#Sometimes I get into these states where talking becomes tiring and I give small or simple answers

[tabbytiger]

The way I have to deal with this for the rest of my life. Also the fact that this can actually damage your brain.

[uzurakis]

I’m not sure if this is the place to request, but I’ll leave it here. 🥹💪🏻 I hope you’re doing well! I really enjoy your work. Do you think the JJK men will ever be in a romantic relationship with someone? I sometimes feel they won’t find someone because of the dangers they face. Could you write a scenario where they love you so much but don’t want to get you in their life because you can get hurt being in love with them🥺🙏 (Please include Inumaki and Goji; I love the way you write him so much. Thanks!!! ♥️♥️♥️)

I DON’T WANT U GETTING HURT CUZ OF ME!

featuring: nanami kento. fushiguro toji. fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru

n. i’m doing well, i hope u’re too, nonnie. i don’t write for toge as i’ve stated in my rules, but i surely do write for gojo; so here it is ^^

NANAMI KENTO was meticulously grading papers late at night, the soft rustle of pages the only sound in his otherwise silent apartment. his mind, usually focused and disciplined, kept drifting back to you. he clenched his fist, pushing the thought away as he forced himself to concentrate on the assignments in front of him. “i can’t let them become a target,” he told himself repeatedly, jaw tightening with each repetition.

the pile of papers slowly diminished, yet the nagging worry in his heart did not. he knew the dangers of his occupation as a jujutsu sorcerer all too well. allowing you deeper into his life meant exposing you to those same dangers, and that was something he could not bear.

later that evening, he dropped you off at your home. his demeanor was more reserved than usual, his words carefully measured. “always be aware of your surroundings,” he said, his voice steady but lacking its usual warmth.

you looked at him, sensing something was off. “kento are you okay? you seem . . distant.”

he forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “i’m fine. just tired from work.” he glanced around, scanning the area out of habit. “remember to lock your doors and windows. and if you ever feel unsafe, call me immediately.”

though, you nodded, feeling a pang of concern. “i will. but, kento, you can talk to me, you know? if something’s bothering you . .”

the man looked at you. if the situation, if the life he chose had let him, he wanted to tell you everything, to let you in on the turmoil he felt. but then, the reality of his world crashed back in. “i know. thank you.” he reached out and gently squeezed your hand. “just . . take care of yourself, alright?”

you squeezed his hand back, feeling the tension in his grip. “i will. you too, kento.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI loved you more than he could ever express, but his world was dark and filled with danger. knowing this, he made the hardest decision of his life and left you in the dust. watching you from the shadows, his usual smirk was replaced by a look of concern and gloom. he kept his distance, observing you from afar, ensuring you were safe without revealing his presence.

fast forward, as you walked home from work, you sensed someone following you. your heart raced, but you continued walking, pretending not to notice. then, you heard his voice, low and rough, but unmistakable. “stay away from people like me.”

you froze, turning around to find the guy standing a few feet away, partially hidden in the shadows. “toji?” you whispered, heart aching at the sight of him.

he stepped closer, but not close enough to touch. “don’t search for me. my world . . it’s too dangerous for you.”

tears welled up in your eyes as you took a step forward. “why did you leave? you didn’t even give me a chance to understand.”

toji clenched his fists, the pain evident on his face. “i left because i love you, for heaven’s sake! because i know what happens to people who get close to me. they get hurt, or worse.”

“. . i can’t let that happen to you.”

he sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping whilst you were left with zero words. “it’s not that simple. every day i’m in your life, you’re at risk. the best thing i can do for you is to stay away.” he looked back at you, “just promise me you’ll be safe. stay away from people like me.”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI often debated whether he should distance himself to keep you safe or savor every precious moment he had with you. this internal conflict left him feeling frustrated, and he struggled to reconcile his feelings with the reality of his dangerous life.

to protect you, megumi kept your interactions brief and guarded. he feared that his enemies might use you against him, and the thought of you being dragged into his world was unbearable. he knew you deserved a peaceful life, free from the horrors he faced daily.

later that evening, you approached him, sensing his uneasiness. “megumi . . is everything alright?” you asked gently, concern shown in your eyes.

he looked at you, his expression conflicted. “i, i’m fine,” he replied, though his sentence lacked conviction.

you stepped closer, refusing to be deterred. “fushiguro megumi, how many times i’ve said that you don’t have to hide from me? i can see something’s bothering you. now please, talk to me.”

megumi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “it’s not that simple. being with me . . it’s dangerous. the enemies could use you to get to me. i don’t want to see you get hurt.”

touching his arm, you reached out. “baby, i understand the risks. but i also know that i love you, and i want to be with you, no matter what.”

“but you shouldn’t be dragged into this. you deserve a normal life, without all this danger.”

“i don’t care about a normal life,” you said with all your will. “i care about you. and i want to be by your side, even if it’s not easy.”

“i just . . i don’t want to lose you.”

GOJO SATORU seldom joked and flirted like he used to, his demeanor growing more serious whenever he was around you. he often caught himself staring at you, lost in thoughts of a life where he could protect you without the constant fear of danger.

he was the strongest, after all, wasn't he? sometimes, he felt confident that he could keep you safe, that he could shield you from any harm. but a part of him couldn't ignore the nagging doubt; the countless enemies he had made, the unpredictable nature of the future. he could protect himself, but what about you? could he always make it in time when the clock struck?

currently, you both sat on the balcony, the city lights twinkling below. gojo's gaze was distant, his mind clearly preoccupied. you reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "satoru, what's wrong? you've been so detached lately."

he looked at you, those usually playful blue eyes now seemed duskier. "i've been thinking about us, about your safety."

you frowned, concern etching your features. "my safety? satoru, i know your job is dangerous, but we've talked about this. i want to be with you, no matter what."

"it's never that simple. i have enemies, powerful ones. i can protect myself, but . . what if something happens to you? what if i'm not there in time?"

trying to offer reassurance, you brushed his shoulders. "you're the strongest sorcerer, satoru. if anyone can protect me, it's you. but i also know the risks, and i'm willing to take them because i love you."

his expression softened, but the worry didn't leave his eyes. "i love you too, more than anything. but i can't help but think about the future, about the dangers. i don't want you to get hurt because of me."

"we'll face whatever comes together. i trust you, satoru. and i know you won't let anything happen to me."

he pulled you into an embrace, holding you tightly as if trying to shield you from the world. "i promise i'll do everything i can to keep you safe. but you need to promise me you'll be careful, too."

@uzurakis

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part five

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee. also not thoroughly proofread oops

a/n: okay so now we're getting into the good stuff and i'm so so excited!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

"Are you joking? Cheap bastard..." Billy grumbles as you step into the stables of a ranch on the outskirts of Silver City.

You had just played a show at the saloon here, voice a little tired and worn along with the rest of you as you prepare to settle in for the night. You hadn't played here before, but sometimes you just got set up with less than ideal accommodations- it was your trade, and you really didn't mind it.

You and Billy had fallen into a stable routine over the last few weeks, wandering city to city and asking both familiar and unfamiliar bar men if you could play there in exchange for nothing more than tips and a place to stay. Hey, it was a life Billy was familiar with. Despite the legality of your endeavours, you had a decent bit in common.

"Hm?" You hum quietly, digging out the cleaned out jar you'd been using for water, twisting the lid off as you glance up at him, sitting yourself down on a comfortable looking stack of hay.

Billy wasn't one to complain as look as he was sleeping somewhere safe, but you certainly deserved better than a hay stack in a stable. The smell of horses would linger in your hair until the next time you found a creek to bathe in.

"We can't sleep here, darlin'. It ain't comfortable. Hardly even safe." He says, bag slung over his shoulder as he gestures back toward the wide open door to the stables. Hell, he would rob these people of their horses if you weren't with him. They were practically begging the wrong crew to pass by and do it.

The nickname you had now become accustomed to hardly even makes you blush anymore as you take a sip out of the lukewarm water in the jar, letting the liquid sit in your mouth for a few moments as you look around at what he meant. You shrug before swallowing, feeling a bit more refreshed already. "It's just for a night or two. I've slept places worse."

You hold up your hand before he continues complaining, reaching into your bag, falling apart at the seams, and pulling out a small blanket that was in similar shape. You stand up to shake it out after closing and setting down your water, laying the blanket across the hay bale next to where you were sitting.

Billy recognized it, you had been using it as a pillow the entire time he'd been with you- rolling it up under your head regardless of the state of the pillows in the beds you were borrowing in spare bedrooms or vacant spaces at the inns covered kindly by the bar owners for the night.

"That tiny blanket ain't gonna do a thing to keep you warm once the chill sets in." He shakes his head and your expression drops, hardly even noticeable as you look between him and your blanket.

"I... well..." For the first time since he met you, you seem hesitant or almost embarrassed about something. "I just thought you'd rather lay on that then the hay, that's all. It can be kinda pokey."

Oh.

His heart sinks in his chest as he looks at you. You had laid it out for him, in hopes of keeping him a little more comfortable when you thought he clearly didn't like the idea of sleeping out here on the ground. It was the best you could offer, and it wasn't like you had many other options for the night.

Weeks ago you wouldn't even let him touch your guitar case; you still weren't very easily accepting of the idea.

"Hey, hey! I ain't gonna run with it, I'm just helpin' you out. Relax." Billy said with a laugh, lifting the case over his head, high up in the air and supporting the other end with his free hand while you jumped to try and grab it from him.

He found that little scowl on your face adorable.

"I can carry it!" You had insisted frustratedly, giving up on jumping for it when you realized that the best you could do is knock your precious guitar from his hands and send it tumbling to the ground.

Needless to say, you were quite possessive of your things, and the significance behind the gesture of you offering your blanket to him was not lost.

Billy shakes his head. "You ain't gotta give that to me. I appreciate it, that's real sweet, but you better save it for yourself..." He hesitates for a moment, eyes drifting to the blanket again. "I know it's special to ya."

You don't say anything in response, sheepishly nodding and grabbing the blanket again, with much less care than you had laid it down with. As if you were in a hurry to hide it away again, to bunch it up as a pillow instead of leave its ratty nature exposed.

"Pack up your stuff. We ain't sleepin' in this pig pen." Billy says, taking on a more cheerful tone and waving his hand for you to follow him to the door. "Come on."

"Huh? You got a better idea of where we can sleep?" You ask, blanket tucked under your arm as your brow mimics its wrinkled material in your confusion.

"I do, actually. Do ya trust me?"

Apparently the answer to that question is yes, and you only regret that decision a handful of times as he leads you and your stolen horses up a muddied, narrow, and undoubtedly dangerous path that leads to god knows where in what feels like the middle of nowhere.

"So... did you pre-dig a shallow grave for me out here or somethin'? I always knew you were planning to kill me." You hum, holding the reins of your horse behind your back as you lead it up the small and rocky trail.

Billy rolls his eyes, scoffing out a laugh that you can just make out from up ahead. "No," he chuckles, "I'm not going to kill you, darlin'."

"I am yet to hear a better explanation for why you're dragging me out to the middle of nowhere, but okay." You snide, but for the most part it was playful. You knew he wouldn't hurt you, well, hopefully. He had had plenty of similar opportunities in the previous weeks, so your guard was down just a little bit.

"Did I ever tell you I used to live here?" He asks, glancing back at you.

"Silver City?" You ask, more curious than teasing or annoyed now. "No, you didn't. I thought you were on the road too much for that."

"Well, yeah, but that was after I lived here for a few years." He explains with a small shrug you can hardly see with the distance of his horse separating you. "With my ma and my kid brother. They had to move here with her worthless fuck of a husband after he kept losing work, and we heard there was some out here."

He'd never spoken of his family before. At least not to you. At least not in the last several weeks in which time you had hardly been apart, and the honesty shocks you. It is very welcome, though.

"Oh... well... are they still here? In Silver City, I mean." You say, knowing that this should be carefully navigated if you wanted to hear more about his life in the future. If you wanted him to trust you.

"I don't know about Antrim, but my brother and my ma passed a long while ago. That's why I left, had nothing to stay here for anymore."

In the moonlight you can just make out his figure a little ways in front of you as he shrugs, as if it wasn't a big deal. As if he hadn't lost everything, lost his family. How could he not have told you before? In all these weeks he had been helping you in order to get back to your own family, he had never once mentioned that he lost his too.

"I'm so sorry," Is the best you can come up with, despite your own insistence those weeks before that apologies only make you feel worse. Make it more real- but what else were you to say? "For what it's worth."

"Hey," He chuckles, surprising you a bit. "It's worth somethin' to me."

It isn't long before you come to a clearing at the top of a hill, a steep cliff overlooking what you assume to be an old mining site picked right dry. But you don't pay much attention to that, quickly distracted by the view above you- the trees having opened up to the beautiful sky again.

Billy tied the reins of his horse to one of the thinner tree limbs, before dusting his hands off on his trousers as he walks back into the clearing fully to join you where you had stopped hard in your tracks. He gestures up to the sky as they spread out in a vast sheet of light and glittering wonder, their beauty unhindered by clouds or the tree line.

"See? I ain't gonna kill you. Ta-da, doll."

You're mesmerized, hardly hearing his words. "Heaven's a touch away." You whisper, and he hardly catches it as the reflection of the stars flicker in your already sparkling bright eyes.

His smile widened as your own did, and he nodded. Heaven's a touch away.

He would have said something else, but he was too busy being hypnotized by the way the moonlight reflected off your skin and made you glow like an angel.

Billy chuckled softly at how awed you were by the display, glancing up at the sky before looking over at you again.

For just a moment, he wanted to take you by the waist and bring you closer, to pull you against his body as you stared above your heads. He wanted to keep you warm and whisper sweet things in your ear as the stars shined down on you both.

But he held back. You weren't his to hold. Not yet.

"It's nice, ain't it?" He asks after a moment, averting his gaze finally from you and up at the stars you were oh so entranced with.

"Sure is." You agree quietly. "Feel's like I could reach out and touch 'em."

You look over at him after a moment, catching him taking his hat off so he could get a better look, sweeping his scruffy hair back away from his eyes. "How'd you find this place?" You ask after a moment.

He shrugs again, familiar. "Like I said, I lived down in town under the same roof as the worst man in the west. Needed somewhere to go."

You nod silently, looking up at the stars again. "Well, I'm glad you did. It's beautiful." You say with a small grin.

Billy hums in agreement. "I figured if we'd be spendin' the night out in the cold anyway, we might as well have some space and a nice view."

"This is why I prefer the west to the city." You say with a nod, placing your guitar case on the ground and sliding your bag off your shoulder to land on top of it. "Even on the highest roof you couldn't get a view like this."

You dig around in your bag for your blanket again, delicately laying it out on the ground for the two of you to lay on while you looked up at the stars until you fell asleep. You can't help imagining how much Max would have loved this. All the kids would have, but at least they could look up and see it again.

If Max were to open his eyes six feet under and look up, he'd be well lucky to see anything other than pure, peaceful darkness.

You lay down, and without a word, Billy does as well. He props up one knee and folds his hands behind his head, and you wonder if he's thinking the same thing about his family.

"Are you a religious man, Billy?" You ask after a few minutes of quiet contemplation, letting your head fall to the side to look at him.

"Used to be." He hums, still gazing up at the stars. "Was how I was raised, but I'll be honest, my beliefs on it are much the same as yours these days." He explains.

What kind of god could take two kids families from them like this?

"I don't blame you." You say quietly. But you do suppose that assuming there was a higher power, it was the very same one that stripped your family from you for a second time in your life, only to present you with a friend in William Bonney. Maybe that isn't the worst thing in the world.

"Or, I mean, they were for a while. I really don't know anymore." He muses. "I try not to think about it."

He didn't really have a lot left to believe in. Same as you. Not the god who killed everyone he had ever loved, not the justice system that's been chasing him down for a long while now, and not in himself to do the right things. You had him beat, in that regard. He could see it in every day spent with you. But is that not a blessing all in its own?

"No one does. I think that's kind of the idea." You reply with a slight laugh, wanting to lighten things up a little bit. "Y'know, tests of faith and all that."

"Fair." He agrees softly, looking over at you again finally and giving you a small grin.

"Although," You tilt your head slightly, looking up at the sparkling sky again. "Day in and day out, folks die and babies are born, there's great pain to be found on both ends of life. But if there's someone around to bring you in, and someone to miss you when you're gone, things couldn't have been too bad along the way." You ramble on a bit, deep in thought as you try to communicate a simplified version of what you were trying to convince yourself.

Billy was a little bit speechless for a moment, weighing the accuracy of your assessment. After a few seconds, he lets out a laugh. "I guess you're right, but I'm not sure I'll have many folks missin' me when I'm gone."

"I'd miss you." You reply quietly, with minimal hesitation. "If we parted ways tomorrow and I never saw you again, I'd remember the last few weeks fondly. It's nice to not be alone."

He isn't sure if it's hunger or what that makes his stomach turn and a tightness form in his chest. He's not positive he won't throw up right there on your blanket over the rush of feelings at the most simplest of words.

"Well, thanks." He says, laugh long faded as he looks up at the deep navy sky that felt so close that you thought you had a chance at touching it. "I'd miss you too."

You smile to yourself in contentment, shifting a bit to get more comfortable for the long night ahead of sleeping in the grass at the top of this hill familiar to only one of you.

Billy spares you another glance in the long silence that follows, unbothered by the chirping of crickets and the occasional shift of your horses hooves in the dirt a few feet away.

The stars were beautiful. This was a known fact.

But you were far more heavenly in his eyes.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[lazycats-stuff]

Batfamily x male!reader

Okay, part 1 of the Court of Owls reader is here. I enjoyed writing this so much, even though it's short.

Summary: The family wasn't going to allow (Y/N) to stay with the Court anymore. (Y/N), on the other hand, wasn't going to go down without a fight.

Warnings: (Y/N) moving to Metropolis, Harley and Pamela being protective, Harvey being protective.

(Y/N) opened his eyes. It was noon and he only got 5 hours of sleep. He was currently in Metropolis, in a small apartment he managed to rent out.

He told Harvey and others of his plans. He can't stay in Gotham at this point. He can't. The nights have become way too dangerous for him. Bruce knows this city and it's hideouts to well.

Harvey gave him a big duffel bag with money. He refused to say how much was in it. Harley and Pamela gave him a new combat knife and Selina gave him a burner phone.

The place he rented out was small, but enough for him. He paid for 2 months in advance, just in case. He always liked this city. It was calm and crime wasn't so spread out like in Gotham. And it's annoying that Metropolis people are wimps when it came to crimes.

Truly annoying. But... When you say with a resting bitch face, ' I'm from Gotham, ' they retreat really quickly.

(Y/N) had a routine here. The one he didn't think he would have. At nights, when he was supposed to be out, he would walk around Metropolis. The beauty is one of the things he liked about it. There was so much gorgeous things in this city.

Usually he would go to the parks and sit on the bench. Or he would just go to a small diner to get some coffee. There was one that served killer cheesecake, just around the corner to where he lived.

Wasn't he lucky?

While (Y/N) was in Metropolis, enjoying the peace and quiet, Bruce and the rest of the family was searching for him. They were getting angrier and angrier as the days passed by. Where is he?!

" Okay, when I see him, I will beat his ass. " Jason mumbled.

Damian didn't say anything. Where was his brother? He thought about it. (Y/N) always made some allies, wherever he was. So they need to find the allies.

" What are you thinking about? " Bruce asked his youngest.

" We need to look for allies. I'm sure he made them here. They will know where he went. "

" Why would he have allies? No offense, but you guys are loners. "

" Sometimes Todd you have to have people to trust. But always be prepared for betrayal. You never know. "

Bruce just sighed. Why (Y/N), why? Why are you doing this?

" I think the bigger problem is where to start, if we do chose to go by that theory. This city is a criminal hub. We need a starting point. " Tim stated, trying to figure out a plan.

" Masters, I think I have something. " Alfred interrupted the session.

" According to the GCPD records I went through right now, there was a person who visited Two Face. According to informants, there was some sort of bond between them. And the description matches (Y/N)'s. " Alfred said.

" Alfred, why were you going trough GCPD files? " Bruce asked the man, there were no open cases relating back to Two Face.

" I heard about the master Damian's theory and who are better allies then Gotham rouges? "

The vigilantes stood quiet at Alfred's statement. There was their starting point. Bruce was going to relinquish his title and give it to Alfred.

" Okay, thank you Alfred. Come on, lets go talk to Harvey. " Bruce said. Time to find his son.

(Y/N) sighed as he laid in the bed. He couldn't sleep, but he also couldn't go out. He simply didn't want to. He was too tired. He would have gone and bought some furniture, but then again, if he needs to run again...

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. He looked at the burner phone that started ringing. He looked at the number displayed on the screen. It was Harvey. (Y/N) allowed himself to smile. He accepted the call and put the phone next to his ear.

" Hey Harvey. "

" Hello son. "

(Y/N) eyes widened and he nearly dropped the phone in the process. This is not Harvey's voice. It was Bruce's. How?

" Speechless? So was I when I heard about your bond with these rouges. Harvey is apparently your father figure. Did you really forget about me and your brother? "

" You and Damian can go to hell. I'm not going back with you. "

Bruce just hummed into the phone.

" Do you really think so? Do you think I'm going to allow you to destroy yourself even more by staying with them and the Court? No... I know you are in Metropolis and we are coming to get you. I have to be honest, he refused to talk about you. See you soon son. "

(Y/N) dropped the phone and immediately stood up. Oh no. Shit. Okay. He looked for his knife. There. Now a gun he bought. He checked the magazine to see if he had ammo in it. And it was a nervous tick of his.

He tucked the gun in, hiding it beneath his jacket. He looked at the phone and left it there.

No time. Nope.

He quickly ran out of the apartment, going downstairs quickly. He put the hood on, making sure to cover his face. He has enough money to go somewhere far from here.

He can make it. He just needs to stay calm. He took a shortcut through the alley, but a certain figure stopped him.

" Robin. " (Y/N) said, just putting his hand on the gun.

" Hello brother. "

(Y/N) ducked a punch before grabbing him and slamming him into the wall. Then he climbed up the fire escape up to the roof. He checked the hook strapped to his wrist. He used it to swing on the next roof. If only he noticed Jason coming from the side. They fell down from the air onto the roof.

(Y/N) rolled with Jason, ending up in the position where Jason straddled him.

" Alright, time to wrap this up. "

(Y/N) wasn't having it. He wrapped his hands around his neck. He forced Jason back with that and punched him. He ran across the roof and jumped once more. Now he saw Red Robin and Nightwing. He slid down, making them crash into one another. He jumped down into an another alleyway.

He froze when he Batman landed in front of him.

" No... " (Y/N) whispered. There was no way out.

" I don't want to hurt you son. Why are you running from us? "

(Y/N) felt his breath hitching. Was he going to have a panic attack?

" Now, you can come peacefully. Or I can bring you back forcefully. The choice is yours. "

(Y/N) can't go back. He didn't have to turn to know that Robin was behind him.

Well, he won't go down without a fight. He took his knife and threw it a Bruce. Damian brought him into a headlock, making sure that he wouldn't be able to move. Then he felt a prick at the side of his neck. It was a sedative.

(Y/N)'s eyes were closing, his body dropping down. Damian still held onto him, refusing to let him fall. Bruce gently scooped (Y/N) up in his arms.

Time to bring him home.

[idv-sunsxin3]

Click // Dating Headcanons

Note// I also love this boy here - ever since day 1 and before I even got him. It was even funny the fact that he was a 5 star who came home before Sweetheart and Bkornblume and after Balloon Party,,, his lore put me in tears like;;; <//3

___

Click is always that one figure looking and observing the crowd from the background. Even seeing often as the one who records every memory in a sanctuary like the suitcase, through his trusty camera.

He is a quiet ghost, but one with guts of a true man...

He is the one who has no single fear cell on stepping landmines and explosions during a ruthless war... despite his role as the photographer, he doesn't guarantee his life from being taken away by the battlefield.

Yet...

Why was he paralyzed whenever he tries to talk to you..?

Is it because of the way you talk? The way you try to console others when they argue at one another? The way you smile...?

No, it couldn't be... he is always like this even when you get mentioned - as if your name is what keeps a bell ringing on his head.

...There is no point holding back, however. He would be the person who may often be less verbal, yet whenever he speaks, it is always something straightforward. There is no need for explanations.

You can remember the time you first saw him. It was quite unexpected in your opinion - encountering a ghost somewhere inside the suitcase after you got recruited by Vertin...

It doesn't mean it was a bad experience, of course.

"Hi."

You softly say, your eyes not looking away as you admire the sight of the celestial looking figure. Despite his torn and ripped edges of his garment.

"...."

The spirit doesn't respond... Instead, he prepares his camera to angle it towards you before taking a picture. The sound of flashing can be heard from the tool as you couldn't get the chance to react what he just did -

"... Your surprised look is.. pleasant..

please wear it often." The transparent figure finally says something, despite not exactly answering to your greeting.

It sounded strange... but you didn't get weirded out by it somehow. It's probably by how pretty he looks you just couldn't bring yourself judge so soon... You're quite understanding.

Little by little, you sometimes find the silent ghost looking in your direction through the crowds. Even when you both are in a room yet in a decent distance from one another. His eyes are droopy and looking tired, yet always have this gaze of longing when your eyes meet.

He doesn't seem to intent in approaching you at times after the last time he spoke to you, which is when he asked if he can take pictures of you.

Camera shy or not, you didn't seem fazed by his question and allowed him so as if it was just some kind of way to pass the time for him...

He is a ghost. What else can he do besides floating around?

That question made yourself feel sorry for him... even sad that he doesn't get to be... human ever again at such a young age. Yet, you wonder what does he usually feels while in such a current state.

After a few days of knowing him, he is never likely to take pictures as blackmail nor the type to just share pictures of people to others..

So mostly if he wants to, he would just watch you from afar and sometimes sneak some shots whenever you laugh, smile, blabbering about other things that seem to make you happy... All those little things managed to get into his memory to the point that he slowly got to know you from afar.

There are times you catch him organizing portfolios, even admiring his work silently and sometimes giving compliments about his skills in his takes.

The point where you once gave him constructive criticism intrigued him - that he even seems to become a bit inspired and to try to ask you more about your opinions in the takes next time.

He would randomly appear beside you after a small sounds of wood being penetrated can be heard as a warning... you barely got used to it in the first time, but quickly catch on the cues and look forward to his silent visits.

"...I was wondering if you could share some thoughts about this portfolio I made." He once says calmly as he lowers his camera to search the folder from his bag. I'm looking at you for any answers with a hint of curiosity.

When you come back to the suitcase, he just happens to be straight away and floating beside you. Or when you're at the same party setup, he would often be behind you to look after you. Even when you're not around, he doesn't seem to do anything else but put maintenance on his camera, checking out the photos he recently took, and floating around wanderlessly until he can sense you coming back from exploration.

He probably admitted his feelings for you without exactly confessing(?) He just happened to be in a small talk with you. Often being beside or appearing out of thin air whenever you have to depart to a different location.

When it seems like it is the right moment, he would be quick to act and appear beside you to ask for some of your time to speak with him.

"I have to say this before I forget..." He says as he faces you with that same look yet in such a gentle voice, "You're a company I didn't know I would need it the most... Thank you."

It wasn't exactly a real confession in his eyes but more like a simple, honest statement from him. Having this friendship slowly blooming, he doesn't seem to mind keeping it that way, until you asked if you can both be something more than just pookies... He would still be happy nonetheless, even if he doesn't seem to show it.

Throughout the relationship, there is never enough with Click taking pictures of you. He could have made a shrine out of it if he can, yet he doesn't. He honestly doesn't desire for others to see your pictures... they're special for his eyes... His pride and joy. Anything else can be shown to the world, but he won't exchange anything if it means to show those little cameos of yours... it's an unspoken rule for him.

Click's way of affection is definitely far from touch... since he sadly can't do that. But whenever you feel down, he is silently willing to give you quality time and some words of affirmation...

He may not be often good in expressing himself.... but when he cant find the words, his willingness to give you soft whispers, gazing longingly into your eyes, while trying to make his transparent hand seem to trembly hover over yours can tell many things that he wish to express them to you.

[problems-with-botsandcons]

Finally gonna say my piece on how feel about a certain character from IDW 1, mainly for MTMTE and TLL.

It’s not okay the treatment of Getaway and how his character is now treated by the whole fandom/fanon to the point where it becomes uncomfortable for me to share that I like them.

This may be a long post so all my thoughts will be down below.

Warning for mentions of NSFW content and mentions of abuse/trauma

So right off the bat, the fandom’s treatment honestly makes me mad and so fucking uncomfortable that it has made me question if I should even bring this all up. How Getaway went from an MTO, which is basically a cybertronian's version of a child soldier, who struggled with the fact that the person responsible for his creation and trauma was not only NOT punished for their crimes, aka Megatron the genocidal warlord who nearly wiped out his whole race, with a slap on the wrist. A mech who was angry, a mech who was hurting, and not everyone on the ship agreed on giving Megatron a chance. Some of the mechs fought against Megatron’s army, most likely losing people they cared about or just the fact they may also have trauma but nothing as serious because they’re much older then Getaway.

But then his character was turned into a one-note, blood crazy, villain because of two things:

- shipping (tailgate/getaway and cyclonus/tailgate)

- because people agreed that Getawat was right about Megatron, with not only a majority of The Lost Light agreeing but the audience as well

The shipping is obviously a major point of how people view Getaway for manipulating Tailgate into trying to get Megs to nearly kill him. I can protest that it was indeed wrong but giving him small slide, a very tiny one, he might have thought that Tailgate could survive but even then he would’ve been in trouble. I get it, Tailgate is a sweet but naive character that people can't see him with an abusive character like Getaway.

Now to state, I came late into MTMTE and haven't read issues 40 and onwards.

But I can state wholeheartedly that what Getaway got as a punishment was fucking extreme that one would think he was a war criminal. He had his arms, legs, jaw, and voice box removed and was put into a device similar to what Overlord was placed in earlier in the comic’s run.

Sure, he nearly got Tailgate killed but one has to think that MAYBE the punishment was a bit too far.

Now then the shipping can sometimes be the toxic part of a fandom, I get it. I want to state I have no problems with the fandoms’ shipping of Cyclonus/Tailgate since it’s one of the popular ships. Shipping is usually one of the main forces for drama and this is one of them.

But now comes the part that makes my blood boil:

Getaway has his character assassinated then has said character reanimated into a zombie for their creator to control.

Now his character is portrayed as an abuser, a manipulator, or a straight up the most evilest being in IDW, and now Transformers in general, when there are more characters that are deserving of that. Can’t even look towards ao3 for him because it always one or more of these things below:

- abusive and manipulative partner

- rapist

- just pure evil

Getaway had depth to him just like every other character but as soon as it was hinted that Tailgate, whose a fan favorite during MTMTE and TLL, was in danger people were unsure how to feel about Getaway.

I’m also aware that the deal with IDW and Hasbro was slowly ending so the stories had to be wrapped up. So they just had to make him one note. They didn’t have enough time but they could have tired.

I’m gonna end this all off here.

I just want to see content that isn’t just ‘GeTaWaY iS pUrE eViL’ or ‘GeTaWaY tHe AbUsIvE PaRtNeR’ or some other crap.

Because people avoid talking about Getaway after his character was assassinated. People who are fans of him I don’t see speak about him or if they do it can rarely find them.

But I’ve been aware that a of lot people are starting to speak out about Getaway’s mistreatment in the fandom. Which is better than having to stay quiet.

[dyad-tmesis]

going feral over your fusion au its so unique! do you have any little funfacts/random info bits about the au? id love to hear them!!

Oh why thank you! I love when people froth at the mouth over my stuff 💕 y’all are too sweet

Ohohohoh boy alright here’s some little bits of ideas I had for the fused au

So as said before Jekyll and Hyde are still separate people, they have aspects that resemble a system with perma co-fronting to it (I’m not a system myself but I always try to double check with my partner who is part of one to make sure I’m not doing anything dumb with this. If there’s anything at all that seems inaccurate or anything like that feel free to let me know. I just included it because I feel it’s the best way to explain how they function in this state)

Again as mentioned before they have their own separate voices and are fully capable of taking turns speaking with said voices, however if they become stressed or can’t decide the right words to say right away they’ll just start talking over eachother as seen in the comic with Jasper. When they get tired or unfocused they have a habit of mumbling to themselves.

They upgraded pronouns lol, he/him and they/them

Early on when they were still freshly fused Hj7 would leak every now and again from their face, hence the stains you see on their shirt in the comic (“mom I frew up :(“)

Taking the Hj7 does pretty much nothing now apart from a small boost in their stamina, boost in strength, and some leaking from the face, splitting the human soul involved tapping into the bodies hidden strengths after all

Both Jekyll and Hyde have equal control over their body, so sometimes there are moments where Hyde will use one hand to reach for something shiny to steal observe and Jekyll uses the other hand to swat it away

Their current height is somewhere between the two of them, so their clothes are either just a smidge too big or a smidge too small. Hyde likes to look like a Christmas themed disaster while Jekyll tries to give their now mixed wardrobe some cohesion (with Rachel’s help)

Since they’re both technically in a new body and both are experiencing things at once they can sometimes get sensory overload

Once things calm down it’s more or less a “this is our get along shirt” sort of deal and are forced to confront how unfairly they’ve both been treating eachother, this was all caused by Jekyll trying to permanently get rid of Hyde after all.

While Hyde is still technically a part of Jekyll they’ve spent a whole two years growing in different directions as people, they have the same roots but their branches are entirely different and can’t assimilate back together seamlessly (which is something that I always disagreed with when looking at other fused aus, they’re still all cool and valid tho)

They develop a habit of biting their lip in order to prevent themselves from unintentionally speaking with both voices, they can now also have proper internal dialogue together but sometimes that’s hard to keep quiet.

I already like the ASD hcs (may or may not be projecting) people give the two of them so…they like to stim

I think that wraps it up for now! If you have any specific questions about some of this stuff ask away

[nancypullen]

Geez

It's the 19th of May and I haven't posted since late April. That's a sad state of affairs on this ol' blog. Since my last post we have celebrated Jamie's birthday and Mother's Day, two noteworthy occasions. In the near future we have Tyler's birthday, Father's Day, and Matt's upcoming trip to Ireland. Plenty to look forward to and celebrate, June should be a delight. On Saturday the library hosted a celebration of our renovations and re-opening (even though they been open since January). There was a ribbon cutting, food and drink, and a good crowd. I spent five hours in the children's area applying glitter tattoos to lots of small hands and arms.

This little guy was thrilled with his glittery blue Batman emblem. He stole my heart.

I actually put lots of books into those little hands as well, so mission accomplished. After working all week and then surviving enjoying a busy Saturday I didn't do much of anything on Sunday. We browsed the auction house. Do I need this globe?

Probably not. I'll bet the countries are outdated and if it doesn't open up and become a James Bond style liquor cabinet, what good is it? I'm 100% sure that I don't need this gal around giving me body issues.

Is it just me, or does she kind of look like Caitlin Jenner? I talked the mister into cruising into the Starbucks drive-thru while we were out. I'd had a headache for two days, and darned if an iced caramel macchiato didn't cure it. I guess there's something to be said for caffeine and sugar. I enjoyed every drop. Once home, Mickey went to his office to work on photos and I puttered. I checked out the gardens and gave everything a pep talk. The mister has been murdering moles so I have high hopes that the grass will fill in and flourish. At this point I'm willing to spray paint the dirt green. I ended up on the porch, which is looking so pretty. I'll have to snap some pics and share them. I don't know why a pretty porch makes me so happy, but it does. For dinner I cut up some chicken thighs and made bourbon chicken in a skillet - no actual bourbon involved. It's basically that yummy food court chicken. The recipe is apple juice, apple cider vinegar, low sodium soy sauce, ginger, garlic, pepper, and brown sugar. After the chicken cooked I thickened the sauce with a little cornstarch slurry and served it over rice. I topped it with a little diced green onion and sesame seeds to make it pretty. Normally I'd have tossed in some broccoli florets but I didn't have any. There was a crunchy cucumber in the frig so I sliced that up for our veggie. I probably should have made a salad, but I'm just so dang tired. I've started questioning my Oregon Trail viability. That was always how I judged my health/fitness - whether or not I'd survive walking beside a wagon for four or five months. I knew I could do it, even enjoy some of it. Now I know I'd be jumping off at the first trading post. I'd be selling maps in Missouri at the jumping off point. I don't feel good, I don't look good, and I'd just be dead weight in the wagon. Leave me, save yourselves. All of that to say that I've become a bit of a bore. I work most days and get home after six (sometimes eight) and my routine is the same - eat dinner, watch Jeopardy, take a hot bath, read in bed. Ho hum. Where's the fun? I've lost my magic. I really need to find my way back to playing with words and paint and paper. I miss it. I feel like a hypocrite saying that. Before taking the position at the library, I was lonely, isolated, longing for friends, and looking for a purpose in this dull town. Now I get to talk and laugh with nice people at work, I certainly have a lot to do, there aren't enough hours in the work day to finish everything (I have a deadline hanging over my head right now that is stressing me out!), and I actually do feel a little appreciated. The paycheck is a nice bonus. So I suppose I got what I wished for, I just didn't want it nine hours a day. I don't have a life. Right now the library is very short staffed, and I think everyone is stretched thin. Most people have no idea of how much work is involved in keeping a public library not just open, but relevant. The programs that we offer, the community outreach, the technology that we have to stay on top of, the daily tasks of keeping track of a large inventory, fielding reference questions from patrons and finding the resources and answers they need, processing materials that come and go in large tubs, the list goes on and on and that doesn't even include just the regular check-ins and outs. My calendar also includes a lot of children's programs - tomorrow I'm working with Petite Picassos, another day I'll be making bee hotels with a group of twenty, don't even ask about Bubblepalooza (guaranteed bad hair day). I've actually managed to get a month ahead in gathering materials and planning for displays. I have some birds to paint, but otherwise I'm ready. Getting ahead on some things means putting others at a lower priority - which is why I have an online training class for Beanstack, the software we'll use for all of our summer reading programs, still on my to-do list. I'm supposed to have it completed by the 22nd. Maybe if I don't get it done they'll fire me.

I just want my life back. Not even all of it, maybe just half. I wanted to be a volunteer. Help.

Okay, I've whined enough. It's past time to get my clothes ready for the morning, pack a little lunch, and pray that the building burns down overnight. Just kidding. Kind of. Sorry for this mess of a post, I just wanted to keep this blog alive. It tells the story of my life since 2007 and I'd hate to let it fade away now. I suppose everything runs its course, but I'm not ready yet. Thanks for staying this long and reading this far. Sending out lots of love tonight. I hope it finds you. I also hope that joy finds you - we can all use a healthy dose of that. It's most often homemade. I'll be back during the weekend. Until then, stay safe, stay well, stay hopeful. XOXO, Nancy

[belovedcorvidarchive2024]

Another thing I've talked about a fair bit in passing in threads but never written out proper is C.ora's stupid boat (affectionate).

In verses where he lives and inevitably leaves / is removed from the Marines, he becomes a drifter of sorts and uses nearly all of the last of his money to buy an old and tired boat. It gives him frequent grief, especially initially as he gets back into the practise of sailing all the time post injury, but the two do learn to respect each other and work together - it always gets him to where he needs to go eventually. He talks to it, sometimes: usually a challenge, an argument, or an insult but in an affectionate sort of way.

Sometimes he struggles with feeling directionless because he's very used to living in an environment where you're always given an order, but he mostly enjoys the freedom of living on his own terms and the quiet that goes along with often travelling by oneself. He travels and helps people at random in small ways, because the time he spent travelling with L.aw and helping him learn to hate the whole world less was one of the only points in his life where he felt he was having a net positive impact on something, despite his background and all of the things he'd previously messed up. He does go to look for L.aw in a lot of these verses, but the fear that the kid may not want to see him again after being gone / presumed dead makes this process a slow one, usually.

It's a 40 ft fishing trawler with a single centre mast and a handful of sails. It sleeps 3-4, is frequently in a state of questionable but loving and well-meant repair, and is called the Skua. Maybe at some point when I get a bit of time I'll draw it.

[atlas-affogato]

Hi! Firstly, I want to say that I really like your fanfics and headcanons. I mean, they're so profound and detailed, and your writing style is just awesome

I sent you an ask some time ago but I had some problems with Tumblr and it didn't reach you😩 btw the ghost who liked your posts, which you once made a post about, is me (I hope I don't sound like a creep)

So, I'd like to share some hcs of mine, too:

1. I see Ratso as a person who, despite looking childish outside, can be pretty serious. I imagine him wearing glasses while reading (I also think that he likes reading hard and scientific stuff). He looks like a university professor with the glasses on sitting in the armchair with a huge book about theoretical physics

2. He also may resemble a professor or a teacher sometimes. He likes helping enforcers' nephews with school assignments and homework, but he tends to explain things and wait for the boys to solve everything by themselves like a real teacher.

3. Chow definitely wore glasses when he was young. He was told to wear them by doctors when he was about 8 - 10 years old and it made him really upset. At first Chow even refused to wear them but he couldn't see anything from the blackboard at school and distinguish people around him. He didn't like glasses as he looked like a nerd with them on. Chow also got bullied for being puny and weak — so he started working out, but it didn't really help, unfortunately.

4. Finn and Ratso are extroverts while Chow is introverted. It took him some time to make their acquaintance and then become friends. Chow doesn't really communicate with other people from the Dark Hand while Finn knows everyone there. He likes small talks. Ratso is keen on chatting as well, but he's a bit shy so sometimes he feels awkward among new people. He just has an experience of people being rude towards him as they think he's acting like a child

5. It's totally not in canon, but I think Chow might have a tattoo on his upper arm. He got a tattoo right after finishing school to look cooler and have an "independent and giving no shit guy" vibe. Also he was a little bit into punk style back then, so he pierced an ear, maybe even two (I hc this not because I love punk guys, absolutely...)

Hi!! Oh my god thank you so much you have no idea what that means to me that you read and enjoy my fics 😭😭😭 thank you so so much

Yeah I only now got that other ask, which I can answer if you would still be interested! Are those numbers for the same list I answered with Finn? I can go digging for that post. Its nice to meet you little ghost 👻😉 (and you don't sound like a creep)

1. Yes yes yes 1000% agree. Ratso can be childish at heart but he's definitely capable of serious discussions, I see him as someone who enjoys the simple things in life and doesn't want to be embarrassed about liking cartoons or action figures. I think he's a total optomist, thinks the best of people and the world. And he definitely will sit and read complicated science and math books and theories and magazines and try to explain them to Finn and Chow, with little success

2. Oh yeah he's the guy to go to to get help with school work, he'll sit with his nieces and nephews and explain everything, spend hours with them to make sure they understand everything

3. Oh 1000% yeah Chow definitely got bullied for looking like a nerd and being a scrawny kid definitely did not help. He probably stated martial arts in high school with the hopes that it would help him with the bullying, which it did not, but it all worked out in the end right? 😅

4. Oh yeah, Finn is such an extrovert and Ratso definitely likes talking with and meeting new people but he can get tired of being around people too much. Chow is a total introvert, has no friends besides Finn and Ratso, and that's the way he likes it. I think Chow could go either way of either being a home body, or going out to clubs/bars pretty regularly. Anywhere where he doesn't have to make small talk. Ratso's definitely had people give him weird looks for being happy or excited about literally anything so he can be a bit more reserved about his hobbies and interests

5. Lmao I accept this headcanon 😆 he so would, wouldn't he? He would totally do that (I definitely don't want to draw him in 2000s emo get up, no definitely not)

Thank you so so much for the ask, I LOVE talking about Enforcer headcanons, I never stop thinking about them. But seriously, I can't thank you enough for reading my fics, it means so much to me that you think they're good 😭😭😭

[midnightscxre]

Rules

MUN is 27 years old (she/her), so this blog will not interact with people younger than 21. 21+ ONLY, minors do not interact.

 This blog is selective and mutuals only.

I am friendly, always open to gush over our characters however due to the past experience I want to state that any form of inappropriate behavior such as: being flirty toward the MUN, getting too personal with asking the information about my private life and comparing me with any of my muses will result in INSTAT BLOCK. This is fiction, muse does not equal mun, and I have no intention to make anything but role play partners and friends here. I am a taken woman and will not tolerate anything that makes me feel uncomfortable. 

Starters are open to mutuals only if not stated otherwise.

DO NOT use me as a ' resource blog ' for new followers, meaning: if we became mutuals and didn't establish no interaction, don't scroll through my blog adding everyone you see on sight. I welcome my followers becoming mutuals, however, if you plan to make me a 'springboard' for new followers, I will block you on sight.

Using me for my male characters will not slide. It will lead to me losing interest and  dropping the tread. It happened a few times and I am just tired of it. This includes 'half-assing' the threads while giving the best for the females, focusing just on the ship where I play the male and obviously neglecting the ship where you play the male. I have twice as many male characters than female, but I love my girls just as much. Fair play is something I highly appreciate.

I will not interact with blogs that have all female characters nor single female muse blogs.

I am a detailed role player:  lit. / advanced lit. / novella style . (The choice between short replies and novella depends on my role play partner’s style and my time)

Font: small + GIFs (medium)

My  OCs are not tied to a specific universe, so they are open for cross-overs,  various settings and interaction with OC and CANON characters.

I try to respond on daily bases but as we all , I have obligations so please be patient. Some days some muses are high and others low, and I do write based on my inspiration. Please know that if I responded to someone and not you, that does not mean I am ignoring you, it just means I am either busy or the muse is low. I despise writing bad responses, so know I am just trying to give you a quality response, so that is why it might be longer sometimes.

No controlling my characters. You write yours, I'll write mine.

I  am flexible, always open to ideas, after all, I see role playing as something both parties should enjoy, so do not hesitate to DM me and we  can figure something out :)

I role play through threads / reblogs and Discord.

Playlists, memes, mood boards, or casual ‘thirsting’ over our characters? YES PLEASE AND THANK YOU! I love OOC talks about our muses and generally commenting on them and  their situations, so never hesitate to jump right into my DM and let the  fun begin!

Triggers: I only have one trigger - animal abuse. Any type of mistreating animals is NOT acceptable here.

Will NOT tolerate : Ince*t. R*pe, Underage, scat..and similar things!

When it comes to SMUT, writing some heated moments leading to the ‘main course’ is fine, but I would prefer to ‘fade to black’ once the ‘fireworks’ starts. There might be some exceptions, depending on the thread.

Warning: This blog will contain heavy topics such as mental abuse, manipulation, trauma, gore…etc. Please proceed with caution.

[legends-of-time]

Amelia’s Story (BBC Merlin Story)

Chapter 3: Becoming Too Real

Masterlist

Just one week after Amelia had met Ygraine and Uther, disaster happens. She's laying on her blanket outside while Helen relaxes in a chair when a messenger on a horse arrives at the house. At first, she does not realise anything is wrong until she hears shocked gasps coming from Helen.

"George! George!" Cries Helen. "You will never believe what happened!"

"What is it, Helen?" George says confusedly as he steps out of their home as he hears his wife's cries.

"It is the Queen! She went into labour too early and has passed!" Helen sobs. This makes Amelia confused as she swears Ygraine had another month at least.

George clearly shares a her confusion, "but she was not due for another month! She said so herself!"

"It was shock that caused her to go into giving birth prematurely," Helen explains. "She had just gotten a letter that her sister had died."

"Vivienne? But she was so well." George comments still sounding very confused.

"They found her in the woods. She had a servant to hand her sister a letter she had written and then ran off." Helen exclaims. What happened in the woods?

"Poor Morgana and Gorlois!" George cries. "Uther as well. Did the baby survive?"

"Yes, a healthy baby boy. An heir."

This whole situation is overwhelming. George and Helen obviously believe that as Amelia is only a month old baby and she won't understand what they are talking about. The show never really explained what happened to Morgana and Morgause's mother. It does sound very dodgy though. Vivienne simply rode into the woods after telling someone to send a letter to her sister before being found dead. What happened in the woods and what was in that letter that caused Ygraine's early labour?

Amelia knows that the Great Purge is going to begin now. Uther likely used magic to impregnate his wife as he did in the show and now he is going to punish thousands of innocent people for something they cannot control to lessen his guilt. It is also going to make a lot of people angry and vengeful and this causes her mind to drift towards Morgause. She is likely with the High Priestesses at the Isle of the Blessed by now. Though Amelia knows she does not need to worry about Morgause for a while.

——

Amelia does not meet Morgana or Arthur, however, until she is 3 years old. It is another trip to the Castle. She has not returned since Ygraine's death and Arthur's birth but George has and sometimes Helen too. This means that Amelia has not had the opportunity to meet Arthur or Morgana. To be honest she is getting tired of waiting.

When they arrive in the Council Chambers, the Court seems more sombre than Amelia remembers and that partly might be due to the fact that Uther is not as joyful himself as he was when she first met him. She straightens herself uncomfortably and tries not to start tugging at her long brown hair that's been half pinned up.

They are announced once again by the herald, which still makes Amelia jump, and then all three of them begin walking towards where Uther sits at the other end of the Hall.

"Helen, George, it is good to see you," Uther utters. "You do not come often enough." He gives them a small smile.

"We apologise, Sire," George answers respectfully. "I hope you remember our daughter Amelia?" At the sound of her name, Amelia steps from Helen's side and curtsies like Helen and her Nanny had taught her. Uther simply looks at her with a sad glance.

"My my you've grown haven't you?" This unnerves Amelia slightly and she does not respond until she feels Helen nudge her side with a leg.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Amelia says quietly.

Uther then beckons a woman that Amelia had noticed over to them and when she did a small mop of blonde hair pops from behind her and a pair of blue eyes like hers watching Amelia. After analysing him for a minute, Amelia realises that this must be Arthur.

"This is my son Arthur," Uther states proudly. "I am sure the two of you are going to be the best of friends." This causes Arthur to turn his stare toward her and shyly give her a smile while Amelia returns it.

"Nanny why don't you take the two of them to the Nursery," Uther orders. "I am sure that Gorlois's daughter is already there with her own Nanny."

"Yes, Sire," the Nanny murmurs before taking Arthur's hand as well as Amelia's. She looks toward Helen, who gives her an encouraging smile.

The Nanny then begins to lead Arthur and Amelia down the hall away from the Council Chambers. They walk down many halls not speaking a word to each other until they arrive at another door. Arthur's Nanny knocks and the door opens to reveal another woman.

"Your Highness," the woman utters curtsying. "Nanny Grey, My Lady." She opens the door.

The three of them step into a room of considerable size even though this is a room for one child. Royals. The room must be inside one of the Castle's turrets as it is of a round nature. There is the obvious cot in the corner with expensive white silks hanging over it and opposite the cot, on the other side of the room is a large window with the same type of silk as the cot framing it. There is also a door on one side that Amelia doesn't know where it leads.

After analysing this, she then notices a young girl with dark hair that might as well of been cut from the same cloth as the silk on the cot and curtains and skin that makes it obvious that she dinot see the sun often in the middle of the room playing. Morgana.

"My Lady? Arthur is back and he's brought a new friend for all of you to play with." The woman, who opened the door, speaks in a clear calm voice. This causes Morgana to glance up and run up to them with a doll in her hands.

She looked at Amelia and bluntly asks, "Who are you?"

"Lady Morgana!" Her Nanny immediately scolds. Amelia does not really mind and instead, she grabs Arthur's and Morgana's hands and pulls them towards the toys.

"I am Amelia by the way. We can be friends." Amelia says hoping that this will work because she genuinely does want to be friends with Morgana and get to know her.

"Alright then." She sniffs trying to act like she does not care when she does actually look interested. "Let us all play."

As they begin to play Arthur then pipes up, "Can I be friends with you too?"

"Of course," Amelia says warmly thinking how adorable Arthur looks at this age, it makes her want to squash his cheeks.

——

Just as Amelia hopes, they all grow up close from that point on, of course, she and Morgana are not always in Camelot as Gorlois is still alive and Amelia has her own home with George and Helen. However, they visit often especially on special events, birthdays for example. Wanting to be good friends with the two of them on one hand stems from her obsession with the show and wanting to get to know the characters and on the other hand, it comes from her want to full fill Ygraine's wish that they would be close.

Of course, it is not always fun and games. During this time since Arthur's birth, Uther has been executing anyone with some type of magic. Due to the fact that Amelia is to everyone a very small child, she is mostly kept away from the brutality of the Great Purge. Though whenever he can, Uther will bring up his view, what he sees as the correct view, that magic is evil.

When she and Arthur are old enough to have lessons, Helen, George and Amelia move to the Castle, as Morgana had a year earlier, so that she can join Morgana with her Governess while Arthur is having his own separate lessons to prepare him for being King. The only lesson they all share is being taught to sword fight, which Helen is not happy with as she does not see this as very ladylike but George and Gorlois feel that it is important for Amelia and Morgana to learn some type of self-defence.

Science is an interesting one due to the fact that it is not developed as it is in the 21st century, not that Amelia remembers all that she was taught but she remembers the odd thing, which completely contradicts what she is being taught in Camelot.

One obvious topic that all three of them are taught is the evilness of magic, which annoys Amelia cause this is Uther's attempt to brainwash all of them. She often openly disagrees with her Governess over this and of course, this is reported back to Uther. He often lectures her on how she is only young and does not truly understand the world. Amelia still argues back and from seeing her do this, Morgana often backs her up, which Amelia is grateful for as she is still only small and Uther is very imposing.

However, one day when Amelia is six, Uther has enough and decides to show what happens to people who practise magic and those that help them. Her first execution. Amelia has never seen anyone die in her life ever, especially witnessing someone lose their head. People like Gaius, who she has gotten to know well whenever she needs medical help, George and Helen try to persuade Uther from doing this but he argues that she needs to be taught what happens to those who are 'evil' Sorcerers. He seems the type of parent to give tough treatment, to show children the harsh reality.

It is not a day that you would forget. Amelia remembers being led to the Balcony by a servant that she does not recognise, she is kept near the back though while Uther stands at the front for all to see. Then the drumbeat begins, Amelia sees two Guards begin to lead the young woman towards the execution block that is in the middle of the Square, surrounded by a large enough crowd. Uther begins his speech about the 'justice' that is going to happen and the 'evilness' of this person as Guards lead the woman up the steps of the stand the block sits on. Amelia admires this woman for her strength as while looking like she is about to cry, she is able to control her emotions and be calm despite the fact that she is going to die.

As the woman begins to kneel down and place her head on the block, Amelia begins to feel her blood gushing in her ears, she feels like her heart is beating so loud that everyone can hear it and she half expects Uther to turn around and scold her but he does not. Amelia watches the executioner lift up the axe and begin to lower it when Uther gives him the signal.

(A/N: this next chapter is a bit descriptive so if you don't like that skip this next paragraph)

The axe seems to be moving in slow motion and even though Amelia knows that she should turn her eyes away from the scene so she will not see the woman lose her head, she cannot turn her eyes away from it. It gets nearer and nearer until there is a thump. The woman's head falls to the floor, blood pouring from where the head used to be making Amelia feel sick, but the worst bit is seeing how her body carries on twitching for a few moments before going still.

Her heart is beating so loud that Amelia does not hear the gasps of the crowd nor Uther calling her name, she can only see the woman's body and the Guards putting her head into a basket.

"Amelia, Amelia," Uther cries, but in concern, before grabbing her small shoulders so that Amelia would look at him tearing her gaze from the horrific sight in front of her. "Do you understand Amelia? Do you understand that I do this to protect you from the evil magic causes?"

Amelia only stares at him before fleeing from the Balcony towards Gaius's Chambers where she hopes to find him leaving Uther yelling her name.

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[roseyange]

sleeping with mammon

♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

♡ reader is referred to by you/yours !

◇ fluff !

♡ there is a chapter 20 spoiler, and it is very slightly angst, but it is marked where it starts and stops!

◇ I don't think there is anything else, so please enjoy!!

♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

Mammon loves you so much. he is constantly with you, an arm around your shoulder, hand interlocked with yours, a hand laying on your leg. legit anytime you are in reach of him, he is touching you. if you can't be together, then he is texting you. sending you pictures of what he's doing, sending screenshots from funny posts he sees on Devitter or links to songs he listening to that he thinks you would like. to put it simply, this demon LOVES loves you.

one other thing he loves about as much as he loves you? sleeping with you. while he enjoys taking you out on dates and showing you off, and the more intimate moments between you two. he would do anything to have you in his arms, peacefully sleeping, enjoying the calm moments with your lover. he can't lie, the first time you fell asleep together, he woke up in the middle of the night to get a drink, but ended up watching you sleep. the peaceful look on your face, your soft breathing, and the small smile that tugged at the side of your lips every once in a while. he wanted to know what you were dreaming about, to wake you from your slumber and ask you what was making you smile like that in a dream, where anything was possible. he would never admit it at the time, but he so badly wanted it to be about him. making you smile in your waking state was one thing ( that he loved and strived to do every waking hour ) but to be the reason you were smiling in your dream land? it made his heart flutter at the thought.

the longer your relationship goes on, the more of a habit sleeping together becomes. when you first started dating, it was somewhat common for Mammon to come to your room in the dead of night when he couldn't sleep. he'd crawl into bed next to you and fall asleep almost instantly. he insisted he only did it because there was something about your human world laundry detergent you used that made him fall asleep so easly. you didn't have the heart to tell him that you stopped using human world detergent when you last ran out a month prior. but now, like clock work, one of you find the other crawling into each other's bed every night. it was never talked about, it was just something that started happing, a mutual agreement of sorts.

he of course, has a few favorite places to fall asleep with you

your room

you have the comfiest bed Mammon has ever felt. your bed is comfortable, your pillows are fluffy, your sheets are soft, and your blankets are warm. when he sleeps in your room, you practically have to drag him out of bed the next morning. he refuses to get out just because how dream like your bed feels.

the love he feels waking up in your arms while in your bed is enough to kill him sometimes. to know how loved he is, how his presence is wanted in your bed, how you hold onto him and fit next to him so perfectly even in a sleeping state. it makes him feel so unbelievably loved.

always on your bed. no matter what, he is on your bed.

( chapter 20 spoiler )

once you left, he wouldn't leave your room. he would lay in your bed all day, hands resting where your body used to lay next to him. he would hug your pillow and cry, missing the way you would had cupped his face and asked him what was wrong. holding him while he cried. he tried to imagine you there with him, but it only made it so much worse. ( end of spoilers )

when he gets tired and you are working on homework or just not right next to him, he will call your name and pull up the covers for you. the warm bed and your sleepy boyfriend beckoning you to go lay down.

you always give in

his room

his heart will always skip a beat when you knock on his door and peak your head in, letting him know it's you.

he likes his bed, and he rarely has issues sleeping in it, but when you are next to him sleeping, he will always be out like a light.

he bought a blanket for you because you complained about how cold he kept his room. he will always have it sitting on the back of his couch incase you need it.

he loves watching movies with you on the couch. him laying on his back with you in between his legs, head resting on his chest while you both watch your favorite movies. you can't even begin to count the amount of times you two have fallen asleep like that.

when Mammon sleeps in his room, he always has music playing softly. he will never admit it, but classical music is one of his favorites to fall asleep to. the music once seeped into his dream, and he dreamed that he was dancing with you at some sort of royal ball. he will never forget how stunning you looked in that dream, and anytime he hears the song his heart skips a beat.

his car

this has only ever happened a few times, but he thinks about it alot.

one warm summer night, Mammon took you on a drive around the Devildom. you ended up on some long forgotten road that overlooked the ocean, forest surrounding the rest of you.

you two snuggled up in the back seat, looking up at the stars, pointing out constilations and telling each other stories.

the warm night and the comforting atmosphere slowly lulled both of you into sleep. holding onto each other lovingly as the world slowed around you.

it had only been an hour and a half before you woke up, realizing the situation before waking Mammon.

having enjoyed the peace and quiet away from HOL, you both made sure to go out on your little star gazing date more after that.

a hotel

this one may seem a little weird, but hear me out.

Mammon loves to spoil you. anything you want ( if his wallet allows ) he gets you. he loves taking you on road trips and lavish dates.

one date he took you for a night out on the town, then staying in the penthouse suite of the top rated hotel in the Devildom.

that night in the suite, he would crawl into the bed behind you, wrapping a arm around your middle while he planted soft kisses on the crown of your head. you both looking out the giant windows facing out to the skyline of the Devildom. He would point at places he recognized, like one of the RAD dorms and one of his favorite casinos.

Mammon looked at you lovingly while you looked out the window, talking about an experience you and Asmo had had at a night club just around the corner. his arms would tighten around you, pulling you closer into him as his eyes started getting heavy. your honey like voice pulling him into a deep sleep.

you almost instantly realized your boyfriend had fallen asleep. by his chest slowly rising and falling, to the way his grip loosened around you.

you gently turned around, making sure not to wake him. you couldn't help but watch him. his face soft and peaceful, being able to see the small smile lines he had on his cheeks. his hair fell lazily into his face, and you had to resist the urge to brush it away. you noticed the citrine necklace you had gifted him was tucked protectively into his tank top so it wouldn't move around while he slept.

you placed a gentle kiss on his nose before snuggling into his chest, making yourself comfortable as you also slowly drifted off to sleep.

a smile pulled on Mammons lips in his sleep, him dreaming about your lives together in the future.

[zuluc]

summary: how the genshin boys give hugs

characters: childe, diluc, kaeya, razor, venti, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli

style & genre: bulleted & written; fluff

warnings: none

notes: a self-indulgent fic for my birthday yay, i hope you guys enjoy this I just really want a hug but it’s hard to see friends right now 🤧🤧

Childe

sometimes a side hug or quick embrace; sometimes not because there are days he never wants to let you go

his outward persona is lost because he trusts you

once his arms come around you, you feel like the life is being squeezed out of you, in a good way of course

there are still traces of his past he has yet to share but he wants you to know how much you mean to him

Paimon had stayed behind to finish that chop suey Su Er'niang offered you both. You finished your share, giving some to your companion, and you left to sight-see around Liyue. 

It’s different from Mondstadt and there were quite a bit of things to get done here for your journey. Your feet take you to the stairs leading up to the Wanwen Bookstore and you hope no one has bought out the book you wanted to finish.

Before you could take a step upwards, someone grabs your wrist and pulls you into a small alley. You hand comes up to summon your sword but then your vision is obscured by a head of copper hair. You gasp when his arms tighten around your torso while he heaves a sigh beside your ear. He lets go after a few seconds and you can see the smile on his face.

“Just a recharge,” Childe winks and turns around to get back to what he was doing.

Diluc

he gives the type of hugs that hold so much emotion that he hides from the public

his body runs warm and appreciates when you snuggle further into him when he has you

his hugs are never quick and he likes to take his time, his hold tight enough to make you feel safe but loose enough to allow you to leave if you so wish

rarely initiates them but will take full control when you’re in private

You could tell when the work he had was becoming too much for the night. The annoyance tainted his handsome features and you just wanted to take it all away. Diluc worked hard, everyone knew that, but he was only human. 

You give him the letter Jean wrote out and proceed towards the door to get back to your own duties. Your name rolls off his lips and when you turn around to look at him he’s gesturing for you to get closer. When you’re mere inches from his desk he stands up and places one hand on your back and the other on the back of your head, burying his face into your neck.

The temperature outside was chilly and his naturally warm body contrasts to how you felt prior. You can feel him frown against you when he feels how cold your skin is.

“Will you be coming back tonight?”

Kaeya

he gives you many hugs, anywhere and at anytime

there isn’t a day where you never receive one and if that every happens, the next day will include even more

will almost always lift you off your feet and/or catch you off guard; he likes to keep you on your toes

even when you’re just standing around waiting for another mission or watching the sun set he’ll hold you close against his side

He’s late. Again. 

You finished off the last of the slimes around Starfell Lake with little to no damage to yourself, luckily, but someone was supposed to assist you to get the job done faster. You look around for any more enemies before kneeling down and dipping your hand into the water. It was cool against your skin, relaxing you after the day’s work. But it might have been just a bit too peaceful.

A force pushes you forward and you close your eyes to brace for the inevitable impact into the water. You wait a few seconds before realizing that you are still very much dry, but there’s something blocking you from lifting your arms. Kaeya chuckles behind you as you lightly hit his arm, hugging you tight.

“I got you,” he says with a smile.

Razor

he’s an awkward hugger, mostly because he doesn’t know how these things work as well as that he doesn’t want to hurt you

he doesn’t know where to put his hands and they usually end up against his sides before he realizes that he makes you think he doesn’t like them

when he gets more comfortable, his hugs are gentle and soft

he grew up with the wolves and these types of things just didn’t happen, but you make his heart soar

He’s taking a casual walk in Wolvendom to reflect on what Lupus Boreas had told him only days ago. He wasn’t a wolf, he was human, but he couldn’t accept it so quickly. His mind wanders and he doesn’t hear the steps, or rather running, behind him. It’s only until you jump on his back that he realizes.

You knew that he was thinking about what happened and you wanted to return as fast as you could to check on him. You slide off his back and he gives you a forced grin. Razor avoids your gaze but you place your hands on his shoulders to square them towards you.

He appreciates your presence and he wants nothing more than comfort, hands twitching at his sides. You’re aware of his little signals and smile when you hug him tightly. He closes his eyes and breaths in your calming scent while hugging you back with care.

“Thank you.”

Venti

there’s a sense of happiness once he hugs you because it just makes you feel lighter and free

there seems to always be a slight breeze about him and you can feel it brush your face when you rest your head on his shoulder

he comes and goes but never forgets to hug you before and after he returns to see you

his hold can range from very loose to holding on just a bit tighter

Venti left a month ago and you knew that’s just how his way of life was. He was never one to stay place for too long, much like the wind you would say. You yourself were someone who likes to travel around, but everything always brought you back to Mondstadt. 

You stand overlooking the city at “your usual place,” as he liked to call it, for some peace of mind. You sit on the edge of the statue’s outstretched hands and lean back on your hands to take in the view. A soft breeze passes by you and your ears pick up a quiet sound behind you. You smile and stand up, immediately wrapping your arms around him. 

His own naturally fall in place behind your back and a light laugh escapes his lips. It was nice to see you again, as always.

“Missed me?”

Xiao

he used to be so stiff when he first started hugging you as he never had physical contact with anyone

being you, he warms up and learns how to properly hug someone

will have a hand behind your head because he wants to make sure that every part you of is against him

he’s very protective of you in general and it gives him a peace of mind knowing he can keep an eye on you in this way

You’re sleeping, sitting in his lap with your head resting against his chest as he sits on the balcony of Wangshu Inn. You came to him only a few moments ago and it was clear that you took the time to clear out nearby hilichurl camps due to the small scratches and bruises you had on you.

Xiao narrows his eyes at more of the culprits across the water on the little islands, making a note to do something with them later. You mumble in your sleep and he looks down to see your brows furrowed. He cups your face gently and smooths his thumb over your cheek which causes your face to return to it’s peaceful state and you move closer to him. 

It was surprising that he fell for someone. You made your way into his life so unexpectedly and now he just wanted to take care of you. And he wouldn’t change a thing.

“Rest well.”

Xingqiu

very proper hugs because they are reciprocated in with the same energy, or even more, than the ones you may give him

he has no problem in giving you hugs away from prying eyes

he would usually whisk you away onto adventures with him with a promise of them

will get flustered when you hug him while saying just how much you appreciate him

You’re amused at the way he presents himself to others and talks to them as expected of him. Xingqiu was known to be mild- and well-mannered as his mischievous side was hidden from those not so close to him.

You both manage to escape the party, standing beside each other as you look up into the night sky. He feels less restricted with you and he takes this opportunity to lace his fingers through yours. You give him a fond smile and return to staring at the stars.

An idea pops into your head and you let go of his hand, him giving you a questioning look before he is brought into a hug. Xingqiu blushes at the suddenness of your actions but returns it nonetheless. His eyes keep diverting to the house so you have to reassure him that no one can see the both of you. 

“Let’s get out of here.”

Zhongli

he enjoys hugging, contrary to what most might think

he likes the intimate feeling and being close to someone he loves in such a sweet way that can be done anywhere

he will never deny you of the affection and if you initiate it he will go through with it no matter what

he’s always looking at you paired with a soft smile on his face whenever he has you in his arms

Zhongli’s voice pierces the quiet as you both take a stroll outside of Liyue. He’s telling you of its history and old traditions that have disappeared throughout the years, but you’re becoming tired due to the sound of his voice.

When you’re out of sight from the guards at the front gates you give a slight tug to the end of his coat sleeve. He stops in the middle of his story and sees that your eyes are growing weary. You keep your hold on his sleeve until you pull yourself to rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes and content with the sound of the night as you’re against him. 

He holds you close, making sure that you’re not actually asleep as it would make for a very interesting walk back. You tell him that you’re just resting your eyes for a few moments and that he can keep talking. That you love the sound of his voice. Zhongli places a kiss to your forehead as he continues, adoration for you clear in his eyes.

“Now, where was I...”

[moonlit-reveriee]

Baby Blue

technoblade x fem!reader

concept: techno is scared of ‘corrupting’ the reader, but the reader’s kinda into it...

content warning // NSFW, virgin!reader, very minor angst?, small argument that gets resolved

listen to this while you read: BBBlue (Single) by Olivver the Kid

(this fic was heavily inspired by the lyrics of this song, so i highly recommended giving it a listen!)

───※ ·❆· ※───

When Techno found out you were a virgin, he was terrified. Not necessarily of the thought itself, but of the implications.

He’d never forget the look on your face when you told him. You tried to be casual about it, but he knew you well enough to spot the dusting of pink across your cheeks. You nuzzled yourself closer into his side. Whether out of embarrassment or something else entirely, he couldn’t tell. All he could feel was his heart dropping as the voices chanted at him to “ruin her”

Of course you, his pure sweet angel, would be a virgin. He once again crumbled under the idea that you had chosen him. How on earth could a person like you even think of being with a beast like him. Yet alone, giving up your virginity to him.

He hated how horribly turned on he was by the thought of taking it.

The voices had been relentless about it ever since. They were hyper focused on your every move, twisting every thought of his into something promiscuous. When you rolled out of bed in the morning and stretched, a small sigh escaping your lips, it was endless cries of “make her do that again” “you should fuck those moans out of her” “make her scream”

While making breakfast together in the morning, they wouldn’t stop telling him to “bend her over the counter” “take it right here”

Even at times where he was alone, the voices preoccupied him with endless thoughts of you. He was fairly certain they had forced him to imagine every possible way in which he could have you. “imagine fucking her against the wall” “you can be gentle for the first time y’know” “she’d feel so good writhing underneath us” “press her face into the mattress instead” “make her get on her knees and suck you off” “she’ll be such a pretty little slut for us”

He tried to take care of himself as often as he could, but it was becoming impossible to keep up with. There were only so many times a day he could jerk himself off alone behind locked doors. He was desperate, and sexually frustrated to say the least.

He felt disgusting for it.

After a week of this torment, he could barely even look at you yet alone touch you without the voices and his own guilt pounding against his skull. You couldn’t even think about broaching the subject again, because he was avoiding physical contact like the plague. He wouldn’t come to bed until he knew you were asleep, and would leave long before you woke.

As much as he tried to hide it, you could tell he was tired. Something was wrong, but you knew that he’d never just tell you about his problems unprompted. Techno was insufferably stubborn in that way. After several days of avoiding your gaze and leaning away from your touch, you chose to confront him.

“Techno”, you called for his attention quietly, trying to sound stern while remaining gentle with him. He didn’t turn to fully face you, but he glanced at the spot on the wall just above your head.

You struggled to find the words you wanted to say, so you settled on telling him, “Techno, you look tired.”

He turned his attention away from you. “Just a lot of work around the house this week. I’ll be fine after I rest.”

“Then come to bed with me.” You saw the way his body tensed and tilted away from you at that simple suggestion.

“I just need to write a couple letters first. You can go ahead of me.”

“Techno...”, you whined, daring to take a step closer to him. He gave you an almost panicked look, “why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you”, he responded quickly, trying to look through you instead of at you.

“Yes you have”, you responded firmly. A flash of guilt washed over his face at your tone. “You haven’t kissed or touched me for nearly a week now. I don’t even know for sure if you sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Fuck, you barely even talk to me.”

Angry tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you wanted to hold them in. Techno felt his chest tighten at the sight of it. He instinctively turned and reached out to comfort you, but forced himself to freeze.

“There”, you said, gesturing towards him, “just like that. You’re stopping yourself. Why are you doing that?”

He repeatedly opened and closed his fists at his side, wanting to have any conversation other than this one.

“[y/n], there’s just a lot going on in my mind right now”, he said. It wasn’t a complete lie. “I just need to work though it.”

“Then let me help you.”

“No”, he responded a little too quickly, “I- I mean, I just don’t want to talk about it with you yet...”

“Why not?”, you retorted, trying to squeeze any information you could out of him.

“I just don’t, okay? It’s uncomfortable, I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“... is this about me being a virgin?”

“I never said that”, he replied, but the tension in his shoulders was enough to tip you off.

“Ah geez Technoblade, if it was that much of a problem for ya, you should have just told me”, you said sarcastically, “instead of avoiding all physical contact for a like week straight!”

“It’s not a problem, [y/n].”

“Certainly doesn’t feel that way.”

Techno huffed in frustration, grabbing a fistful of his hair at the root. He wasn’t sure if he was more upset with himself, or the fact that a few of the voices were still begging him to “please fuck her already”

“Love, I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t want it. They”, he tapped a finger against the side of his skull, “they want it so badly. It’s driving me insane.”

He breathed in and out shakily, trying to gauge your expression in the brief moments before he continued.

“I’m a monster. I’ve spilt more blood than anyone every should in a single lifetime. My appearance is more beast than man.”

He looked up briefly to find you staring right at him, a tight-lipped frown upon your face.

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“I- ... I don’t want to corrupt your innocence”, he admitted.

“What on earth do you mean by that?”

“[y/n], you’re so perfect”, he answered almost breathlessly, “you’re so kind and so pure. Just living with me does enough to taint your reputation, I don’t wanna-“

He cut himself off to swallow thickly. He almost seemed scared of the words he was going to say next.

“I don’t want to ruin this part of you either...”

A heavy silence filled the tiny sitting room of techno’s cottage. In those few seconds, your eyes widened ever so slightly as his words suddenly clicked in your mind. This hulking boar of a man, an undisputed war criminal, was scared. He was scared of damaging you, your reputation, or your recently revealed ‘innocence’. Compared to himself, he saw you as a pure being who could be tainted by unwholesome thoughts.

If what he said about the voices was true, then his actions of the past few days would’ve made sense for him.

“Oh techno...”, you muttered softly, tentatively placing a hand on his jaw. His posture was curled inward, making him look small despite his size. He was stiff at first, but allowed you to lift his gaze to meet yours. He searched your eyes desperately for an indication of your reaction. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

A small wave of confusion washed over his face, but he nodded anyways. “It was at the festival...”

“That’s right”, you said, moving the hand on his face down to rest over his shoulder, “and do you remember what I did that day?”

“You threw an axe into Schlatt’s shoulder”, he answered, watching as the scene played out in his memory.

You lived with Niki in her bakery at the time, and witnessed firsthand the injustice she faced during Schlatt’s presidency. As the chaos after Tubbo’s execution occurred, you took the opportunity to hurl your axe where Schlatt stood upon his podium. The blow wasn’t fatal, but that wasn’t necessarily your goal. You just wanted to see the man in pain.

“It was a lucky shot really”, you admitted, “I wasn’t even aiming properly.” That managed to draw a small smile onto Techno’s lips.

“And do you remember”, you continued, “when I tried to confront the Butcher Army by myself?”

He grimaced at the thought. You had told him you just needed to make a quick trip to L’manburg for some supplies, leaving him at home alone to recover from the previous day’s events. You returned that evening with a sprained wrist and a couple large bruises forming on your body. None of them were trying to kill you, but you took a pretty good beating from Quackity just for trying to confront them.

“Why are you bringing all of this up now?”, he asked.

“Because”, you said, “this is the evidence that will support my next point.”

He looked bewildered by that statement, but continued to listen.

“I’m not a perfect person”, you resumed, “I have blood on my hands just like you do. I know it’s hard to compare to you, but I’m not devoid of my own sins. I can be mean, I’ve hurt people. I’m not a pure, angelic being who would quiver at a single inappropriate thought. I think you forget that sometimes.”

He let your words swirl around in his head; he couldn’t deny the logic in them. The evidence prevented him from denying the truth of your statement. He could almost be mad that you’d talked him into a corner, but he was more overjoyed at the fact that you knew him well enough to do so.

“And you know...”, you spoke quietly, letting your hand fall down to rest on his chest, “if you did somehow ‘corrupt my innocence’ as you say... I really wouldn’t mind that.”

Techno’s breath hitched in his throat. There were a brief few moments, maybe minutes, where he just stared at you. Then his lips were on yours; sudden and clumsy, but passionate. You gripped the fabric of his shirt as he grabbed at your waist, desperate to have you in his arms again.

“I’m sorry, I had to”, he muttered, his lips left hovering a hair’s breadth away from yours.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you sighed affectionately, rubbing small circles into his collarbone. He gave you a gentle smirk before pressing another kiss into your lips.

“I’m sorry darling, I really am”, he said as he drew you into a tight hug. He took in your scent and the feel of your skin for the first time in days. It felt like he could survive off the feeling of your arms wrapped around his body alone. He wondered why he ever let himself be depraved of this.

“You know I trust you, right?”, you spoke with your face pressed into his chest.

“I’m not sure why, but yes.”

You decided not to reprimand him for saying that. You could help him unpack all that later. Instead, you brought your head up to whisper in his ear.

“You have my full and unconditional consent to take my virginity whenever you’re ready.”

Techno inhaled and held his breath, though for what, he wasn’t sure. It took a while for the full weight of those words to sink in. He leaned back to stare at your face, bringing one of his large and shaky hands up to cup your cheek.

“Are you sure?”, his eyes were wide with trepidation, practically pleading with you to tell him the truth. You leaned into his palm, indulging in the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I want you, techno. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Techno was lost in your words. The sudden absence of guilt left his heart light and airy in his chest. For the first time in days, the voices were only a gentle murmur.

“she’s so beautiful” “she wants you” “make her feel good” “show her how special she is” “make her smile” “she’ll be so pretty” “she’s always pretty” “be gentle, no need to rush”

“make love to her”

“... I think I’m ready now.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

ayyyy guess who finally finished writing something!!!

parts of this feel a little rushed but ehhhhhh i was just excited to finally post it. i looove writing techno as an extremely self-conscious character who’s too caught up in their own head to see how ridiculous they’re being. so, this was a treat for me to write

i hope you enjoyed :D

-moonlight

[rax-writes]

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Fandom:  MCU Pairing:  Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader Warnings:  Sexual intercourse with a female-identifying person with a vagina + a bit of sugar daddy Zemo vibes at the end Notes:  Y’all... don’t judge me. I have a power kink, and Marvel did me dirty by randomly deciding that Zemo is fifthly rich royalty. And my girl @henrysmorgan​ did me even dirtier by actively encouraging my attraction to this fucker. So, blame Marvel, and blame her. // This is kind of really fucking long, and I didn’t edit it much, because I wanted to get it posted before episode 4, in case that episode flips the script. So, potentially some editing issues, and slightly rushed writing. Hopefully it’s alright, but please let me know if I screwed up anywhere. // Lots and lots of TFAWS ep. 3 spoilers

When Bucky texted you to ask that you meet him in some dusty, old, abandoned-looking car garage, you certainly didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that an old friend needed your help, so you intended to be there.

It had been a few months since you’d last seen him, and even longer since you’d participated in any sort of mission, but you suspected that was what you were walking into. Being exposed to the Mind Stone had granted you the power of telepathy, which meant that SHIELD was quite keen on persuading you to work for them. They trained you in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat, and you went on miscellaneous missions a handful of times. They put in a lot of effort to convince you that it was your moral obligation as an “enhanced individual” to help them with these missions, but you ultimately decided that that simply wasn’t the kind of life you wanted. Instead, after the Blip, you began working a desk job for SHIELD, which is when you crossed paths with Bucky, helping him with paperwork associated with his pardon, and the two of you formed a friendship. But SHIELD kept trying to coerce you to get back into the field, constantly badgering you about it and making it clear that you weren’t wanted if all you were doing was paperwork.

The truth is, you weren’t cut out to be a superhero, and you had no desire to be. It didn’t help that your entire country had been reduced to rubble several years prior, leaving you with a bottomless pit of homelessness in your heart. So, you left SHIELD, and started a life in Berlin, where you were content to live out your days as the owner of a small bakery, residing in the small apartment above your shop.

That is, until Bucky Barnes dragged you into a particularly sticky situation, with a certain Baron Helmut Zemo.

You knew that helping Bucky and Sam would throw a colossal wrench in the life you’d created for yourself in Berlin, but after they explained the situation with the super soldiers, coupled with Bucky’s puppy dog eyes, you found yourself refraining from storming out of the building the second you saw Helmut fucking Zemo.

“We need you to keep an eye on him. You don’t have to tap into his mind 24/7, we just want a heads up if he’s going to screw us over,” Bucky explained.

"Look, we really need him. We’re obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel here, otherwise he'd still be in that cell. And neither of us want to be packing a criminal around like a rich bitch's chihuahua, so we need you here to make sure we're not gonna get bit," Sam explained.

"Fine. But you both owe me," you relented, and they both took sighs of relief. You glanced at Zemo, locking eyes with him for several tense moments. He gave you a polite smile, giving off the impression that he had nothing to hide – which he didn't, as his thoughts showed his intentions were pure at the moment. "We're good for now. He just genuinely wants the opportunity to take down these new super soldiers."

Sam and Bucky nodded, visibly releasing tension from their shoulders as they moved to head out, now reassured that Zemo was truly on their side. Meanwhile, Zemo eyed you with curiosity and awe, murmuring, "Fascinating."

The four of you walked on the landing strip toward a private jet, owned by Zemo.

"So all this time you've been rich?"

"I was a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country," Zemo explained, before glancing at you with a small smile. "But you knew that already."

"Wait, how did she know that?" Sam asked, then turned to you. "How did you know that?"

"I am Sokovian myself. I was certainly not royalty, but I lived there for my entire life, until it was destroyed," you explained, stopping outside the jet as Zemo greeted the elderly butler, Oeznik, in your native language. It made you smile to yourself; it had been years since you'd heard it spoken. Zemo shot you a grin when he noticed, and when you took a peek into his mind, you saw that he understood exactly how you felt.

As the butler handed Zemo a flute of champagne after you all boarded the jet, the Baron smiled politely as Oeznik stated, “Apologies if that's a little warm. The fridge is out, but I will see if there is some good food in the galley.”

Zemo glanced as you sat across from him, then in Sokovian, Zemo told Oeznik, "Another flute for the lady, please. And if the food does not pass the smell test, give it to the gentlemen."

"It's good to have you back, sir!"

As the man retreated to the cockpit, also in Sokovian, you noted, "You are a mischievous man, even more so than in your infamously criminal ways."

"You will find that there is more to me than meets the eye, angel," he responded coolly, the Sokovian language rolling off his tongue like honey. Before you could respond, admittedly enjoying speaking Sokovian, Sam grew tired of everyone speaking a language he couldn't understand.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?"

After a tense exchange between Bucky and Zemo, followed by a discussion about Marvin Gaye, Zemo finally got to the point: Madripoor. You exhaled slowly, resting your forehead in your palm in exasperation.

“You couldn’t have invited me on a mission to Cancun? Or Paris? Why must it be Madripoor?” you asked Bucky, who shot you a tight-lipped, pitying smile, silently apologizing for what he was dragging you into.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s,” Bucky explained.

“And upon seeing it, you would see that times there haven’t changed one bit since then,” you added.

“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone,” Zemo said.

You frowned as you caught a glimpse of Bucky’s thoughts as he went silent. Fear. Anxiety. Disdain. Apprehension. You reached across to rest your hand on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. He shot you a small smile, then looked out the window.

Upon landing in Madripoor, one of Zemo’s contacts met you on the landing strip with a new wardrobe for you, Bucky, and Sam, and Zemo explained that each outfit was per his instruction, carefully chosen to fit the role each of you would be playing in Madripoor. One by one, you took the covered clothes hanger to the bathroom of the jet and changed. Bucky was first, stepping out in some sort of leather number, looking eerily similar to the Winter Soldier you’d seen in photos. Sam was next, donning a three-piece suit of burgundy and gold. He looked sharp, although he was immediately complaining about how ostentatious it was. And finally, you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, unzipping the covering on the hanger and revealing your “carefully chosen” outfit.

“Ich werde dir im Schlaf die Eier abreißen, Zemo!”

Bucky choked on his water and Zemo chuckled under his breath, while Sam looked between the two in confusion.

“I don’t know what she said, but she sounded pissed,” he observed, eyeing Zemo suspiciously.

“She informed me that she intends to remove my testicles in my sleep.”

“And why is that?”

“Perhaps because he’s chosen to parade me around Madripoor like a cheap whore,” you said angrily, stepping out of the bathroom with your hands on your hips, glaring at Zemo.

“That dress is by Armani Prive, and your shoes are Louboutins – far from ‘cheap.’ And you do not look like a whore, the dress is merely more revealing than what you are used to,” Zemo argued, standing and walking over to survey your outfit. He seemed to be enjoying what he saw, judging from the way his eyes raked up and down your body, but you didn’t dare check his thoughts to confirm or deny it.

If you were honest with yourself, he was right. It was a very nice dress; plum purple, matching the color of Zemo’s turtleneck, with long, fitted sleeves, all of it made of the softest silk you had ever touched. It was fitted at the top but flowy from the hips down, with a low balconette-style neckline, showing more of your chest than you were accustomed to, although you pulled it off quite nicely. It ended just above your knees, which was fine, as you sometimes wore skirts of that length. Overall, the luxury of it and the low-cut neckline ensured that you were out of your comfort zone, but you looked stunning – and expensive, despite your spite-fueled initial claim.

“I thought the color would look nice on you, and I was right. And I knew that the flow of the fabric at the bottom would allow for this,” Zemo said, his hand gingerly trailing from your waist to your thigh, where he pulled up the hem of your dress slightly to reveal the edge of the Glock strapped into your thigh holster. He smirked as his suspicion was confirmed. He knew you’d find a way to arm yourself, regardless of what you wore.

In hindsight, the way Zemo touched your side and lifted your skirt was all far more intimate than you should have allowed, and yet… you couldn’t deny the way your breath caught in your throat when he touched you, or how his close proximity made your body temperature rise, as he gazed down at you with those intense brown eyes.

Christ, you needed to get laid. Soon. Before you further entertained the idea of jumping the bones of a highly wanted criminal.

“Touch me like that again, and I will kill you where you stand,” you informed him sternly, and Zemo immediately took a step backwards, looking apologetic. From the corner of your eye, you saw both Sam and Bucky visibly relax, tension leaving their shoulders. You had read their thoughts briefly, and they were both wondering why the hell you were so calm about getting cozy with Zemo. The absolute last thing you wanted was for them to know that you were, in fact, inexplicably drawn to being that close to the Baron.

As the four of you walked along a bridge in Madripoor, Sam was quick to resume his complaining.

“We have to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname,” Sam grumbled, then looked at the phone Zemo handed him. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” you inquired, glancing down at your clothing to see if you could guess who you were meant to be portraying. An heiress or socialite, perhaps.

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered simply, the faintest smile on his lips.

You barked out a crude laugh, “Oh, I think not.”

“There is no one involved with Madripoor who looks like you. And it is rare that there are newcomers to the island, especially not in the place we’re going. Pretending you are someone random would raise concerns about the intentions of your presence; you would be perceived as a potential threat, which would jeopardize our mission. It is far easier to simply pretend we are engaged, I assure you.”

You hesitated a moment, before arguing, “No one will believe that we are engaged.”

Zemo pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket, took your left hand, and slipped it onto your ring finger. It was a solitaire diamond ring; not large enough to be gaudy, but enough to catch anyone’s eye.

“They will if you play your part well,” he told you, then addressed the rest of your party when he added, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

The four of you reached a sleek black car, and climbed in, you in the back between Sam and Bucky. The ride to Low Town was tense and silent, as each of you mentally prepared for what lay ahead. When you arrived, Zemo offered you his hand as you exited the car, and the pointed look in his eyes told you that it was time to begin playing your part. You took his hand, and as you began walking into the heart of Low Town, he laced his fingers with yours. As the crowd drew near, Zemo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, gloved fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. After reading his mind, you realized that it was both for the sake of protecting you, and showing possessiveness to make it believable that you were his girl – and because he simply enjoyed having your body close, although you suspected that he’d rather you have not known that.

Despite the fact that you had been on a few missions for SHIELD, you were not exactly incapable of fear; you did not possess nerves of steel. All of the missions you’d been on were low-profile, and you were mostly just there for the sake of gathering information from those reluctant to share it. Sure, you’d been in danger before, you’d had to fight your way out of several sticky situations, but this… this was different. You were in the crime capital of the world, a lawless place filled to the brim with crooks, thieves, and murderers. More than likely, any given person around could slit your throat and never bat an eye or give you a second thought. Swallowing your own pride in the face of fear prompted you to return Zemo’s gesture, wrapping your arm around his waist and sticking close to him, which earned a smile from the man.

When you arrived at your destination, Zemo approached the bar and leaned against it confidently on one arm, the other still wrapped firmly around your shoulders.

“Hello, gentleman,” the bartender greeted, before his eyes fell on you. “Who’s your new lady friend, Baron?”

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered, then turned to you and ran his finger along your jawline, as you looked at him in adoration. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“Very,” the bartender acknowledged, then turned to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby,” Zemo responded.

The bartender made ‘Smiling Tiger’ his usual drink, which apparently consisted of… something he cut out of a snake, and dropped in a shot glass with a bit of liquor. You shared a look with Bucky before he turned away to survey the room, and when you read his thoughts, you found that you both desperately wanted to laugh out loud at Sam’s ‘short end of the stick’ situation, but didn’t want to risk everyone’s lives for the sake of a chuckle. You returned your attention to Zemo, opting to sell the whole “fiancée” thing a bit more by turning into him and tracing patterns on his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, while the bartender handed you and Zemo each a shot glass of your own – sans snake organs, thankfully. You both downed yours, while Sam understandably struggled a bit more with his, but still managed it.

A random man approached Zemo then, and as Zemo turned to face him, he protectively moved you behind him a bit.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo countered, gesturing toward Bucky, who looked menacing as he pretended to be the Winter Soldier. “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

After a weary look in Bucky’s direction, the man walked away, and Zemo turned back around to face the bar, this time keeping you in between him in the bar, in case someone were to come up behind him – which they did a few moments later.

“Winter Soldier… attack,” Zemo commanded in Russian, as a different man came up and laid a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. With a pained look in his eye that quickly shifted to cold determination, Bucky grabbed the man’s hand with his vibranium arm, twisting it as he removed it from Zemo’s shoulder. Zemo took a step away from the bar to allow you room to turn and observe as Bucky beat the absolute shit out of various challengers. Zemo wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he noted, “Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.”

The unmistakable sound of numerous guns cocking drew your attention away from the altercation, and Zemo gently pushed you behind him as he surveyed the room to note all the weapons drawn. Sam grabbed Bucky’s bionic arm to stop him, but Zemo whispered, “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.”

“Well done, soldier,” Zemo then said to Bucky in Russian, signaling for the ‘Winter Soldier’ to stop.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interjected, and Bucky released his grip on the random man’s throat.

“Thank you,” Zemo responded, walking off to find Selby, grabbing your hand to guide you, but not before you spared a sorrowful glance at Bucky as your friends followed closely behind.

As Zemo took a seat on a couch across from Selby, you sat close to him, crossing your legs gracefully as you leaned into him, your arm wrapped around his as he clasped his hands in his lap authoritatively. You watched his exchange with Selby in silence, as did Sam – and Bucky, of course, considering he was pretending to be the Winter Soldier.

“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison,” Selby told Zemo, then smiled as she looked you up and down, before her eyes found the diamond ring. “And not engaged – to a woman far out of your league, I might add.”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered calmly, then looked over at you, staring into your eyes with warmth and adoration, and you smiled lovingly at him. “My beautiful fiancée was a guard at the prison. We fell in love over the years, and she helped me escape. Anyway, I’m sure you have already figured out what I’m here for.”

The conversation went relatively smoothly after that, until Sam’s goddamn phone rang and screwed the entire operation. In the blink of an eye, Selby was shot dead, you had shot two of the guards with the gun strapped to your thigh, and Sam and Bucky had each knocked out one, before Zemo suggested sneaking out of the bar as best you could, without any weapons. You secured your gun back in its holster, not missing the way Zemo watched as you hiked your dress up to do so, before making a break for it with the three of them.

Once you were on the streets of Madripoor, bounty hunters began to come out of the woodwork, and when they began shooting at you, Zemo abruptly grabbed your hand and ran down a nearby alleyway. As you were running, the heel of your stiletto caught on a grate, and you’d have fallen flat on your face if Zemo hadn’t caught you.

“Are you alright?” he asked hurriedly, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he supported you, before standing you back onto your feet. You nodded, and he glanced over your shoulder as he noticed a few men looking down the alley. “Forgive me.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about, but then Zemo abruptly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, pinned you against the wall behind you, and kissed you.

The men at the end of the alleyway muttered something about “freaks who do it in public,” then their footsteps faded as they walked off, clearly thinking the two of you were some overly horny couple, not two of the people with an insane bounty on their heads. But you were barely paying them any attention, a bit preoccupied with the fact that Zemo was fucking kissing you, and much to your chagrin, you really fucking liked it.

Once there were no more voices and no more footsteps, Zemo broke the kiss and sat you down. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before you heard more gunshots, and you broke into a run in the direction Bucky and Sam had gone, desperate to find your friends, and no time to process what the hell just happened.

As soon as you caught up with them, the two bounty hunters nearby were shot dead, and the four of you turned to see Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows.

An hour later, you found yourself in her swanky home in High Town, in a change of clothes, since the brick wall Zemo had held you up against ripped the back of your silk dress. You lied to Sam and Bucky, saying that it happened because you fell while running in your heels, and thankfully, they believed you. Sharon commanded the four of you to lay low and enjoy the party, which Sam and Bucky left her living room to go do, entrusting you with ‘Zemo watch.’

It seemed as though he was merely nursing his brandy in lieu of abandoning it for the party prior to finishing it off, but his eyes were on you most of the time. You didn't necessarily believe he could be plotting to overpower you and run off, but there is always that possibility, so you delved into his mind to check.

Expecting to find thoughts of strategy about how to defeat the super soldiers or travel plans, or even plots to escape you, Bucky, and Sam, you were astounded to find nothing but thoughts of you.

The way it felt to kiss you in that alleyway, and how he had monetarily debated just staying there, having his way with you against the brick wall before Sam and Bucky could locate you. The dress from the bar, and how it rested on your thighs, revealing just enough to have his mouth watering without being revealing to the point of immodesty. The way your necklace currently rested against your bare collarbone, and how desperately he craved to litter the area with love bites. The delicate skin of your throat, thinking of how it would look with his hand wrapped around it, just enough to cut off a bit of air but not enough harm you. How alluring your voice is, and how much he'd like to know what it would sound like to hear you scream his name. The softness and warmness of your skin when he had his arm around you in the bar, and when he held your hand as you fled the scene, and he wondered how soft and warm you were elsewhere.

"Your thoughts are filthy."

He bristled immediately, sitting straighter in his seat and eyes going slightly wide, either forgetting you can read minds or not realizing you'd be doing it right then. It only took a moment for him to regain his composure, before he took one long, last drink of his brandy and set the glass on the table in front of him. He turned his whole body to the side to face you, as you sat on the opposite end of the couch, wearing a small, somewhat mischievous smile.

"I suppose there is no sense in denying it, is there?"

"What game are you playing, Zemo?" you snapped. He was rattling you. As much as you hated to admit it, he was. For the entirety of the time you'd been around him, this wanted criminal had been flustering you, and goddammit it, you wanted to know if it was accidental, or for nefarious purposes. He could be using it as a tactic to throw you off your game, so that he could get away when it was just the two of you – like right now.

"There is no game, Liebling," he stated softly and sincerely, sensing your discomfort. Slowly, he scooted closer to you on the couch, so that the arm he had laid across the back of it was now behind you, as he stared intently into your eyes. "Merely the natural response of a man who has been widowed and then locked in a prison cell, and therefore has not known the touch of a woman in many years, sitting next to a woman of absolute ethereal beauty."

You said nothing, merely stared at him, sizing him up to see if he was toying with you or telling the truth. Zemo sensed your lack of belief in his words.

"If you doubt my true intentions, you are welcome to delve as deep into my mind as you'd like to find the truth."

In all honesty, you'd have done that already if you weren't trying to avoid being even more flustered by his thoughts about you – but you couldn't tell him that. So, you did as he bade you, and searched his mind to find any shred of malevolence towards you, but you came out empty-handed. Zemo genuinely just wanted you, craved you, like a starved man sitting in front of an endless buffet. He watched you carefully as you came to this conclusion, and although you said nothing further, he knew that you had found what you needed to know.

"Just say the word, and I will never approach the topic again, as well as attempt to quiet my thoughts about you. But if there is any part of you... deep inside you," Zemo paused, eyes grazing you up and down purposefully, before continuing, "that has any interest in being with me... I will do anything to bring that to fruition."

The ball was in your court now. You could tell him to get bent and never speak to you like this again… or you could get your rocks off, and maybe even get something more in return.

"Such as?"

"Name it, Schätzchen. Anything you want. A car, a mansion, jewels – say it and it's yours, if you will be mine," Zemo proposed earnestly, licking his lips quickly as he looked at you, visibly thrilled that he was getting somewhere with you.

You weren't the type to accept gifts from men you barely know, but… this was Zemo. A man who had done a great many terrible things, which soothed your guilty conscience. So, you said the first thing that came to mind.

"A car," you blurted out, then explained, "Mine broke down a week ago, and it's beyond repair, so… a car."

"Tell me the make and model of your preference and I'll have it delivered to your home within a week's time," Zemo said calmly, then brushed a lock of hair away from your face, before allowing his fingers to trail delicately along your cheek and jawline. "Is that all, Kätzchen?"

"No. One more thing," you replied, then looked at him sternly. "You must agree to never speak of this to Bucky or Sam."

"You have my word," he assured you, smiling in amusement.

"Then I'm yours."

Zemo's smile faded slowly, and he merely stared at you for a split second, before cupping your face in his hands and pulled you into a searing kiss, full of ferocity and sheer desperation. It shouldn't have been this easy, to kiss a man who's done such terrible things – yet here you were, melting into his embrace, allowing him to pull you into his lap and straddle him, your hands resting on his shoulders and gripping the black fabric of his turtleneck. His hands laid flat against your back as he kissed you in this new position, slowly gliding down, down your sides and to your hips. He kissed you in a way that was feverish and fast and hungry, as his fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly against him as if he were fearful that this was all a dream and you'd disappear at any moment. Upon taking a peek into his mind, you realized that was actually exactly what he was thinking. Additionally, he mentally spoke to you directly, somehow knowing you were reading his thoughts at that moment.

"Tell me if I do anything that you do not like, and know that you have absolute freedom to end this at any given moment."

You pulled away slightly to nod in confirmation that you received his message, before resuming the kiss. Mind hazy and instincts taking over, you found yourself tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a low groan from Zemo. One of his hands darted upwards to grab a fistful of your hair, right against your scalp at the base of your neck, and he pulled on it harshly, causing you to let out a wonton moan. He then laid that hand flat against the back of your neck, holding your lips firmly against his as he kissed you with even more fervor, and the other vacated its position on your hip to slide slowly up your torso, until he began palming your beast through your shirt. You moaned softly against his lips, but not as loudly as a moment ago.

Zemo wanted more, needed more; he longed to hear you loud and desperate. So he delved that hand at your neck back into your hair, gripping it tightly once more, and used it to pull your head backwards a bit, so that he could have better access to your neck. The action itself, and the tightness of his grip, earned an embarrassingly loud moan to escape your lips, and you felt him smile against your skin. He moved his hand to the middle of your back, supporting you as you leaned back a bit to grant him better access. As he littered your neck and décolletage with kisses, you felt him pull the neckline of your blouse down a little, then felt the sharp pain of a bite on your chest, above your breast. When you looked at him with narrowed eyes, he wore a cocky little grin.

"You should not be surprised, Liebling. I know you saw that I've been wanting to do that all day when you read my mind," he noted. "Wear a high neckline tomorrow, it will be fine."

Before you could respond, Zemo pulled you flush against his chest with that hand behind your back, and into another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and without thinking, you ground your hips down on the bulge resting against your core beneath your skirt. He groaned, both hands flying to your hips to push them down again, guiding them as you repeated the action. It only took a minute or two of this before Zemo had enough, abruptly grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the couch beside him. He then loomed over you, one hand propping himself up and the other applying slight pressure to your throat, gazing at you with admiration in those searing eyes, pupils blown wide from lust. You looked right back at him, pupils undoubtedly dilated as well, eyes half-lidded, panting a little, and hair a bit of a mess.

"You are an absolute vision," Zemo praised softly, to which you smiled, then he released his grip on your neck to lean down and kiss you again. That only lasted a moment, before he broke the kiss to pull your blouse up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. Your bra joined it shortly after, then he moved to your skirt, fussing with the zipper for a moment, but it seemed to be caught on something, as it wouldn't budge. Before you could interject and state that you'd get the zipper yourself, Zemo ripped the seam apart with his hands, before tearing the article from your body and tossing it like he had with the blouse. A gasp escaped you, but you had no time to think much about his actions, before he was pulling off your panties and bra as well, dropping them somewhere beside the couch.

He was then looming over you again, kissing you breathless as he rested on one elbow while the other hand toyed with your nipple, his knee coming up to rest between your legs as he laid between your body and the back of the couch. You tangled your fingers in Zemo's hair, moaning against his lips as you sought friction against his leg. He smiled softly against your lips, before your hands wandered, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it off of him. You had just managed to get his belt off before his hand left your breast, trailing downwards across your torso as he moved his knee further away from you, before delving between your hips and expertly locating your clit.

No longer capable of focusing on ridding Zemo of his clothes, your hands gripped his shoulders, and he hissed deliciously as your nails dug into his skin when he began rubbing small, methodical circles on your clit. Small moans fell from your lips as he watched the way your mouth hung open slightly, face relaxed and eyes closed as you enjoyed his work. But again, he wanted more, needed more. Still observing you, he delved his middle and ring fingers into your core, causing you to let out a loud gasp that faded into a long, low moan. Zemo smiled to himself. That was the reaction he was dying for.

He kissed you senseless, drinking in your moans and gasps of pleasure like wine, his free hand cradling the back of your head as your arms wrapped around his neck. It didn't take Zemo long to find that sweet spot, deep inside you – as he'd subtly alluded to earlier – that longed for his attention the most.

You couldn't help but moan loudly and cry out, "Fuck! Baron!" Zemo growled low in your ear, clearly a fan of your usage of his title as he picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers with expert precision and speed, sending you hurtling over the edge with a string of curses in both Sokovian and English. By the time he removed his fingers from you and stood, you were seeing stars, breathing heavily as you laid flat against the couch. When your dazed gaze found him, he was naked from the waist down, and was just finishing rolling a condom over his length. You had no idea where he got it from, but you were way beyond giving a shit at this point. Zemo then rejoined you on the couch, roughly spreading your legs apart as he kneeled between them, looking at you with a primal, deep hunger in his eyes.

"You are certain that you want this?"

"Yes, please – fuck," you cut yourself off as he began rubbing your clit again.

"Yes please, what?" His voice was low, teasing, as he continued his work below. "I want to hear you say it again, Kätzchen."

"Yes, please, Baron."

"Good girl."

Zemo took your leg and rested your calf on his shoulder, before easing himself into you, agonizingly slow. You watched through half-lidded eyes as his brows furrowed together, his jaw went slack, and his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out. He was silent, but you very much preferred it when he was a bit vocal. So, you flexed your muscles down there, and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder.

"Do not do that if you want this to last long," Zemo suggested through clenched teeth. You smiled to yourself, then said the magic word that you knew would get him going.

"Yes, Baron."

He growled again, right in your ear, then sat more upright to begin a harsh, quick pace of thrusting. His hips collided with your body each time, causing a delicious sort of pain, and he leaned down to lock you in a messy, deep kiss.

A few minutes later, Zemo moved your other calf to his shoulder as well, and the new position enabled him to get delectably deep inside you. You raked your nails down his chest, watching as a shudder ran down his spine, all the while releasing small, breathless moans and whimpers. When he opened his eyes again to gaze down at you, he licked his lips before delving both hands under your head and into your hair, and forcefully gripped two fitfuls of it at the base of your skull. The moan that tore its way from your throat was animalistic, as your nails dug into his forearms as you desperately gripped them from their positions on either side of your head. Just then, he hit a spot deep inside of you, and that familiar, tight coil in your lower belly began to form.

"Fuck! Right there, Baron, please, right there!"

"As you wish, Schätzchen."

Zemo began to thrust even faster, careful to maintain the same angle as he released his grip on your hair and leaned up a bit, so that he could resume rubbing your clit. Moans began to fall from your lips practically endlessly, and somehow, you still needed more. More, more, more. You took his free hand and laid it on your neck, and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around your throat, careful to apply pressure on the sides but not the front, as to avoid harming you. When he opened his eyes once again and looked down at you, he couldn't stop the moan that escaped him.

"You will be the death of me, mein Engel," Zemo whispered, seemingly more to himself. All you could do was moan in response.

"Baron, I'm going to – fuck – I'm —"

"Yes, come for me, Kätzchen. I want to feel you."

That was all the encouragement it took. Well, that plus how perfectly he was rubbing your bundle of nerves, and how his pace nor angle had faltered once since you had requested exactly that. You came undone again, legs shaking as your nails clawed at his shoulder blades, earning a series of groans from him. As you came down from your high, Zemo's hips began to falter, enthralled by the waterfall you had become, soaking the base of his cock as your walls squeezed around him. His hand at your wet heat abruptly moved to grip your hip, at the same moment his hand around your throat clutched at your hair again, and he met his end with a loud, gruff moan as he spoke a mantra of nonsensical praises and your name.

Zemo rested on his arms on either side of your head, and he let your legs fall to the sides of him, breathing hard against your neck as he occasionally peppered kisses there. He remained inside you for a few moments, savoring the feeling, before you chose to have a bit of extra fun by flexing your lower muscles and squeezing yourself around him again. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled out of you, shooting you a glare.

In Sokovian, he murmured, "You are a naughty little thing."

"You adore it."

"That I do," Zemo conceded, then stood and walked off to the restroom. You heard the tap run, and a few moments later, he returned with a glass of water for you, sitting beside your feet on the couch and resting his heels on the coffee table. He was exceptionally handsome like this; still catching his breath, sweat glistening on his forehead and chest, a content look upon his face. You spent a minute or two admiring him, before he looked over to you, and a smile blossomed on his lips.

"I cannot thank you enough for that. I must admit, I spent countless nights alone in my cell, dreaming about getting to touch a woman like that again. Especially considering the fall of our country, I never could have imagined I would be lucky enough to lay with a stunning, intelligent Sokovian woman."

"In the spirit of confessions, it's been a while for me, too. My last boyfriend was about two years ago. And I'm not the one-night-stand type. So, do with that what you will," you stated, earning a small chuckle from Zemo. You sat up so that you were sitting beside him, instead of laying down, as you continued. "I fantasized about it a lot myself, but I never even dared to think my next time would be as good as this was."

Zemo smiled, a mix of pride and joy, then his smile softened as he leaned toward you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "This doesn't have to be our last time, you know. I would be honored to have you as often as you'd allow me to. And I assure you, I would make it worth your while. I will give you whichever vehicles your heart desires, more jewelry than you know what to do with, take you to the most beautiful places in the world, dine at only the finest restaurants – and above all, treat you like my queen. Take care of me, and I will take care of you, Liebling."

You allowed your curiosity to get the better of you, as usual when you feared that someone was lying to you. You searched his mind for any fraction of false pretenses, but there were none. The man simply found you intoxicating, and would do whatever it takes to keep drinking you in.

The arrangement wouldn't exactly be an easy one, nor would it be all that wise – nor morally correct, in all honesty. But he was undeniably sexy, and the danger and reprehensibility of it all made it that much more alluring. And besides all that – the way his power and wealth turned you on, how good he was capable of making you feel – most Sokovians were dead, and you missed home. Getting to speak your native tongue with him, chat about your country – it made you feel at home with him.

But you wouldn't give Zemo the satisfaction of agreeing to him that quickly.

“We'll see.”

—————

Part Two