy. “mom can i get a puppy?”

“absolutely not. iris that would be a disaster. poor thing would either have to travel a lot, or stay behind with a pet sitter. not plausible sadly at the moment. maybe in the future! we can add it to our family bucket list!” paige says letting iris down as gently as possible, but trying to cheer her up in the moment.

“ugh. that’s so unfair, i would take it on walks and everything.” iris says grumbling. azzi just rolls her eyes staying out of the conversation.

“so what were you two up to before i called?” paige says curiously.

“TANGLED!” azzi, and iris respond at the same time.

“i should’ve known, you guys literally don’t know of any other movies.” paige says laughing a little at their excitement

“that’s so not true, we also watch zootopia.” iris responds in a matter of fact tone, like paige had just offended her with the movie comment. she’s very well versed in her disney movies.

“and hamilton.” azzi says agreeing with iris.

“okay, okay i get it. now i say you guys start it over, so we can press play at the same time and watch together!” paige suggests

*approximately 47 minutes into the movie iris was out cold.*

“paige, look.” azzi said getting her attention, turning the phone to show iris sound asleep on her shoulder.

“aww our little baby isn’t so little anymore is she?” paige says smiling at the sight of her peaceful daughter.

“i know. it’s crazy to think that just ten years ago all she cared about was if she could eat candy for breakfast, and wear her princess dresses in public, now she’s worried about our feelings, and feels like she’s carrying the world on her shoulders. i just wish i could save her from everything, especially her own mind sometimes.” azzi whispered to paige, while lovingly looking down at iris, gently rubbing her back.

“i love her just how she is, but i know she’s way too caring for this world. she has so much empathy. i don’t ever want it to hurt her. i just want to protect her from everything. she’s my baby.” paige says agreeing with azzi. “what happened earlier today? why was our baby so sad?” paige asks

“it has to do with her caring too much about our feelings over her own. she didn’t want me to tell you, but i can say you’ll find out very soon.” azzi says.

very soon.

[aries-the-red05]

🦴 - Is anyone in your system dating? If so, who is the strangest pair?

We have a few people dating but the pair that most would consider strange would be caelum and omicron, an alien and an computer.

💀 - Is there a particular source you have a lot of fictives from?

We currently only have one source where multiple fictives come from and its roblox pressure.

🪦 - Who has the strangest habits?

i d0. i liKe t0 biTe my fiNgers >:3 -Uzi

⚰️ - Do you have any nonverbal headmates?

E. Asher, Bosco, and (pseudo) are nonverbal/cant talk.

🕷 - Who is the worst at masking?

No one is bad at masking but if I had to say which one practices the least restraint in would be Vivian.

🕸 - How did your headmates get their names?

Normally when asked they provide their name.

☠️ - Do you have any headmates with colored hair,piercings, or tattoos?

Caelum, clio, leshy, uzi, and Vivian have unnatural hair color, and uzi also has piercings.

🔪 - How consistent are you with logging switches?

We don't log our switches at all.

🧿 - Is there anyone who spends most of their time in front complaining?

I (Lyre) spend most of the time in front but none of us spend most of our time complaining.

🎃 - Is there anything specific you do to help introjects feel more comfortable?

I let them decorate their room however they like in Headspace and I tend to try to let them front for a while after they form.

👻 - How did you discover your plurality/systemhood?

I discovered it because of moon knight and @ectobabble and they're fanfic "The Imposter"

🩸 - Is there anyone who absolutely hates their source?

Bill cipher hates his source since introject bill cipher messes with people with pranks whereas source bill just likes to hurt people.

🦇 - Are there any songs that you associate with systemhood/plurality or your system as a whole?

We don't really have many songs we associate with plurality or the system as a whole but we like finding music.

🐈‍⬛- Is there anyone who identifies as otherkin/therian?

Me (Lyre), Bosco, caelum, Ouroboriel, Rémy, and Vivian all identify as either therian or nonhuman.

🔮 - How does your system determine who handles certain tasks/responsibilities?

We don't. At least unless someone offers to handle certain tasks or responsibilities I (Lyre) tend to deal with everything.

⛓️ - Funniest quote out of context

"I may be narcissistic but I draw the line at my corpse" -our William afton fictive after one of our friends said "hear me out" to springtrap.

🧟‍♂️ - Who is the most outwardly intimating? Are they viewed the same way within the system?

The most outwardly intimidating is Clemens but in Headspace he is chill but a little stern.

🕯- Do your system's littles use "Baby Talk"?

I don't know what that is but I don't think he does.

⬛ - Is there anyone who has a unique/ non-traditional role?

Not really.

🪳 - How do you visualize your headmates? (Drawing them,picrew,etc)

We typically use picrew but sometimes with fictives we use fan art from pintrest.

System Ask Game #3

🦴 - Is anyone in your system dating? If so, who is the strangest pair?

💀 - Is there a particular source you have a lot of fictives from?

🪦 - Who has the strangest habits?

⚰️ - Do you have any nonverbal headmates?

🕷 - Who is the worst at masking?

🕸 - How did your headmates get their names?

☠️ - Do you have any headmates with colored hair,piercings, or tattoos?

🔪 - How consistent are you with logging switches?

🧿 - Is there anyone who spends most of their time in front complaining?

🎃 - Is there anything specific you do to help introjects feel more comfortable?

👻 - How did you discover your plurality/systemhood?

🩸 - Is there anyone who absolutely hates their source?

🦇 - Are there any songs that you associate with systemhood/plurality or your system as a whole?

🐈‍⬛- Is there anyone who identifies as otherkin/therian?

🔮 - How does your system determine who handles certain tasks/responsibilities?

🧟‍♂️ - Who is the most outwardly intimating? Are they viewed the same way within the system?

🕯- Do your system's littles use "Baby Talk"?

⛓️ - Funniest quote out of context

⬛ - Is there anyone who has a unique/ non-traditional role?

🪳 - How do you visualize your headmates? (Drawing them,picrew,etc)

[h3catee]

Introductions Are in Order

Paring: Robert Reynoldsx Fem!Witch Reader! Past Avenger!  

Summary: Bucky asks a favor of you and ends up getting you entangled with one of Valentinas ploys. 

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS*,  talks of mental health, depression, anxiety. Some violence (bc its marvel), some language. Trauma. Angst. Decent amount of Hurt/ With some comfort! 

Word count: 2.7k

AN: Hi! Welcome to my fic! this is probably multi part idk my plans yet. I'm leaning more towards multi-part bc I'm usually a chapter by chapter writer so there isn’t a lot of Bob in this one but I hope its a good intro to maybe a 2-3 parts. I literally fell in love with Bob's character during Thunderbolts and this man gave me motivation to write again. I didn't have a Beta reader for this one so pls forgive any grammer or silly mistakes. Forewarning (y/n)’s powers based off of the Marvel character Morgan le Fay just to throw that out there, she’s definitely not Wanda but definitely not Morgan. Think morally gray/ hates everyone except like 3 people/ witch trained by the past avengers. Next part will have more Bob I promise, just wanted to introduce the story here >:3

Song for the chapter: https://open.spotify.com/track/09fDemXgXzRReTfb7UWxjD?si=7e0b5d606b824813 

xoxox

⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

“I need your help with something.” 

You sighed heavily before responding, “Hello to you too Senator Barnes!” You heard the man grumble from the other phone line. 

“You know I hate when you call me that,” Bucky said. 

“Well…what do you want, Buck?” You said, rolling your eyes. You look around your empty apartment for something to fidget with while Bucky chews your ear off about calling him another stupid nickname. 

“Y/N, Valentina’s got this guy apparently named Bob-” 

“Bob?” You ask, cutting him off. Who names their kid Bob in this day and age? 

“Yes, Bob! I’m with Nat’s sister and she said we have to go get him because he’s part of some Sentry project,” He explained, voices yelling at him in the background of the phone call. “Can you just meet us at the tower?” 

A wave of nausea rolled over you, “The tower? Bucky, I don't go around there anymore.” 

“I know, but I wouldn’t be calling you if I had anyone else to call.” 

“How nice,” you taunt. You were never any of the Avengers first calls. To be fair you weren’t sure if it is because they were scared of you or your lack of social skills. “Also Nat’s sister?” 

“Later,” Which means he says he’ll tell you later but in reality he’s never going to bring it up again unless you find the answer yourself. 

You sigh, walking over to the bookshelf in your apartment that’s filled with books, both regular and magical, and pictures. Your hand brushes across a photo of yourself, Steven Strange, and Wanda, “I don’t fight anymore Bucky. You couldn’t just ask Sam?” 

“He’s uhmm..busy,” He answered, “I know how you’re feeling y/n.” 

“You don’t,” You interrupt. How could he possibly understand how you’re feeling when he barely reaches out to you unless he needs something. Him and the rest of the remaining team abandoned you, after Wanda, you had no one to turn to. You felt the all too familiar dull ache in your chest. You chewed on the skin around your nails waiting for Bucky to respond. 

“ I think we need you for this one.” Which means in Bucky terms that whoever they are fighting is a mutant and something he can’t fight. 

“Fuck,” You mutter to yourself. 

Ever since Wanda vanished you refused to step back out on the field.She was the only one that truly knew what you were capable of considering she was the one that found you all those years ago. Not even Thor, a god, could hold you back during training sessions and the only avenger to understand your pain was Wanda. And now she’s- 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to ground yourself. You haven’t been able to sense her magic anywhere. No matter what realm you went to, you couldn’t find her. 

Fuck you Bucky Barnes. 

⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

“She already knows we’re here,” You try to explain to the group in front of you. Bucky gave you and the rest of the team a run down of Sentry and what Mel, Valentinas assistant, told him about Bob. That doesn’t stop them from driving a truck through the lobby destroying the front of the building in the process, “Awesome,” You have no choice but to join the fight to defend the group. Defense only, you tell yourself 

While Walker has his back turned, a soldier on the ground fires a few stray bullets, you toss your hand up and redirect the shots to the wall behind him, “Watch yourself walker,” You growled. Before he could reply you went back to the fight. Using your magic to cast illusions into the minds of the soldiers fighting to give the group an advantage when attacking.

“I just had that drywall put in. You can just come up, you know that right.” Valentina’s voice rang out over the intercoms, “But I know you knew that already y/n. Come on up!” 

Yelena and Ava looked at you, knowing you had previously stated that and they had just refused to listen. You just rolled your eyes at them before motioning them to go in the elevator. 

“You are not coming,” Yelena asked as the group of 5 squeezed into the elevator. 

You shake your head before pointing up. You close your eyes and feel the familiar stomach reeling feeling of teleporting to where the penthouse once was. Where you shared few but long lasting memories. Your eyes wander across the empty walls and fairly empty room before you look at Val. 

“Ah! Y/N, so lovely to see you darling. You see I’ve always wanted to work with you,” The woman said. 

“Can’t say the same,” You said in a sarcastic tone. 

“Hmm, well maybe he’ll change your mind.” You just raise an eyebrow.

You don’t have the chase to question her because Bucky and the team come through the elevator doors ready to arrest her for crimes. You look between each person and back to Valentina, honestly not sure what is going on. 

That's when you feel it. A humming. Power. You look around only to notice no one else in the “Thunderbolts”, as Alexie is calling them, notices it. You try to pinpoint a mind to tap into to find where this power is from but you can’t, a black shadow blocking you out. Shit. 

“Meet Sentry.” 

You look up to where a man is clothed in a…ugly suit, with unnaturally yellow blonde hair. 

“Hey guys,” He greats. You study him for a second, the power dripping off of him but there's something else there, something all too familiar. You try to invade his mind but there's something keeping you out. You pull and claw at the black void keeping you out. 

“Y/n.” You vacate the attempt on his mind and meet his eyes. You cock your head to the side, he knows what you were doing, “That won’t work,” his voice coming out cautious. 

“Take care of them Robert,” Valentina orders. 

“I don’t want to hurt you guys,” Bob says, looking around at all of them in front of him, “Please just give yourselves in.” 

“Wait-” Yelena tries to interrupt. 

Alexie yells before running towards the man. Instead of following the rest of the team you stand back and observe. Everything they throw at him gets blocked or countered. Teleportation. Flight. Strength.

Bucky shoots at Bob only for the bullets to be sprayed back at him and Walker. You hold your hand up blocking the bullets and directing them towards the already broken window. Thats when Sentry notices you. 

“I knew I liked her,” Walker says to Bucky, getting ready to fight again. 

“Wanda’s not here to save you this time.” 

You barely move after hearing the voice in your head when the rest of the Thunderbolts move to attack Bob. You shake your head as if to clear your thoughts but you feel his eyes on you. Instead of the blue you saw earlier, Bob’s eyes have a golden hue. 

“She left you, just like you told her to.” 

“Stop,” You whisper to yourself, rage boiling beneath your skin. 

The fight breaks out and you watch as Bob grabs Bucky's Arm. 

“God damnit,” You whisper, before running towards the two to save Bucky. Bob tosses Bucky to the side, his arm now torn off. You shot a blast of energy towards him only for him to teleport out of the way. I don’t want to hurt you, You try to telepathically tell him. 

“You can’t hurt me,” He says aloud. 

“Says who,” You taunt. Your feet leave the floor before you can’t register your rage taking over. Blast after blast and nothing is hitting him. 

He teleports in front of you and grabs your neck. What he doesn’t expect is to look behind you and see a beach. A sunset. He furrows his brows as he looks around in confusion. 

That gives you enough time to grab his wrist and teleport out of his grasp. 

The illusion collapses around the two of you as you lose contact. With every fight you’ve been in, usually your opponent will be thrown off once coming out of the illusion but Bob…He raises a hand before you can counter and you slam into the concrete wall of Avengers Tower, the wall cracking behind you. 

 You feel an arm hook under your shoulders and begin to drag you to the elevator which you see is already occupied with the rest of the team besides you and Yelena. “Get off of me,” You grumble. You teleport out of her grasp and out of the tower completely. Your knees are wobbly beneath you and you assess your surroundings. Guard still up. 

“Are you hurt?” You turn and see Bucky running towards you, the rest of the Thunderbolts following in suit. 

“You know I’m not,” You used your magic to heal yourself immediately after the hit, “I tried to help Buck but I’m not strong enough anymore. I’m leaving.” 

“No, let us regroup and we can go back in,” Alexie tries to argue. 

“All of you just got your asses beat, you especially-” 

“Well I am just rusty but now I am ready to go,” The older super soldier bellows. 

You see Yelena put a hand over her eyes. You just laugh out of disbelief and begin to walk down the street. 

“Wait y/n,” Bucky follows after you, “Just wait-” 

You turn, he can feel the rage dripping off of you, “What!” You shout, “What do you want from me?” 

He just stares at you, “I was going to ask if you were okay.” 

You laugh, “Am I okay? God, you should've asked me that when Tony died. Or when I lost Vision and then lost Wanda. Or Nat. Or Steve.” 

“You acted like you didn’t even care about half of the team, what did you expect me to do?” He argues. 

“I didn’t want to hurt any of you!” You exclaim, letting your emotions run wild on the streets of New York, “If you think that up there I used all my power, you're wrong. I didn’t want to hurt any of you so I stayed away.” 

“But Wanda-” 

“But Wanda understood me, more than you or Tony or any of them. You don’t understand what I went through, what I’ve done. Bucky, you don’t know who I really am.” 

There was commotion behind you, taking your concentration away from the conversation. Citizens were pointing up towards the sky. You and Bucky exchange glances before running to where you could have a clear view of what they were looking at. 

A shadow of man floated above Avengers Tower. You watched as he raised a hand and all of a sudden a helicopter came crashing into a crane. Concrete and rubble began to fall from the buildings that were hit. People were screaming. 

Typical avenger in New York occurrence. 

You and Bucky split off to protect the people from being crushed. You used your magic to stop concrete from crushing a family and urged them to get into a building. 

“You’re alone,” You turned to see the man closer to you now. You recognized the voice from just minutes ago, Bob, “You’ve always been alone.” You just stare at him, “It eats you alive doesn’t it, y/n.” 

People are screaming, you turn to look behind you and see shadows of people spread across the floor in dark black smoke. You heart drops, what the fuck is this guy. 

“The pain goes away. Just come with me,” Bob captures your attention once again, “I can make it go away.” 

“How?” You whisper. He reaches a hand out to you. 

“Y/n! Stop!” Bucky shouts behind you but something in your mind is telling you to go. Telling you that everything will stop if you accept his hand. Everything will be quiet. Will the pain finally go away? 

“Y/n,” The distorted voice urges. 

That’s when you close your eyes and walk into the void. 

⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

You open your eyes and find yourself in an all too familiar room. One lined with archaic symbols preventing you from escaping. Your heart drops because you see yourself, younger, wounded, broken standing on the other side of the room. 

You know this day, you recognize it by the energy alone. This was the first time you killed someone. The first time you disintegrated someone's body and brain. 

“Y/N, Before you is a man who is being convicted of crimes against countless women, including your own mother,” You watched as your younger self balled her hands into fists, “Your task is to eliminate him.” 

Younger you nodded. 

“N-no,” You ran over to where you stood and wrapped your arms around your younger self, “you don’t have to do this,” 

“Get off of me,” Your body is thrown a few feet away from your younger self. That's when you feel it, the pain of a curse of 1000 sharp white-hot knives digging into you, you scream and writhe on the floor. That was your punishment when you were captured, if you ever disobeyed or failed, they cursed you over and over. 

“Stop,” You sob, the curse diminishing, “Stop,” You whisper, tears falling onto the floor beneath you. Your mind whirls and your limbs ache, like you’re gripped by a fever that burns through you like wildfire. 

“Y/n?” A male voice. 

You look towards a doorway where Bob stands, not Sentry, not Void but Bob. You squeeze your eyes shut to stop crying. 

“Oh god, I-I’m so sorry,” He runs over to you, “I-I can’t stop it,” He apologized. 

“I don’t understand,” Your voice comes out as a whisper, “What is this?” You finally sit up and watch the rest of the scene play out in front of you. 

You watch as younger you raises her hand towards the man and he begins to scream in agony. You watch as his skin flairs and melts. 

“Don’t look,” Bob urges, grabbing your arm and pulling your attention from the memory. There are tears in his blue eyes. He has brown hair now instead of the fake gold that Val gave him. He’s clothed in a sweater and tan pants. He honestly looks like he’s going to pass out. “I can’t do anything right, I’m so sorry,” He mumbles, “I-I don’t even know you and you’re stuck here with me. It’s this…void.” 

“How do we get out?” You ask, looking down to study your shaking hands. 

“I-I don’t know. There’s different rooms and each one just gets worse. I’m so sorry Y/n,” He begins to cry. Your heart shatters for a moment thinking about what he must go through if he deals with this constantly, now with the serum it must have fully taken over him. 

“Let’s just get out okay,” You place your hand on his thigh and he tenses beneath you. You squeeze his leg in reassurance before standing up, “P-please don’t tell anyone what you saw, I-I can’t. No one knows.” 

“I won’t, Why would I tell them?” He asks sincerely. All you can do is nod, “Y-you can trust me.” Once again, you just nod. 

“Do you think everyone else is in here?” You ask, trying to change the topic. 

“M-maybe,” He saying, shrinking in on himself. 

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m fine. We’ll all be fine,” You soothe, “Let’s just find them.” 

Thats how you ended up finding the team, fighting Bob in a chicken outfit, and getting out of the void. Only to have Valentina throw a new title on the group right after. 

The New Avengers. Including you. Awesome. 

And that’s how you ended up here, living in the tower after some much needed renovations. Bob didn’t remember anything after the Void incident but something told you to tell him. So you showed him through your magic. He apologized profusely to the team and kept his distance since then. Honestly, he reminds you a lot of yourself when you first joined the Avengers with Wanda. But you refuse to let him fall into that dark of a hole like you did. 

You want to save someone for yourself, for once. You want to save him. 

[heliza24]

A Devil's Minion disability rec list

There are so many reasons I love Daniel/Armand, but the most important is the way that thinking about these characters asks us to explore themes of illness, neurodivergence, disability, and dysfunctional bodies. From Armand being sick when he was turned, to Daniel's Parkinson's, to Armand being extremely autistic coded, to the way the past DM/book DM timeline is inextricable from the AIDs crisis-- you simply cannot escape crip themes when you contemplate Daniel and Armand's love. The other reason I love Devil's Minion so much is that the corner of the fandom that has sprung up around them does not try to escape these themes. Instead I have engaged in deep conversations about disability, met other disabled fans, and read so much incredibly thoughtful and beautifully written fics that explore aspects of disability that I would never have thought of myself. There is a lot of painful eugenics rhetoric happening in the US right now, and I have found myself being drawn back to these thoughtful fics when I need some comfort. So I compiled my list for you in case you would like to read them too:

The Good Nurse by @welcomingdisaster, 63,876 words, Explicit

This is a slight AU, where the second interview never happens and instead Armand is hired as Daniel’s live-in caregiver as his Parkinson’s progresses. The lyrical prose, along with the side plot of Daniel investigating a piece about conspiracy theories around autism that illuminate some interesting things about Armand, make this one really special.

Question: Can an Immortal Meet Mortality? by @hummingbee-o0o, 7,920 words, Mature

This is one of my all time favorites and I think about it all the time. I love when a fic weaves together the different pieces of Armand’s life around a single theme. This one centers around all of the epidemics that Armand has lived through, from the plague to AIDs to Covid. The recurring image of Daniel’s TB vaccination scar and the way Armand thanks it for keeping Daniel safe is so beautiful.

Run, Arun! by @nightcolorz, 3,274 words, Mature

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how Armand chose to violate the great laws when he turned Daniel, but hadn’t considered that Armand’s autism might make him feel like a violation himself. I also love how this is written in the second person, which is hard to pull off but this writer does really well.

hold very still by @mycenaae, 2,796 words, Mature

A fic that truly captures the chronically ill fantasy of having a vampire boyfriend: Armand uses his mind gift to take away Daniel’s Parkinson’s pain for a short while.

Backroads to Sonoma by burntcrimson 20,251, Mature

I am generally extremely picky with AUs but this is one of my all time favorites. In the middle of the AIDs crisis, Daniel is driving cross country, interviewing truckers and sex workers. He picks up a Armand as a hitchhiker, who he realizes he knows from childhood. Armand is sick and set on revenge, but his time with Daniel still leads to unexpected love.

I think this works so well as an AU because this version of Armand retains some of his otherworldliness and dangerousness; how that intersects with his diagnosis is really interesting. It’s also got the prose of like, the next great American novel, so that doesn’t hurt either.

Saffron by @maester-of-spreadsheets , 4,509 words, Teen

Set during season 1, Armand helps Daniel fall asleep despite his insomnia and pain while temporarily dropping the Rashid guise. It's very tender and really captures the feeling of what it is like to live with fatigue. Also shoutout to a fellow DM Writer server member!

i'll ask for more time (but mother forgive me) by @ignorethepineapples, 3,512 words, Mature

Another all time fave by a fellow member of the DM author’s discord! This is another one that weaves together different scenes from Armand’s and Daniel’s life through theme— this time it’s around illness, and around both of their turnings. The fic imagines Armand’s fatal illness as syphilis, which can have Parkinson’s like symptoms (this is so good that if the show doesn’t do this, I’m rioting). The fic connects this to Daniel’s fear during the AIDs epidemic and his eventual turning that saves him after a fall from Parkinson’s nearly kills him. Daniel’s turning is imbued with such tenderness, it makes me cry.

Chipped Fang, by anonymous, 12,013 words, Explicit

After being turned, Daniel is in agonizing pain. It turns out that one of Armand's fangs fell out and became embedded in his neck during the turning, and Armand has been suffering without his missing tooth as well. This is not the same as giving Daniel chronic pain after turning because of Parkinson's but I really love anything that points to the idea of vampire's bodies being fallible and still capable of problems, and I think this is such a clever idea and execution.

Portraiture by @sylvies-chen, 4,436 words, Mature

Armand has the idea that he and Daniel should participate in the couple’s trend of painting portraits of each other as a way to sneakily help him rehab his trembling hands (I always love when fics casually maintain some symptoms of Parkinson’s after Daniel becoming a vampire). And well, it’s been over 400 years since Armand was painted and really seen by a lover, so this is very sweet.

and so you did. by evaniigouki, 7,890 words, Explicit

There are a lot of great fics that mention that Daniel has retained some of his Parkinson's symptoms after being turned into a vampire without centering their plot around it. This is just one, which I like because I think it really captures the verbal sparing that Daniel and Armand get up to in the show. This is set in the penthouse immediately following season 2. I really like how this fic captures a whole mix of emotions: Daniel is angry that Armand has erased his memories, Armand is desperate to be wanted by someone after Louis has left, and they're both attracted to each other in an incredibly complicated way.

Til the Act is Done series by @apoptoses, 13,944 words across 2 fics, Explicit

The one book canon fic on this list! These fics aren’t literally about disability, but I’m recommending them because the restrictions of vampirism can sometimes be read as a metaphor for disability, which I think works especially well here. These fics are about Daniel trying to understand how Armand experiences sex, as a full body experience that’s focused on blood and biting instead of genitals. It is very sweet and very hot and resonated with me as someone who experiences sexual dysfunction as part of my medical condition.

you like control, well I do too by @gaysie, 9,975 words, Explicit

Another beautiful piece that tracks moments of Armand and Daniel’s lives around a theme; this time it’s food and eating disorders. (A big trigger warning for this of course; only read if it is safe for you to do so). This fic tracks how Armand’s need for control morphed into an eating disorder as Marius and the other men he was loaned out to commented on his weight, and how Daniel’s binges extended from drugs and alcohol to food. And how they both find acceptance and healing in each other.

A Love that Never Was by @mitchiesawyer, 13,303 words (so far), Mature

The only in progress fic on this list but I think the chapters that are up still merit inclusion! This fic takes the concept that Armand has Dissociative Identity Disorder seriously, and has Amadeo (with an occasional appearance by Arun) front when he turns and falls back in love with Daniel after the events of season 2. When Armand returns he has no memory of turning Daniel, which has me holding my breath and hoping that Armand can admit he loves Daniel just as much as Arun and Amadeo do.

Daddy by @verimuru and @graygiantess, 1,128 words, or in comic form, Mature

Another one that perfectly captures the chronically ill fantasy of having a vampire boyfriend- in this one it's Armand taking Daniel out dancing, and using his vampire skills and accumulated capital to protect him from Covid. Graygiantess's (another DM writers server member!) always witty dialogue is in good form here, and I love Verimuru's illustration style in the comic.

Defect (5 +1) by @aberrantangelsmind, 6,290 words, Explicit

What if Marius told Armand that his eye shaking was wrong, akin to a vampire disfigurement? How would Armand try to hide the shame of that flaw with the Children of Darkness or with Louis? And how would he feel when Daniel’s vampires eye also behave in an unusual way? This fic posits the idea that these unique eyes are remnants of being turned when Armand and Daniel were sick as mortals, which means they’re badges of resilience. That’s so beautiful! I love this interpretation of that trait.

The Devil, his own self series by @sburator, 37, 422 words across 2 fics, Explicit

This is such a nice slow burn, with Armand acting as Daniel’s caregiver after the events of season 2 and slowly convincing Daniel to accept the dark gift. Past DM happened in this fic, but some elements are reimagined in the current timeline with older Daniel, like the blood locket, which I liked. I also really like how much agency this fic (and Armand) gives Daniel, to be angry, to be annoyed, and to make his own decision regarding immortality. When he does accept it, it is very beautiful.

the old man and the vampire series by Zeebruh, 35,757 words across 2 fics, explicit

This one was written before season 2, and I haven't really revisited it since, but I had to include it because it was the fic that turned me from Devil's Minion curious to Devil's Minion obsessed. I love the accessible sex that happens in part 1, and I love the push-pull toxic past devil's minion timeline described in part 2.

Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath, nor clean the blood by me, 47,329 words, Explicit

And last but not least, a little self promo to round it all off. This is my long fic, that spans from post season 2 to Daniel’s turning. I tried to incorporate all my disability thoughts here- from Armand’s thoughts about breaking the rules for Daniel to Daniel’s reconciliation with Armand being shaped by his experiences with chronic pain to Daniel’s Parkinson’s lingering post turning. There is also a lot of kinky disabled sex which is both hot and tender (if I do say so myself). I’d love if you checked it out.

That's it for now! If you have other favorite DM fics that explore themes of disability, illness or neurodivergence, please feel free to reblog and add them or send them to me separately. I would love to have enough new favorites to write a second list soon.

[blowthemoon]

In all honesty, Vox very likely teamed up with Valentino first before asking Alastor to join any semblance of partnership and that's probably a big reason why he said no in the first place.

He also must've hurt both Vox and Valentino in The Fight considering their left antenna's are both damaged hence Val's comment about him owing THEM much more than money.

We think that CRT Vox is the one Alastor was good friends with when that's not right because his head is from the 90's and their friendship tanked after he started working with Valentino (as pictured on the right). The version of him that Alastor was comfortable enough to take a picture with and CRT Vox are completely different and that's proven by how we can't really get a good look at his head in Alastor's picture.

Val arrived in the 70's but we don't know how long it took for him to become an upstart overlord that could work with Vox nor do we know for how long they knew each other and were friends before they officially formed a partnership, anywhere between the 70's and early 2000's though I'm guessing.

For reference these are TV's from the 50's

60's

70's

80's

90's

That picture with Val had to have been taken in the 90's and I doubt him and Alastor still had a good-working relationship by that point.

[jnw1813]

RUN

Smut | You and Conquest set a scene that involves chasing you through the woods... but then it goes slightly awry.

Tags/warnings: minor injuries, primal play, predator/prey dynamics, spit kink, gender neutral sex, slight breeding kink, lazy sex, hair pulling, alien biology, fully consensual sex.

Thin branches snagged and scratched at your skin as you ran through the forest, nearly tripping a few times as you looked back, up, for any sight of him.

Your breathing was ragged, heart pounding hard, making your chest ache, burn; your throat, lungs, felt dry, growing sore and achy the longer you ran without a single break.

You needed to get away. You needed to–

A root, perfectly angled, grew out of the ground. Your shoe snagged on it, and vertigo hit you, sudden and sickening as you fell, fell, fell–

A whimpered yelp escaped unwillingly from your throat as the taste of iron filled your mouth, a blooming sting emanating from your tongue from where you'd bitten it on your way down. Your palms were scratched, bleeding. And your front felt bruised, knees sore from taking the hit at an odd angle…

But your ankle–

It caught your attention, and you carefully pushed up, turning onto your side, freeing your foot from Mother Nature's trap. You tested it weakly, wincing in prep for any pain, but thankfully, there was none.

A soft sigh of relief escapes you as you slowly get back up, only for your limbs to fail you, sore and stinging and–

“Don't tell me you're hurt already.” A voice came from behind you, and you froze. “Aww, you are, aren't you?” A sigh. “That's a shame. Ruins half the fun.”

A sigh, and then the crunch of him landing on the ground.

You stay still, almost like if you do so, he won't be able to see you. Your eyes are trained on a spot in front of you, unimportant, and your tongue throbs with stinging pain.

“C'mon, worm. Show me how bad it is. Don't hide, now,” he croons, all sweet and mocking. “I can practically smell it, you know. Now, how bad is it?”

Swallowing, copper running in thin rivulets down your throat, you turn, facing him.

Conquest stares at you, patient.

A beat. Once, twice, thrice–

You don't say a thing.

His shoulders relax imperceptibly.

You bare your teeth at him, showing the blood on them. He takes it in, tilting his head a bit as he considers…

He smiles, soft.

You would've said if it truly hurt.

And then the smile turns vicious, and he shoots forward, reaching for your neck, just enough time for you to–

Gasping, you throw yourself out of the way, everything aching, lungs burning still, and yet you have to keep going– you want to keep going–

Conquest snags you by the back of the neck, grip firm as he wraps his big fingers around your nape, squeezing–

And you go limp, adrenaline trickling off, submitting from the familiar, comforting touch.

A slightly mocking coo, and he sweeps you up into his arms, gazing down at you as you, exhausted, look up at him with hooded, weak eyes. Pained.

He tsk's, pressing down on your tongue until saliva wells up, flooding past your lips and drenching his finger. Without opening your eyes, you already know he's watching the thin trail of spit drip down his palm and wrist.

He sighs as if exasperated, a finger pressing to your lips. “Open.” He says, unnecessary as it is; you do as told, eyes closing as you relax, feeling digits spreading your lips apart, a rough pad pressing on your tongue, pulling gently to see the damage.

 “Well…” He heaves a sigh. “It ain't too bad. But I think we'll have to cut act one short.” He says, rising with you in his arms. “Otherwise you might twist your ankle next.”

A grumble escapes you as Conquest flies you home, his movements so smooth and steady you barely feel it. His finger is still putting pressure on your tongue, so you can't tell him how offended you are over him treating you like you're delicate.

Accidents happen. It's fine. Especially when running through the woods from your predatory mate.

In no time at all, you're home, and the first thing Conquest does is tend to you. Silky, moist feeling ‘bandages’ are applied to your palms and knees, the alien medicine attaching itself to your skin and numbing the area; likewise, he adds smaller strips of the stuff to your face, over tiny cuts here and there.

For your tongue, he makes you drink a spoonful of slimy, cold medicine, your tongue healing up instantly– it also makes your mouth taste like mint. Nice.

A hum rumbles in his throat, thoughtful, considering, as he looks down at you with his severe gaze. A thumb hooks your mouth open, letting him watch your tongue heal before his very eye.

Once he was sure his mate was all healed up, Conquest felt much better. Especially with what he was about to do next.

“Humans… so fragile, so weak.” He murmurs, leaning down, getting on your level; it would be demeaning if it weren't part of an act, a scene. “If I hadn't grabbed you back there, who knows what would've happened? Some predator could've gotten to you.” His thumb pulls free, wet, as he pats your cheek.

As if. The only real predator in a thousand mile radius was him.

“And then what would you do, hmm? Cry? Beg for help?” He leans in closer, breath hot against his cheek; his eye dares you to try something.

So you do.

You spit on him, the clear glob landing on his cheek, sliding down excruciatingly slow.

The world stops. Conquest stops. He stares, eyes wide with disbelief. That… was new.

“Right…” He says, finally breaking the stillness. “Back to it.”

Bringing a hand up, he wipes the spit down to his mouth, licking your saliva along his lips and into his maw; your eyes are glued to him, and the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows makes heat bloom between your legs.

And then he's grabbing you again, flesh hand knotted tight into your hair, gripping it by the roots so it doesn't hurt as he drags you towards the bed as rough as he dares to be.

It's exquisite for you, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. And when you kick and hit him, he doesn't even blink, probably doesn't even feel it. That's the best part about him. You can let out all your anger on him and he wouldn't even bat an eye at it, just encourage you to do better, feeding your anger with mocking words until you were left exhausted and drained, all pliant and perfect for him to scoop up and play with.

When you make contact with the bed, you're breathless, exhaustion weighing you down. Now you truly are weakened prey, unable to resist your ‘captor’ as he takes from you however he desires. A whimper escapes you as you watch him undress, loincloth pulled aside to show where he can pull himself out of.

He's hard, you see, trying to scramble back– not very hard, of course, not that you could manage it even if you wanted to in your state– and his metal hand wraps around your ankle and tugs. You're yanked back to the edge instantly, legs spread for him to fit between. Which he does, hips slotting between your welcoming thighs.

Eyes half-lidded, lazy, you peered up at him, too comfortable to even lift your hips to help him pull down your shorts. But that was fine by Conquest. He enjoyed a bit of manhandling, and it was oh so easy to move you about.

As the fabric hits the floor, his gaze seers into your flesh down below, drinking in the view. You hadn't worn underwear today. Not seeing the point with a scene planned. In all likelihood, he would've just ripped them off of you, and as hot as it could be, it both stung and made your wallet weep.

“I can never get enough of you, you know that?” He says, a rasp to his voice as he touches you, palming at your centre, stroking, coaxing your body to full arousal and beyond until you were aching something fierce with desire. “No matter how we do it. I used to hope I'd go out in battle, covered in blood and buried under the corpses of my enemies. Now…”

The bottle of lube popping open sounds off like a gunshot in the quiet of the bedroom, making you flinch with how mesmerised and focused you'd been on your husband's rich voice.

A thick finger, smothered in lubricant– strands so heavy and thick they droop from his digit onto your skin– presses into you, your body welcoming him, more than used to him by now.

“Now,” he says, breathing in deep, the scent of your arousal thick in the air; Fuck, his cock twitched, a drop of pre hitting your leg, hot, “I hope that the last thing I do before I go, the last thing that I see is this perfect little hole clinging to my cock as it overflows with my seed. I'm going out with a bang, darlin’, I can promise you that.”

Muffled squelching reaches your ears, your eyes mostly shut, just a sliver of sight visible through your eyelashes as your hole, snug and hungry, clenches around his finger. Another is added, and your breathing picks up.

“Even if I'm on death's door, you're gonna get this sweet ass over to me and ride me, understand? Gonna let me suck you dry, eat you out, mould your insides to the shape of my dick one last time…”

His voice is a low, raspy growl at this point, lost in fantasies of death and sex: his two favourite things. Well– behind you, of course.

Another finger, a bigger stretch.

The sounds were more audible now, lubricant like honey, thick and gloopy and looking so, so sweet as it mixes with your own arousal and drips out of you, trails down your flesh and cheeks in shiny rivulets; Conquest could imagine dipping a strawberry into you, biting into the sweet fruit, made even better by your own flavour.

Perhaps he'd do that next, make a feast of your form. Lap actual honey from your chest and off your nipples, carefully eat grapes from between your legs, lick chocolate from the length of your spine…

Yes, Conquest liked the sound of that. He'd remember it for later. For now, though–

His fingers come out with a small pop, your hole clenching around air, a slight gape to it. And how could it not, when one of his fingers alone were as big as some earth men's cocks?

The bottle creaked as lube drizzled out, landing on his cock soundlessly. It messily slides down along his shaft on its own, the heavy length weighed down by its own size, gravity doing most of the work for him. He still strokes himself, though, rubs the lube in, around, under his foreskin, even. It makes him pulse, balls tight as he releases them from the protective pouch all Viltrumite men have to protect their genitals.

He notches the head against your entrance, watching you jolt, eyes widening briefly as you realise it's time. Then you go all languid again, smiling as you shift your hips, circling them, helping him push it in, in slow, round movements.

He holds himself in place for you, cock long and thick and so, so heavy; it was always the weight you felt the most when you two made love. As the ruddy mushroom tip pops into you, both of you release a sigh.

The feeling of rightness settles over the two of you as he steadily slides in. Earlier, he'd planned to be rough, wild; but then you'd gotten hurt, and his concern won over his lust. Next time, he thought. Sometimes, things like this just happened. Injuries were normal when couples tried kinky things, even if they were minor, bruises and discomfort.

As Conquest settles inside of your silky depths, walls hugging him, he considers that, next time he chases you, you should just do a home invasion scene. You're less likely to get scratched up in your own home than in the woods, as thrilling as it was.

A groan tumbles out of him, and he rolls his shoulders back, hands on your waist. He squeezes, gentle. And then he pulls halfway out before thrusting back in.

The loud PLAP that echoes through the room is downright diabolical; wet and meaty and harsh. And it's repeated with every thrust, strings of slick connecting the two of you as he builds up a steady pace, pounding away at you. Leaning over you, he adjusted his hold on you, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

Brows knitted together, you whined and gasped, lips permanently parted now as that feeling in your belly grew and grew, heat building, tightening–

Conquest growled to himself, grunting as his balls smacked against your ass and his cockhead rammed against some deep part of you that had your toes curling, sparks racing up your spine–

A shudder wracked through your body suddenly, a sharp cry of his name escaping your lips as the heated coil in your belly snaps–

“Conquest!”

– and you cum. You cum hard and quick, and you're delirious with heat and pleasure and you can barely breathe! It's– too– much…!

The feeling of you squeezing his cock in a vice grip sends him over the edge like it always does, and he falls over the edge right with you, spilling his seed deep into you in thick, hot ropes of it, sticky and overflowing until it spills out of your stuffed hole and onto the sheets.

A hand plants itself by your head as Conquest leans closer, hovering so as to not crush you, but still wanting to be close to you. As you crack your eyes open– skin shiny with sweat and chest heaving with exertion– you think to hell with that, and pull him down onto you, hugging him, his weight comforting to you.

And Conquest would be lying if he said he didn't like it either, so he just settles on top of you, sighing as his eyes fall shut, nose buried in your hair. His cock is still inside you, softening as the bliss of his orgasm fades away. More cum floods out as well, but that's something to deal with later.

What a waste, he idly thinks, feeling your heartbeat reverberate through your chest and into his. Pure Viltrumite sperm, and it's just dripping onto the bed sheets.

He should really plug you up, make sure it takes. He didn't care if you could get pregnant or not– it was the principle of the matter. His seed was for you. It should be in you. Simple as.

Mind fuzzy, Conquest rolls onto his side, cuddling you, allowing himself to drift off. Absently, he reminds himself to check on your bandages when he wakes up. You should be completely healed by then. And with that final thought, Conquest was out, faintly snoring into your shoulder, bodies still locked together.

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

April: Another Chance to Fly

AU Types- Sports AU/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Bilbo and Thorin had a chance to show the world of figure skating how a hobbit and dwarf can be the greatest, when a tragic accident lost them a world title and subsequently their careers. Four years later, Bilbo is ready to make another run at it, but will he be able to convince Thorin to shake off the trauma of the moment to give him another chance to fly?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Just another chance to fly.” 

It was a phrase Bilbo used often, and it had stuck with him. Something of a mantra they would say right before heading out onto the ice. It was the last good moment Thorin could remember before everything went terribly, terribly wrong.

It was all just flashes of sights and sounds to Thorin now. Pieces of his memory that refused to go away no matter how hard he tried. The horrified screams from the crowd somehow louder than the track to their dance they didn’t quite realize should be turned off. The cold seeped into his knees as he cradled a small body close. The flashing blues and reds of the ambulance as he clutched tightly to an unresponsive hand pleading with every deity he could think of to let Bilbo Baggins awaken once more even as blood pooled from behind the gauze held tight over Thorin’s eye that he wasn’t a hundred percent sure he was going to get to keep. 

There were two things and two things only that he remembered with absolute clarity that night. The first was staring at Bilbo’s pale body in that hospital bed. The neck brace swallowing him as Thorin had to listen to the long, awful list of possible symptoms Bilbo could face after this. Paralysis being the one to stick in his brain and not let go. The second was Thranduil’s interview after the accident, and while Thorin had never wanted to punch the elf more, a small part of him told him he deserved it. After what he did to Bilbo, he deserved it and more.

“There’s an affliction in the skating world known as goldsickness where the desire to achieve gold invalidates everything and everyone else. I always suspected Thorin Oakenshield had it, especially considering it was the condition that essentially ended his grandfather’s career, and yet even I was unprepared for such a devastating and heartbreaking scene. My sympathies go out to Mr. Baggins who was dragged down by the dwarf’s madness, and my hopes that he can find solstice in a promising career cut short by greed.”

For more of this chapter, please click the AO3 link above!

[plasmara]

so who do you think falls first/harder out of kai and jay?

because okay. hear me out. jay’s the obvious choice, right? mr. “talks too much because he feels too much,” the guy who’s never met an emotion he didn’t immediately want to express. he probably falls first, all wide-eyed and hopeless, the kind of love that’s a lightning strike. he probably doesn’t even realize it at first. just thinks “wow, kai’s hair looks so good in this light” and “oh, i’d do anything to make him laugh again” and then he’s staring, and kai’s like “what? do i have something on my face?” and jay’s like “uh. yes. i mean no. i mean. oh no.”

but also. also. kai. mr. “tough guy with a heart of molten lava.” because kai’s the type to deny it, to shove it down and lock it up because he’s never been good at handling feelings he can’t punch or set on fire. but it’s there, slow and steady, this warm, comforting thing he doesn’t notice until it’s too late. like a campfire that’s been burning in his chest all along. he’s protective, of course, but one day he catches himself not just worried for jay’s safety, but terrified at the idea of a world without jay in it. and it’s a lot. it’s too much. he’s scared because he doesn’t do this, he doesn’t love like this.

and they’re both idiots, right? just two disasters circling each other, jay trying to flirt with dumb jokes and getting flustered, kai being all grumpy and overprotective because he’s in emotional denial. everyone else knows, of course. cole’s like “just kiss already,” and nya’s like “do you want me to lock you in a closet?” but they just. keep. missing. each other.

so who falls first? maybe jay, because he’s honest with himself. maybe kai, because the slow burn hurts more. maybe they fall at the same time, two idiots with too much heart and not enough sense, crashing into each other like lightning hitting a wildfire. and it’s messy and it’s ridiculous and it’s perfect. i love plasma <3333

this was beautiful to read anon u get them So well. but COUNTERPOINT….

kai………….. i honestly think kai falls first. and HARD . jay’s been around forever and they’ve always been just friends but suddenly BAM he’s completely and stupidly in love. like just one day he’s smiling at jay and he realises oh man. oh Fuck. i love this idiot. but he’s also convinced jay would never like him like that so .

jay falls for him at some point after but thinks its just a silly crush. because he and kai have always been oddly close and touchy and teasing and the lines between friendship and something more have always been kind of blurry with them. and yes sometimes he gets flustered and stupid when kai flirts and it gets a little too serious but jay’s convinced it’s normal and it’ll go away soon. Totally manageable hahahaha. right. and he just lives with it he doesn’t even consider for a second it’s something he can act on because of course kai wouldn’t feel the same way

So they both just flirt and giggle and act like this is just how friends are . meanwhile they’re falling asleep in each other’s beds and cooking breakfast together????????? Ok. Get a grip

Either way there’s not a universe out there where these two get together normally. it takes them approximately 30 to 60 business days to accept that they love each other and then another 15 to actually get together .

[elisedonut]

Thinking about perclin soulmate au during the war again

But specifically you know those photo series that are like a window just over and over as the world around the window changes like Colin with a whole album of just the sight of the outside world from a specific window in Percy's flat

sometimes there's an actual subject sometimes it's just scenery

he just takes at least one everyday there

[featthekiller]

An Angel and a Bastard

Slightly nsfw scene snippet under the cut

“What's your poison, Joey? Your preference.” Phoenix leaned forward, his hands digging into the mattress beside his shoulders.

There was a hint of menace in Phoenix’ tone as he nosed Joey's chin up and pressed kisses to his pulse. His lips resting there as his heavy breath rushed over Joey's skin.

“How do you mean?” Joey tried to clarify as Phoenix rolled his hips.

“With your lovers, how do you like them?”

Joey felt like he'd missed some part of the question, he was asking like he was supposed to place an order. He was confused and his field wavered uncertainly against Phoenix'.

“I like you?” Joey hazarded and Phoenix huffed a laugh against his throat.

“Obviously,” Phoenix kissed him softly, “I mean on a scale of one to ten, one being the most standard sex ever and ten being I kill you during orgasm. How rough am I allowed to be?”

[pickaropoprocks]

No idea what route they're gonna go for Kana5 but I do think that it would be absolutely hilarious if it was the most fluff a prsk key story has ever been, especially after all EN has been theorizing is that it's going to be absolutely devastating and have irreversible effects on Kanade's psyche

[geekyanglophile]

God dammit… I’m gonna have to start reading Good Omens fanfiction again

[w-40-k]

I was debating giving Angelo a tiny braid.

(Pherhaps his parents or that kid that became his friend for the summer made it. One of the few things he has to remember his family and, dare I say even home planet, by. Really it's part of why he's drawn to stargazing. He loves his brother's, but the chance he actually get's to go home is near zero, and sometimes the longing for his first family strikes him)

As a neophyte, he used to fidget with that thing when he got nervous. Grew out of that habit at some point, but he does touch it when he needs to think.

He looses that thing either when:

- he dies for the first time (big 'fuck this guy in particular' in addition to Dad dying and also a couple months later finding out you got spit out about two centuries to late)

- he's lost his helmet, is delirious and about half feral (imagine a bio-titan but in miniature, he get's caught in that things gas cloud, his healing factor just bearly enough to repair the damage he takes), trying his utmost to get the geneseed of his fallen brother's home (*can't* fail. *won't* fail) and at one point he get's swallowed by an oversized tyranid (perpetual tyranids. Now that's terrifying)

Point being, in both scenarios he misses when he looses his braid and he's only going to notice once he is far enough removed from the situation that he won't even be able to recover the lost braid.

(Like the first scenario takes place on a ship in a room, potentially the braid get's shot off by a stray bullet, either way that thing get's cleaned up with everything else after he gets put down like a rabid dog.)

(The second is possibly, lost in an active warzone burried under several Mt's of debris to be added to the tyranid biomass, dissolved by corrosive gas, dissolved in tyranid stomach acid or spit, or just plain burned or cut of)

Angelo's usually pretty cheerful. Keep your chin up, take joy in the little things wherever you can; quick to rouse to laughter; remember those who died, because their memory deserves to be remembered, even if it's just by one person.

My gut reaction says he would be angry. A single moment where he would be furious.

But probably more likely he'd just be stunned speechless, absolutely devastated for sure and just plain sad. Anger might come later for now he mourns this piece of what he lost.

He wouldn't withdraw physically but he becomes quiet and melancholic.

Does a lot of star gazing, the stars in the rough direction of his homeplanet can hold his attention for hours at the time (would be a shame if that place got exterminatus'ed, they do have that warp portal).

Puts on a smile whilst performing his duties, but an outside observer can see that his heart is not in it, despite his efforts.

He was already a good listener, but during this time especially he enjoyes to just sit in a crowded space and listen. (Bit like a drooping flower.)

(When deep in thought, he still reaches for the empty space where the braid would be, catches himself most times, but briefly presses his lips into a tight line every time it happens)

give your whumpee a comfort item.

give them a doll, a stuffed bear, a photo, a book — anything at all. regardless of what it is, give them something that means the world to them. even if it seems small or insignificant to others.

perhaps it’s the only comfort whumper allowed them, or a gift from a deceased loved one. whatever way whumpee ended up with this possession, have them become so completely and utterly attached to it that they can’t be parted from it. make that simple object be the only thing they’ve been able to cling to through years of torment. have it act as a reminder of safety, of being loved, of anything whumpee holds dear.

then tear the item from their arms and destroy it.