#after displaying her true face and screaming in his with it

[wolfwarrior142]

It really is a curse to my fuckin brain that my favorite show has a character named Viren and my fave videogame has a character named Riven. Two very different characters. One a human mage, one a massive reality-bending and extremely dangerous wish dragon. Both with extremely similar names that I mix up ALL THE FUCKING TIME.

[dilf-docs]

Sabor A Chocolate

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend eddie and his symbiote pal just make sure you know how loved you are.

warnings: sfw (there's always a first), tooth rotting fluff, my attempt at comedy (less funnier than friends), age gap (blog's brand ofc), chubby!reader, she's very insecure but actually deserves the world💔, angst, hurt/comfort, discussions of body image (neg), venom/eddie giving her the love she deserves!!!! kinda took some inspo on elefante's song by the same name of the title, set before venom 2 (not important actually)

word count: 2,580 words

side note: so i watched again venom 3 now that it's available on stream and i'm full of grief for my black little people eater alien💔 anywayyyy this is a based on this request; i hope u enjoy it my lil' frien :) ALSO tysm for leaving ur message!!!!!!!!!

It was Mrs. Chen's fault, really.

It all started with a late trip to the convinience store, which happened to be owned by one of your mother's closest friends.

Final's week was approaching, and with all the academic pressure, you tend to study until late hours, which means snack time can also end up happening in the middle of the night. Which is the reason why you're scouring through the store at 10pm, your hand occupied with some chocolates and chips to endure the rest of the study session you've got ahead.

The door makes its silly sound, announcing a new customer.

"Hey Eddie!" you hear Mrs. Chen's voice. You hide behind one of the shelves, ashamed of your aspect: one thing is a close elderly friend seeing you like this, another is a total stranger watching your final's week look: consisting of a long over-sized shirt with a washed up Welcome To San Francisco! on the front, some pajama shorts that ride up your thighs, a ponytail-bun hybrid and bare face.

"Hello, Mrs. Chen" the gravely voice returns. Oh, it's a guy: a guy with a very nice tone. You wonder if the face matches the voice, "looking good"

If possible, you get more embarrased than before. You don't usually have that much game, but if you were to get a chance, it definetely won't happen with you looking like this. You desperately want to get out, but leaving the food behind is a huge no. Also, getting out through the door without the man noticing is quite literally imposible.

She snickers, "I always look good!"

You decide to stay put until he leaves, hiding next to the chocolate shelf.

"What are you getting tonight, Eddie?" the elder woman makes a pause, "let me guess..."

You hear foot-steps against the floor, the sound growing stronger and closer. You pray to anyone out there who can hear you to stop what you think's going to happen.

"You already know what it is, Mrs. Chen" a beat, "chocolates!"

He screams first. You then scream, and then Mrs. Chen shuts you two idiots up.

"Stop shouting in my store! You'll scare possible customers"

"I'm sorry" Eddie says, then turns to you again and repeats his apology, "I'm sorry"

"I'm sorry too" you laugh, ashamed. "I didn't mean to scare you"

Now, Eddie takes in your figure better. Yes, your aspect is very poor, but it doesn't erase your beauty. He can understand: thanks to Venom, he's been sweaty and bad-looking before.

"Is everything okay?" you ask, growing a bit self conscious with the staring. It's definitely happened before, and not for good reasons.

"Yes!" he answers hastily, then coughs, rosy cheeks on display. "I'm Eddie, by the way"

"Glad we cleared that up" you chirp, almost breathing with relief on the spot, "I'm y/n!"

"Pretty name" he whistles, "pleased to see the name matches the face"

"Oh" you blush furiously. Is he being for real? This absolutely gorgeous strong older man? It's like a dream come true; maybe it is. No way a man, a good looking one on top of that, notices you, especially now that you're looking the worst possible ever.

"Are you buying or what?" Mrs. Chen pops up from behind you both. "Flirt later, after you buy. Outside"

"Geez, Mrs. Chen. I thought you were my friend" he feigs sadness, a hand over his chest. "You sure know how to kill a guy's game"

You giggle, and Mrs. Chen looks at you, then at Eddie and smiles. Ah, you know that look. God, this is about to turn very embarrassing.

"Not with y/n" she elbows your side, not so discreet. "My girl here is difficult to scare"

You turn red again. "Don't know what that says about me" then you lean closer to Eddie, whispering. He gets a whiff of the strawberry splash you put on yourself (you may look bad, but smell bad? never). "Mrs. Chen's friends with my mom, please don't listen to anything she says"

"Well, thank you, Mrs. Chen" he then looks at you and winks. He mouths an I'll help you, and you find yourself blushing for the 100th time. "Help me check this out, won't you?" he shows some chocolates. She leaves with Eddie, saying something like For your friend, right? but you're too busy thinking about how that could've gone in a more embarrassing way. The downside? She totally noticed the exchange; after the wink and asking your name part, you're positive it isn't one-sided.

"Hey, um. Y/n, right?" you nod too vigorous, like a fool. Just a name exchange and you're already this down bad? You need to stop. "Do you need help with that?" he points out the snacks that, at this point, you've already forgotten about.

"Oh! I can carry it myself" you dismiss.

"No, not that kind of help. I can see you're doing a pretty good job yourself" he gets closer, and your skin gets goosebumps at the closeness, even feeling his breathe on you. He's making you nervous just like that. "I'll pay for it"

Low husky voice whispering to you? Close proximity? And paying for your snacks at the very first meet? Is this some sort of trick or a straight out of a rom-com scenario?

You tend to more skeptical, but this guy is definitely working on you.

"C'mon. Don't leave me hanging in here, doll" he encourages, seeing your lack of motion. You blush (again) at the compliment. "Rough night?"

"Just finals" you answer while giving him your two snacks.

"Are you in college?" you nod. Then, you both walk to the entrance, where Mrs. Chen gives you with a look you try to ignore. She checks out your snacks and his chocolates. You wonder if he likes the same as yours, and why he's got so many of them. "Wow, what are you studying?"

"Journalism!" you answer a bit too excited, but God, don't you love your degree. "The reason I'm studying journalism is because I love to write. Through it, I would love to help others without a voice, you know?

"Wanna know something funny? I'm what you'd call a journalist as well"

"What?!" you shout a bit too loud, perhaps because of ease or perhaps of laugh at the timing of it all.

"Yeah! Are you from San Francisco?" he asks.

"No" you answer, confused as to where it leads. "Moved in for college"

"That explains it" he grabs the items he's just payed for, handing them back to you. "You know, I'm sort of famous around here. Ever heard of Cletus Cassidy?"

"Cactus what-?"

"Oh, Eddie" she laughs, mockingly. "Y/n here is as pretty and young as she looks. Of course she doesn't know who you are!" she snickers.

"Nevermind" he says ashamed. "Jesus, you sound more like a hater than a friend"

"It's all right!" you chime in, nervously. You're afraid you've fucked it up. "I can investigate you- oh, that sounded bad. Investigate your career, um. You know what I mean! It's kind of what I do, after all. Part, at least, of what I do"

"It's alright, doll" you could get used to this. A gravely rich voice calling you such. "No need to be nervous"

He looks thoughtful for a moment, and you start to fear your yapping or in general, the strange appeal or whatever magical reason he was interested in you, has vanished. As soon as he gets out of the store with you, fear creeps in. Is it all over? Was this a brief glimpse of what dating life is like? A chance you'll probably never get again. But then, he says:

"Can I have your number?"

"Sure!" you sound kind of glad about it, "do I put it in your phone?"

Eddie hands it to you, smiling when he sees what you've saved yourself as:

Y/n 👻🍫

"There you go" you say as you exit, and Mrs. Chen keeps looking through the glass. You hastily dismiss her, but you know she'll soon gush to your mother about it. "Thanks for everything"

"No problem" he winks. Oh, the nerve of this guys. "See you around, y/n. Good luck on those finals!"

You have to shut your demons for a while. Meet-cute-at-the-convenience-store guy seems to be truthful about it!

You'll just have to see how long it lasts.

Flash forward: it's lasted! Now Eddie is your boyfriend. Four months dating and you feel in heaven!

Yes, a bit of your demons have come out here and there, but Brock's been there to kiss away every single one of them. Venom too! Ah, yes: the alien symbiote that lives inside of your lover. Even he has taken to your liking! Being honest, meeting him did scare you at first; kind of a mind-blowing confession to make on your 1 month anniversary, but you soon learned surprises are a common thing if you're dating the so-called Lethal Protector. You both share chocolate filled afternoons when he takes over Eddie (he hates sharing yet let's his pal have some fun with you), watching a movie or two with his silly little comments on the background, sharing his alien-like knowledge with you (whatever that means).

So yeah, it's been a few months and you couldn't be happier!

Today, Eddie's supposed to pick you up from college. He has done so the last couple of weeks, and if you've seen people whispering behind your back, you've been smart to ignore it.

But today as you walk to your usual spot where Eddie picks you up, you hear the comments of two of your classmates (you recognize) from a class you take:

"They haven't broken up yet?" the other one laughs.

"She must've used some kind of dark magic, because there is no way that guy is with her"

"Yeah" the first one agrees, "y/n's weird just like that"

They aren't being discreet, and you start to believe they're choosing to do so, because next thing you know, they're talking about your body.

You begin growing self-conscious of your appearance: a sweater and a skirt, something Eddie loves seeing on you (he says it's easier to do stuff) but you can't help and start to feel insecure about the skin of your bare legs. You tense, tighlty grabbing the exposed flesh between your fingers, the tissue doughty under your hands. You hate yourself more often than you love, and it's harder to remember the positive side when you hear your thoughts loud in the mouth of other people.

The sound of a roaring engine cuts through the cloud of negative thoughts.

"Y/n!" you love it when he calls your name, enjoying every second of it. But now you just want to get out of here.

"Hey" you get closer to him, hoping on the bike. It's a big distance between you and the two classmates, but you still hear them say:

"It looks like a strong bike" pause. You feel sick, "I hope it won't break"

Eddie feels your arms cage him a little stronger than usual. "Hey, is everything okay?"

You hide your face against his back. "Please, let's go"

"You aren't going to say goodbye to your friends?" he looks back at the girls waving in your direction.

"Let's go!" you plead, rougher. He then realizes the girl are waving at him and not you, a flirty wink his way proving it.

Oh. He gets it now.

"Don't worry, doll" he caresses your hand. "I got you"

Then he speeds, not before making sure he leaves the girls who were harrasing you inside a cloud of smoke that makes them cough. Eddie looks back to see if you're laughing, but your face remains against his back, and he can feel his shirt start to damp.

Shit.

When you arrive at his apartment, your pace is fast, rushing through the stairs and entering his place first.

"Doll?" he calls out, but you don't answer. All he hears is small sobs, and his heart breaks. He finds you lying on his bed, your face hidden against his pillows. "Look at me, y/n"

"Y-you don't get it" you hiccup.

"I think I do" he purses his thick lips, "those girls were jealous of you"

"Jealous of me? Sure" you let out a dry laugh. "If anything, I'm jealous of them!"

He scoots closer, a hand resting on your back. "And why would you be jealous of two girls like that?"

"Because they're pretty" you confess, voice small. "Their bodies are perfect; doesn't matter if they're ugly on the inside. People mostly care about the outside"

"I see what's hapenning" he forces you to look at him, and your puffy red eyes make his chest pang. He needs you to know how beautiful you are, no matter how much you try to deny it. "You think you're ugly"

"Eddie!" you whisper-shout, alarmed.

"Hey! I never said that was my opinion" he says, tone defensive and arms raising up. "That is yours. A wrong one, by the way"

You scoff. "Yeah? why?"

You know Eddie loves you, but after today, you need to hear it.

"Because I don't like ugly people" you laugh in disbelief, "it's true! I love you because you're beautiful, in and out"

"Bullshit" you challenge, tears welling up again. You may start to see the light, but your demons come back to haunt you in whispered dark thoughts.

"You want me to list all the reasons I love you?"

You sniff. "Are there any? I mean, why are you with me, Eddie?"

No. He absolutely won't let you speak about yourself like that.

He grabs your face gently, wiping some tears. "I love you because you're the smartest, funniest, driven, most caring woman I've met, inside the hottest body of all times!" he squishes your side, and you laugh because of the ticklish sensations. "Haven't I shown you so? How much I worship it in bed? You've got to be kidding me! I wouldn't know what else to do or say to convince you of just how perfect you are!"

"Eddie..." you whimper his name out, lunging forward and enveloping him on a hug. He brushes you hair, softly.

"Listen, y/n. I understand your feelings, but it's unfair how bad you see and treat yourself. You are beautiful, no matter what anyone else says, and that's the point: beauty starts from within. It doesn't matter how many times I tell you so, because if you don't believe in yourself, it's all in vain"

"I'm sorry" you hug him tightly, "I wish I liked me more; to see me how you see me. Thanks for having patience"

"No need to thank me for anything" he assures, kissing your temple. "I don't get tired of telling you how much I like your eyes, a delicious invitation to taste you. Or your peachy skin, rosy and soft in all the perfect places. Or your chocolate heart: warm and sweet. You're bascially a ticket to heaven"

"Thanks" you whisper again, much more calm. "I love you, Eddie"

"Well, I love you too, doll"

"I love you too!" It's Venom, who appears next to Eddie. "You're the prettiest human girl I've ever met!"

"If it makes you feel better, I can eat those sluts" he offers softly, and you pet him while laughing, although Eddie rolls his eyes. The nerve of this guy.

"Seriously? Read the room budy!"

[brittle-doughie]

Eyoooooo I Uhh, have a really long au that’s been kinda driving me insane to keep to myself lately but not only is it nowhere near done, I’m pretty sure it’s already way too long to reasonably fit into an ask so, I guess I’m asking if you’d like to read it? Idrk I just want someone to share this idea with so that I don’t lose it completely. It’s a variation of the beast ancients au but things go horribly wrong both really slowly and really quickly.

As payment for a nothing ask, I give you: a character study moment that has absolutely nothing to do with the au in question I just thought it was neat.

You were cornered.

Nowhere left to run.

The last gleam of hope dying as you stumbled your way in. All that greets you is red torchlit stonework.

‘Why the hell are there even dead ends in here?!’ You mutter, mostly to yourself, knowing full well there’s not much of a point in being quiet now. But your incredibly valid question must wait as your pursuer, and the one who broke off your leg has found you. Huddled in the corner, clutching a dagger and jam still leaking out of where your leg once was. He hums, an idea having piqued his interest. The loud clatter of his weapon falling against the floor startles you to attention. What you see, is quite strange indeed.

Burning Spice Cookie stands just a few feet away from you, arms outstretched as if waiting for a hug, and a colossally smug smile on his face. Stranger still, is what he says next.

“Come here, hit me, show me that fire in your eyes again, little cookie”

By far, the weirdest thing though, is that you listen to him.

Hobbling back to get a better angle, your remaining leg shudders and struggles to carry you any farther. The dagger in your hand the only thing still keeping you grounded, aware that what is happening is real. And Burning Spice simply waits, far more patiently then you ever expected him capable of. The hopelessness of the situation rattles you once again, and it spurs you forward, dagger flying through the air towards your assailant, and you along with it.

The dagger strikes true, piercing through dough with ease as jam leaks out of the wound you’ve caused, wetting your hands as you try to keep your vice grip on the dagger as your good leg has finally given out on you. Putting your whole weight on the comparatively tiny blade.

And he doesn’t even flinch

Burning Spice plucks you by the nape, holding you up in one hand as the other pulls out the dagger. Your hands fall down with it, barely having the strength to keep focus now.

“A well placed strike given your handicap. I think I’ll keep you all to myself.” He brings his hand up to cup your cheek, even after you flinch away, he remains ever gentle, ever patient. A part of you is pretty sure you’re hallucinating from jam loss at this point. That’s the only explanation for this-

“I wonder what that fire in your eyes will become. Will it be smothered-“ Burning Spice is stopped mid sentence as something cuts him just below his eye. He simply cannot help the fondness and pride he feels for you already. His grinning teeth on full display as if revelling in the wounds you’ve caused.

“Yes, I’ve already decided. You will be my favourite little spitfire.” Your head slumps, dagger clattering to the floor as your grievous wound finally catches up to you. And just as gently, Burning Spice carries you to your new home.

-ephemeralcryptid

Y/N Cookie will be a beautiful new addition to the Spice Swarm.

Golden Cheese was only holding them back, keeping them a constant in the tides of Change. Burning Spice can fix that….

And now? She can only watch as Burning Spice leaves with them deeper into his palace, their weak body in his arms.

She wanted to scream….

Run after them…

Demand he comes back to fight her….

Instead…

Between her dough cracking and coughing up strawberry jam…

She cries….

She cries for her precious treasure back….

A treasure that may not be hers anymore…..

[the-daydreaming-show]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 — “I am, I have been, and I was born hungry.”

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: An abandoned son makes a decision. The cared for son is taken away.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬): Bruce Wayne X ScarletWitch!Reader; Jason Todd x Batmom!ScarletWitch!Reader; Tim Drake x Batmom!ScarletWitch!Reader; Jason Todd x Tim Drake.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: kidnapping, mention of PTSD, weapons, threats (silent), drugs and forced drug use, death of Janet Drake, and mention of Jack Drake in the hospital, Jason is mansplaining, manipulating and manslaughter his way through this sequel.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: This took a while because I had a precise plan for this sequel, but writing this chapter, something possessed me and changed everything. So, now I'm not sure what's going to happen, it's all in destiny hands now on!!!

Thanks to our beta reader, the wonderful @igotmessymind for her work, as always, I appreciate you very much!!

Now, I would like to make a special mention of @andieperrie18, who made a playlist base on the Batmom Scarlet Witch.

And I need you to admire this masterpiece, because this playlist doesn't just include songs. NOO, It also has dialogue between Batmom and Bruce at the beginning, and it's just gold. Also go to check the other playlist in her channel, they have some good stuff. The small talks and slow dancing with Bruce Wayne is one of my favorites!!!

So, thank you very much to you @andieperrie18 for your love and the dedication it took to make this playlist. I don't have enough words to show my adoration and gratitude for this playlist. So everyone, please go give them love to the playlist while reading this chapter!!

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐔𝐬 / Prelude / Next Part

Jason knew he was not walking on good ground. He hadn't been since he was revived in the Lazarus Pit. He hadn't been when he had killed criminals to try to control Gotham's crime. Nor when he had to escape from Arkham Asylum after Batman had locked him there, under the excuse that it was best for him.

Lies. 

All were lies.

He knew it now more than ever as he looked at his wall.

Jason was sitting in an old chair facing the wall, where a variety of photos, newspaper clippings, maps, and notes were displayed. 

Seeing that wall told him that he was definitely slipping into a new territory of madness. 

But-he-couldn't-stop. It was like he was on a slide, and he couldn't dig his heels in to stop. A part of him didn't want to stop. 

Just as he hadn't wanted to soften the news of his return to Bruce, that part of Jason wanted revenge with every atom of his true self. And now it was pushing him towards that wall. 

Another part of him, though, didn't want to do this. It was the part that still made him want to put his hands in his mouth to eat his cuticles, like he had done as a child. That part wanted to approach you on the street, and calmly let you explain why you hadn't sought him out. So that he could move on somehow, in a way that would make you proud of how Jason had handled everything.

But you had abandoned him.

After Bruce found out he was alive, Jason had hoped that once he told you all of it, you'd show up at his door. Jason had been ready to listen to your logical arguments and leave the whole killing thing behind. 

¿Who cared about revenge and Gotham if there was a chance to get back with his mom? 

Not to Jason.

You didn't; you never showed up. 

And now the part that wanted revenge was screaming too loud for him to hear anything else.

So there he was, sitting in a chair, arms crossed, as he carefully admired the wall he had created.

There were pictures of you picking up Timothy Drake from school, taking him shopping, hugging him at galas, and chatting with him at fashion events. Events that you had probably only been invited to, but you had convinced the team to let you take someone else, the same way you did with Jason when he was young. You probably took him to eat at your favorite restaurant every Friday after school, like they did with him. You probably also turned off the light in his room every night after saying goodnight, like you did with Jason.

No shame; you had given everything that was Jason's to that boy. 

That's why you weren't looking for him when you found out he was alive. You had replaced him with that kid, the same way Bruce had, and you deserved the same kind of punishment.

You deserved his revenge. And you will receive it.

You were in your office, in your brand's office building, a few blocks from Wayne Tower, where your entire clothing brand has done most of its business since you married Bruce. The official and original store of your brand is still in Metropolis, where it all started, but you moved the main offices to Gotham when you got married. So all of your children spent time between Wayne Tower and your building.

Usually, that was where they ended up after school.

Tim was supposed to go there after school. Typically, you would go pick him up. But that day he was staying a few extra hours at school for his Debate Club, and he would walk with his friends to their houses and meet you before you left the office that afternoon. So you were surprised when, as you were evaluating some new designs, your phone lit up with your youngest son's phone number.

“Mom,” Tim’s voice immediately sounded on the other end of the phone when you answered. He sounded nervous.

“Tim, honey,” you said, looking up at the clock. “Did I forget to pick you up?”, and immediately, your mind goes into paranoia, convinced that Tim had asked you to go look for him, and that's why he was calling you, and you had forgotten.

“No, no. Mom, it's fine,” he assured you quickly. You could hear chatter in the background, like someone was encouraging him to talk. “Mom, do you know today is Friday, right?”

Obviously, you remembered that it was Friday. On Fridays, when Tim came home from school, the two of you would go out to dinner at your favorite restaurant as a traditional mother-son activity.

“Yes, I've noticed,” you said, closing the sketchbook to give the boy your full attention.

“And we always go to eat at Julián's on Fridays after school, without fail,” he continues explaining. You assumed he was going somewhere, so you murmured an affirmation. “Well, you saw Dylan, my chemistry classmate. He and others are going to eat at a pizzeria near the school, and they invited me. After eating, we are all going to go to his house to play video games. If you're okay with that, I would like to go. Or I'll just go eat and go back home early. I-” Tim was already in babbling territory; you could barely contain your laughter when you interrupted him.

“It's okay, Tim. I don’t mind a change of plans, darling,” you assured him, and you could see his shoulders relax even from your building. “I'll take advantage and visit your father's office; I'll ask him to accompany me on an impromptu date.”

“Okay, okay. Yes, that sounds good.” Tim was smiling as big as he could, while around him, his classmates were singing victory for the afternoon they had organized. “I'll let you know where we are and call you when it's time to come home. I love you.”

Before you could tell him that he didn't need to tell you exactly where to be and at what time, Tim hung up the call, too excited about the whole thing. To which you inevitably laughed, happy that Tim had an activity, say a boy his age, and that he was so excited about it. You had met Dylan a couple of times; he was a good kid, so you were sure everything would be fine.

Jason watched Tim walk with his friends all night.

After observing him for weeks, he realized that the chic lived based on a fairly consistent routine. One that repeated itself almost around the clock for some reason, but Jason suspected that it had to do with the post-traumatic stress the boy must have had after the Joker's attack on his biological parents the year before. The boy's mother was six meters underground, and his father was on medical care for life because of all this. Jason almost felt bad for him. Almost.

This also meant that you and Bruce were very aware of the boy's routine, so if Tim were to disappear for even a couple of hours, it would ruin your plan. So he chanced it, waiting for the ideal moment to feed his need for revenge.

So when the sixteen-year-old decided to leave school one afternoon in the company of a group of other kids his age, he was clearly not on his way to your office like he usually did.

Jason took the phone out of his pocket and gave the order to start.

The group of friends went into a hidden, but sufficiently crowded, pizzeria a few blocks from the house of the boy Dylan, to whom Tim seemed closest in the group.

Jason had quickly discovered that Tim was a smart kid. He was too smart for Jay to trick him or accidentally cause him to fall into a trap of some kind.

But he had also discovered that Tim was, like Bruce, an idiot for justice.

He had watched him risk his life more than necessary for civilians while he ran around as Robin, when Jason from afar could have found about five ways to save the civilians without getting in the way. Tim jumped in to save them with his own hands every time there was a lethal risk. It could be that the weight of not having helped his parents was still eating him alive too.

But one way or another, Jason would use that to his advantage.

Jason walked into the pizzeria, followed by five other men he knew Tim would recognize. It was because he had gotten them out of jail, especially because Robin had dragged them and put them there, with the aim of getting them to help him. The proposed men didn't know he was there for that reason; they were just doing their job for the money, unaware of the mental games Jason was playing with the teenager.

And Tim Drake understood what was going to happen the moment he saw Jason. She looked him in the eyes and smiled as she casually glanced at the table of the group of friends, who were still wearing their school uniforms.

“Timothy, little one,” Jason greeted casually, putting his hands in his pockets and watching as Tim's eyes went to the way that movement revealed the reflection of a gun on his hip. “I've been looking for you!!”

Jason knew exactly how Tim would react and looked at the situation. They had both been trained by the same man at the end of the day. They were a reflection of each other, and that is why it was a dangerous game. “Are you hungry, Timothy? Because I am starving.”

Jason wasn't talking about the pizzas, and Tim knew it quickly. But he couldn't do anything, not with Jason so armed and clearly accompanied. Both were surrounded by so many civilians, and Tim's friends. His new friends, who had been patient with him and had accepted him into his group, which he had been joining since they were children. But they still tried to integrate him and invited him to things, again and again, until that day he accepted for the first time in months.

The table had fallen silent at the extra situation, but Tim seemed to know the stranger who had sat down, so they didn't say anything. But Dylan, as kind and caring as he was, saw the way the color had drained from Tim's face. So he spoke.

“Don't worry, Dylan,” Jason told him, which took Dylan by surprise since he had never told the stager his name, and he got genuinely worried now. “He just needs something to drink; he's just dehydrated. Timmy works a lot and doesn’t take care of himself.”

While talking to Dylan, Tim watched as Jason grabbed his glass of soda that he had been drinking while they waited for the pizzas. Without anyone else noticing, Tim watched as Jason dropped a pill into the drink, which was probably intended to knock him out, or at least drug him enough to make it manageable for Jason.

All without anyone else noticing, just so he could see it and know what was going on. He was faced with the reality that he couldn't do anything, and he couldn't fight, not at such a potential price. He was trapped. 

It made Tim feel alarmingly alone, despite being surrounded by people.

“Here, drink something.” Jason handed him the glass, where the gas from the soda easily hid the bubbles that the pill made as it dissolved. “It will do you good.”

The two stood face-to-face for a moment as the older brother offered the glass, and Jason didn't need to make the threat for Tim to understand. 

Or Tim drank the soda and voluntarily sedated himself. Or he would get him out of there in a much more aggressive way. And some bullets could be lost in that situation, so Jason could make sure that his friends were the ones who received them.

Tim could see the decapitated bodies of Black Mask's lieutenants, found shortly after Red Hood appeared in Gotham, before Bruce discovered his identity.

So he grabbed the glass and brought it to his mouth. Tim gave Jason a last pleading look, to which the boy just smiled sweetly. And your youngest son just wanted to scream for you, but you didn't know Jason was alive, and you suspected that's exactly what Jason wanted.

He wouldn't put you in danger.

Bruce would handle everything; Tim trusted that.

Tim downed the glass of soda in four gulps and didn't remember anything else after that.

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana @myst3batz @otchae @d3m0n8ch1ld @marsenbie @mynameisnotlaura @andieperrie18 @totallynotme420 @igotmessymind @amarawayne @calsjack @kodzukenmaaa @mellowdiy @noah-uhhh-what @blarba-girl @dead-sane-stuff @huhuhhuhh @ashlynnmalfoy @kimmis-stuff @undecided-shipper @justafanficsreader @poppyalice2001 @holdyuhmuda @jiabae @mara-moon @avitute @lafrone

[arpicityandneed]

Omg I need more Loki x Thor x sister reader

But maybe in this one reader finds out that Loki is adopted and refuses to believe it and had an entire meltdown about it screaming she crying because she’s so sad he’s not her biological brother

(After re-reading your other one 73846 times I have made a theory that reader is the goddess of peace snd calm)

You don’t gotta write this btw

a/n: I may or may not have gotten carried away. enjoy and thanks for this ask!!

18+ f!reader. Dark content. Incest. Stepcest? Hurt/comfort. Implied Loki x Thor. Reader has a fit and hits Loki.

It was rare to be summoned home, especially after you were married off. Despite your brother's visiting you in your new home, despite the potion Loki gave you to give your husband dreams of a pleasurable wedding night so he'd leave you alone, you were unhappy being away from Asgard.

You missed the gardens you used to read in, you missed the glint of the sun on gold, and you missed being pampered by your brothers without having to hide.

So when you were summoned by your mother you wore your finest dress and practically ran up the castle steps, bursting into the great hall expecting to see Odin on the throne as usual.

Your smile faltered as you saw your mother standing beside the empty throne instead.

"Mother?" Your voice was small, noting the dark circles under your mothers eyes and the way her mouth was pinched with worry.

"The AllFather has fallen into the Odin Sleep. We need our family close at this time of strife, so you will be staying with us until the issue is... resolved."

You were going to respond when you heard raised voices coming closer. You frowned, Thor and Loki fought often but never with such coldness in their voices. They came through the doors without even noticing you at first.

"She has a right to know her brother-" Thor's booming voice was bordering on a growl, but Loki surprised you more.

"I'm not her brother!" He roared, and for once Thor fell silent.

"What?" The word was barely a whisper as it left your lips, looking between Thor and Loki's faces. Desperately searching for some sign that this was a sick joke.

"Oh mother didn't tell you?" Loki's bad habit was on full display, pushing people away the moment he needed them most. He smirked at you even as you saw the pain in his eyes. "I'm not your brother. I'm just another relic in Odin's collection. A frost giant's child he wanted to use as a pawn for his own gains." Loki spat, an ugly sneer on his handsome face.

"Mother, say it isn't true." You whirled around, your gaze growing blurry with tears as you begged your mother to right this horrible wrong.

"Your father loves you Loki, no matter who sired you. You are my son." Frigga spoke calmly, but her voice was full of pain. "Now, look after your sister. I must attend to the AllFather." Frigga left without looking back, her pain and worry evident in every line of her body.

"No." Your voice shook, and you swore you could hear the sound of your heart shattering into a million pieces.

"Sister," Thor started to reach for you but you pulled back.

"No. It can't be true!" Tears streamed down your cheeks as you looked to Loki accusingly. "You're lying."

Loki merely bowed mockingly before he started to shift before your eyes. His eyes became blood red and his skin was an icy blue, and you saw his true form for the first time. You knew if you touched him you'd be burned by the frigid cold emanating from his skin.

"Frost. Giant." Loki purred, and you lost it.

You flew at him in a rage, kicking and screaming and biting and scratching. "You're mine, take it back! You're mine!" Distantly you felt Thor trying to pull you off, and the cold of Loki's blue skin beneath your hands. But you were lost in your despair and grief, great sobs wracking your body as your anger suddenly drained out of you.

Thor held you as you fell to the floor, exhausted and hollow as you faced the reality of it.

Loki wasn't yours.

~

You locked yourself in your room for days. Thor would bring you food and try to cajole you to come see the gardens, have some tea, visit mother. But nothing appealed to you.

The world wasn't right, and it would never be right again. Food tasted like nothing, you couldn't sleep without nightmares of being abandoned and left out in the cold.

Loki hadn't come to see you once.

Looking back he hadn't even fought back, he'd merely stood there while you slapped him and clawed at him, hands behind his back and his eyes full of heartbreak.

Sometimes you'd hear yelling outside your door, and sometimes you even thought you'd heard Loki's voice. But every time you went to the door the hallway would be empty.

Until one night you woke with a scream of Loki's name on your lips. Another nightmare, faceless figures taking him away with nothing for you to do.

"I'm here." Loki murmured quietly. He was sitting on the edge of your bed like he'd always been there. You had no idea how long he'd watched you sleep.

"Are you?" You asked bitterly, hugging your knees to your chest.

"Y/n..."

"You won't even call me sister now, and you expect me to answer?" You glared at him. "You should leave, I'm not allowed to have strange men in my room." You knew you were being petty, but every bit of distance he put between you hurt more than you could bear.

"Look. I can't go back and change things, alright?" Loki sighed, running a hand through his raven hair. His voice dropped and you could hear his sincerity. "But if I could I'd be your brother in every other lifetime."

"And this lifetime? What about us now?" You asked quietly, painfully aware that you were only dressed in a sheet and the object of your obsession was only an arms reach away.

"You'd truly still want me, even knowing I'm a monster?" His voice broke on the last word and he turned away from you. Understanding dawned and you crawled over to him, settling your naked form in his lap and cupping his cheeks in your small hands.

"You're my brother in every way that counts. And you are not a monster. You have protected me, taught me everything I know about magic, and loved me better than any husband ever could. You and Thor are the only ones who have my heart. My body. My soul. I'm yours. Your sister." You were quiet but firm as you spoke, and eventually you felt him put his arms around you.

"If we have a child, you won't be able to pass it off as a full blooded Asgardian. Your husband will know." Loki reasoned, and you opened your mouth to answer before Thor spoke. You and Loki had been to caught up in each other to notice as he came to check on you after hearing you cry out.

"Then we get rid of her husband." Thor said as if it were the obvious solution, coming to sit on the bed beside Loki. He punched his brother's arm firmly before muttering. "I told you she'd forgive you if you just talked to her."

You cuddled into Loki's chest as he held you, reaching out to take Thor's hand and shrugging casually even as you plotted your husbands assassination.

"My husband is starting to develop feelings for me, I'm sure he'll try to touch me soon anyway." You mumbled and Thor growled.

"Maybe my potions are a bit too well made." Loki chuckled before he groaned, your mouth latching onto his neck as your desire to be closer to him took over.

"You still have to atone, brother." You murmured against his ear just to feel him shiver, grinding your cunt down onto his lap as you nipped at his earlobe. "You were mean to me. Made me cry."

"She's right Loki, you know better than to be mean to our baby." Thor was angry, possessive, and more than a little desperate to make sure Loki knew who he belonged to. "And as the oldest, I think it's only fair that I decide what your punishment is."

Loki looked between the two of you with a faint smirk on his lips.

"I submit to my punishment then."

~

A few months after the announcement of your pregnancy, your husband had a hunting accident. The AllFather awoke from his deep slumber to find his daughter queen of a foreign land just as he intended. He allowed you to come home as soon as you decreed to your subjects that you would be joining with Asgard as one nation, his desire for power and more land fully satisfied.

You spent the remainder of your pregnancy under your brother's careful watch. You never lifted anything heavier than your silverware when you ate, and even then it was a rarity. No, you were more often found in one of their laps as they hand fed you.

And when the time finally came, your son was born with night black hair and eyes that switched between deep blue and bright red depending on his mood.

[marthawrites]

A Not So Hidden Secret

Modern Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 2.6k+

About: Rhaenyra discovers something in the bedroom that you, admittedly, forgot about, but didn't want her to know about!

Includes: This is mostly porn with some general plot to set things up. So, SMUT. Featuring established relationship, soft dom Rhae vibes, praise, sex toys (nipple clamps and vibrators) pushing reader out of her comfort zone, minor pain play, reader receiving oral sex, overstimulation, after care, fluff

Note: Hello lovely reader! Rhaenyra's age isn't specified in this fic, so you can read it with either "younger" (milly alcock) or "older" (emma d'arcy) Rhaenyra. I wrote it with older Rhae in mind, but how you read it is up to you! Reader is non-descript. As always, please enjoy!

-

“When were you going to tell me about these, sweetling?” Rhaenyra asked as she came out of your shared bedroom and sat on the couch with you. Casually, she pulled your foot into her lap so she could idly trace over the lower portion of your leg. She held something in her hand and if you could see her you’d see a sly little grin on her face. 

Her soft voice–filled with amusement–barely registered as you read your book. Turning the page, you didn’t bother to stop as you asked, “hm?”

She’d sat down on the opposite end of the couch where you laid to read, and you felt the cushions dip as she shifted over you. Straddling your hips, she pushed the book down so your attention was on her and not whatever silly who-done-it you were currently reading. “I said, when were you going to tell me about these?” She held up a small clear plastic bag and realization hit you.

Oh hell–the nipple clamps!

“Where did you find those!?” You half-squeaked, face hot with embarrassment–and maybe a teeny bit of guilt for not telling her.

Rhaenyra’s eyes danced with curious humor. “They weren't hidden. I went to wear some of your fluffy socks I like and they were right on top of your dresser.”

It's true. They weren't hidden. 

Yours and Rhaenyra’s relationship had been going strong for nearly two years now, and when she invited you to move in you practically screamed with joy. She was an absolute delight and treated you so well–and you, her! She lived in a beautiful townhouse in upscale King’s Landing that Viserys likely pulled a couple stings to make happen. But, Rhaenyra had always been his favorite child and there wasn't anything he'd skimp on for her. You’d been living together for almost six months. You didn’t hide anything from her–you had no reason to–and she didn’t hide anything from you. But these damn nipple clamps?

You looked between her eyes as tension coiled in your belly. Heat still lingered in your cheeks and you hoped she couldn’t see it. Biting your lip sheepishly, you said, “I can explain!”

She smirked. She had a dimple in her cheek and it was on full display. “Something I’m quite eager to hear about.”

You ran a hand down your face covering the giggle her words elicited from you. “Okay okay, so…,” you started, looking up at her as demurely as you could. “Remember when I bought that toy a month or so back?”

“Mm-hm,” she answered, dimple deepening.

“Well when I checked out apparently I spent enough to earn a ‘free gift’ if I wanted. So, I thought, what the heck! and clicked yes. I was hoping for maybe a tiny vibe or something, ya know? One of those cute ones that looks like lipstick or something,” you giggled again, blushing deeper. You shouldn’t feel embarrassed talking to your girlfriend about this sort of thing–you both loved toys!–but sometimes you did feel a wave of embarrassment talking about them outside of the bedroom.

Rhaenyra hummed in acknowledgment. “I see,” she said. “And when you opened your box and saw these… did you try them on?” Her voice was lower, now, a feminine husk that tickled along your senses in the most wicked ways. Amusement still glinted in her eyes, too, and made them all the more lovely. 

You shook your head, exclaiming, “no! They freaked me out a little, honestly!” You wish you would have thrown the stupid things away. Or at least hid them! Tension shuddered up and down your spine. Warmth began to slowly spread outward from your center, and you were glad you weren’t straddling her. If you were, she'd know exactly what she was doing to you. Being beneath her gaze like this shouldn't affect you in such a way, but… it did. “I haven’t even opened them!”

She laughed. Lowering, she kissed you and purred, “and here I thought I ruined a surprise you had for me.”

With her lips on yours any teasing retort you might have said flew out the window. The initial playfulness of her kiss shifted to something deeper, hungrier. Breaking away from it, you pouted, “sorry for disappointing you,” with a tiny grin of your own.

One of her hands pushed up beneath the front of your shirt, causing the material to bunch the higher she went. She felt your ribs hitch and she hummed against your mouth, delighted. Going higher still, she palmed over the swell of your sports bra covered breast and that hum turned into an appreciative moan. “I know a way to make it up to me,” she suggested, fingers splaying wide as she brushed over the fullness of your breasts.

Your breath started to come quicker and the liquid warmth between your thighs grew needier. “Oh yeah?” You asked, spine arching up into her touch. Your own hands pushed up the tops of her thighs until your fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her biker shorts and snapped it teasingly against her waist.

“Yeah. You can try them on now. For me. You’ll let me clamp those pretty nipples, won’t you?” Her voice might have tilted slightly with the question, but there was no question about it.

Yes, yes, yes.

Biting your lip, you nodded as you looked up at her. “Okay, yeah. Let’s do it.”

The expression she gave you was purely feline. Rolling off you, she offered you her hand. “In our room,” she said, tilting her head in its direction.

A trail of strewn clothes littered the space between the living room and bedroom, and Rhaenyra didn’t even bother to close the curtains as she stepped right between your legs when you sat on the edge of the bed. The townhouse was two-stories high and with the position of the window, as well as the arrangement of your room, there was an extremely low chance of anyone seeing anything. She looked down at you and traced the back of her hand over your jaw before sliding her thumb over your mouth. “Those eyes are so pretty looking up at me like this,” she cooed. “My perfect girl.”

Shivers filled your body at her praise. “Nyra…,” you whined, blushing yet again, doing your best to not turn your face away from her in flustered embarrassment.

“My sweet girl still feeling shy about her little secret?” Rhaenyra asked as she opened the plastic bag, pulling the chained clamps out. It clanked softly in the quiet room. “Ooh, these can get really tight,” she said as she showed you the pinch of the clamp. “Let’s loosen those a bit, yeah?” She asked amusedly as she twisted the screw looser on each. 

The tips were covered in a brightly colored smooth rubber, and you assumed it was for the comfort of the wearer. Anticipation fizzed in your belly as you watched Rhae. She only wore her underwear, as did you, and it somehow made the setting all the more intimate.

“There,” she breathed, testing the tightness on the tip of her pinky. “Ready?

Gulping–and unintentionally squirming–you nodded. “I am.” Still sitting, you leaned back on your hands and the position allowed you to easily arch your spine as you offered your breasts to her. You watched as she clipped one on. You gasped. Once she clipped the second on you gasped sharper. 

Leaning down, Rhaenyra kissed you softly. “Good girl,” she whispered against your lips. “How do they feel?”

You looked down the front of your chest, and Rhaenyra took the moment to inspect her work, too; electricity charged the bedroom’s air. Your nipples were pinched tight and the very tips of them buzzed. “Feels weird,” you giggled, still trying to wrap your head around the strange sensation. “It doesn’t hurt-hurt but it sort of hurts.” You realized how silly it sounded as soon as you said it. “Think they’ll fall off?” You asked, shimmying your shoulders in a way that sent your tits swaying just slightly. The little chain rattled and somehow that made you feel all the more dirty about it.

“Fuck,” she hissed beneath her breath, watching. “God, you have the sexiest tits. Can’t believe you let me clamp them. You are the loveliest gem,” she said before she was on your mouth again. The kiss was immediately hot and heavy, desperate in a way that made you sink your fingers into her half-messy updo, stray little curls framing her face. With a soft moan she pushed you back, careful to not disturb the clamps or chain too much. 

Laying on your back, you wrapped your legs around Rhaenyra’s waist and kissed her with fervor. “Think I want them off now,” you admitted, really starting to feel the pain of them.

She hushed you. “Shh, no, not yet, sweetling. You’re doing very well. They hurt?” 

You nodded, looking up into her desire glazed eyes with your softened doe eyes.

“Let me show you how sweet the pain can make the pleasure,” she said, expression turning sweetly wicked. Without giving you any time to ask questions or protest, she slid down the front of your body until she laid between your thighs. In a single sweeping movement she tugged your panties off; those things didn’t stand a chance. She groaned as she saw how wet you were, how ready your body was, how responsive you’ve been to this new experiment. “Fucking hell, love,” she rasped. “You could take my strap right now without any prep. You are so fucking wet.”

A hazy fog already began to settle in your brain. Anticipation, emotions, and sensations sent your hips squirming in need. You made a little sound in response to her words, but no actual words came out of your mouth. She hadn’t even started on you yet and already she rendered you to an unintelligible mess. 

Her arms wrapped around your thighs and positioned you just how she wanted, and she instantly dragged her tongue up the fullness of your center. She lapped full lazy licks up your slit, catching and kissing your clit at the top of each stroke, before doing it all over again.

And again.

Your hands flew down to her hands squeezing into your thighs, and you squeezed atop them as she devoured your pussy. Too much. It was already too much. How was it already too much? “Oh my god..!” You breathed, gasping, a tight coil of pleasure already threatening to snap in those low muscles of your belly. “H-holy fucking shit…!”

Rhaenerya planned to murder you. Truly.

She moaned into you and didn’t stop. She gently drew your swollen clit into her mouth and slid her tongue over it, feeling your thighs begin to shudder around her. She alternated between licking and sucking–even kissing the bud when she thought you needed to catch a full breath–until your hands were in her hair.

“God! N-Nyra..! I’m gonna co-,” and before you could finish whimpering out those final words, she shattered you. Orgasm rolled over you in warm waves of bliss. Still, she never stopped, and you rode it out until it threatened to crest into a second peak and become painful. 

It was then, and only then, that she stopped and looked up at you, panting almost as much as you were. “You taste so fucking good. Stay right here, I’m not done with you yet.” She slipped off the bed and walked over to your dresser, going right for the drawer you kept all your toys. Picking out a vibrator she knew you loved–its width and shape always making quick work of you–she smiled like a succubus. Crawling back between your legs, she once again didn’t give you time to protest before turning it on. “Don’t even think about taking those clamps off.”

You opened your mouth to say something in retort but the second you did you felt–and saw–Rhaenrya begin to push that big vibrator into your clenching, soaked, needy fucking pussy. Your eyes rolled closed when she seated it fully inside you. Tension instantly returned to your core and you barely covered your mouth in time to muffle an overstimulated cry. The muscles of your abdomen flexed and tightened, hips stuttering, as bliss threatened to push you over the edge. 

God you fucking loved this thing. 

“If only you could see yourself right now,” Rhaenrya cooed as she watched you from below, able to see not only your saturated cunt as she pumped the toy in and out of you, but also see up your belly to your breasts, and your blissed out face above those. “You are so lovely. So perfect. So fucking sexy and dirty.”

“P-please! Too much. Too much,” you gasped, still shuddering and clenching on your vibrator.

She smirked like the devil himself as she leaned forward and began to lavish your clit with her tongue and lips once again. She held the vibrator inside you, keeping it in place and not letting it squeeze out from your clenching depths. Nor did she pump it in and out of you. She simply kept it there. Deep. Buzzing away inside your perfect walls on one of its highest settings. She let all those inner muscles do the work as she ate your clit.

If you thought the first (or was it two?) orgasm was too much, this one really was. A strangled cry left your throat as blinding pleasure pulsed through every single nerve-ending in your body. Molten lava consumed you. You were weightless. Formless. Your hips spasmed beneath her and you thought you might actually pass out.

Carefully, with one final kiss to your clit, she pulled the toy out from your overstimulated center. She turned it off and dropped it on the bed. She moved to lay beside you, kissing your cheek. With a much softer expression, she asked, “you okay?”

You hadn’t realized the intensity of your last orgasm caused more than physical release to flood you. Tears had gathered in your eyes and slid down your temples. It’s not that you were sad–not at all–but the sensation had been that intense. You couldn’t remember the last time this happened! The tears were short lived and as soon as you wiped them away, no more came. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered softly, voice thicker and more horse than you expected. “Holy shit. I’m more than okay,” you laughed, honestly dumbfounded at how your body could still be weightless and tingling. “I’m honestly fucking amazing right now.”

“Good,” she answered with a little giggle of her own. “I’m going to take the clamps off now, okay?”

You nodded, slowly coming back into yourself.

Once your nipples were free of the clamps, she tenderly kissed each one. “You did so, so very well. I’m beyond proud of you my sweet, perfect, lovely girl,” she said as she nuzzled soft kisses at the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your neck.

You tickled her face with kisses too, soaking in all of her sweet lovey words. “Pretty sure my soul is still coming back to my body, but, once it does I am so tackling the fuck outta you,” you proclaimed fiercely, wanting to give her even a fraction of what she had given you.

That got a laugh out of her. “Take your time, sweetling,” she winked. “I’m half starved. I’ll go order us dinner and be back in for said tackling. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed as you watched her walk out of the bedroom in only her panties, searching for her phone to call something in from one of your favorite restaurants.

By the time you were done giving thanks to your girlfriend for all the pleasure she gave you, dinner was cold on the front porch. But, even with that, it was still one of the best damn meals you'd had lately.

After dinner, you found your book on the couch again, and Rhaenyra flicked on the latest show she'd been binging–both of you sharing one really big, really soft, blanket.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @aemondtarqaryens @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @schniiipsel

[ozzgin]

wtf HOW WAS ROMULUS OZZIE Hello??????? I CANT WAIT TO WATCH ITRTR i miss david 8 tho 😓😓 “you finger and i blow” ok gorgeous whatever you say

Ok ok, I let it sit overnight so I could formulate a less feral opinion. I'll do my best to be objective, though you should keep in mind that I'm very biased when it comes to the Alien franchise.

Alien: Romulus First Impressions

Plot. The movie takes place between Alien (1979) and Aliens (1986). If you've seen the old Alien movies, you will notice it follows the same formula: somewhat slow beginning, a grand reveal, a lot of high-stake escape attempts, shady android behavior, and the classic, speedy succession of plot twists where you think you're safe, only to be surprised the very next moment.

While this movie is meant to behave more like the pre-2000 releases, it does bring some novel elements, which, in my opinion, helped build its own authenticity. Additionally - and without spoiling you - it will involve its own Xenomorph variation. Fantastic idea, and I cannot believe it hasn't been done earlier.

The cast is a group of orphaned youngsters who want to escape their space mining colony. You're introduced to a dystopian, grimy world of overworked humans who've never seen the light of the sun. The main character, Rain, is accompanied by her "brother", Andy, an android programmed to take care of her after the death of her parents. Here's another aspect I enjoyed: an anxious, imperfect android who seems to display an emotional bond with his human.

Rain's friends discover a shipwreck which may contain enough sleeping pods to take them away from these unbearable conditions. Their plan is to sneak in, take the pods, and speed away to a more humane station while in cryosleep. The twist? It's not just any regular ship. They have stepped into the Romulus and Remus research station, operated by Weyland-Yutani, and haunted by yet another failed attempt to contain the Xenomorph horrors.

Characters. Let me tell you, this was a breath of fresh air. Prometheus and Covenant have left me rather skeptical when it comes to a competent cast, yet from the ashes of pathetic military personnel rose a bunch of kids who are built for survival. Rain reminded me so much of Ripley - extremely intelligent, efficient, and strong. Her friends are equally brave in the face of disaster. This was a 10/10 cast, and I'm so glad they finally found the balance between being terrified and still navigating the situation without catastrophic mistakes.

Visuals. The imagery was an absolute treat. They seamlessly combined modern special effects with throwback, retro detailing. The futuristic equipment and locations reminded me a lot of Alien: Isolation. Upon further research, it seems that the director was indeed inspired by the game! It made everything so nostalgic and immersive. The Xenomorph design was flawless as usual, involving a lot of body horror.

Audio. I am desperately waiting for the album to be released on Spotify, because the soundtracks were amazing. The music was composed by Benjamin Wallfisch, who seems to have rather big movie titles under his belt, such as It, and It: Chapter Two. Safe to say this man knows how to instil terror in you. They made sure to incorporate some of the classic pieces, then expanded on that. The alert beats reminded me of Covenant, while other tracks provided their own take on the story. The intro of the movie is aided by dissonant chanting in the background, hinting at the ancient, religious imagery used for the Xenomorphs.

Conclusion. Overall, I'd say this is a must-watch for any Alien fan. It is a tribute to the classic movies, but it still offers a brand-new take to the Alien Universe. The movie had some moments of complete silence - staying true to the "In space, no one can hear you scream" quote - and everyone in the cinema held their breaths. It will keep you on your toes.

[waayoutofline]

When The Cat and The Mouse Go For a Midnight Dance (part 2)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Prompt: Vigilante!Reader x Agent!Natahsa.

Summary: Natasha finds you. Again. If you didn’t know better, you'd say she was obsessed with you. Still, you have a job to do. Will you two ever see eyes to eye?

Warnings: A bit of violence and foul language. Sexual connotations but not smut.

WORD COUNT: 2832

AN: I published it a couple weeks ago (I think?) but I couldn't put it on the master list and it was getting on my nerve soo.— Anyways, this is a part two but I dont know if I'll make a series. More like little stories here and there. Enjoy :)

The air was sharp, puncturing your lungs every time you dared to take a breath. For a second, you regret abandoning the warmth of your flat. But a job is a job, and besides, true evil never fully rests. Not your kind of evil, but the more corrupt, shameless kind. A thud was the only sound that could be heard on the terrace of none other than Wallace Ashford on a rainy night—one of the worst chief prosecutors this city could hope to have. You had your eye on him for a while now, and everything pointed to his involvement in all types of negligence concerning the underground criminal organization. Hundreds, or even thousands, of people were endangered because of his vanity.

You usually weren’t one to go after dirty politicians, but every now and then, an exception appeared. Unfortunately for Ashford, he was one. After months of tracking him, you found out that he had finally returned to the estate after a “vacation,” where only the high deities know what he was up to. He was well-guarded by a team of professionals, but that wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle after a cup or two of wine. He did, however, make you climb all the way to one of his penthouses to avoid his security systems.

Carefully, you took out the small interrupter in your pocket to check for hidden cameras or security systems. “A paranoid man, aren’t you?”

Managing to deactivate them momentarily, you pull yourself up to the banister. A soft grunt escaped you as your feet touched the ground, joints stiff from the cold and rain. Let’s just get this over with.

You made your way into the apartment—if you could even call it that. You’d seen mall floors smaller than this. High ceilings and marble floors greeted you, along with open rooms that displayed nothing but a lack of attachment, painted in neutral tones and lit by intricate chandeliers. There were no family photos or personal decor. If it weren’t for the well-maintained furniture, it would seem as though no one lived here. Despite having a wife and two unfortunate children, there was no sign of family life. Not that it could thrive here, given the fact that Wallace was nothing but a distant and neglectful husband and father, spending his days in his office, making deals with the devil and indulging in adulterous escapades.

Sighing, you finally reached what you knew to be his office, spotting his heat signature through your special lenses. Grabbing the silenced pistol holstered at your side, you carefully opened the wooden doors. A resounding click echoed through the apartment as the door opened two inches—until something screamed at your nerves. Goosebumps rose on your neck, your muscles coming to a sudden, rigid stop. After a brief moment of absolute silence, a grin spread across your face.

“Are you stalking me, Agent Romanoff?”

From the shadows, a familiar figure seemed to seep out of the darkness, revealing none other than Natasha Romanoff. She wore a tactical suit and her usual annoyed scowl, which always seemed to deepen in your presence. Her features were slightly obscured in the dim hallway light.

“Don’t flatter yourself. Do you ever take a break?” Slowly, you stepped away from the door, and she moved perfectly in sync, keeping your movements in check. Returning your gun to its holster, you smiled.

“How could I? If I did, I wouldn’t get to enjoy these lovely chats with you.” Her scowl deepened, her patience visibly fading from her green eyes. “How’d you find me this time?”

“I’m not here to answer your questions.”

A sigh escaped you. To Natasha, it sounded like that of a petulant child. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re here to detain me, blah, blah, blah…” Huffing, you crossed your arms. “I, however, have a job that needs attention. So, can we do this later?”

A shocked scoff escaped her. “You must be more insane than I gave you credit for. I’m not letting you murder that man.”

”Why not?” You whined. “If anything, I'm doing you a favor. Believe me, Wallace Ashford isn’t the type of man that you want to protect.” The atmosphere seemed to shift with your last world, and by Natasha's sudden defensive stance she noticed too. As much as you two seemed to have this unserious conversation, she knew perfectly of what you were capable of.

“That doesn’t give you the right to kill him.” She answers back.

Annoyance starts to bubble within you, the playfulness of meeting the The redhead’s patience was slowly fading away. “Well, someone has to get their hands dirty.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, her body tense, bracing for the inevitable. Still, you noticed the slight hesitation in her fingertips as she reached for her gun. She stepped closer, but you didn’t move. “That’s not your call to make.”

You released a frustrated breath. “And whose is it, hm?” you taunted darkly. “I know you’ve researched him. You have to know what kind of man he is—the things he’s done and that will continue to do. People like him are the reason we get hurt, and yet you’ll continue to let him. But I’m the one who needs to be taken down?”

Natasha seemed to weigh your words carefully, taking them in. It was one of the things you secretly admired about her—the way she processed everything before rendering judgment. Something, however, told you her decision wouldn’t be in your favor. “The system isn’t perfect; it has its flaws. But killing him won’t solve anything. It won’t bring justice or comfort to the people he’s hurt. If you stand down, I promise I’ll make sure he faces the consequences he deserves.”

She stepped even closer, as though trying to soothe a rabid beast. But you weren’t one. No, your mind was cold and sharp, fully aware of what needed to be done. A soft sigh escaped your lips. “Oh, Natasha…”

You paused, standing directly in front of her, mere inches away. Her scent was clean, tinged with traces of rain and gunpowder. Her eyes dropped slightly, as though they were trying to pierce your soul. Tilting your head up defiantly, your eyes glinted under the dim light. You sighed, trailing your index finger along her jaw. Surprisingly, she let it happen, as if lost in thought.

“I never pegged you for being this naive. The system isn’t just flawed—it’s useless,” you snarled, and just like that, the aggression surged back, like an oncoming storm. “No, this corruption needs to be cut out at the root. Good thing I have a very sharp blade.”

And with that, all hell broke loose.

You fished a hidden knife from your side, expertly flipping it around to grip the handle before slashing outward. But as if expecting your every move, Natasha caught your wrist midair, using the momentum to twist your arm painfully behind your back in one swift motion. For a second, you were pinned, her breath hot against the back of your neck. But this was far from over. You brought your head down, then snapped it back with force, cracking into her face. The impact reverberated through you, and she grunted in pain, her grip loosening just enough.

You dropped low, crouching for a second before sweeping your leg around in a wide arc, sending her tumbling to the floor. Victory however only lasted a brief second before, with surprising agility, she grabbed your ankle and yanked hard, pulling you down with her. The two of you rolled across the cold marble floor, grappling for dominance, hands slipping, muscles straining. Finally, you managed to pin her, practically sitting on top of her, your hands pressing against her shoulders as you clumsily lost your balance. You could feel the rise and fall of her breath beneath you, her body tense.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you looked down at her and huffed. Of course, her damn braid stayed perfectly in place, not a strand out of order. Her eyes flickered, a shade darker now—more gray than green. Anger, you realized. A dangerous, calm fury radiated from her. Natasha Romanoff never loses her composure, a lesson you learned on the very first day of this endless game between the two of you. Blood trickled down from her now slightly crooked nose, and you couldn’t resist commenting.

“Hm. Red really does suit you,” you teased, a dark smile curling at the corners of your mouth. Her eyes narrowed.

“Do you ever shut up?” she grunted, before her legs shot up, twisting with surprising force to reverse your positions. Now, she had the advantage, her frame pinning your wrists to the floor. “You’re starting to get on my nerves.”

A breath caught in your throat as you processed what just happened. You weren’t exactly proud to admit this, but something about an enraged, furious Agent Natasha Romanoff straddling you, snarling, did something to you. Heat surged through your skin, a blush rising from your collarbone to the tips of your ears. It was ridiculous, you thought. She was literally trying to kill you.

As if reminded of the danger you were in, you tried to regain control—both mentally and physically. Concentrating, you focused on the faint stirrings of the elements around you. A slow smile curled across your lips as you found what you were looking for. “Not really,” you said, your voice thick with amusement, “but I know you secretly enjoy it.”

Natasha’s eyes flashed with a mixture of disbelief and fury, her expression hardening as she leaned closer, her voice a low growl. “Why can’t you ever just admit defeat?” Her hand pressed harder on your wrist, pinning you even more firmly to the cold floor beneath her.

You winced slightly but couldn’t resist pushing her buttons one last time. “Big talk for someone who’s about to get very, very wet.”

She frowned, clearly thrown by the comment. “What are you—” But before she could finish, you glanced upwards. She followed your gaze, and you grinned. With a faint hiss and the creaking of pipes, the sprinkler system above finally responded to your command. A perfectly controlled jet of water blasted down, drenching Natasha straight in the face.

Her reaction was immediate. “Ugh!” she sputtered, hands instinctively flying up to shield her eyes as the water poured over her, soaking her tactical suit and sending droplets flying in every direction. You seized the moment, using her split-second distraction to twist out from under her grip. With a swift movement, you rolled to your feet, slicking your hair back as you stood, watching her attempt to recover.

“Really? Using your powers now?” she grunted, trying to wipe enough water from her face to clear her vision.

“Well, it wouldn’t be fair for only you to stay dry.” You winked, hands fidgeting behind your back.

Natasha finally cleared her eyes enough to glare at you, her expression a mix of frustration and grudging resignation. “You always have to make a mess, don’t you?” she muttered, straightening up, though her tactical suit was now drenched.

“I mean, it is kind of my thing,” you said, taking a step back, turning your focus back to the reason you were here in the first place.

“Just give it up, will you? He’s no longer in the building.”

You froze mid-step, your hand just inches from the door. There were no signs of Wallace. Natasha, regaining her footing, stood tall. “He’s been evacuated while we had this sorry excuse for a fight. It’s over. You failed.”

Only the last drops of water falling from the ceiling could be heard. You stood there, unmoving. Slightly out of character for her usual calm demeanor, Natasha started to approach you. But then, a sudden, silent laugh escaped your lips, sending chills down her spine—more chilling than the cold water still pooling at your feet.

“Oh, Natasha.” You glanced over your shoulder at her, eyes gleaming with dark amusement. “Do you think I’m a fool?” A sinister smirk parted your lips. “I knew you’d pull one of these stunts because, whether you like it or not, I know you.”

You turned fully, a deadly glint in your eyes. “I also sent a friend of mine to lend a hand.”

Your hands moved behind you, reaching for the vials strapped to your back. “You’re familiar with them, actually.” You walked slowly toward her, holding up the vials so she could see them clearly. Natasha’s eyes widened in recognition. One vial contained a sleek black widow spider, its abdomen adorned with the same red emblem as her suit. The other vial was empty.

“Huh, funny. By sending him away, you didn’t just send him to his death—you might’ve put the whole extraction team in danger. What’s to stop me from giving the chemical signal for my little friend here to bite your companions?” You paused, letting the weight of your words settle in with a crazed smile. “Oh right—nothing! By now, he’s already dead, and your team’s not far behind.”

Natasha’s face paled as she reached for her intercom to contact the agents tasked with retrieving Wallace. Static greeted her. No answer.

Her blood ran cold, but she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “No,” she whispered, her voice resolute. “If there’s anything stable about you, it’s that you don’t harm innocent people.” Her confidence in her own words was surprising. On some level, she understood you. And, for once, she was right. You were a killer, but not a mindless one.

You let out a sigh. “Hmm, you’re right about that. I don’t.” With that, you pulled out another vial, this one containing a light pink liquid. “Here’s the antidote.” Before she had a chance to grab it, you pulled it back, smirking as you held it just out of her reach. This left her stepping closer, the space between you almost nonexistent. Baby hairs stuck around her face, but she still managed to look hauntingly beautiful.

“I should advise you, though: no shenanigans. I assure you, if you try to use it on Ashford, his body will violently reject it. I made sure of that.” The conflict in her eyes was so clear you could practically hear the gears turning in her head. You could see all her possible outcomes, and she knew it too.

“Your friends or a chance to detain me? The ball’s in your court, Agent Romanoff. What’s it going to be?”

She stared you down, as if trying to see right through you. “How do I know you aren’t playing me?” she challenged. “For all I know, that spider of yours never got close to my team, and this is just a way for you to get away.”

“That’s for you to decide.”

Your eyes locked once again, engaging in a silent battle of wills. Natasha’s heart raced, the weight of lives at stake heavy on her conscience, and by the glint in your eyes, she knew you understood that. She cursed herself for being so transparent, as if you could read her like an open book. Finally, her shoulders tensed, then loosened.

Unexpectedly, she grabbed the neck of your suit, yanking you toward her. Sensing no real threat, you allowed it.

“You’re going to regret this little stunt,” she warned, her voice low and dangerous. Still, you stood your ground, feeling the adrenaline course through your veins, making your words drip like honey.

“Getting under your skin, am I?” you whispered, the teasing lilt in your voice unmistakable.

Her jaw clenched, and you could see the battle raging in her mind. A part of her—how big, you couldn’t tell—was torn between wrestling you into submission or doing what she was expected to: saving the team under her command. She leaned in closer, her lips hovering just above your ear. “If you think for one second I’m going to let you win, you’re more delusional than I ever thought.”

Her warning, as sharp and assertive as it was, sent a chill down your spine. The warmth of her breath against your skin only fueled the fire coursing through you.

“If you’re lying, and anything happens to them because of this… I’ll have no compassion — no understanding left. I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth.”

You tilted your head back just enough to meet her eyes, your gaze steady and unwavering. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Now go, be the hero you are, and save your friends,” you answered softly.

For a brief moment, the air crackled with tension. She hesitated for just a heartbeat, weighing her choices. With one last, piercing look, she leapt from the railing, disappearing into the darkness. Moments later, the hum of the Quinjet rising into the air echoed in the distance. With a deep, satisfied breath, you turned away from the balcony, knowing the game was far from over.

Would it ever be? You hoped not.

[viktoriaashleyyx]

Why do some of us not *hate* Tamlin?

I am pro-tamlin, not pro feylin. I would prefer Tamlin to never have to deal with the NC ever again. If SJM never types his name out again I will be happy.

Tw: light mentions to DV, SA, and Divorce.

Feyre is written in a way that makes it feel like she is intentionally manipulating us against Tamlin to justify her leaving him the way she did, and to put Rhysand up on a pedestal.

The abrupt and sloppy way SJM handled Tamlins' character assassination induced my fight or flight. Let me explain:

My parents divorced when I was 4, and I had to learn, quickly, how to interpret people's true intentions and empathize with where they are coming from vs just blindly listening to someones account of what happened. My father got custody of us and would use the same elements against my mom that Feyre uses against Tamlin. I HAVE to read between the lines or I would fall to the intentional manipulation.

"She left me so she probably cheated" "he trapped me in the house" "she has a new boyfriend so she doesn't care about you anymore" "he hit me [when I was actively TRYING to get him to hit me to sway public opinion of him]"

Everytime Feyre left for the NC, she did so kicking and screaming. Every indication Tamlin could see was that she did NOT want to go with Rhys, until he gets a letter from her saying to not come looking for her that she doesn't want to be with him. Tamlin didn't know she could read or write. Had that been my love I would assume it was a ransom note too, written by someone else. Had she actually spent 1 hr winnowing to Tamlin, tell him face to face, then winnow back (with an escort) he MIGHT have gotten the hint.

A tithe was a weird thing to use to show how cruel Tamlin is, considering how 2/3 of the night court live in constant fear, children's bones are broken for misbehaving, the CoN are trapped there. SJM really showed us that she has no political knowledge what so ever. I barely started ACOFAS and when Feyres talking about the unnatural sum of her money, my first thought is "You don't amass that level of wealth without oppressing someone." Lucien said that Tamlin would be expected to hunt down those not able to pay the tithe, but when we get to Tamlins actual actions he just said "get it together in 3 days or pay double next time". In my initial reading, I interpreted it as another mask (like how Rhysand acts). Tamlin does this due to tradition, he is expected to act a certain way, but *I felt* he had no intention of acting out what he said. It was just a line he was expected to say to send the wraith away without others expecting the same.

Feyre and Tamlin were not right for eachother because they were not eachothers mates. People can exist fine separately, and be incredibly toxic together. From page 1 we see Feyres inherent inability to empathize with anyone, she has it bad, she has to hunt, therefore her sisters don't do anything. But she also can't cook, so who was preparing the meat she brought home? It gave me "housework isn't real work" vibes. Feyre also doesn't communicate very well, which would explain why a literal mind reader was able to help her better than Tamlin was. I saw Tamlin trying but not being able to help her because he couldn't read her mind.

Feyre didn't want to be trapped in a manor for a few hours while she was displaying manic behavior, but she condoned her sisters be trapped in the HOW for 6 weeks immediately after losing their lives. She condones the treatment of the people in Hewn city and supports the literal Jim Crow laws placed against them in Velaris when all they wanted was to leave. She condones and supports trapping Nesta in HoW after the war just to force Cassain on her so Feyre can play matchmaker.

Feyre is an inherently self centered sociopath. She can read minds and still can't develop a shred of empathy.

Just leave Tamlin alone. Damn.

[alilobsessive]

Hi!! Crypted reader has been in my head for days could we please see more of them

But of course! Admittedly, I don’t have much of an idea for a plot. So have some Justice Leaguers meeting Reader!

Superman had actually first met Reader as Clark Kent long before the Justice League was even a blip in the eyes of the trinity. You were a small child back then, hyperactive to the point it was maddening to most people, with an active imagination to boot. The small child had been talking to him nonstop, spouting out whatever came from your tiny mind. There wasn’t anything strange about what you were saying, until suddenly you said “Hey check out what I can do!” And Bruce Wayne, who was standing right behind him with a small smile as he listened to he child’s rambling, face contorted into that of horror. “Please we talked about this” he practically bagged, Clark mentally prepared himself for a child to innocently do something inappropriate. But instead what he got was a little unsettling. Something, shifted in the kids eyes, then stance, the child was clearly human, just mimicked something that wasn’t. They were damn good at it too, the kid didn’t even make a sound as they got on all fours and dashed off. “Not again!” Bruce yelped, running after the child.

Diana on the other hand didn’t even know Reader was Bruce's child when they first met. She was giving a museum tour and Reader was in it, the 11 year old was strange. Not strange in the way typical strange kids are, strange in every bone in her body was screaming this kid wasn’t human. They didn’t seem to be a threat, they never appeared to be at first. She kept a close eye on the child, watching them slink around with the rest of the group, tilting their head at odd angles as they looked at the artifacts on display. Whatever they are, they're bad at pretending they're human. It wasn’t uncommon for supernatural creatures to take the forms of humans for whatever reason, the form of a young child was no exception. Even after the child left, having not revealed their true form Diana stood on high alert. Even when they didn’t come back to steal, she was on edge for weeks.

Zatanna met Reader briefly, it was simple, do a magic sensing test for Batman. Just a simple favor, she was expecting a villain that he couldn’t tell if was using magic or just highly skilled. It happened from time to time. But instead it was a child, his child, and ya she got it. Kid had the exact same crypted tendencies as their Father. Admittedly if she didn’t know Batman better she would think he was a magical entity. Her dad made sure to snip that in the bud that’s for sure! But after a few quick tests it was confirmed that no there just like that. Yes Bruce, she did triple and quadruple checked each test to make sure they weren’t possessed, part magical creature, or any other magic related shenanigans going on with them. Kids just weird like their dear ol’ dad.

Flash had the shortest interaction with Reader, it only lasted a few minutes. It was during an invasion, everyone was fighting, “FLASH! CATCH” Nightwing screamed. He quickly turned to the other man and quickly caught what was thrown at him. Well more like who, a teenager started up at him unblinking. “Shit- okay- evacuation time-“ he said only to be hissed at and the teenager to start scratching his face. He ran anyway, wouldn’t be the first time, or the last that he’s attacked by a reluctant to leave civilian for one reason or another. Once they were a safe distance away Flash stopped and put them with the rest of the rescued civilians. Said civilian leaped out of his arms and hissed at him then ran into the crowd on all fours. Before he could even begin to understand what just happened, he had to run back to the fray. The strange incident completely out of his mind.

Booster Gold was just minding his own damn business in the watchtower one day, when Reader took one look at him and went “I’m gonna mess with that”. It started simple, moving objects from one spot to another when he wasn’t looking, pushing around furniture and knocking glasses off of tables. He felt eyes burning into his back with every step he took. Then Reader started letting him catch glimpses of them, of their shadow or of them turning a corner only to not be there. No one believed him when Booster tried to tell them about the strange spirit following him. Which is bullshit! They literally work with an actual goddamn ghost! The only one who did believe them was Blue Beetle, the second not the third. After almost a week of this Reader started to kind of feel bad for terrorizing this man. It was clearly making him anxious and a little paranoid, so they officially revealed themselves not just to him but to the rest of the justice league. Which was a shock to Batman because he did not know Reader was on the ship! How did they even get there??

[babybatss-blog]

EUPHORIA

Link (TOTK) x f!reader, 700 words

Summary: Your dancing at the stable drives Link to a strange realisation.

Cw: written from 3rd persons pov, therefore y/n is used lots. Implied mental health issues in reader.

A picture-perfect serenity, with smoke bellowing out the nose of a cartoonish horse shaped tent, adorned with colourful reds and blues and purples of cloth flowing throughout where Y/n and Link are tonight. This scenic location appears to be the pure definition of stillness, the only sound being the rushing water in a river and the crickets chirping in the grass.

That is until you get closer, and suddenly the true reality unveils itself.

A cacophony of sounds is heard, such as guitar, singing and laughter, displaying happiness between the party of unlikely friends. At New Serene Stable the full moon is high as the many guests gather around singing folk songs passed down through generations of Hyrule, some even Link knows from his 100 years in the past. Link sit’s next to y/n at the campfire, listening to her angelic singing in a choir with the others.

“The seas are calm and blue, so welcoming anew.

The sky a piece of pie, soft and warm tonight.

The captain soars off in his boat its as if he can fly!”

This song invokes a weak memory within Link, a vision of the past where his father sang the very song to him in his tiny bed. It was made of straw, but he slept peacefully after hearing the soothing voice. Y/n on the other hand, remembers it in a very different way. Her classmates would go to the beach and scream the song at the top of their lungs to the boats passing by, giggling and doing cartwheels on the scorching sand. She sometimes wished that she could be a sailor herself, escaping towards a new adventure across the hypnotising ocean.

“The chef cooks up a storm, its tasty in this form.

Its lettuce tastes like water and without it you’re forlorn!”

One old man claps to the beat, swaying with a wide smile. Y/n immediately joins in with the others, an enthusiastic clap coming from them. Link subtly turns towards Y/n, noticing the twinkle in her eyes due to the campfire and pure joy collectively. A thought crosses his mind on how he wishes to see them in this state a million times again, but he pushes it away due to the pit quickly forming in his stomach.

Y/n leans towards Link whispering in his ear intimately. “You don’t know the words?” She asks, seeing a nervous smile appear on his face. “I know the words. I just, don’t like to sing.” He admits. She giggles at his embarrassment, half shocked and half endeared by this confession. They are so different, but also so intertwined in each other. Suddenly, she stands up along with a couple of little kids, who hold hands around the campfire. Y/n turns over her shoulder to look at Link, a grin on her face. “Join us?” He fervently shakes his head in response, seemingly repulsed by the idea. Y/n merely laughs, beginning to spin with the kids to the words resounding in the stable.

“Oh my Hylia said to me, this is where your meant to be.

A captain, chef, and a happy team all like a family!”

Y/n soon feels dizzy, hand in hand with ecstatic children that run around like monkeys. Despite this, her laughter is resounding, a brown skirt flowing in her movements. Truthfully, no matter how happy she is she wishes that Link would join her. Her eyes lock with his momentarily as she stands opposite from him, and some strange moment of connection ensues. She sees him as the nervous child too scared to make a move, and he sees her as the woman hiding away a deep seeding pain within. But they also see a beauty, one that they would never see in themselves but should as it shows their true selves.

And Link wonders… Why is this woman so perfect? Her hair flowing, her cheeks blushed and teeth shining are the definition of unadulterated joy, something he craves forever more.

Is this… Love?

[unwantedshivering]

TENDER

Kevin is frighteningly, scarily soft with you after Eva mistakes your bruise for his doing and you refute it.

MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: talk of DA (domestic abuse, but none actually committed), weird bruise kissing/touching, up for interpretation ending (could be sexual, could be cuddling), a hint of emotional manipulation and neglect. it’s kev after all

FOR: Kevin Khatchadourian (1.6k)

NOTES: so soft that i question myself if i wrote this with kev in mind, but i kept it as little OOC as possible

Kevin, for all intents and purposes, is like a cat.

This is not said to demean his true nature in any sense. You’ve seen firsthand the cruelty he can display with a brush of his finger, you’ve heard the things whispered along the walls of his home. You’ve spoken with Eva.

It was after your first dinner at the Khatchadourian household as his significant other. It felt more like a flimsy label sticker stuck on a can, but it was still a label rather than a sly tilt of the head — which, not surprisingly, was what you were met with in the first few months you hung around Kevin. Whenever you asked any variation of, “What are we?” it was faced with silence, a cock of the eyebrow, and then him ignoring you.

You came a long way.

After dinner you offered to help Eva with the dishes, and she politely declined before smiling and agreeing. It was awkward. Being alone with Eva in every sense of the word was just… awkward. It seemed as though she never wrapped her head around the fact that you stayed, and you weren’t going anywhere.

You placed a cup on the drying rack, making light conversation with her before she broke the lightheartedness abruptly.

“Does he… ah, Kevin — does he hurt you?”

It was uttered quick, in a short burst as though he could walk in any second and catch her. It felt surreal. You noted immediately that her eyes darted wildly from your face and the bruise you acquired from hitting your arm too hard on a railing.

“You can tell me. I can help, really —“

“No,” you interjected politely, blinking the shock out of your face. “No he doesn’t. I… yeah, he doesn’t. I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry it’s not what you’re looking for.

She deflated immediately. Maybe she was trying to find consolation in the fact that his cruelty was something evident to others, bared to others like it was to her. Still, you couldn’t lie to her. He never hurt you. Sometimes emotionally he drove you insane, but physically he never hurt you in a way that screamed imminent death. Sure, he could grip your wrist a bit too tight, but that was nothing.

Kevin is like a cat.

When you went upstairs that night after awkwardly drying off the dishes with Eva, he was already waiting for you at the top of the stairs. Not a creaking wooden step was heard as he stood unnervingly still, like an apparition waiting for you to make the first movie. You gave him a light smile, a cautious and confused one. He simply pivoted on his heel, leaving to his room. Follow me, the silence said.

And follow you did.

His room was starkly blank, with nothing of interest but his bow and himself. It smelt of linen, and mornings of sun, but right then it smelt of nothing but Kevin. He had taken it upon himself to wear a white button up to dinner, a new development which left your mind reeling. Seriously, if his pale skin and lithe form weren’t emphasized before, the button up simply made him look angelic.

A deceiving sort of angelic, though. It was an uncomfortable sort of normalcy that he didn’t often display, and despite how lovely he looked in his all too-tight shirts, the looseness of the fabric made him look… soft. The exact opposite of what he was. The inky mess on his head only furthered this notion of softness, of, well, normal. He was a normal boyfriend, you could tell yourself.

He sat on the edge of his bed, and you trailed after him like a curious animal, hoping to be met with affection rather than harm. You told the truth to Eva, he never hurt you physically, but his mannerisms set off your base instincts as though he could. It was the possibility.

You stopped right in front of him and he looked up at you through his tussled locks, startlingly long lashes accentuating the darkness of his eyes. “What did she say?” he asked, though it was more like a statement than an inquiry. It was though he already knew.

“Nothing,” you murmured, soft. Soft, soft, soft.

“Don’t lie to me.”

You quirked the smallest smile, because his tone itself was intimidating enough for you to fold under the pressure. If you listened closely, you could’ve heard his heart dancing wildly under his skin, and his breathing catching for some reason. This some unknown and sanctified reason was, perhaps, you. He didn’t attempt to distinguish this, as if he did then he would truly be gone.

“I meant nothing that I could answer,” you reiterated, “nothing that could make me leave.”

Briefly, his intense eye contact broke, and he glanced down at the rest of you standing before him before blank eyes returned to your face. You tilted your head at this, as he was never one to randomly break eye contact, and nonetheless to return it afterward. It was either you had his attention or you didn’t. That was another reason why he was like a cat, you supposed.

In an instant, in a split second of thought, he gripped your waist, finding heavy purchase on the sides to pull you closer. You blinked, a small noise escaping your mouth in shock, your knee resting between his legs in an awkward fashion to not fall fully on him. He always got a little… odd when it came to his mother, and yet never was he touchy. There wasn’t a reason to comfort him when the oddness came in droves and mainly in the form of unfathomable anger.

His hands were large, fingers inching to dig into the flesh of your skin. Despite these urges, to dig as he pleased and not care of your cries, something stopped him. It was almost thankfulness, almost a twisted form of relief that Eva couldn’t make you run out the door screaming. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, the twinge so small that it couldn’t really be deemed feeling.

Other than sharing this with you, he hummed. It was a minuscule confirmation. “I heard what she asked,” he said, eyes looking up at you, grip firm. “She’s stupid to think that.”

Yes, stupid.

You smiled, your own hands finding loose comfort over his own. His purchase didn’t let up, and somehow his jaw set even firmer. “You don’t hurt me,” you answered. “I think you could, but you don’t.”

It was frighteningly bold of you to say this, as he could prove you wrong right then, though he wouldn’t. He could take it as a challenge, though he chose not to. It lit a small fire in Kevin, an annoyance that you were right yet no want to prove you wrong. It was uncannily unlike him.

“You’re stupid to think that.” There was no typical amusement in his voice. It was another statement, like he knew something you didn’t.

Yes, you were also stupid. Though you were still right, and Kevin instead did nothing to refute this other than a weak verbal rebuttal. He roamed your form once again, eyes crossing your collarbones, your shirt slightly lifting to show skin, and finally landing on the unmistakable bruise Eva thought was Kevin’s doing.

Without warning, he let up one of his hands to grip your elbow below the bruise, and you almost thought that yes, you were stupid to think that before his lips met it. It was a light, awkward thing he had to bend his neck for. It was way too soft to be his lips, way too soft to be him. In a fashion that was still himself though, you felt him smirk against the tender flesh as though he knew your brief fear.

You couldn’t lie and say that there wasn’t a staggering hint of terror that gripped your heart. There wasn’t a need a lie, it washed over your face. There wasn’t anything to be afraid of either, but it was the same fear and sense of accomplishment one would receive when a feral animal accepts food from their hand; it was unbelievable, something you could rave about in your head for months.

Despite the awkwardness of the position, Kevin was able to look graceful. His lips met it in a way that they would before taking a bite out of an apple, or perhaps a bruised peach or plum in this situation. Your base instincts told you he would sink his teeth into the skin, dig his fingers and nails into the darkened pit for nothing other than to hear you squeak. He did neither, and your instincts were wrong again. He kissed it once more. And again. And again. Each time a different angle, a different tilt of the head. Each time feather light, without pressure, like a ghost of lips to tantalize your flesh.

Finally, he let go, eyes still zoned in on that bruise as though he was thankful for it. It was a large thing, taking up a good amount of space on your inner arm as you had rammed front-first into railing on a crowded Friday. Kevin didn’t ask how you got it. You thought that aspect probably didn’t matter to him, it was just the fact that it was there.

It was also an ugly thing, growing yellow and purple and dark enough to be questioned in the first place. Despite its ugliness, it was being worshipped in that moment for a reason you couldn’t surmise.

Kevin’s dark eyes met yours again, lips still parted and breath escaping like stolen air. Your air, as you couldn’t believe what he just did. The inky blackness of his eyes under stern eyebrows roamed your face, your expression, tickling your skin with every trace over. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed he wanted to engrave your every micro-expression to his memory.

In a singular moment, he pulled you forward, his back hitting the bed and taking you with him in a soft thud.

[mara-xx217]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companion Sleeping Positions/Habits

Every time I long reset in the game, I think about this and I've come up with some pretty good headcanons for them all, I think

Astarion

The man is dead, darling.

He is totally silent, still, doesn't even breathe while he's sleeping.

Is he even sleeping...?

Astarion sleeps stiff as a board, his arms flat at his side and his ankles touching one another.

He dead ass looks like a corpse on display.

It scared Karlach so bad during her first night at camp that she all but picked Astarion up and shook him violently, screaming his name in his face as she cried about him 'not breathing' and 'dead, dead, he's bloody dead'!!!

Astarion was not pleased the first night Karlach was in camp and was less impressed the massive tiefling had him a foot off the ground, laughing with relief that 'he's not dead after all, just playing at it'!

He was not playing but he won't say he enjoys the attention at least a little bit as well

Gale

The type to sleep with an eye mask.

Has a routine that he follows, to ensure that he gets all his rest.

Uses pleasant perfumes and oils on his pillows and blankets. (Much to Astarion and Lae'zel's chagrin)

Has a nice, soft robe he sleeps in, along with slippers.

Starts sleeping on his back but always flips onto his stomach and wakes up like that.

Shadowheart

Hands down the most 'normal' sleeper of the entire camp.

No overtly loud snoring, no sleepwalking, no sleep talking, nothing.

She does sleep with a dagger under her pillow and her hand curled around the grip, but has yet to 'accidentally' stab anyone that wakes her up as of yet.

Sleeps either on her side or her back.

Lae'zel

Sleeps in an extremely tight fetal position.

Likes she's reverting back to egg.

Her knees are to her chin, which looks uncomfortable, but she sleeps soundly so... Good for her?

Also sleeps with a dagger under her pillow, like Shadowheart. Only Lae'zel will actually just hold it out in the open, like a threat full of promises.

Karlach and Wyll would throw a blanket over her, thinking she's curled up from being chilled, only to have her throw it off rather violently, totally in her sleep, of course.

As silent as a mouse, but will hiss, snarl and growl occasionally, especially if sounds are present while she's asleep.

Wyll

Sleeps flat on his back like a weirdo.

Usually crosses his arms over his chest too.

Sleeping with horns after he's turned into a devil was an... interesting learning curve. (Read: totally fucking annoying)

Switching from sleeping onto his back to his stomach was extremely uncomfortable.

Ends up sleeping sitting upright for a while, as he simply cannot get comfortable to save his life.

Brings a box over to his bed role so he can lean against it while resting.

Karlach

She's everywhere.

No, she doesn't sleepwalk thank Gods but she moves so much that she damn near does.

Karlach acts out her dreams and talks in her sleep, but stops just shy of speaking complete sentences and walking about punching random trees (or people-).

Clive, her trusty bear, has been at her side for as long she could remember, and it remains true even now.

Belly, side, back, side, belly-

The blanket has caught on fire not because of her unnatural heat, but because she has yeeted it into the fire in her sleep.

Halsin

99.99% of the time, he is in his bear form, the rest he's in his 'natural', elven state.

SNORES

Growls and grumbles both as a bear and as an elf.

Otherwise, he's pretty 'normal'.

Snuggle bug supreme

Jaheira

Another 'normie' when it comes to sleeping.

She's an extremely light sleeper, mostly out of necessity.

Hears movement, cracks an eye open, assesses possible threats then goes back to sleep.

Usually sits up/leans against something when resting, which is the strangest thing that she does.

Is it actually comfortable? Who knows! Jaheria won't tell and just says to 'leave an old woman alone'.

Minsc

Good Gods, it's like this man and Halsin are trying to out snore one another at night.

And it's like he and Karlach are trying to have a conversation with one another while sleeping as well...

At least he's not a sleepwalker.

Minsc will grab any poor passerby and wrestle them into a bear hug while sleeping, so everyone has learned to stay clear of him after Astarion was the poor bastard to learn this first hand.

Yes, he was trying to snoop through Minsc's things so he pretty much had this coming.

Boo is always on his person as well, of course, and somehow manages to remain safe from any accidental crushings.

Minthara

Another that's as still as a statue while she sleeps.

Somehow, she looks just as serious asleep as she does when she's awake...

It's sort of cute

Another incredibly light sleeper, and yet another that sleeps with a dagger under her pillow.

What's the strangest about her is that she sleeps little at all, almost always awake when other's get up in the middle of the night to take a leak or fool around.

The last to fall asleep and the first one to wake up, even beating Lae'zel to the early worm.

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @cherrysodalite, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine, @memoryofheather @horny-3

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

blame @ultrakatua for this raphael eats tav's heart (she's into it lol)

Read on AO3

-

“I heard an interesting saying once,” says the devil. Soft, slow, murmured like a gentle prayer by a devout at church. “You mortals are so terribly fond of those.”

“What saying,” says the mouse. Hushed, fast, words pushed through cracked dry lips licked one-too-many times by a tongue that cannot lay still. Impatient, but obedient.

“That the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” says the devil. “Quite the allegory. Don’t you agree?”

“Quite,” says the mouse.

The devil circles her. Stares, eyes dark and glittering. Calm, controlled, despite the yawning hunger so clearly written all over his handsome face. He is always hungry. Gluts upon the things he covets: souls, power, subservience. Her. Men like him cannot be sated. He will consume everything she offers and everything she doesn’t, for eternity. What a thrilling thought.

“I wonder,” says the devil. “What is the quickest way to your heart?”

He drags one sharp and solitary black claw along her bare flesh. Displayed so sweetly for him. Damp with sweat. Muscles quiver beneath her fragile skin that does not break, not yet, not until he wills it. Blood flows close to the surface yearning to be spilled. Her little baby hairs all stand on end.

“Raphael,” the mouse whispers. There is the gentle, ominous chime of a grandfather clock from somewhere.

“Beloved,” the devil croons. Smiles. Reaches between her legs to rub two fingers through her mons. She gasps, hips jerking when he nudges her swollen clit, but all he’s looking for is to coat himself in her warm slick. “A meal as fine as this should be savoured.” He holds those wet fingers up to her lips. “Open.”

The taste of her cunt is tart, earthy. Underneath it is purely him: cherries, smoke and magic. Reverently she sucks his digits clean. Bites them, thrilled by his quiet groan, the expanding of his pupils, the swish of his tail. Violence is a devil’s love language, after all. When he frees his fingers from the moist prison of her mouth, her teeth catch on his knuckles. He leaves twin trails of spit down her chin and throat as he lazily lets his huge paw rest between her breasts. She grows breathless with anticipation.

He doesn’t need a blade. The singular claw that earlier teased her with terrible promise is enough. He draws a division from the hollow of her clavicle to the end of her sternum, a division of red that blooms and blossoms into an incision, splitting skin and fat and muscle tissue like bursting fruit. She arches up off the table where he had her present herself, as all choice cuts should. The noise she releases is guttural, both agony and ecstasy. His first slice is always the deepest.

“Such beautiful sounds you make,” the devil purrs, voice tight. “Sweeter than all the music of the Hells. Let me hear more.”

Of course she obliges. Screams and whimpers and sobs even as her hands help him widen the wound further, pulling skin and meat slippery with gushing blood apart from the stained ivory of her ribs. It’s pain indescribable and pleasure inexplicable. The exposing of her true and tender self to the man who she wants to tear her apart. What he seeks, what she yearns to offer him, is protected behind a cage of bone. If he gave her a hammer, she would smash it open herself.

“Oh, my sweet pet. My darling little mouse,” the devil growls. His composure unravels the more she suffers. He is a monster below his veneer of charm and decorum, a monster excited and aroused. “You are exquisite.”

“Raphael…!” The mouse weeps.

He answers her call. Strokes her face, smearing it with crimson. His fine clothes splattered with blood. His hard cock strains in his trousers. He breathes through his mouth, fangs shining, pupils so large his eyes are abysses sunk into his deep sockets.

“Just a little more,” the devil promises.

Together they pry away her ribs, snapping them like dry twigs, and at last she can watch him reach into her chest, reach into her very being, and wrench out the thing that will always belong to him. Her heart beats loud and fast, torn valves spurting bright red arterial blood everywhere, as he holds it in his palm like a treasured jewel. Stares with insidious desire. She feels nothing but depraved satisfaction.

“Eat it,” the mouse chokes. “It’s for you. It’s yours.”

He feasts. Sinks his teeth into her heart as easy as a man eating an overripe peach. Rips pieces of rubbery muscle apart and swallows them whole. Pieces of her sliding down his gullet. All of the twisted, consuming emotions he makes her feel, the dark things about herself she could never escape – everything she is, was, and ever will be, contained in that bloody mass, and he is devouring it. Such sick rapture, to be destroyed by someone who wants you that much. Now she’ll be a part of him forever.

[alonetimelover]

to feel fulfilled

pairing: Harry Styles x polish!reader (fem, she/her)

summary: During the day of the last Love on Tour show Harry intends to do three things: satisfy his fiancée, make granny's dream come true and put on the best performance for his fans.

warnings: fluff, some suggestive moments (nothing explicit), they are in love, okay? and granny is the total sweetheart, with Harry they are the power duo.

word count: 3,5k

a/n: Based on the anon request!

masterlist

Italy during summer was the most beautiful place on Earth, thought YN for the past couple of days, she’d been there. The house that Harry and her bought just over two years ago had windows overlooking the coast, shining, clear blue water crashing against the rocks, waking her up every day. Birds singing while sitting on the trees outside of their room’s balcony and the smell of the fresh coffee being brewed by one of the guests. 

She felt in heaven. 

“Will you let me wake up with you in my arms instead of the scrunched blanket, woman?” 

YN turned around from the balcony and smiled. 

“Good morning to you too, Harry.”

“Aghh!” Harry screamed into the pillow. “Come ‘ere. I beg you.”

With a winning smirk on her face, she slowly - teasingly - walked up to Harry’s side of bed. YN put a hand on his unruly mop of hair and brushed it away from his face. She’d never get over the way he looked in the morning. Clear complexion, always warm and awaiting her touch with scrunched eyebrows and eyes shut close, like scared of the beams of the sunlight. His soft skin glowing in those, the tattoos on display like paintings in the gallery. When he finally opened his eyes they radiated the peacefulness they seeked all the time. 

She once came to the conclusion that she loved him the most in the morning light. 

“Good morning,” Harry finally responded, clinging to YN’s legs. “How’d you sleep, lovie?”

Still stroking his hair, after countless kisses being pressed to her thighs, hips and belly she laughed and squirmed away from Harry’s needy lips. 

“Insufferable from the moment he woke up. Why didn't it surprise me?” 

“Your fault.”

Not giving her a chance to respond he hooked her legs in his arm and threw her on the bed. In seconds he laid his whole body on hers, pressing them together. Two became one. 

“Your fault,” Harry repeated, kissing YN’s lips for the first time this morning. “You look like this in the morning and want me not to do something about it?”

“Like this?”

“Yeah. This little thing.” Harry stretched the strap of her cotton top, snapping it back to place right away. “You’re irresistible. It’s driving me insane.”

Harry stretched his answer with breaks for kissing different parts of her body after each word. Cheek, lips, nose, eyelid, neck, collarbone, that one place right above her breast. He left those kisses like sweet treats for later. Because he knew that later he’d have time to do it even slower. 

“Don’t go too insane. Lots of people are waiting for you today.”

As the answer to that, Harry collapsed on her, hiding his face into her neck. This evening was going to be a sour-sweet moment. It was the end of the Love On Tour. After two years of travelling the world, putting his best each night and sacrificing sometimes more than he was willing to, it was a sour moment. He put his whole self into making it the place for all people, to help them feel comfortable, loved. But the end was inevitable and seeked. He was tired, prone to little health problems due to that exhaustion and he longed for a month to spend in one place. With his family and friends. With YN. 

“Can’t believe it’s the last one.”

“Two years. It’s been a long time since you’ve had a good night's sleep, huh?”

“I always sleep well with you by my side. Not that long of a time since, it seems.” He smiled widely, kissing her neck. “Thank you for being here. Wouldn’t be able to do any of it without you.”

“Thank you for finding me.”

***

“Babcia, what do you mean you’re not going with us?” Harry asked, confused. 

“I get easily seasick, my boy. Also, the garden needs some attendance. I'm going back home in two days. You all will have nice holidays and then come to me, right?”

Harry pouted, but then smiled lovingly at YN’s granny. “Of course. You promised me all those tomatoes and cucumbers from your greenhouse, I can’t not come. Right, lovie?”

“We’ll be back in August, granny. You’ll have us all to yourself for a month at least.”

The eyes of the lovely older lady lit up.

“Excellent. Now, let’s talk about that one secret you wanted to discuss with me, Harry. What is it?”

Granny took a sip of her hot tea and almost choked on it, after hearing what Harry had in mind. The couple was immediately on their feet, assisting her by firstly taking the cup and then carefully but firmly tapping granny’s back. When she settled down, assuring Harry three times that she was okay, they all sat back on their former seats. 

“I can’t do it, Harry. It’s impossible.” She rejected him, feeling her heart breaking. She loved Harry like her own grandchild and refusing anything to him was like stabbing herself. 

“No, it’s not. I heard it. We did it together. It won’t be any different.”

“Won’t be any different? Harry, my boy, you don’t believe the word you’re saying. YN, can you talk him out of it?” She turned to her granddaughter with hopeful eyes. 

“I could but I’m not going to. If Harry thinks it’s a good idea, I think so, too. Plus, you know that he won’t do anything against your will. You have time to give him an answer. Whatever it is, nothing will change.” 

“Oh, how those kids grow. It was just yesterday I was giving you this talk right before your recital,” granny laughed, squeezing her grandchildren’s hands. “I’ll think about it, okay? But I don’t promise anything.”

***

“Harry, can you please sit down?” YN pleaded with her fiance, trying to finally set him down and talk calmly. “I promised to take care of my family while you prepare for tonight, let me do that.”

“Yes, yes,” he responded frantically, still pacing through the room. “Your auntie and uncle are staying at the house, they’re not there yet because of the plane cancellation. Your cousins - the ones with funny hair styles - Anna and Maria - yeah, those were the names,  are already at the venue and are staying with their parents at Sergio’s house. Now, your parents are at the house with mum, Gemma and Michal. Granny is there too. Where’s grandad? I forgot about granddad. Jesus Christ, lovie. I- I forgot-”

Harry couldn’t finish the thought though. YN stood before him and held his face in her hands, stroking the rosy cheeks. 

“Shhh. You didn’t forget. Grandpa is back home. He sprained his ankle a week ago. You didn’t forget about anyone. You are the best host they could ask for, yeah?”

He took a deep breath. When he thought the Warsaw show was the most stressful one, he was so wrong it was funny. Not only he didn’t rehearse any of the songs yet he took upon himself to take care of everyone he invited for tonight. He knew YN promised and reminded him that she would do it, but he couldn’t just sit like a bump on the log. 

“Right ankle, I remember.”

“Now, deep breath in, baby. Let’s calm down, okay?”

Harry followed YN’s every breath, staring into her eyes. The calmness they provided, the stability he was reaching towards, all there, in those two little irises.

“Better?”

“Yes. Thank you, my love.”

He softly kissed her lips, lingering to put his hammering heart at ease. The softness of them comforting his chapped ones (all due to biting them in stress). He slowly, but surely embraced her body, deepening the kiss. 

YN was the only one to bring him back to reality. Also the only one to let him forget about the struggles and think about pleasure. There was no hour in a day when Harry didn’t think about her. When he would kiss her, hug her, make love to her. She bedevilled his soul and body, and he gladly took the role of the possessed. 

Screw calming his heart. Now, it was beating for her and only her. 

“As much as I’d love to keep going towards where it does. We need to stop,” YN whispered, after dramatically ending their kiss. 

“No, we don’t. Keep going, baby. Please?”

Now, he moved to her neck. To that one spot that was reserved for moments alone, for times where he really wanted to convince her. The spot right where she loved to feel his lips the most. The one, driving her over the edge with desire. Even the strongest soldier on earth wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation. 

So why would she?

“Fifteen minutes. Not a second more, not a -”

“Not a second less. Oh, I’ll use that time to the last drop.”

Before YN could scold him for the innuendo he shut her up with the deepest kiss that day. 

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by harrysmoustache, hArrysbtch and 23 402 others

harryupdates HARRY BACKSTAGE AT THE REGGIO FAMILIA!!!! the last show of tour is strating in less than an hour!!!! via italianoharry

view all 4 202 comments

hArrysbtch what do we think, hitties out tonight?

comment liked by harryupdates and 16 301 others

italianoharry guys!!! he's whole family is here. yn is and here granny as well. harry was helping her move around the place swiftly

⤷ harrysmoustache i love this man with my whole heart

harrysmylife i can't wait to watch the livestream and cry for hours

harryshoee do we think he'll sing more songs????

⤷ harryonedirection i'm praying for the full best song ever!

⤷ harrysadbtch i want little freak. if he sings it, you can do with me whatever

———————————————���——————————————

“He’s going to get sick. The wind is starting to pick up, he’s overheated. I told him, YN,” granny spoke in her native language to YN. 

Harry was already on stage. Three songs already done with twenty or more to go, and granny worried. Right before going to the ‘softgoods’ box, she saw him and almost cursed the stylist. ‘You are going to catch a cold,’ she said to him then to which Harry responded with ‘well, YN keeps me warm, babcia.’ 

“He’s going to be alright, granny. He is as healthy as a horse. Don’t worry and dance with me, huh?”

While dancing to Keep Driving, they kept watching Harry enjoying his last performance. The energy he brought with himself radiated to the audience. They, they were incredible. On the way to their ‘seats’ (the area that Harry had asked the guards to prepare for his immediate family) they all received friendship bracelets and gave away some. Granny made them together with Harry during their ritual afternoon tea, hoping to be able to pass them over. Each one consisted of a little note from Harry, thanking for participating in the show and being the fans for however many years they’d been. 

When Harry started moving towards the catwalk, granny breathed out in quite the exhaustion. 

“Right now, we’ll have a little slower section,” Harry spoke to the microphone. “Babcia, how are we feeling?” 

Granny looked up at Harry and smiled widely, putting her thumbs up. 

“She’s great, Reggio Emilia. Will you make some noise for her?” 

Harry then screamed into the microphone, welcoming the audience to do the same. They all mimicked him, making granny hide her face in the palm of her hands. YN hugged her grandma from behind, smiling at Harry. 

“Okay. Okay. Settle down! Now, we’re moving towards the slower part of the show. Granny, would you like to sit down?”

Granny was ready to let things go hang and tell him to keep going with the show, but YN tapped her shoulder and signed towards the ground. There was a little folding chair, waiting for her. 

“Thank you, sweetie.”

“Okay, now that granny is settled and in good hands - thank you, baby - please sing if you know the words!” 

Harry then proceeded to make YN cry by singing her favourite songs. She loved them all but Little Freak, Matilda, Falling and Fine Line would always hold a special place in her heart. Plus, he did not  say a thing about adding those to the setlist. 

While walking back to the centre stage Harry looked over, seeing YN wiping off the tears and helping granny to get up and dance just a bit more. Inaudibly he asked her if everything was okay and after getting her signature smile back, he was on his way. 

***

“Granny, I am sorry and please cover your ears,” Harry said to the microphone before the intro to the Medicine started. 

“You know,” granny started, turning towards YN. “I kept my promise and didn’t search for the meaning of this song. But I am not stupid.”

“Granny,” YN longed, embarrassed. 

“Oh, I was young once, too. Enjoy it.” But when YN thought it would be enough to make her feel warm in the awkwardness, granny added. “Maybe, tell Harry to use more complicated metaphors so I wouldn’t understand what he’s doing with my granddaughter.” 

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch and 58 302 others

harryupdates GRANNY COVER TOUR EARS. Harry is singing MEDICINE right now.

view all 10 202 comments

hArrysbtch and then he proceeds to sing it so slutty while looking at YN the whole time!!!!!

harrysmoustache yeah, im done

harryslotitaly i was standing behind yn and her granny and she said something along the lines 'tell harry to use difficult words to describe what he's doing with my granddaughter'

⤷ hArrysbtch we STAN yn's granny

⤷ harryno1fan idol

⤷ harryupdates we are now the fans of granny

——————————————————————————————

When ‘As It Was’ neared its end, the whole family of Harry’s started to move backstage, knowing what was coming next would be for them to watch from a closer place.  YN helped her granny move slowly towards the backstage area, holding the foldable chair in her left arm. Fans that they were passing reached for them, asking to pass on their love towards Harry. Granny got even more bracelets. 

“It’s Kiwi now, isn’t it?” She asked while going up the stairs, behind the stage. 

“Yes, it is. Then he’ll be back with us. For a moment,” YN added the last sentence quietly, still counting on granny to be persuaded by Harry. 

“Oh, you still want me to do it?”

“I do. Remember all the stories you’ve told us about. When you were younger with grandpa, the dream you both had?” YN switched to her mother’s tongue, wanting to have this moment just for her and her granny. 

“It was a long time ago,” granny said, having a sad smile on her face. “It’s been so long. I forgot what dreams were about.”

“Freedom. You’ve always said it was freedom.”

Granny, whenever they spoke of hard and devastating themes, was in awe of her granddaughter’s wit and cleverness. With each word she was proud of the woman YN’s become. Woman, that granny wanted to be. Free, happy and with a man she loved by her side. But granny never felt free. 

So maybe, after 92 years of her life, it was time to make that 12-year-old girl dream come true. 

“Here comes the star!” Someone’s scream pulled granny out of her thoughts. 

From behind the corner came Harry. Sweaty, exhausted, teared up but smiling. He walked up to the first person on his way - Anne - and hugged her like never before. Then he went to Gemma, his dad, and friends. Then he moved towards grinning YN. 

“I’m so, so proud of you.” She kissed him on the lips and pulled him towards her body, crashing them together. “So proud. You can’t even imagine.”

“I love you, my love. Oh, I love you!” Harry screamed, picking his love up and spinning them around. 

People all over them started cheering and whistling. They were used to Harry and YN being very affectionate with each other. They didn’t mind it, they appreciated how open they were with showing everyone that they loved the other with their whole hearts. 

“The piano is on stage, Harry.” Came the voice from behind them, interrupting their moment. 

“I’ll be right there!” 

After putting YN down, giving her one more kiss on the lips and forehead, he searched for granny with his eyes. The little lady was bearing down on one of the boxes, an enormous smile on her face. 

“Granny!”

“Harry, my boy!” 

He quickly embraced her delicately, kissing the side of her head. “Thank you for being here, granny. I wouldn’t be able to do it without you here.”

Granny smiled even more, “you’ve been practising your polish, I see. Thank you.”

As the answer Harry put his head on granny’s shoulder mumbling something. 

“What?”

“I need to go,” Harry repeated, looking into granny’s eyes. “I will play the ballad for them.”

When she looked into Harry’s eyes she saw the same things she saw in one’s boy’s eyes that she had married all those 70 years ago. The hope, love and fearlessness in that gaze was unmistakable. They were so similar but so different at the same time. They both wanted to give people everything they had, but her husband knew when to say stop. Harry was yet to be taught that. Both were so in love, they were ready to give up their life for it. Both cherished their families. Both wanted to make music. But only Harry got to do it. 

Granny knew that her husband would laugh at her reluctance to do what Harry wanted. He would say that ‘after all those years, you still don’t want to feel fulfilled’. He would hug her and say he understood and that he also would do the same. And he would also push her towards achieving what he couldn’t. What they couldn’t back in the day. 

It was the day she was going to feel fulfilled. Day of making dreams come true. Her and her husbands. Because he was ready to live the dream through her. 

“We will.”

Harry’s eyes grew big in shock. After the morning’s conversation he dropped all hope on doing this. He thought that the discussion was over and it was to never be brought back up again. He was very wrong and very glad for that. 

“In this case,” YN interrupted their moment, holding a hand with something white towards Harry. “I had it made just in case granny changed her mind.”

Examining the thing closer, Harry saw it was a T-shirt. When he unfolded it, his eyes shone brighter. 

“Granny, look at it!” 

On the front of the T-shirt on the white background were granny’s and Harry’s faces (Harry remembered when the photo was taken - just after the Warsaw show) with a big writing, saying REGGIO EMILIA IS GRANNY’S HOUSE and the date of the show underneath. 

“YN-”

“Look at the back,” YN interrupted her granny and helped Harry turn the material. 

There was a photo of granny and grandpa with their friends during their one and only concert back in 1948. Granny sitting by the piano and her husband with the guitar he had spent his whole paycheck on. Right there was the writing: GRANNY AND PAPA’S BAND. 

“Now, there is no time for tears, granny,” Harry whipped the tears off her cheeks. “I’ll wear this shirt and you will wear my jacket, okay?”

Granny couldn’t formulate any words. She just accepted the jacket Harry wore for the whole concert and with the help of YN put it on. Harry quickly dressed himself in YN’s gift and moved towards the stage. 

“I’ll be with you on stage, right next to you. If you want to stop playing, don’t worry. You can put your head on my arm and we’ll do this together, right?” 

“Right. I’ll play the highest notes. We’ll do it four-handed, yes?”

“Yes. I am right next to you.”

“I already gave you my blessing, but oh boy,” granny sighed. “She couldn’t have found a better man to spend the rest of her life with.”

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by harryitaly and 93 301 others

harryupdates "This is a song that Granny wrote by herself a few years ago in 1947, when she was in a band. They played one concert together before the idea of becoming the musicians was taken from them by the cruel reality of living post-war. Now, I'd really like for you to listen to this beautiful ballad called 'to be fulfilled'. I'm glad to do it with granny for the first time ever." Then granny took the microphone saying,"It's just for you, just for tonight."

view all 18 302 comments

harrysmoustache i-

harrysmoustache no no no, it was so beautiful

harrysmoustache jesus christ im spamming this account

hArrysbtch i fucking cried hard

harrysmylife he's gonna pay the bill for my psychiatrist, cardiologist and whoever can heal mu fucking broken heart

harrysfan82 woah, it was perfect

harryandyn did you guys see the shirt??? it had a picture of granny's band at the back!

——————————————————————————————

Italy at night was even more beautiful than in the morning. The lights shining above their heads with the sound of crashing waves and chatter of people that were yet to go to sleep. The wind was moving the leaves against each other, making the melody of the living nature. 

And there were laughs. Laughs of Harry’s and YN’s while they were stumbling their way towards their front door. 

“And they were all - they were all like - wooah, what is happening? Did you see it, my love?” Harry said definitely too loudly, considering the time. 

“I did see it. You both surprised all of the fans. They loved it.”

YN moved in front of Harry and helped him with fetching the keys in his enormous tote bag. After finding them she turned around and quietly turned them in the lock. Open. 

“Shh,” she silenced Harry before he could make any more noise than stomping his feet against the floor. 

“Okay,” he longed, putting his hands up in no offence. “I am sorry.”

“Let's go to the bedroom. You need a good night's sleep.”

Within moments they were inside the room. YN switched on the lights, illuminating it beautifully. Harry, though, after closing the door behind himself, was moving incredibly fast and steadily towards YN. Pure lust and adoration in his gaze told her one thing: he did not forget the promise he had made that morning. 

He crashed their lips together, not caring how good it could look. He needed to feel her lips. To feel her body. He needed to feel this other - out of the world - connection they had. 

While stroking her cheek with one hand and pulling on her dress with the other, YN was busy trying to unbutton his shirt. Small buttons suddenly flew across the whole room, after Harry’s impatience got the best of him. He just shrugged at YN’s shock and went back to placing kisses across her collarbones. 

“I promised you,” he started, while slowly moving down onto his knees, kissing down and down towards the place he knew when reached - there was no going back. “I would connect those sweet treats, slowly. And then -” Harry helped her take off the dress. “And then, I’m going to slowly, very slowly thank you in the way you love the most.”

He kissed the skin over her hip bone, holding eye contact. The desire her eyes were showing, driving him crazy. But he knew, he needed to be slow. 

“Will you let me thank you too?” YN asked breathlessly, having Harry already started to put her mind in the whole other world. 

“Oh, I intend to. We have a long night before ourselves, don’t we?” 

——————————————————————————————

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, annetwist, harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 13 201 291 others

harrystyles To the fans, thank you for being with me throughout the years. Thank you for attending the shows, and thank you for your support. To the woman I love, thank you for showing me the way with your love and care. To Granny and Papa, thank you for teaching us about unconditional love and dreaming big. To my band, thank you for coming to this journey with me. Goodbye for now. Love, Harry xx

view all 35 930 comments

yourinstagram being proud of you is a misunderstatement, you created the space for people to be themselves. i admire and love you for everything 🩷🩷

yourinstagram granny looks at papa just like that even though its been 70 years

⤷ harrystyles will you still look at me like that in 70 years?

⤷ yourinstagram to the end

annetwist I am so proud of you son!

hArrysbtch yeah, let's cry again

harryupdates THANK YOU

harrysmoustache yeah, he's going to disappear for a year, isn't he?

[pinkslipxox]

could you possibly make a fic where we are best friends with rai and alondrissa and we’re streaming with them and they surprise us with young miko and then the tension between us is so bad that at the end of the night there’s a heated make out seshh 😩😩

Oooh yesss! I wrote this based on the stream she did with them! I did my best, hope you like it ❤️

——————————————————————————

“Que rica esa canción!” Alondra exclaims with delight as the gritty, distorted bass of ‘Oye, ma’ begins to echo throughout the room. She rises from the seat and encourages the audience to sing along.

As soon as the beat drops, Young Miko appears in front of the camera, dancing as Alo, Rai and Alex cheer and scream with delight. You’re just as ecstatic to see the rapper. You’ve only seen her in photos and video, but God, she looks incredible in person. Her red hair cascades over her shoulders like a fiery waterfall, her tattoos on full display thanks to the short sleeved shirt she’s wearing, and the rings on her fingers are to die for.

As the song continues to play, Miko dances and greets the trio with hugs before making her way over to you. She gives you a friendly smile before pulling you into her arms. You soak up her affection like a sponge, hardly believing that you’re hugging Young Miko herself.

“Miko, en verdad gracias por la oportunidad. ¡Que locura!” Alo laughs as she steals another hug from Miko before sitting down.

“Ay, yo te amo,” Alex says as he hugs Miko.

“Yo la amo! YO LA AMO!” Rai shouts with excitement.

“Muchas gracias a ustedes!” Miko says, grinning from ear to ear.

“Y tenemos una otra invitada— nuestra amiga, Y/N. Está aquí visitando familia acá en Puerto Rico y la pedimos si podía acompañarnos,” Rai introduces you with a wide smile on her face. She then leans into Miko’s ear and whispers loudly, “Ella es una gran fan tuya, Miko!”

“Rai!” you whine from embarrassment.

“Esta bien,” Miko chuckles. “Es un placer conocerte, Y/N.”

“El placer es todo mío,” you smile softly, praying that the blush on your cheeks isn’t visible to the fans watching the stream.

“Ay, mírala se puso pachosa!” Alex coos loudly, poking your cheek, and you playfully swat his hand away from your face.

“SE ME PEGÓ Y/N!” the dark haired boy screams dramatically, causing the three girls to laugh.

“Muy bien, Y/N!” Rai praises as she claps her hands, making Alex’s jaw drop in mock offense.

“¡Ya basta, cabrones, portense bien!” Alo scolds as if she were a mother of three small children, yet her tone playful. She then puts her hand on Miko’s shoulder, pouting her lower lip. “Perdona, Miko, son mis hijos…”

Miko laughs. “Acho, está bien. Ya lo estoy pasando cabrón.”

In true Alondra and Rai fashion, the stream continues on in a mix of chaos, boisterous laughter, and delighted shrieks. Despite trying your hardest to stay in the moment, you find yourself drawn to Miko with every word that comes out of her mouth, each smile that spreads on her lips, and laugh that she makes.

Every now and then, Miko glances at you, and she smirks when you quickly look away from her. Thankfully neither Alondra, Rai, or Alex notice the silent tension between the two of you, all of them too excited to even look twice at either of you. You just pray that no one in the stream notices, yet you’re sure that someone is bound to do so.

The rest of the stream flies by, consisting of the trio celebrating hitting their first one million fans, you and Miko holding Rai and Alondra’s Guinea pigs, and Miko trying to put together a tattoo machine. You swear you’ve never laughed so hard in your entire life once the stream is over. Once you’ve thanked Rai, Alondra and Alex for the fun time, you decide to take a quick walk around the neighborhood to calm down the excitement that’s still buzzing within you.

“Hey, Y/N!” an all too familiar voice calls after you.

It’s Miko.

“Hi, Miko,” you greet her with a smile, your voice soft.

“Mind if I join you?” she asks, her voice smooth as honey with a hint of playfulness in it.

“Si, porque no,” you hum, trying to play it cool.

As you walk together in silence, you’re wracking your brains trying to think what to say to her without being it being awkward. You’re still trying to process everything that’s happened during the past hour and a half. And now here you are, walking the streets of Puerto Rico with Young Miko.

“You’re so cute cuando te pones pachosa, nena,” Miko murmurs, a hint of a smirk in her voice.

“Just cute?” you tease, a surge of unexpected confidence coursing through your veins as you turn your head to look at the redhaired woman. “You’re alright, I guess.”

Miko scoffs playfully. “That’s it? Just ‘alright’? The way you were staring at me says otherwise, mami.”

Oh, fuck it, you think to yourself.

Before you can stop yourself, you quickly step in front of Miko and mold your lips against hers. She’s taken aback for a brief moment before she kisses back, smirking into your mouth. Miko holds you closer, her chest pressed against yours, soft moans and gasps escaping from each of you as the kiss becomes more passionate, almost desperate. You wrap your arms around her neck, and Miko’s hands grip your hips, pulling them close to hers.

Miko’s lips then plants hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, and your eyes flutter closed at the sensation. The rest of the world around you fades away, your only focus being Miko. You don’t care if anyone sees you two like this, all you want is Miko and everything she has to offer.

“How about we take this somewhere else?” Miko hums against your skin, and you’re nodding your head before she can even finish her sentence.

Some day, some how, you are going to pay Rai and Alondra back for tonight.