#and for making grammar and spelling mistakes

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

ahhh i read all of your works they are so good. also may please request a "how can you still trust me after everything i've done" with an fem!reader with either 🩺 and/or "i've never met someone as infuriating as you and i can't stop thinking about you" with ⚔️? thank you so much! have a good day!

Hi @beachaddict48 ! Here's the second part of your request! I do hope you like this one! Thank you for asking!

Source for pic

Trust

Word Count: 4934

Tags: fem!reader; modern world AU; mafia; blood; threats; torture; slight angst;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Doflamingo thinks Law is betraying his trust, and what better way to make him confess than by torturing you?

Notes: Ooff, I feel like I need to really get to these requests, but everytime I start to write one I go: oh well, I'll keep this short, around 1k words, or so... IT'S NEVER SHORT! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this, even though I'm so not happy with the ending...

|Masterlist|

“He's not going to give you what you want, Doflamingo. He's not a traitor, you're just wasting our time.”

You have only been in Donquixote Doflamingo's office once. That one time, you noted the opulence of such a room. The tidy desk, the vintage whisky bottles in the corner, some more expensive than a car, the sleek, glistening leather of the chairs. You also noticed that the room exuded something other than opulence: danger. You didn't quite know why, apart from the presence of the man who owned it, but the air was thick with it. 

But now you know. 

The ropes binding your wrists seem to get tighter by the second, your heart pounds against your chest in such an erratic way that you're almost positive the blond man can hear it. The leather chair has been replaced by a cold metal one, with plastic beneath its feet. At first, you didn't understand why he needed the plastic, but once he took out his knife, it all made sense. 

Doflamingo doesn't want to make a mess in his office. 

And it seems you're about to become one. 

“See, that's where you're wrong, princesa. In my book, the time spent setting out a trap to catch a rat is time well spent.”

Doflamingo caresses your cheek with long, cold fingers. His crimson eyes glint behind tinted glasses, and the mixture of the sweet scent of his cologne and the metallic tang of your blood makes your stomach churn with revulsion. 

“Law's not a rat.”

“We'll see about that.” He straightens, his lips curling into a thin smirk as he opens the door to his office to let his nephew in. “Come in, Law. I have a surprise.”

You stifle a gasp behind your teeth, your wrists twisting instinctively as you try to reach your boyfriend, to touch him. The effort only makes the rope’s bite harsher. The plastic beneath your bare feet sticks to them, the blood trickling down your leg, creating swirling patterns and tiny pools. 

Law's golden gaze falls on you, and you see it. His control silently slipping. It's something quite small, barely noticeable, but it's there. It's in the slight clenching of his jaw; it's in the way he opens and closes his hand; and it's definitely in the flicker of anger that flashes in his eyes as he directs his gaze back to his uncle. 

“What is the meaning of this? Why is she under questioning?” At least his voice still carries its edge and calm composure, though you, who know him like the back of your hand, can detect the barest trace of hate. 

“Oh, but she's not, Law. You are.” Doffy's chuckle is low and unnerving, his chest trembling slightly as he places his hand in the pocket of the trousers of his perfectly pressed pink suit. 

“I'm not following, Uncle.”

Law shifts, his gaze searching yours again, a shadow of pain darkens the gold, and you take a deep breath, trying to smile through your suffering as to reassure him. He's assessing your wounds, but Doflamingo was merely playing with you before: a slash on your leg, a shallow cut on your arm, a trickle of blood on your collarbone. Law takes it all in, his throat bobbing up and down as he tries to steady his own breathing. He needs to be strong for what's to come. 

“You see, Law, it has come to my attention that I am being betrayed. Someone is spilling my secrets to the police, and we can't have that, can we?” You focus on the glint of the knife tapping against Doflamingo's chin, using the rhythmic motion to try to steady your uneven breathing. 

It doesn't work. 

“I'm going to assume you’ve exhausted all other options before deciding that I should be the one under scrutiny and my girlfriend the one under torture?” He can't disguise it now, even though you know he's trying to stay controlled, you can hear the growl behind his words, the leashed anger, ready to snap. 

“Believe me, Law, I wish it weren’t like this.”

You know Doflamingo is a master deceiver, but the way he delivers his words almost makes you believe he actually regrets this. 

With a heavy sigh, the intimidating Donquixote steps closer to you, and each tap of his expensive shoes sounds like another nail in your coffin. 

“I trust you, Law.” You whisper. 

-*-

It was a freaking deluge. The rain was pouring nonstop, the light and blissful pitter-patter having turned into heavy, merciless drops in mere seconds. Your hands held your purse above your head, trying to shield some of the relentless rain away as you rushed to find shelter. 

You heard it before you felt it. The screeching tires, the wet sound of soaked concrete. And then blinding pain as you were hit before collapsing on the ground. 

Everything hurt, and you barely registered as the car drove away, its driver giving no thought to what might happen to you. 

You remember thinking this was how you would die. Having a lifetime of regrets and barely a handful of life achievements. 

This was how you'd go. 

“Hang in there, help is on the way.” His voice sounded distant, but it was so measured and gravelly that it managed to ground you enough for you to focus on his eyes. 

The most hauntingly beautiful eyes you've ever seen, an amber light in the darkness that enveloped you. 

“Am I going to die?” It wasn't fear that brought up the question, it was deep-seated regret. 

“Not on my watch.”

And he was right. He didn't let you die, he helped you before the ambulance arrived, disturbing the rain with its blinding lights and filling the night with its echoing sirens. 

But all you could hear was his voice, and all you could see were his eyes. 

-*-

The tip of the knife presses against the hollow of your throat, Doflamingo's fingers hovering over your pulse point, feeling how scared you are. 

Little does he know, you're not frightened for your life. 

It's Law's life that worries you. 

“Stop this, Doflamingo. I'm not the one you're looking for.” Law's voice trembles slightly, and you hope his uncle blames it on his anger rather than on him being on the verge of confessing. 

“Sadly, I don't believe that. And I also know how much you care about your little charity case here.”

Law bares his teeth as blood starts dripping from the small puncture wound on your neck. You lock eyes with him, silently pleading for him to be strong. 

“You do know what I do to traitors, don't you, Law? It doesn't even matter if they're family or not…”

Law's breath shudders as he closes his eyes, and you know he's reliving the worst moment of his life: the moment his other uncle, the man who raised him, who made him believe in love again, was murdered in cold blood right in front of him. 

And how that broke him. 

“You're unstable, Doffy. Deranged and delusional.”

Doflamingo removes the sharp tip from your skin, and you let out a deep breath. But then, his fingers grip your hair as he pulls and tilts your head back with enough force to draw tears, the knife now resting horizontally against your throat. 

Yet you don't release a single sound. 

“Ohhh, I'm so much more than that, Law!” His cackle is maniacal, and the grip on your hair tightens. “I'm insane! But I have a reputation to keep and a business to maintain. I will not tolerate traitors!” He says it with such rage that you can feel drops of spittle hitting you in the face, making you flinch. “Are you the traitor, nephew?”

“He's not.” You answer for him, too afraid he'll let his heart take over and confess just to save you. 

“Shut up!” Doffy growls and yanks on your hair, making you gasp as the knife digs into your neck, crimson droplets spilling out and marring your collarbone. “I'm not talking to you, princesa.”

Law takes a step towards you, and you can see how coiled-tight he is, every movement restrained and controlled. 

“Doflamingo…” There's danger in Law's voice. The type of danger that would make lesser men flinch in fear and hesitate. But not Donquixote Doflamingo. 

He revels in it. 

“Just say the words, Law. Either prove me wrong and make me proud, or prove me right and be the same disappointment my brother was.”

Tears gather in the corner of your eyes, your heart clenching at the pain Law must be feeling. You can't let him say anything. 

You can't let him die. 

“Law, I trust you!” There's not much more you can say. 

You hope it's enough. 

-*-

“I can never trust you again, Law! I thought we were becoming something. I thought you were the one. I just… I never expected you to have so many secrets.”

You had been dating Law for almost a year, had practically moved into his flat. You loved him, and though he had yet to confess the same to you, you knew he loved you back. He was a man who showed his love with actions rather than words. 

But these actions spoke louder than any words ever could. 

“Are you going to explain what this is?” The high pitch in your voice almost made you flinch, and you could see your own hand trembling as you pointed to a wad of money, a burner phone, and a gun. All things you had found hidden in the back of a cabinet while looking for treats for Law's dog, Bepo. 

Law lowered his gaze, looking defeated and ashamed, two things you would never associate with him. 

And it nearly broke you. 

“I don't have a good explanation.”

“How about the truth, then?” 

Law groaned as he took a seat at the kitchen table, gesturing for you to do the same, only to be met with a huff and your arms crossing in defiance. 

“My uncle belongs to the mafia. Owns it, actually. All sorts of shady businesses you can imagine.” He chuckled darkly, a laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes. “And then some.”

“And you?” You couldn't believe what you already knew to be true. Law was a doctor, he saved lives. He couldn't be taking them as well. He couldn't be part of this. He couldn't. 

Your eyes fell back on the gun, on the phone, on the money… 

“I…”

He didn't seem able to say anything else. And you had heard enough. You would never be able to trust him again. 

-*-

“I trust you, Law.” You hope he understands. He can't say anything. Not even if Doflamingo kills you. Law needs to be strong. 

Law grinds his teeth, his eyes locked with yours, burning with fury and determination. You smile at him. He's so strong. 

“I am not the traitor you're looking for, Uncle, but maybe I can help you find them. When you release my girlfriend and stop hurting her.” He takes a step towards Doflamingo, and you see the way his hands flex, like he wants to grab the man and yank him away from you. 

Doflamingo pauses for a moment, his grip loosening slightly as he seems to be lost in thought.

“It's not enough.” He whispers as he finally lets go of your hair. 

Law releases a breath and you gasp for air. 

Then Doflamingo stabs the knife into your shoulder, the blade coming down in a deliberate, arching motion, puncturing your muscle with a sickening sound. The pain is blinding, like nothing else. It radiates down your arm in waves, turning everything too bright and seemingly far away. The wound’s shallow and the knife doesn't seem to have hit anything critical. It’s meant to taunt, not kill. 

You taste blood as you bite your tongue to keep from crying out. You won't give him the satisfaction but mostly, you don't want Law to lose control. 

“Fuck! Doflamingo, stop this nonsense immediately!” Law takes a step forward, determination setting his pace as fury takes hold of him, but Doffy simply uses his other hand to reach for the gun on his back and point it at Law. 

“You stop right there, Law.” Law grunts and halts. You take deep, ragged breaths as your eyes focus back on him, on his gaze, on his pursed lips, and on his clenched jaw. 

“I'm fine…” You stutter. The knife still stands on your shoulder and you're bracing yourself for another wave of blind-hot pain when Doflamingo decides to pull it. 

“You're brave, little girl.” Doffy seems annoyed. “Not. One. Scream.” He emphasizes each word with a slight twist of the knife, and you can't stop the tears. Frankly, it's a miracle you're holding back your screams. “Are you going to speak, Law?”

“I fucking told you all I had to tell you, already! I'm not the one you're looking for! Release her, fuck!”

“You're lying!” Doflamingo shouts, his nostrils flaring in anger as he pulls the knife away from your shoulder, and you finally let out a scream. 

Law calls your name frantically, an urgency in his gaze and you force your head up to look him in the eyes. 

“I'm fine, I'm fine, Law. I'm fine.” You manage to sputter between deep breaths. 

“FUCK!” Law kicks the chair in front of him and it rolls twice before hitting the desk and stopping. He's clearly seeing you're not fine. “Let her go, now!” He takes another step forward and Doflamingo clocks the trigger of the gun, the barrel still pointing straight into Law's head. 

The shiver that assaults you doesn't come from the blood loss. The small whimper that leaves your lips doesn't come from the pain. The tears marring your cheeks aren't for yourself. 

And Doflamingo knows all of this. 

His laugh starts slowly. A low rumble behind your head that crescendos to a manic chuckle, then to an outright insane cackle. 

“Oh, this is precious. This is so good!” Law's hands clench into fists, and he sways unevenly, both wanting to lunge forward and stop your bleeding and forcing himself to stay still so he doesn't anger his uncle anymore. “I've been doing this all wrong.”

Then he steps away from you, sidestepping the plastic so he doesn't get blood on his expensive shoes. Your breath comes out in shallow gasps, each one making the pain in your shoulder travel through your arm in painful throbs.  

Yet you have no time to consider whether the blood you're losing will kill you, because Doflamingo places one arm above Law's shoulders, the gesture familiar and taunting as he smiles at you. 

“She's very brave.” He says, pointing at you casually with his gun. “And you're a tough nut to crack.” He tsks as he turns his head towards Law, one finger pushing against Law's temple. “I can torture her all night, and she'll barely scream. And you're wound up so tight, she could be on her deathbed, and you'd still be in control of your emotions.”

Law's gaze never leaves you, and you're sure he's watching as you wince every time you breathe, as your breaths grow shallower and shallower. 

“Now, what happens if you're the one being tortured, Law?” The barrel of the gun presses against Law's temple, and your breath hitches, your brows furrowing tightly as you trap a gasp. “You won't scream, I know that, but look at her. Look at your little princesa. I bet you don't even need to scream for her to spill all your secrets. Am I right, mi querida?”

You stay silent, lips pursed and eyes locked on Law. 

“I trust you with my life, Law.”

-*-

“Please, just hear what I have to say.”

“You have said enough, Law.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you tried to close the door to your flat. Law’s foot remained wedged between the door and the doorframe, and you pushed further, not caring if you hurt him or not. “Oh, no, wait. You haven’t said anything. You didn’t deny my accusations, which, in a way, was worse.”

You stopped trying to close the door on him, the gesture futile because he was stronger than you. Lacing your arms around your body as if to shield you from his lies, you took two steps back, expecting Law to burst inside your house. Yet all he did was pry the door open, his hands resting on the doorframe as he slumped his shoulders, his head falling forward in such a defeated way you struggled to keep your heart in check. 

“That’s why I’m here. I want to explain it all to you. But I need you to be ready to listen to me.”

“Have you killed people, Law?”

His sigh was soul-shattering, and you gasped, hands flying to your mouth as tears welled up in your eyes. You didn't know him, you didn’t know him at all!

“Can I come in?”

A ragged sob left your lips as you turned your back on him. “Fine.”

You didn’t turn to look at him, but you didn’t have to. The soft click of the door told you he had entered, but his presence always seemed to overwhelm everything else in the room. He hovered near you, yet he didn’t touch you or push your boundaries.

“I never killed anyone. But I never did anything to save them either. So, in a way, I’m an accomplice to those deaths.”

You could almost hear regret tinging his words. He sounded bitter, wounded, and grieved. But was he? 

“How many deaths?” His silence should tell you all you needed to know. “How many, Law?”

“Too many to keep track of.” 

You lost strength in your legs, your trembling hands finding purchase on the nearby table. No more trust, no more love. Could everything be over just like that? 

“Just… please, listen to what I have to say.”

You didn't answer him. But you didn’t stop him either. Instead you took a seat at the table, your head bowed down so as not to look into his hypnotizing amber eyes. 

He had already told you how his family died and how he was raised by his uncles. But he had never told you that his uncle Doflamingo had killed his own brother, Rosinante. You heard every word that Law decided to share with you, trying hard to keep your emotions at bay because you found it hard to hate the man you loved so much. Especially when he was baring his heart, his pain to you. 

He shared all about what his uncle did, the drugs he sold, the people he threatened, the high-profiled VIP’s he kept in his pockets, ready to be played like puppets on a string. Then he got into detail about what he did in the organization. And though he never killed anyone with his own hands, he had tortured and maimed enough to be haunted. 

“Why?” You asked, getting up and ready to throw him out of your house, out of your life for good. Even if you loved him with every fiber of your being. “Why are you still working for him when you know everything he does is evil?”

You watched as his throat bobbed up and down, his hands fidgeting with his phone: a burner phone.

Then his eyes bore into yours, and you couldn’t look away. Not when pain was so evident in them, but that was not what held you trapped in his gaze. It was hope.

No… it was…

“Because I’m spilling all his secrets to the police. I’ve been gathering evidence against him since he killed Cora. I’m going to bring him down, destroy his empire, destroy his mafia, destroy him.”

It was revenge.

-*-

“Trust? Trust is such a wasted sentiment, cariño.” Doffy chuckles before leaning in and whispering into Law’s ear. “She trusts you, Nephew, but do you trust her? Because I don’t. What I trust is that she will spill every little secret she holds dear to her heart once I start hurting you.”

“You wouldn’t!” You cry, using your outburst to release some pent-up pain from your shoulder. 

“Wouldn't what? Hurt my own family?” Another maniacal laugh escapes his lips. “You don’t know me at all, princesa.”

Then, without warning, he points the gun at Law’s thigh and shoots.

It all happens too fast, yet somehow, it replays slowly before your very eyes. The sound of the shot still rings in your ears as Law doubles over in pain, his cry trapped between pursed lips and clenched teeth. The smell of blood mixed with gunpowder is intoxicating and dizzying. 

You can’t bear it.

“STOP!” You scream, thrashing against your restraints as Doflamingo kicks Law’s other leg, causing him to kneel on the floor with a dry thud. “Leave him alone, don’t hurt him, please!”

“Look at the mess you’ve made me cause.” Doflamingo seems disappointed as he looks at his pristine carpet, tainted with the blood of his family. “I love it when you beg, princesa, but that’s not what I want to hear. Spill your secrets.”

-*-

“I can’t do this. He’s going to find out. He suspects already, and if he so much as thinks I’m the one behind it…” Law’s hands cupped your face, his eyes weary as they searched yours. “I haven’t hidden you well enough. He knows you’re my weakness. He will come for you, and I can’t–”

“Law…” You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the irregular drumming of his heart. “Oh, Law, you’re doing the right thing. Don’t doubt yourself. You’re so close! He won’t find out, don’t worry.”

Your lips found his, and he groaned, pulling you against him in a desperate embrace. “I can’t lose you, I can’t. I… God, I love you.”

You thought you had loved before, but the way your heart somersaulted, the way your breath hitched as you tried to breathe, was proof enough that you had never loved as deeply as you did Law. 

“And I love you, Law.” You held him close, your hands tangling in his hair, trying to brush away his feelings of fear and insecurity. “I trust you. You’re doing the right thing. I trust you, Law.”

He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer to him. “How?” A low grunt escaped his lips and he nuzzled his face against your neck, inhaling your scent. “How can you still trust me after everything I’ve done?”

You smiled against his chest, raising your arms to envelop his neck.

“You’re a good man, Law. I’ve known that since the day you saved me instead of leaving me to bleed in the middle of the street. I see it in the way you help people at the hospital, I see it in the way you want to bring justice for Cora. You’re kind, good, whole. I trust you with my life.”

-*-

“Are you going to talk, or should I shoot his other leg?”

Law grunts, ripping the fabric of his jacket to tie it around his thigh, stopping the blood but not the pain. 

“Maybe I’ll just skip to the head and get this over with. If I kill him and the treason stops, then I was right, if it doesn’t…” He shrugs. “Oops.”

“You’re sick!” You spit, your eyes searching Law’s. He shakes his head softly, a silent warning for you to remain silent, but you’re not strong enough. You know you’re not.

“Nobody fucks with my business!” Doffy shoves the barrel of the gun harshly against Law’s head, and you cry out again for him to stop. “And Law should know that better than anyone!”

-*-

“How much longer? Don’t they have enough proof already? What more do they need?” You paced the kitchen, back and forth, hands wringing against each other as your breathing came out in irregular gasps. 

“They say they’re almost ready. Almost.” Law typed away on his computer, his fingers detailing Doflamingo’s latest business. He was using a burner laptop, something that couldn’t be traced, and it was hiding in your flat.

“Almost is not soon enough! Doflamingo is breathing down your neck already. How long until he suspects something? I can’t… Law… what if he kills you?” Your voice broke, and you heard the chair scraping against the floor before Law’s strong arms wrapped around your body, trying to tether you and ground you back. To keep you from spiraling.

“Almost, love. We’ll be free. Soon. Trust me.”

-*-

“You have three seconds, doll.” Doflamingo’s voice sounds dangerous, unhinged, and maniacal. You sob, locking eyes with Law again and shaking your own head. You were never strong enough for this.

You will never be able to live without him.

No matter how selfish that may sound.

“One…” The barrel presses harder against Law’s head. “Two…”

“I love you.” Law whispers as you cry harder, your head falling forward and your shoulders wracking with heavy gasps, not even the pain radiating in your shoulder is strong enough to stop the tears.

“Three.” 

“It was me! It was me! It was always me, not Law! Don’t kill him, don’t! He didn’t know anything about it!”

It’s desperate. It's a hollow lie. But maybe he’ll buy it.

“You?”

“She’s lying! We don’t know anything about it!” Law rages, trying to move, but Doflamingo grips the scruff of his jacket, forcing him still as he steadies the gun against Law's head.

“Well, fuck me.” Doffy states. “Guess you’re going to have to die, then, princesa.”

“No! It’s not her!” Law thrashes and you whimper. 

“Is it you, then?” Doflamingo lowers his head, his lips hovering near Law’s ear. “After all I’ve done for you, after what I’ve taught you, after I’ve raised you? This is how you repay me?” You can't quite discern if what you perceive in Doflamingo's voice is disdain or disbelief. Either way he's upset. And he's taking it out on Law. 

“It’s not him!” You keep pleading, but neither of the men are paying attention to you now. “Doflamingo, listen to me. Leave Law alone!”

Law turns his face to the side, facing Doffy, the most unhinged and satisfied smirk spreading on his lips, even as sweat beads fall from his temple down his face. “It was always me, Uncle. I've wanted you behind bars ever since you killed Cora. I carried on the mission he started. I finished it.”

It’s clear Doflamingo was expecting that confession, but he still looks taken-aback. His smirk turns quickly into a scowl as he bares his teeth. 

“I hate you, Doflamingo. I loathe you with every fiber of my being. And you will rot in prison like the vermin you are.”

Doflamingo straightens up, his throat bobbing up and down as he fixes his glasses and suit. 

“Not before I kill you, dear Nephew.” He sighs heavily. “This was quite the disappointment. Go on, then, go meet my dear brother.” He raises his gun again, the barrel pointed directly at Law’s head and as he speaks, you know he’s addressing you, even though his eyes are locked with his uncle’s.

“I have no regrets. I would do it all over again.”

“Stop… stop… please… anyone… please…” You plead, your chest hurting, your vision blurring. You can’t lose him, you can’t. “Law…”

The bang is deafening. It reverberates around the space, clinging to the room like thick fog. You don’t have any more strength to cry, to shout or even to speak. So you close your eyes, tears dropping in an endless torrent.

It’s over.

It’s all over.

You just hope you’re next so you can meet Law in the afterlife.

…

……

………

“Open your eyes, love. Let me see your wounds, you’re bleeding too much.”

“Law?” It can’t be. “Law! What happened?” You look around the room, Doflamingo is sprawled on the floor, a bullet wound in his forehead, blood dripping in a very thin line and tainting his blond locks. 

“A sniper, I’d guess. The window’s shattered and I heard screaming outside. The police must be storming the place. They’ll find us soon. Keep still.”

But you can’t. You want to hold him, hug him, find out if he’s real. 

“Untie me, Law!” With a soft chuckle he presses his forehead against yours for a second before kissing the same spot and untying your wrists. You don’t mind the sharp stab of pain that travels through your arm or the swell in your chest as you hug Law tight against you.

“You did it, Law. He’s gone. He’s gone.” You manage to say between sobs and kisses.

“He should’ve spent the rest of his life in prison, but I’m not going to complain. You’re alive, love.”

“You’re alive.” You sigh, cupping his cheek in your bloody hands. “I knew my trust wasn’t misplaced. I love you.”

“I love you too.” And when you kiss it's like the world stops spinning, the commotion outside the room disappears and the pain ceases. All that exists, all that matters is Law. And the way he completes you. 

There was a time where you had a lifetime of regrets and yet you had barely lived. Now you have faced death and the inevitability of living a hollow life without the presence of your other half. You've found the person that makes everything worth it and you helped him in his quest for justice and righteousness.

You've lived. 

And you have no regrets left. Only trust.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache

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[viva-mi-vida-puta]

A little help here? Please...?

Jinx x masc!fem!reader

PROMPT: Jinx needs attention... and a little help...

I read over this once, and I apologize if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes.

She pokes her head through the doorway to the little workshop in your shared apartment, "Hey, toots, is it okay if I hang out with you for a bit?" She asks you.

You're looking down at your project, still tinkering with it a bit. "Of course baby, just give me a sec." You respond, placing your little robotic moth down gently and removing your goggles. You carefully put all of your materials away and pull up another chair, setting it beside you before turning to look at her, smiling. You motion for her over to come and sit with you. She happily walks over, completely ignoring the seat you pulled out for her and sits down on your lap. You laugh at her stubbornness and kiss her forehead before lifting her up and setting her on your shared workbench. She snuggles into you and wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you in close.

You chuckle a bit, "What are you doing, baby?" You mumble, playing with her hair. She giggles and pulls away from you so she can look at your face.

"Nothin', I jus' wanted some attention." She gives you her sweetest smile before brushing your hair out of your face and kissing your cheek.

"Oh, really? I TOTALLY couldn't tell babe." You grumbled, leaning down a bit to press a little kiss to the side of her neck. Her body stiffens for a moment and she let out a little soft breath, you place one of your hands on one of her hips and you pull her a bit closer to you, you lean down again and start slowly peppering kisses down her neck, finding her pulse point and lightly sucking.

Her legs squeeze around your waist, and she lightly moans, tilting her head back, silently begging you for more. You kiss all the way from her collar bone, to her neck, stopping to suck her pulse point a little longer before trailing up to her jaw, slowly making your way to her lips before pulling away. She grips your bicep and whimpers, slightly moving her hips, begging for any kind of friction she could find.

You lean in and grab her chin, making her look up at you. She squirms and cowers a bit once your eyes lock with her magenta ones, you let go of her chin and put a hand on her cheek, she averts her gaze from yours, feeling completely embarrassed, Jinx hides her face in your chest. You smile, clearly amused at the embarrassment Jinx is feeling.

You put on a fake little frown, "Aw, doll, am I really that ugly to look at?" You ask, putting a hand on your face while looking in the mirror that resides behind her on the workbench, examining your own facial features, taunting her.

Her heart skips a beat before she starts to choke out words, "What!? Nah toots! You're positively stunnin'! And I-" She babbles on about your beauty, and you just stare at her with a toothy grin on your face as you listen to her confess her undying love attraction for you.

"Baby, you are completely, and utterly the most angelic-" You cut her off by placing a singular finger on her lips and shushing her.

You look into her eyes once more, and her heart starts to race at the feeling of your finger on her lips and the eye contact you were giving her. "Aw, babe, you're makin' me blush." You smile and remove your finger from her lips.

"Since you seem so worked up, maybe you should lie down for a bit, it'll give me some time to finish my work and it'll have you feelin' better, how's that sound, doll?" She huffs, but before she protests, you kiss your pointer and middle finger and press them to her lips for a second before taking them away.

Jinx’s lips part a bit, and she blushes before looking down. She unwrapped her legs from around your waist and scooted off of the work bench. You smile at the effect you have on the shorter woman.

"You'll get a real one if you let me finish up my work, okay?" You say to her, and she nods her head, still trying to hide the blush on her face. She goes to walk away, but you grab her arm, pull her close to you, and whisper in her ear, "Good girl." She freezes then shudders at your praise her eyes are half lidded, burning bright with need, want, and desire, you let go of her and she stands for a second, seemingly recollecting her thoughts before walking towards the doorway, once she reaches it she pauses, she forcing herself to have some self control. Finally, she lets out a shaky breath and strolls out of the room.

You get all of your things out again and start working on them, thinking about what you want to do to your blue haired lover.

{Time Skip}

After what feels like forever, you finally finish your little robotic moths. You stand up and stretch, cracking your knuckles and rolling your neck. "Hey babe! Check it out! I finally finished!" You yell out for Jinx, awaiting her response, but it never comes. Your eyebrows furrow, "Jinx?" You call out as you walk through your shared apartment. You pause once you reach the bedroom door, it's....closed? You press your ear to the door, trying to listen for any sign of life. As soon as your ear touches the door, you hear little moans and whimpers coming from inside. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in, and shivers run down your spine.

You slowly crack open the door, heart pounding out of your chest, you look through the crack, curious as to what you'll find, you feel butterflies in your stomach and your jaw drops, there, in the bed, is Jinx, not sleeping or reading- no, none of the usual stuff, she's completely naked, her long blue hair all frizzy, she's grinding against your pillow, her eyes are squeezed shut in pleasure, she's moaning, whining, hell, even begging for any kind of release.

"Jinx?" You say as you push the door open, slowly walking in. She's so deep in pleasure she doesn't even hear or notice you walking towards her. You touch her shoulder lightly, and she jumps, eyes snapping open and stopping her movement. She looks at you for a few seconds before tossing the pillow to the side and crawling towards you, stopping at the edge of the bed, "Y/N- please baby, I need you so fuckin' badly right now toots." She cries out, pulling you towards her by your belt loops. Your breath hitches as soon as you and her make eye contact, her mascara is running down her face, and her bright magenta eyes burn into you.

You grab her by the throat and she lets go of you, "You look so fuckin' beautiful doll." She smiles and you press a quick kiss to her lips, then slowly take off your clothing, teasing her with every movement, you finally, after what seems like forever to her, crawl into bed, you look down at her, and she stares at you in awe, admiring and taking in every detail of your face.

You gently put a hand on her cheek and pull her into a deep, sensual kiss. She's a bit shocked at first, but kisses back. You both pull apart from each other and look into each other's lust filled eyes before pulling each other in for another kiss, but this time, the kiss is filled with hunger, with love, with lust, she climbs on top of you and you straddle her hips, pulling her closer.

She whimpers a bit as you squeeze her thighs, she wraps her arms around your neck, and you slip your tongue into her mouth, she moans at the feeling, and the kissing starts to get hungrier, and hungrier.

You pull away and kiss her cheek before you whisper in her ear, "I want you so fuckin' badly." You start to kiss down her neck, and she moans, thighs clenching together a bit and you start kissing back up her neck and nibbling on her ear a bit before mumbling softly, "Do you want me to touch you, doll?"

A blush appears on her face, and she nods, "Please toots, please fuck me" you push her back onto the bed and she beckons you with a finger, fuck- she's gonna be the death of you...you slowly climb on top of her.

You pull her into another heated kiss, tongues dancing together and hands wandering and squeezing various places.

"Please, Y/N." She moans out as you give her ass a squeeze and rub her thighs.

"Please, what, love?" You ask, lust laced in your voice, and she starts to grind on your thigh.

"Please touch me." and with that she finds your hands rubbing the back of her thighs, and squeezing her ass once more before putting your hands on her waist, you kiss and suck down her neck to her collar bone, leaving hickeys.

You tease her and grab her face, pulling her in for yet another long, lust filled kiss, letting her take a breath. You slowly and seductively bite her lip, making her squirm. "Only if you'll be a good girl for mommy." You say to her, a bit of mischief in your voice.

She kisses your neck and whispers into your ear, "Anything for you, mommy." You grin and put two fingers to her lips.

"Then be a good girl for me, and get these all nice and wet, won't you?" You have a devilish smirk on your face, and she nods.

"Yes, mommy." She starts to suck on your fingers, swirling her tongue and taking in as much of your fingers as you can. You shiver once she makes eye contact with you while your fingers are down her throat.

"Such a good girl." You remove your fingers and start kissing her neck, down to her breasts. You lick and sucks her nipples, swirling and flicking her tongue on the hardened buds.

You then lay Jinx on her back, putting her legs on your shoulders, she looks up at you and she nods, letting you know to continue, you then takes a long lick of her, savoring the taste of her, your breath hitches as you start to taste her, truly taste her, you stick your tongue into her cunt, licking and tasting every inch your tongue could reach.

"Oh- fuck- mommy!" She moans, "Fuck you feel s' good!" She cries out as her thighs clench around your head. Jinx whimpers as you stop for a second and put two fingers in her. She let out a loud moan as you thrust your fingers in and out of her.

"Mmm...Fuck! Baby, please! Please gimmie me more! Please!" She moans out, begging for more. You start licking and sucking on her clit, and just when she thought it couldn't get better, your fingers thrust faster and deeper, reaching places she couldn't even reach herself.

Her fingers are tangled in your hair as she cries out in pleasure. You curl your fingers inside of her, hitting her g-spot over and over again.

" 'm gonna cum!" She can feel your smile after she cries out in pleasure, you remove your lips from her clit.

"Go on doll, are you gonna be a good girl and cum for mommy?" You coo.

She nods, unable to speak, you go back to sucking on her clit, her legs shake as she cums all over your fingers and you help her ride out her high, she pants as she watches you look at your fingers and lick then suck them clean, moaning a bit at the taste. You lean down and lick up the rest of her cum, she whimpers a bit, legs still shaking at the slight overstimulation.

You give her a soft, loving kiss, "You taste so good, baby." She blushes, and you clean her up.

You hand her a glass of water, "Wait! But what about you? I didn't get to touch you." She asks you, clearly wanting to do more, legs shaking a bit.

"Another time doll, you need sleep." You explain as she pouts and takes a sip of the water before setting it down on the nightstand next to her.

"But next time," You pause, "You can do anything you want with me." You chuckle as she squirms a bit.

You pat her thigh, "Now, off to bed we go, you have important things to do tomorrow." She nods and lays down. You follow soon after.

"Wait, what do I have to do tomorrow that's SO important toots?" You give her a kiss, and she smiles.

"Me."

[maretinelli]

FERRARI COUPLE

Ollie Bearman X driver!fem!reader

Summary: In which Y/n and Ollie are a couple, but they are also part of the Ferrari Driver Academy. And on a relaxed day, they make a video with the media answering some questions from fans.

Words: 4.2K+

Warnings: Ollie in F2, Y/n one of the female drivers from the Ferrari Driver Academy, some suggestive words, funny (??) and cute of course, because they are a couple.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. I think this is cool because it was fun to write. And please request stories on my profile hahaha

MASTERLIST

The environment was cozy and well lit, decorated to give the video a relaxed tone. Ollie and Y/n were sitting side by side on fluffy cushioned chairs, with a table in front filled with colorful beads and threads scattered around. It was a fun scenario, matching their young and spontaneous energy.

Before the recording began, they were talking quietly among themselves, enjoying the moment of tranquility before the questions began. Ollie had his hand resting on Y/n's thigh in a natural way, a gesture so everyday that they didn't even notice it anymore.

"Imagine the questions they'll ask" Ollie commented, with a playful smile. "I bet there will be something like 'who's faster on the track? As if we were going to fall into this trap."

Y/n laughed and then whispered just to him, mischievously, "I just hope it's not about sexual experiences."

Ollie let out a surprised laugh, covering his mouth as he tried to compose himself. Y/n joined in, and the two of them laughed together until someone from the media interrupted them:

"Okay, guys, let's start recording!"

They quickly arranged themselves in the chair, and Ollie removed his hand from her leg, straightening his posture. The media lady nodded and gave the signal for them to begin.

Ollie smiled for the camera. "I'm Ollie Bearman."

"And I'm Y/n Bearman-" Y/n said automatically, but as soon as the words were out, they both started laughing. "Bullshit. I'm Y/n Robbins."

"And we're drivers from the Ferrari Driver Academy!" For a second, they looked at each other, surprised by the synchronicity and instinctively clapped hands in a quick greeting.

"We just high-fived like two bros." Ollie grimaced amusedly, looking at Y/n with an air of disbelief. "It was weird, since we're a couple and already..." He stopped mid-sentence when he saw Y/n's eyes widen at him like a warning, and Ollie smiled at the camera, looking away naturally. "We came here to answer some questions from our fans!"

Y/n laughed, nodding. "And let's make bracelets while we answer!"

She took the box of beads and placed it in the center of the table, separating the colored strands for each one.

"I think they asked us to make bracelets while we answer so they can make sure we're giving the truthful answer" Ollie joked, grabbing a handful of beads.

Y/n tilted her head, processing the logic, and then nodded. "Oh, right! That makes sense!"

Ollie smiled in satisfaction, and Y/n opened the larger box with more bead options, spreading them out in front of him. "Okay, we're ready. Bombard with questions."

The first question appeared on the screen:

"Who took the initiative in the relationship?"

Y/n laughed for a moment alone, remembering how Ollie was very insistent in asking her out, but that she wasn't far behind with the flirting either.

"I guess that answer depends on who you ask" he said first, giving Y/n an amused look.

Y/n raised her eyebrows and laughed. "What do you mean? You took the initiative!"

"I'd say it was mutual" Ollie replied, shrugging.

Y/n shakes her head, laughing, but concentrating on putting the beads on the white string she had picked up. "No, love. At first, you were so nervous while talking to me that you stuttered and made it seem like you were forcing me to go out with you." She smiles. "Like, that day at the go-kart track, remember? You said something like 'I... I... I'd really like to but only if you want, of course! I mean, you don't have to! But I'd love to wait, do you want to go to dinner with me?'"

Ollie covered his face with his hands. "Oh my God, do you remember that?" The whole room laughed.

"Yes." She smiles, as if the memory was from yesterday. And not almost five years ago.

"But I wasn't that obvious!"

"Sorry, love. It was." She slaps his thigh, which is still covered by his tracksuit.

Y/n looked directly at the camera and wordlessly raised an eyebrow, as if expecting the audience to agree with her. Ollie let out a laugh, shaking his head.

"Okay, maybe I was a little obvious," he admitted, adjusting the thread in his hand. "But it was because I wanted to make sure you knew I liked you."

Y/n smiled, her expression softening. "I knew it."

"And you flirted back too!"

"Yes. Only I was less obvious than you." She chuckled softly. "I was direct, but I knew how to hide it."

The two looked at each other for a second, exchanging a knowing look, before Ollie cleared his throat and fiddled with the beads again. "So the official answer is that I took the initiative?"

"Yes" Y/n said with conviction.

Ollie sighed dramatically. "Okay, okay. I took the initiative. But I don't regret it one bit."

Y/n laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly. "I know. I love you!"

Ollie smiled shyly and lowered his head, fiddling with the beads. "I love you too," he said quietly.

They were those couples who showed a lot of affection, but in public Ollie held back a little and was shy, as for Y/n, she really liked to tease. Which ended up being left for her in bed later.

Y/n tilted her head and whispered back, "Speak louder, Bearman. The audience wants to hear."

Ollie laughed and shook his head. "I love you, annoying."

Y/n smiled in satisfaction. "Now yes."

When the next question appeared on the screen, Ollie and Y/n immediately perked up. They thought it would only be questions about their relationship.

"If you had to compete against each other in a race for a prize, what would you choose as the prize?"

He turned to Y/n with a challenging smile. "Easy. If I win, you'll have to let me drive your Ferrari for two months!"

Y/n let out a laugh. "No way!"

Ollie knew how overprotective Y/n was of the Ferrari she had at home. Only she drove, and occasionally Ollie, but she had to be in the passenger seat. As if he didn't know how to drive a car and didn't have a Ferrari like that at his parents' house.

“See? You’re already afraid of losing it.” He teased, picking up some beads and putting them on the string.

Y/n crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Ollie, feigning indignation. "Scared? I just don't want you destroying my pet car."

Ollie put a hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. "I'm literally a professional racer. You think I'm going to crash your car?"

She shrugged. "I think you're going to speed up more than you should."

The media crew laughed along with them, and Ollie rolled his eyes before pointing at her. "Okay, but what about you? If you win, what will your prize be?"

Y/n gave a mischievous smile. "If I win... you'll have to spend at least two hours a day massaging me!"

Ollie blinked, looking genuinely surprised. "TWO HOURS?"

Y/n nods. "Two hours. Full body."

She said innocently, but when she looked up, Ollie was already smirking at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Y/n immediately realized what he was getting at and pointed at the camera, raising her voice.

"Three and a half hours! Massage. ONLY."

Ollie laughed, leaning back in his chair as if in surrender. "Lucky we're not really competing, I'd only be at a loss."

Y/n laughed out loud, and the media crew joined in. Ollie then picked up some beads and pretended to be extremely focused on them.

"You know what? I better focus on the bracelet. I know there's no way I can lose this."

"Which habit of the other was the hardest to get used to?"

"Ollie's delay" Y/n answers first.

Ollie's eyes widened and he laughed. "Calm down! I couldn't even finish reading the question!"

"Ollie being late was definitely one of the hardest things to get used to in the beginning of our relationship." Y/n begins. "Because look at that. He's still in his workout gear, and I'm all smelling nice and pretty right here. He probably got out of the car and flew all the way here because he was late."

Ollie just looks at the camera and nods, because that's exactly what happened. He had forgotten about the video with the Ferrari media people and when he looked at his watch he was already late.

"I surrender. That's true!" He holds up his hands. "But hey! I'm changing, aren't I?" Ollie turns to his girlfriend and she smiles.

"True! He's changed a lot since the beginning of our relationship until now with these delays." She sends him a loving smile, without teasing or evidence of teasing. "Now go, a difficult habit of mine that was difficult for you to get used to."

"When you get our double bed all to yourself"

Y/n laughed loudly, knowing she took up a lot of space while she slept. "Details, dear!"

Ollie turns to the camera and places his hands on the table, leaving his beaded necklace aside. "Seriously, when she sleeps she uses the entire bed. Her arms are on my face, her legs are on my stomach. I have inches of space to sleep." He says with a smile. "One of these days I'm going to measure how far I sleep from the bed and share it with you."

Y/n puts her hand on her face laughing.

"There was one time during a race that the only room in the hotel that they gave us was the one with two single beds. And we, like a very much in love couple, put the two beds together to sleep next to each other, right?!" He turns to his girlfriend and she agrees laughing, remembering the day. "We lay down and she fell asleep, not even five minutes later, she was already invading the bed I was in. That night I had to sleep on the floor!"

"WHAT? You slept on the floor?" She asks scared, not knowing this part. Her heart breaks a little.

Ollie laughed at her reaction. "Yeah, and you didn't even notice!"

"Why didn't you wake me up or push me aside?" Y/n says in a worried tone and Ollie smiles at that.

"Oh, it's okay. I grabbed some extra pillows and pulled the covers off you and you slept well." He teases and Y/n rolls her eyes but smiles.

"Okay, I'll change that, I don't want you sleeping on the floor anymore!" She slaps her hand on his thigh again.

"Nah. I'm dealing with it now. It's been a while since I slept on the floor or couch in our apartment." Ollie places his hand on top of his girlfriend's hand and she smiles.

"Okay...next question!" She says a little quietly, while holding Ollie's gaze a little longer than she should.

"What was the funniest moment you've ever spent together?"

When the question appeared on the screen, Y/n and Ollie looked at each other, already holding back laughter.

"There are so many stories..." Y/n said thoughtfully. "But I think the funniest one was the elevator one."

Ollie immediately started laughing. "Oh my God, that was a bad one for me!"

"So, let me tell you!" Y/n clapped her hands excitedly and turned to the camera. "We were on vacation in Switzerland, and when we got back to the hotel, Ollie said he forgot his room card in the room when we left. So he went down to the reception to get another one, but he was barefoot, because he said the sneakers he was wearing hurt. So he left me waiting at the door of the room, with his shoes in my hand..."

Ollie shook his head, embarrassed. "So far, so good. The problem was on the way back."

"He entered the elevator, alone, holding the new card in his hand, but when the doors were closing, a lady entered too..."

Ollie was already laughing before Y/n finished her sentence.

"Then he, being super polite, smiled at her and said: 'Hi, how are you?' But as soon as the elevator opened for him to leave..."

"I STOPPED ON MY OWN FOOT AND FELL!" Ollie finished, covering his face.

The team burst out laughing.

"And it wasn't a normal fall!" Y/n emphasized, crying with laughter. "He tried to hold on to the elevator wall, but he slipped even more and ended up on the floor, lying down, with the room card flying to my feet, which was waiting for him at the room door and watching the whole scene."

"And the lady was just looking at me like, 'Oh my God, is this kid okay?'" Ollie added, laughing along. "I was on the floor for about three seconds, trying to decide whether to get up quickly or pretend to pass out to avoid the embarrassment."

Y/n lets out a loud laugh. "I didn't know whether to help him or keep laughing with his sneakers in my hands.

Ollie took a deep breath and turned to the camera. "Moral of the story: never go barefoot and distracted to get a room card. You might end up lying in the elevator."

Y/n sits up straight in her chair, gasping for air to catch the breath that the laughter had taken from her. Ollie waited for Y/n to compose herself, but when she looked at him again, a mischievous smile appeared on her lips.

"Now imagine the scene from the lady's point of view." Y/n said, laughing again. "She just got into the elevator, and out of nowhere she saw a barefoot guy sprawling on the floor, with a card flying through the air!"

Ollie shook his head, laughing. "And the worst part is, when I got up, I tried to play it off and pretend like nothing happened. Like, I just straightened my shirt and said, 'I'm going... my girlfriend's waiting.'"

The team burst into laughter again, and Y/n slammed the table. "I can't believe I'm dating this man!"

Ollie smiled and shrugged. "Well, you already knew what I was like before we started the relationship. So, no complaints!"

Y/n took a deep breath, still smiling, and turned to the camera. "Next question, before I burst out laughing again."

"If you had to describe your relationship with a movie or series, what would it be?"

Ollie and Y/n looked at each other for a moment, already knowing exactly what the answer would be. "Brooklyn Nine-Nine!" They said at the same time, before starting to laugh.

"Our relationship is basically Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago, Competitive, passionate and a little chaotic."

Y/n nodded excitedly. "Exactly! I'm more organized and like to plan things, like Amy. And you..." She looked at him with an amused smile. "Well... you're Jake. Chaos."

Ollie put his hand on his chest, pretending to be offended. "Hey, I'm a functional mess! Jake's awesome too."

"Yeah, but you also make up random competitions out of thin air!" Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes. "Like that time we were at the grocery store and you decided that whoever got all the items on the list first would get massages from the other for a week?"

Ollie smiled with satisfaction. "And I won, because I'm a strategist."

Y/n arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "You cheated! You took half the stuff from an absent-minded lady's cart!"

The team burst out laughing, and Ollie shrugged, trying to hold back his laughter. "All is permitted in war and love."

Y/n shook her head, laughing. "But at the end of the day, we balance each other out. Just like Jake and Amy. And despite the craziness, I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Yes. I have my Amy Santiago and I wouldn't trade it for anything." Ollie looks in love. Which would result in many cute comments on the video later.

Y/n smiled sideways at Ollie's words, feeling her heart warm at the affectionate way he looked at her. Without saying anything, she just squeezed his hand on the table, sliding her thumb gently against his skin.

"Okay. Next question..."

"What is the greatest proof of love that one has ever done for another?"

Y/n looked away to Ollie, already feeling a lump forming in her throat. "I think when I had that accident and you spent days in the hospital with me. And we were only five months into our relationship."

Ollie smiled, looking at his girlfriend and seeing that her eyes were shining brighter because of the tears. The room was silent for a moment. Y/n blinked a few times, feeling the weight of the memory.

"Do you remember anything from that day?" He asked softly.

She took a deep breath before responding. "Just flashes... I remember waking up in the hospital, but I was so groggy I don't even know what happened before."

Ollie nodded and squeezed her hand lightly, as if to anchor her there, in the present. "Well... I remember everything." Y/n felt her chest tighten when she saw the seriousness in his eyes. "I was on the pit wall watching the race. It was quick, but at the same time it seemed like an eternity. The radio went silent, and all I could see was his wrecked car. No one said anything, just the sound of sirens..." Ollie looked away at the table, swallowing hard before continuing. "I ran to the medical center, but no one let me in. They just said you were being taken to the hospital. And I followed."

Y/n felt her eyes well up. She could imagine the scene perfectly, as if she were watching a movie. She continued to put the beads on the string, to disguise the pain she was feeling now.

"I was there the whole time," he continued, turning back to look at her. "I didn't even notice the hours passing. I just wanted to know if you were going to be okay. I don't think I really took a breath until the doctors said the surgery was a success and that you were going to recover."

She pressed her lips together, trying to hold back the tears, but one eventually escaped. Ollie smiled slightly and wiped her face with his thumb.

"You were there for days" Y/n muttered, her voice a little choked.

"Of course I did," he replied without hesitation. "I wasn't going to leave you alone, love."

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Didn't even go out to take a shower..."

Ollie shrugged. "I knew you'd complain about it later, but at the time it didn't matter. All I wanted was to make sure you woke up and that I was there when you did."

Y'n felt a warm wave of emotion wash over her. Without a second thought, she leaned over and wrapped Ollie in a tight hug, hiding her face in his shoulder. Not caring about the camera at the moment.

"I love you" she whispered against his shirt.

Ollie smiled and kissed the top of her head. "I love you too. And now, if anyone ever asks, you can be sure that was the greatest proof of love I've ever given."

Y/n stands up laughing, "Yes. Yes it was, love!"

Everyone was silent, absorbing that confession that almost no one knew. Ollie smiled at the camera and picked up the string with the beads.

"Let me see if it fits your wrist." He measures it and Y/n sees the black and red beads. "That's it. Let me put some letters on it now!"

Y/n laughs. "Okay. Let's move on to the next question, before I cry now." They laugh. "From crying with laughter to crying with sadness, big transformation"

Ollie laughs, putting on a letter O bead.

"What was the most embarrassing situation you've ever been in together?"

The two looked at each other and started laughing in embarrassment. It was as if they shared their neurons and remembered the same things when the questions were asked.

"We can't tell that..." Y/n confesses, feeling her cheeks blush.

Ollie shakes his head. "No, we can't tell you. But it was really embarrassing. I think we traumatized your older brother back then." The pilot looks at his girlfriend.

Y/n lets out a laugh. "He didn't talk to me for a week." She confesses and Ollie smiles. And then she looks at the camera. "All I can say is... we thought we were alone in the house... in the room and my brother came in. That's all."

She laughs embarrassedly.

"JUST!" Ollie informs and they laugh..

"Have you ever had a silly fight that you now find funny?"

"Oh, that's an easy one!" Ollie said, leaning his elbows on the table. "The ice cream fight."

Y/n put her hands on her face, laughing. "Oh my God, I can't believe we're going to tell this."

"Now you have to tell!" Someone from the media team encouraged.

Ollie took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for a big story. "So, we went out to dinner, everything was beautiful, the weather was great. On the way back home, we stopped to get ice cream. Y/n got hers strawberry and chocolate, I got mine cookies and cream." He said, taking his girlfriend's wrist again to measure the length of the thread.

"So far so good," Y/n added, nodding.

"But in the car, while I was driving, I offered her some of my ice cream..." Ollie sighed dramatically. "But then, when I asked for a piece of her ice cream, what happened?"

Y/n covered her face, laughing. "I said 'no'."

The team burst out laughing, and Ollie threw up his hands in outrage. "She said no! I offered her mine, but when I asked for hers, she said no without even thinking!"

"Guys, but it was the last part with more chocolate syrup, it wasn't enough!" Y/n defended herself, still laughing.

"It was the most random fight in the world" Ollie shook his head. "We spent about ten minutes in the car discussing 'sharing equally' and 'respecting the last sacred bites'."

"In the end, I bought him another ice cream because I felt sorry for him" Y/n admitted.

"And I accepted, because I'm an understanding person," Ollie said, all smug.

"Understanding, nothing! You only accepted because you wanted more ice cream" Y/n scoffed, pushing his shoulder lightly.

"That too" Ollie laughed, lacing his fingers with hers under the table. "But seriously, that day felt like a terrible fight, but now it doesn't make sense.

"Not at all." Y/n laughs, focused on the bracelet she was making.

"What's the cutest thing you do for each other on a daily basis?"

Ollie smiled before answering. "Every time I get home after a tiring day, Y/n already makes me a cup of tea or hot chocolate, depending on the weather. And no matter the time, even if it's late, she always waits up until I get home."

Y/n smiled, a little embarrassed, but clearly happy with the answer. "Well, I like taking care of you."

"And I love that," Ollie said, looking at her fondly. "But the sweetest thing you do for me is that when you wake up before me, you always tuck me in tighter and give me a kiss on the forehead before you get out of bed."

The media team gave a loud "Awww."

Y/n laughed, hiding her face in her hands. "Oh, how embarrassing, why did you notice that?"

"Because I always wake up in those moments," Ollie replied, holding her hand under the table. "And also because it's the cutest thing ever."

Y/n pursed her lips, trying not to smile so much, but failing miserably. "Okay, then it's my turn now! The cutest thing Ollie does on a daily basis is that he always sends me random messages saying he loves me or asking if I ate right."

"Y/n forgets to eat sometimes!" Ollie defended himself, laughing.

"I get busy, it happens!" Y/n shrugged.

"And that's why I always ask, because if it depends on her, lunch becomes a snack and dinner becomes breakfast," Ollie explained.

Y/n rolled her eyes, but her smile showed that she loved this care.

"Oh! And there's one more thing!" Y/n remembered, laughing. "If I'm driving and he's in the passenger seat, he always puts his hand on the gearshift, even when he doesn't need to change gears, just to hold my hand while I drive."

Ollie smirked, not denying anything. "It's a reflex."

"It's cute!" Y/n corrected, squeezing his hand under the table.

"Okay, so I guess we're tied for daily cuteness," Ollie joked.

"Sure thing," Y/n agreed, her eyes shining.

The team smiles and one of them says, "Okay guys. Our last question now!"

"But already?" Y/n looks at the media and they smile.

Ollie smiles and then takes his girlfriend's wrist, tying the bracelet with the remaining thread and smiles satisfied with his work. Y/n looks and sees a bracelet with black and red beads with the word 'Ollie' in letter beads.

She laughs a little and turns to him. "Amazing!"

"Isn't it?!" Ollie jokes and she laughs.

"Have you talked about marriage?"

Ollie smiled at the question. He turned to Y/n and, with a caring tone, replied: "Well, I guess we've talked, haven't we? It wasn't that long ago, actually."

Y/n gave a shy smile, blushing a little. "Yeah, we've talked about it a little. Lately even more... we've already started to imagine what it will be like."

Ollie chuckled softly. “I’m definitely more of a… romantic, I guess. I’ve always wanted a big ceremony, but maybe we can do something more intimate. I just know one thing: I want it to be with you. No matter what, you’re going to be my wife.”

Y/n looked at him with a sweet smile. "I think what matters in the end is being together, whether it's with big plans or something simple. We'll find a way to do something special."

Ollie nodded, taking her hand. "Yes, the important thing is that the wedding is about the two of us. And how we love each other."

They exchanged meaningful glances, the kind of conversation that seemed simple but was full of emotions and silent promises. The crew smiled at them. Ollie and Y/n were the most passionate couple in Ferrari.

Someone from the media nods, so that they can finish recording.

"I guess that's it then," she begins. Tying on the bracelet she had made during the interview. "I hope we didn't scare you with some of the answers."

Ollie laughs, leaning his elbows on the table and then sees Y/n hand him the bracelet. It had pink beads and the word 'Mi amore'. The nickname he called Y/n on a daily basis, ever since they started dating. Years ago.

He smiles and glances quickly at her. Before turning to the camera and ending the video as well.

"So that's it guys. Thanks for watching!"

Y/n waves her hand and blows a kiss in the air. With that, the crew approaches the camera, turns it off and smiles, saying that it was over and how well they did.

"We should do this more often." Y/n smiles, picking up the beads that were scattered on the table. "Just try not to start talking about our sexual experience next time."

Ollie laughs out loud. "Okay. I'll try not to think about that when we're answering the questions."

Y/n smiles and closes the bead box, but notices that Ollie was still looking at her. "What it was?"

"Admiring my girlfriend. May I?" The pilot gets ready and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"You can." She smiles and Ollie gives her a quick peck on the lips.

They got up from their chairs and walked over to one of the media people, handing them the box of beads as they thanked them for agreeing to the idea. Ollie and Y/n smiled, saying that they were glad they made the video.

Leaving the room, Ollie holds his girlfriend's hand, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before starting to talk about random things that happened that day.

Y/n just smiled, knowing that regardless of the cameras, the spotlights and everything around them, they would always just be Ollie and Y/n and that was enough.

[feyunir]

Emmrich's Journal #1

Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

This one was fun to make. I'm not sure I capture Emmrich well, but this will be *my* Emmrich.

I like to think he makes little illustrations in his journals.

[justanothermemestrider]

Nothing Ever Stays Dead - Part 8

Sgt Gadriel x Childhood Friend OC

Second to last part, guys. We're at the penultimate chapter. If you need to catch up, or this is the first of this series that you're seeing, head over here to see the masterlist.

No warnings for this one other than for spelling and grammar mistakes (there's always a handful that slip past me haha)

Thank you for reading and please enjoy :) and if you do enjoy, then please, leave a comment! I love receiving and reading them ❤️❤️❤️

Gadriel's eyes drift open.

The face of a ceiling greets him. Tall, grey, lined with thick, twisting pipes that weave between decorative gothic archways.

Sharp-shaped chandeliers spew harsh white light, stinging his eyes and making his temples ache.

Gadriel furrows his brow. He recognises this place. In fact, it looks an awful lot like...

"Gadriel?"

A voice to his right. Male. Baratone. Familiar.

Is that...

Slowly, Gadriel turns his head.

Sitting at his bedside, wrapped in a simple black robe, is another Astartes. His skin is dark; his face noble, but kind. The enormous scar running up the left side of his head is new, but even so, Gadriel would recognise him anywhere.

"Chairon."

His squadmate smiles. "The Emperor protects," he says warmly.

Gingerly, Gadriel eases himself upright. The right side of his abdomen aches at the movement, but he manages it with a clenched jaw. "You're..." He murmurs to Chairon. "You're alive."

"As are you, brother. Though, if you don't mind my saying, that is by far the greater revelation of the two."

Gadriel smiles ruefully. Carefully, he touches his side, where the throbbing is most potent. He's naked from the waist up, and as such, he can feel the taut, ribbed skin where the harpoon wounds have started to scar over. Dark bruises blot the skin around them, as do little red marks from where the Apothecary must have had him plugged into life support machinary.

"You've been out for a couple of days now," Chairon says gently. "The Apothecary said he'd never seen a space marine loose so much blood. The lieutenant filled me in on everything that'd happened. It sounded awful, Gadriel. Truly awful."

His sympathy tugs at Gadriel in a way he did not expect. "Well, it certainly wasn't pleasant," he answers wryly. "But by all accounts, it could have been worse."

Chairon leans forwards to clasp Gadriel on the shoulder. "Indeed, brother. Indeed."

As he says this, there is a graveness in his voice. The same reluctance one might hear in someone withholding dire news from a loved one. Slowly, a thick heavy knot is forming in Gadriel's stomach. "Listen, Gadriel," Chairon says. "The lieutenant... he told me."

"Told you what?"

Chairon doesn't answer. His silence, however, is answer enough.

"Before you say anything," he eventually says. "Do not worry. While I... cannot claim to relate to your situation, I've spent enough time with the mortals to know what love is, even if only as a conception."

He gives Gadriel's shoulder a squeeze. "I can imagine what you might feel for this woman, how strong those feelings are in spite of what she is in the eyes of the law. I sympathise with you, Gadriel. Both you and her."

Gadriel's throat tightens. "Thank you, brother," he whispers.

Releasing his shoulder, Chairon nods.

"Do you know where she is?" Gadriel asks him.

Chairon frowns. "I..." He trails off into a sigh. Suddenly, the tightness in Gadriel's throat isn't from affection anymore.

"Chairon-"

"Titus wanted to tell you himself, but he was called away."

"Chairon," Gadriel says again. Half as loud, but double the menace. "Where is she?"

His brother looks at him sadly. "You're not going to like this..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Arrested?!”

Titus glances up from the data slate in his hand. “Gadriel,” he says, surprised. “I did not know you were awake. The Apothecary said-”

“She saved my life, Titus!” Gadriel snarls. “She helped you save me!”

The lieutenant sighs. Like Gadriel, he is in casual attire; dark breeches, a light, loose fitting shirt. He’s in his quarters, sitting on the edge of his bunk. Placing the date slate down beside him, he pushes himself to his feet with a tired grunt. “I understand that you are angry-”

“Angry?” Gadriel’s blood roars as he clenches his fists tight. “Titus, I am livid-”

“-but do not forget your place,” Titus finishes sternly. “I am still your superior officer. You will speak to me as such.”

Gadriel bites the inside of his cheek. As good a friend as he considers Titus, his talk of protocol and rank right now grate him to the bone. “I need to see her,” he says. “Tell me where she is.”

“I can’t allow that yet.”

“Why?”

Titus answers slowly, like he’s choosing his words with care. “Because at this time, I am the only officer aware of her existence. And until you and I have had a chance to speak, I want to keep it that way.”

That gives Gadriel pause. “You… You haven’t…”

“I am not blind, Gadriel,” Titus says. “Neither to what she means to you, nor to everything you said when you first stepped in here. But, I cannot say the same about our superiors. And I certainly cannot say it for our chaplain, at the very least.”

Slowly, the sound of blood roaring in his ears starts to fade. Uncurling his fists, Gadriel exhales sharply through his nose. Then, he strides over to Titus, turns and plonks himself down on the edge of the lieutenant’s bunk.

“By the Golden Throne,” he mutters.

The bunk creaks as Titus sits beside him. “The moment we arrived in the hangar, I had Talasa escort her straight to my quarters,” he explains. “There, she remained while I saw to it that you were treated and Captain Acheron was debriefed- though obviously, I did not tell him about Ellie. After that, I personally moved her to a solitary confinement cell in the brig. It sounds cruel, I know. But they are the only cells without bars, and therefore the only ones where she could remain unseen.” Titus pauses then. He has more to say, Gadriel can tell, but it seems the words are causing him issues. “I… had the magos investigate her implants,” he finally says. “Discreetly, of course. But what he reported was dire to say the least.”

“How so?” Gadriel asks.

“Apparently, much more than merely her arm and leg are necronian.”

Gadriel already knows that somewhat; Ellie had mentioned it when explaining how her cybernetics had slowed her aging, made her more resilient. But he does not know the full extent of it. “Can you elaborate?”

Titus sighs. ���If the magos is to be believed- which I think he is- up to eighty-percent of her internals have some kind of xenos taint. Including organs, blood, bones and even parts of her brain. As far as science is concerned, she’s more necron than-”

“Don’t,” Gadriel hisses. “I get it. But do not speak of her like that."

Titus’ jaw clenches slightly, but he lets the outburst go. “Like everything else about her, I’ve kept it to myself. The magos has also sworn his secrecy. She’s been in solitary ever since. Waiting for you to wake up and… for me to figure out what to do.”

Gadriel puts his head in his hands. This is worse than he thought. So much worse.

Oh Ellie…

A beat of tense silence passes between them. So too are a dozen unspoken things. The largest of which weighs on Gadriel like a noose cast from lead. Eventually, it is also the one which Titus chooses to voice. “I don’t have many options here, brother. And the longer she remains a secret, the fewer even those options become.”

Gadriel drops his hands from his face, but does not look up. Instead, he simply stares at his palms.

“When we were on the Dark Star, she told me what had happened to her. What Severus had done.” Old anger bubbles up the back of his throat, but with a bite to his lip, Gadriel leashes it. “She was his slave, Titus. Even the xenos implants she has- she did not take them willingly. Severus cut her up and stuffed her with them- he butchered her. She is as much his victim as anyone else he’s kidnapped or murdered.”

“I believe you,” Titus says. “But you and I both know that the laws of our Imperium aren’t open to such nuance.”

Gadriel closes his eyes. As if by not looking, he might be able to make it not true. He knows better than that. He knows it better than most. But he feels… he feels…

“Sergeant?” Titus asks.

Gadriel shakes his head. “I can’t lose her, Titus,” he says quietly.

Gently, Titus clasps his shoulder. “I’m sorry, brother. Truly, I am.” He pauses as if meaning to add more, but it seems he can come up with nothing else.

Gadriel doesn’t answer. He can’t even muster the energy to meet his lieutenant’s eye.

“Your serfs have already prepared your quarters for your return,” Titus eventually says. “But, if you would like, you can remain here as long as you need.” His hand falls from Gadriel’s shoulder, and the bunk gives another creak as he stands. “But I fear I must leave you. There is… much I need to do.”

Gadriel hears the automatic door slide open. Before Titus can leave, though, he finally looks up again. “Titus.”

The lieutenant stops, turns around.

Gadriel stares at him with cold intention. “I won’t let them execute her.”

“Gadriel-”

“I meant what I said; I can’t lose her. I won’t. Even if it means standing against you and my brothers, I will not lose her.”

Titus looks at his brother with sadness in his eyes. “I sincerely hope it won’t come to that.” He leaves, after that, the door slamming shut in his wake.

**********************************************

As far as solitary confinement cells go, the one aboard the Resilient is really quite nice. There’s a bunk and a chair; even a genuine lavatory with a basin to wash her hands. It’s clean, she’s served a decent meal twice a day, and the lights turn on and off at regular day-night cycle, giving her a sense of the passage of time. It’s leagues above a Drukhari holding cell; even above the quarters that Severus had had her sleeping in. If her mind were a little more still, Ellicent might even find herself savouring her stay here.

But her mind is not still. It's a raging storm. Anxiety is the rain, and panic is the wind. She doesn’t know if Gadriel is alive; what’s going to happen to him. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen to her; if she is to be executed, tortured, turned into a servitor. Just the other day, an ad-mech magos dropped in to run endless scans on her, bringing a new, horrifying potential fate for her to contemplate; being cut open and biopsied in the name of science.

Ellicent hasn’t slept for days. Hasn’t eaten in longer, despite the decent meals. She spends every day and night curled up on her bunk, laying on her side with her knees to her chest. At first, she cried. When she ran out of energy for that, she simply lay there. Catatonic. Dead to the outside world. Hunkering down against an invisible storm.

When her cell door slides open, she doesn’t even open her eyes.

“Ellie? It’s me. Lieutenant Titus.”

Ellicent’s voice is hoarse from disuse. “Are you here to kill me?” she mutters.

“Not yet,” he admits.

Ellicent smirks to herself. “I appreciate the honesty, harsh as it is.”

Titus hasn’t a reply for that.

“How’s Gadriel?” she asks quietly.

“He’s alright. Woke up just a few hours ago.”

Ellicent’s relief is the first positive thing she’s felt since arriving here. It’s enough to drive her to tears. “The Emperor hasn’t abandoned me yet,” she whispers.

“He’s deathly worried about you,” Titus adds. “He told me outright he’d betray the Ultramarines if it meant keeping you alive.”

That makes Ellicent open her eyes. “He’s not in trouble for that, is he?”

“If his superior were anyone else other than me, then yes, he would be. And you would likely be already dead.”

Lifting her head, Ellicent pushes herself upright. Her hair is out, falling past her shoulders and gathering around her waist in tangled curtains of scarlet. She drags it out of her face, then turns around to face the lieutenant. He’s out of his armour, but no less intimidating. Standing in front of her now-closed cell door, his arms are folded across his chest and his gaze is as hard as stone. Ellicent crosses her legs in front of her. Hugs her remaining arm around her middle. “What makes you so different, then?” she asks.

Titus’ jaw clenches slightly. He does not answer right away. “There are… two reasons,” he finally says. “Both of which are personal.”

“Well, this will be interesting.”

Titus shoots her an unamused look, but continues nonetheless. “First of all, I empathise with you two. I myself have a… partner.”

Ellicent blinks. “Seriously?”

Titus nods. He does not, however, elaborate further. “Therefore, I understand what my brother feels for you. For me to not acknowledge that would be- as Gadriel himself put it- hypocrisy.”

“What’s the second reason?” Ellicent asks.

“That would be what I know of Gadriel. Not just as a friend, but as a soldier.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Briefly, Titus averts his eyes. “Sergeant Gadriel- at least, from what I have gleaned from my time with him- is not… generous with his trust.”

Ellicent smirks. “Yeah. Him and everyone else who grew up in an underhive.”

“Even so, it is no less true. Suspicion comes naturally to him. If he believes there to be the smallest sign of betrayal- even if it is imagined- he will hold onto it. Even act on it.”

“Still not seeing your point here,” Ellicent says.

“My point,” Titus says. “Is that if Gadriel, of all people, was willing to lay down his life to protect you, to betray his chapter and his mission just to see you again, that says a lot. Not only about the depth of his regard for you, but about your trustworthiness and your pureness of heart.”

Now, it’s Ellicent’s turn to avert her gaze.

“So, where does that leave us, then?” she asks. “Me and Gadriel, I mean?”

The Ultramarine lets out a tired sigh. “That is a very good question.”

“You got an answer, yet?”

“I…I may.” Unfolding his arms, Titus leans back against the cell door, slipping his hands into the pockets of his breeches. “That is why I’m here, in fact. To discuss it with you.”

Ellicent bites her lip in thought. Her own sense of suspicion is beginning to rise, now. But what other choice has she got?

Shit. How many times have I said that in the last fifty years?

Running her hand through her hair, she scowls. Not at Titus, but rather, her situation.

Whatever he’s proposing, it can’t be worse than Severus. Surely, it can’t be worse.

“Fine,” she replies. “Tell me, then. What are you thinking?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Just one part left, guys. Will our couple be allowed to stay together? Or will they be yet another 40k tragedy?

Stay tuned to find out!

Taglist: @solspina @beckyninja @egrets-not-regrets @wolf-feathers12 @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @moodymisty @hatsubara-8chan @nereidof40k @yanagikou @fyxestroll @yurihasurunbara @lylakoi @passionofthesith @finchly-tintinnabulation @justfreakynothingelse

[wowowokay]

Here are some more fic recs!!!

New Phone Who- Oh Shit..! - Life_Caretaker

Okay ngl I haven’t read the last chapter yet BUT it I remember this fic being absolutely hilarious basically Tim answers the phone and they other person is trying to get into contact with red hood obviously wrong number but Tim just goes with it pretending to be the secretary

Words: 14,327 Chapters: 4/4

Flame Test - heartslogos

Okay I know some people might not be a fan of this pairing but I like this fic so shhh plus if you don’t like don’t read anyway coffee shop au, no vigilantes, or hero’s and it’s a Roy/Tim fic unique I know lolol but it’s actually so cute Tim being a huge nerd but in a smart way not the nerdy trope way and Bruce being a good dad and Jason, Dick, and Damian being good but annoying brothers it’s great

Words: 5,194 Chapters: 1/1

Note: okay that’s all for tonight I’m totally exhausted I honestly was thinking about not posting tonight cause I knew I’d have to dig again for fics cause I don’t have them organized at all so I think this weekend I’ll try organizing them cause I don’t want to have to dig for fics for over an hour just to only find two cause I’ve read many fics of course but I only really wanna recommend ones I thought were really good not just ‘meh’ fics (not to dis anyone’s writing at all I know writing is so majorly difficult and props to anyone who does write I’m just talking about fics where I like the writing style, what it was about, and how they wrote the characters and that’s just really off the top of my head anyways) so this weekend I’m gonna try to sort through all my bookmarks and any fics I’ve screenshotted and I’m also planing on going through my history to sort through what fics I remember and organize by fandom, and then make a whole other category for fics I don’t remember anyways I’m sure most of ya’ll didn’t want all that info but oh well that’s what you get lolol anyways sorry for the rambling I hope you have a good day/night and enjoy!!!! <3

(Also yet again sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes English is a stupid language and I’m way too tired rn)

[gatorbites-imagines]

Right right, so

Of course I love big muscly reader bending mark over and having his way with him, we all know mark has fantasies like that it's obvious bros just imagining a big man pounding him.

But But, imagine a skinny reader, twink looking ahh with not a single shred of muscle on him. But surprisingly this weak looking fucker is actually strong? Like strong enough to fold up mark like a pancake into the NASTIEST mating press you've ever seen.

The reason this is stuck in my head because of the irony, a vilturimate someone known to be fierce and strong getting manhandled by someone who looks like he needs helping opening a pickle jar

That's why is works so well with Nolan or maybe one of the evil marks because the HUMILIATION of the powerful man being used by someone who should fear and be the one being fucked silly. But nah the reader is bending him over the table, pulling his hair back and spitting on his face.

Anyway thank you for reading my ted talk that might make little sense cause I feel very sleep deprived but has been stuck in my head so might as well share it. (English isn't my first language so don't mind any spelling or grammar mistakes)

Have a good day/night gator!

Now this, is epic 😏

Reader with born super strength so he doesn't need to work out so he looks like a scrawny nerdy mess. But you know what they say, it's the quiet ones.

[zephyrusswinds]

I saw you agreed with take on presents day take on macaque with shadowpeach

Question what you'd thoughts on it?

I am very curious

hello there! I am so, so sorry for the late answer, funnily enough, I was rewatching Season 5 when I saw your ask.

I am also going to apologize for if this post reads very rambly and doesn't make a ton of sense, I'm going off of what little energy I have left in me, ha! Do expect spelling/ grammar mistakes!

Anyways, I believe my reblog wasn't funny clear enough, as I don't fully agree with your post but I do agree with what I believe you were trying to say;

I believe that Macaque's victim complex either originates from trauma or insecurity. Now, Macaque is most certainly shown to be very aggressive when interacting with Wukong, and it feels like he just can't see him beyond the hurt Wukong caused.

I don't necessarily think that Macaque would always view himself in the right. But like, I don't think he'd ever admit that Wukong was right. Also, Wukong doesn't verbally admit he's wrong, like ever.

^ now, I am the 1# Wukong defender, so this isn't saying he's acting like he's right all the time. But Macaque does have an extremely fierce victim complex; even within season 5 when he has a much more "agreeable" personality he throws most of the blame on Wukong (regarding MK's origin and the very human- or monkey, I should say- mistakes that Wukong makes throughout the mentorship).

Macaque says something along the lines of; "That kid idolizes you, you're his literal hero, and you just-" (season 5, Ep 1). And there was a line before that which implies that Macaque viewed Wukong in a similar way to how MK views Wukong. He brushes too much of MK's pain onto Wukong when Macaque is the one who caused so much of it.

Tjis is also why I really hate most interpretations of their relationship- I hate Macaque as an individual but I ABSOLUTELY love the implications of his relationships with others.

Macaque makes Wukong feel like shit constantly, and I thank you for introducing this opinion into my ever-growing Shadowpeach analysis essay.

But it's important as well that Wukong and Macaque are very alike personality-wise, with Macaque packing a tea-spoon more-o-sass than Wukong. Wukong is more mature than Macaque because well... Wukong's been hurt by others in a different way.

so, it'd rather not go into detail on that part; as, I'm saving it for part 2 of my Lionpeach essay. To put it succintly, everybody put a halo on Wukong and shoved him into a position where he's at blame for everyone's fate. (blame the brotherhood)

And Macaque kind of settled into the position of shoving blame, faith, and the blindest of hope onto Wukong. If anything, he'd think it's right. Because it's Wukong- no, wait, The Great Sage, or just the Monkey King. It's only really in season 4 (the turning tides of their relationship) when Macaque consistantly calls Wukong by his name, which, is actually fascinating if you think about it.

Regardless, Macaque felt like he was being ignored (again, to be emphasized in the aforementioned Shadowpeach essay; coming out in the year of our lord, 20-twenty-qué sé yo), his constant yelling and pushiness feels like an attempt to make himself feel bigger.

perhaps he recognizes Wukong's emotional power over him and wants to shut him down? just a thought.

so, I don't fully understand some of the things stated in your original post? My grasp on the English language is a lot worse than it seems, so i've been trying my best to interperate what you were trying to say.

I apologize if this comes off as a bit rude, but would you mind clarifying what this part of your post says? "I can see macaque to access wukong of things,he never done in the relationship"

ANyways, I don't currently have anything to add, I'll make a follow-up post if I think of something new.

I am open to more discussion if you'd like to add on! I'd love to hear your opinions, as, shadowpeach is such a complext topic!

[maevawrites]

'𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬' . . . ponyboy curtis

✦ disclaimers/warnings? ~ black!reader x ponyboy curtis, drabble, fluff, possible grammar and spelling mistakes, constantly making edits and changes so if this seems a bit different from the first time you read it thats why!

✦ word count: 702

𝐲𝐨𝐮 and pony had met in your english class, freshman year. when pony first saw you, he thought you were very pretty. no scratch that; beautiful. the way you came to school every day with a different hairstyle, whether it was puffs, braids, twists, he loved it all. he ultimately thought you were a soc but that was far from the truth. you were new in town and in fact had no idea there were such terms like 'greasers' and 'socs'. you two officially introduced yourselves to each other when getting paired up to work on a project. you couldn't help but form a small crush on him. from then on your friendship grew- along with something deeper, from both of you.

pony was a blushing mess whenever you were around him. he'd always find a way to trip up on his words and make a fool of himself but you thought it was cute—the way the tip of his nose and ears would turn a faint shade of red, his eyes darting all across your face, avoiding eye contact. every time he walks you back to your house, you'll kiss him on the cheek as a goodbye, and without fail, he'll turn red as a tomato, a cheeky smile spreading across his face.

but he left you flustered just as often. whenever you're talking about something, no matter how random or silly your thoughts were, he listened—nodding, offering small comments here and there, letting you know he was right there with you. and it wasn’t just that he listened, it was how he did it. the way his eyes never strayed from yours, warm and full of quiet understanding, made your words catch in your throat sometimes. how he’d tilt his head slightly, brows furrowed in focus, like every little thing you said mattered. and when he’d softly chuckle at your jokes or respond with a thoughtful hum, your heart would stutter, heat creeping up your neck. it was ridiculous, really—how a simple glance or an absentminded brush of his hand against yours could leave you feeling so lightheaded.

after pony found out you had a love for reading just like him, you guys made a little book club (just the two of you), reading books y'all decided on and held little meetings either at the library or at pony's house if he knew the rest of the gang wouldn't be there. (he wanted the space to be as quiet and comfortable as possible for the two of you :,))

one night, just the two of you were at ponyboy's kitchen table, giggling about something one of the characters had done in the book when suddenly darry came in. you guys must've been in your own world that you hadn't heard the front door open and weren't expecting anyone else to come home. "hey pone, didn't know you were having a friend over." he greeted pony and offered you a small nod. you smiled in return, letting your dimples show. "uh yeah, forgot to tell you, i guess." pony responded scratching his neck, clearly embarrassed. darry smirked. “no funny business, you two.” he teasingly pointed between the two of you. “darryyy”, pony groaned, dragging out his name in a flustered tone. you giggled at the playful exchange, shaking your head. darry chuckled before disappearing into his room, leaving you two alone again. now that the giggling from earlier had faded, the only sound was the soft rustling pages as you both continued the book shared between you.

the silence between you felt easy, the kind of quiet that comes with being completely comfortable with someone. the only thing you could hear now was the soft turning of pages and the loud thumping of your heart, racing for reasons you weren’t quite ready to name yet.

pony didn't have the words either- not yet. he didn't know what this all meant, the way your knee brushed against his or the constant fluttering in his chest whenever you smiled. he didn't know what these new feelings were, but he didn't mind not knowing yet. for now, this quiet moment with you felt enough, and maybe that was all the both of you needed.

✦ maeva's thoughts ~ ekkkkk my first piece of writing on here!! hope you guys enjoyed!!

[emmyspov]

Prioritise yourself (Thranduil x Reader)

author's note: happy easter to everyone who celebrates it and a happy weekend to all either way🪻this is honestly one of the most scary things i've posted because it's something so personal that i relate to a lot, but i thought maybe someone else might need it, too🥺 please always remember that nothing will ever be more important than your health and well-being 🩷

warnings: symptoms of burnout, lack of sleep, exhaustion, negative self-talk, skipping meals, mentions of food, nudity (for taking a bath together) - please please please let me know if I forgot something! 🩷

word count: 1.9k

edit is mine, all pics are from pinterest :)

It had seemed like a smart idea when you offered Thranduil to help him with all the paperwork.

His days were filled with meetings and more often than not he only returned to your chambers once it was dark already.

So, for the past few months, you had been - more or less secretly - helping him with whatever you could: sending out invitations to other royals, filing away documents, re-writing contracts so all that would be left to do was sign them.

You were the king's partner after all and you wanted to help him as much as possible. This was your kingdom, your home, as much as it was his, as he regularly reminded you.

Thranduil noticed, obviously. The hours in his study were reduced since most things were taken care of in a perfect way already - he could return to your private rooms right after dinner and spend time with you instead which the Elvenking appreciated immensely.

However, over the past few weeks, things have taken a turn. And Thranduil noticed that, too.

How, on some days, you would get up earlier than him, how you would skip lunch and dinner with him - although it was one of your favorite things since you got to spend it with one another during your otherwise busy schedules - and instead eat by yourself, hunched over some papers. He noticed your tired eyes and dull skin and- lack happiness, to cut it short.

Worry didn't even remotely describe what he was feeling. He felt sick to his stomach when he thought about you being unhappy.

Today was no different.

You had gotten up before sunrise, leaving your husband a little love letter, before entering your own study to take care of all official things.

There was a lot to do. Other elves as much as people from Laketown and even dwarves were sending letters, hoping to schedule a meeting with the king himself to talk over whatever was bothering them.

You made it your mission to answer every single one of them, noting down appointments and also sending out excuses if Thranduil wasn't the right one to talk to when it came to certain matters.

By the end of the day, your head was pounding. You let out a yawn and rubbed your eyes, hoping to relieve some of the pressure behind them, but to no use.

Closing them for only a minute wouldn't hurt. You could still look for your husband afterwards.

A line had been crossed for the Elvenking.

It was the second day in a row that you skipped your shared meals and from what he just learned, you weren't eating them at all.

He needed to talk to you. He wouldn’t - and couldn’t - let you destroy yourself over some work. Your happiness and well being came first and he would make you realise that, no matter the cost.

After reaching your study and receiving no answer to his knocks, he let himself in with determined steps, only to stop abruptly as soon as he saw your sleeping figure. His eyes softened immediately.

"Oh, meleth."

With two big steps, he was by your side, crouching down until he was on eye level with you. Even in your sleep, you looked stressed, your eyebrows scrunched up, reminding him of the times you woke up from a bad dream.

"What are you doing to yourself, hm?"

Gentle, as if you would break like glass if he touched you with too much force, he picked you up and carried you out of the room and into your shared bed chamber where he set you down on the soft mattress and covered you with a fluffy blanket.

Thranduil left the room again for only a few moments so he could blow out the candle in your study and put everything where it belonged. He himself hated to work at a messy desk and didn't want you to deal with the same thing once you would return to work, although he didn't want to think about that yet. For now, you needed rest and all the love and care you could get.

He returned to your bedroom after he spoke to some of his subordinates to let them know neither he nor you would be available in the next three days.

You were still fast asleep, curled up into the blanket. The king walked over to you and slowly began to remove all your uncomfortable clothing before he himself put on a night gown.

Only then did he lay down next to you, carefully maneuvering your body into his arms, your head on his chest. Even in your sleep you wrapped your arm around his waist and entangled your legs, letting out a small sigh.

"Sleep, meleth, you've been working too hard", your husband whispered and brought his delicate fingertips up to brush some hair out of your face before letting them trail down to your back, rubbing some calming circles into your shoulder. "I'll watch over you, I promise."

And Thranduil kept his word.

He stayed up to make sure you slept through the night, occasionally pressing a kiss to your temple or the top of your head while his fingers were always touching you in some way.

It was nearly lunch time when you woke up the next day.

After noticing you were still cuddled up with your husband although the sun was already shining into the room, you immediately sat up.

"I- I overslept, oh Varda, there is so much to do. Why didn’t you wake me, my love?"

With a gentle force, Thranduil pressed you back onto the mattress.

"You've been overworking yourself for weeks and your health and happiness are suffering in return. I told everyone we wouldn't be available for the next few days. For the foreseeable future, we'll only take care of you."

You didn't want to cry. And you tried really hard to keep the tears at bay, but when the Elvenking looked at you with so much love in his eyes, you couldn’t stop them.

"I'm sorry for failing you, my king."

The elf wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. "Oh meleth, no. No, you didn't fail me, you never have. And you never will."

"I can't even take care of myself", you hiccuped, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "It's like the work and the pressure never stop and I'll never be good enough and now I am sitting here, crying to you, a literal king who has way more responsibility than me. I am so sorry to burden you with this."

Thranduil's heart was breaking. He couldn't believe this was how you saw yourself when, to him, you were the most beautiful being in all of Middle Earth.

"You are never a burden to me. Do you hear me? Never. We can fix this. You have to learn how to prioritise yourself. I can teach you. I will teach you. And we will start right now. You must be hungry, what do you want to eat?"

You fumbled around with your hands before looking up at the Elvenking. "Could I have some pancakes?"

Thranduil leaned forward to press a kiss against your nose. "Whatever you want, meleth nîn."

With one swift motion, he got up, put on one of his majestic robes and made his way to the kitchen to order your beloved pancakes and some additional treats as well as some hot and cold beverages.

He returned to your chambers with a first tray of food, watching your face lit up with delight at the sweet smell.

"Here you go, my love. Eat as much as you want and take all the time you need. There are no other things that need to get done today or the next few days."

You nodded and grabbed a plate, happily munching on the food the servants were bringing in over time.

The king was watching you carefully while he himself ate something. It was more than obvious that all the food was good for your mind, body and soul.

You let yourself fall back against the sheets when you were done, letting out a satisfied sigh. "That was good."

"It is about to get better. What do you think of a bath?"

Your eyes lit up. "Right now?"

The elf couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Is that what you want?"

You sat up, enthusiastically bouncing on the mattress and nodding your head. "Yes, please!"

Thranduil stood up again and walked into the bathroom, filling the tub with hot water and your favourite bath salts and flower petals before coming back to you.

With ease, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the bed, carrying you into the bathroom.

"Arms up", he ordered gently and removed your clothing, doing the same to himself afterwards.

"You're so handsome", you breathed out as you softly pressed your hand against his chest, right above his heart. "I'm so lucky to have you."

Thranduil's heart started to beat faster under your touch and praise and you smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach at the fact that you still had this effect on him.

He lifted you into the tub, setting you down and lowering himself behind you, pulling your body flush against his chest.

"I'm the lucky one."

You shook your head before letting it fall back against his shoulder. "You take care of me when I can't do it myself."

The king's deft fingers brushed through your hair, letting them trail down your arm. "We take care of each other. You are the one who decreased my work load so I'd have more time."

You intertwined your hands. "Well, of course. I want you to be well."

A kiss was pressed against the top of your head. "Do you see my point?"

You nodded. "I think I do."

Thranduil let his thumb brush over the back of your hand. "Tomorrow, we can take a walk in the garden and look at all the blossoming flowers. Or we can do whatever else will make you happy."

A smile graced your lips. "Just being with you makes me happy."

Gently, the ellon grabbed your chin and turned your head around so he could kiss you. You melted into his embrace, smiling against his lips.

"Gi melin", he whispered after you two had parted for air and you replied with the same sentiment.

Once you two had soaked in the water for a while, the Elvenking grabbed your shampoo and lathered up his hands before bringing them up to your scalp to work in the product.

The more time you spend like this with your husband - in your little bubble of happiness and safety - the lighter your heart felt.

And it only got better when Thranduil's hands wandered down your head to your neck and shoulders, massaging your tense muscles to help you relax even further.

You shuddered and the king grinned to himself. He was just as pleased as you were earlier that his touch could, still, make you weak in the knees.

"Rest, meleth", he whispered as he continued to work on your upper back. "There will be time to talk about long-term adjustments and solutions, but for now, you can let yourself fall. I'll be there to catch you."

Everything-Taglist: @shadowhuntyi @asgardianhobbit98 @fizzyxcustard

-> if you want to be added or removed from my taglist, just shoot me a message or an ask 🩷

[buff-muffin]

There’s a pretty common ASL brothers headcanon that Sabo teaches his brothers things like reading and writing among other things and I do think this is true to a degree. Like of course the bandits taught Ace the basics but you know little Ace and his whole “raaaa don’t tell me what to do. If I stay out of the house I can’t be a bother to you” mindset. And I certainly think Makino and the Mayor TRIED to teach Luffy but he only has a grip on bare basics. So Sabo had to teach more complicated things like grammar, multiplication, division and other things.

And honestly I could see him being a pretty good teacher. He knows how his brothers brains work and how to phrase questions for them so that they would understand. And considering Ace and Sabo had known each other for years by this point I could imagine Ace is use to Sabo being a teacher.

But Sabo as Luffy’s teacher is a little different. Because Sabo watches Luffy struggle with so many things he did when he was little. Phonetic spelling, contractions, fractions even simple things like buttoning up his own shirt are hard for Luffy. And while Ace is quick to call him stupid because it’s easy don’t be a baby. Sabo is patient with him because his own parents never were. He buttons Luffy’s shirts in the winter when he struggles, he sounds out store signs for him and break down maths questions to the point of rocks for Luffy to count. While I doubt Luffy was ever fond of class time, he was almost always met with patience helping him to learn

When Sabo left, Ace would not coddle him the same Sabo did even if he tried to and that Winter after Sabo’s death Luffy learned to button his own shirt and was so proud. He chose to leave Dawn in a button up vest as if to prove to Sabo he was grown enough to survive on his own and he didn’t need to worry.

[lycheeloving]

ANOTHER MULTIVERSE FIC because I can't stop myself, apparently. An injustice!Superman one, this time. I imagine you were a small-time hero/vigilante in this one, so Superman knew (and liked) you before he turned bad, but you weren't super close, before.

-You wake up in an unfamiliar room, tied to a chair, not knowing how you got there. Kal doesn't ever let you leave the fortress. But you don't know how anyone else could have gotten in to take you here, wherever here is. Maybe it was Kal? But why would he do that?

-You spot a woman tied up in another chair next to you, it seems like she also just woke up. She reminds you of someone, but you can't remember who exactly... You want to ask her if she knows more about what's going on, when you realize you're both gagged. Shit. You can't even communicate with her!

-A man comes in, rambling something about how he's glad you're finally awake and about his plan finally taking shape. You feel like you should know this guy, but can't quite put a finger on it...

-Being unsure if you know who he is, as you're "not from here", he introduces himself. He's Lex Luthor.

-Wait. Lex Luthor? The Lex Luthor? The dead one, who was killed by Superman? Is this a prank? Because if so, it isn't funny at all. And quite dangerous for everyone involved.

-Luthor (if that is his real name) then focuses on the woman next to you. He addresses her as "Mrs. Lane".

-Lane as in Lois Lane? Like, Lois Lane from the Daily Planet? Clark Kent's, Superman's wife? Now you know something is extremely wrong. She's dead, too, and everyone knows not to mention her name unless they want to face Superman's wrath... You make a few muffled sounds beneath your gag, itching to ask about just what is going on here.

-Luthor says he's going to explain everything, don't be so impatient! He has a machine that can open portals to parallel universes, which is how he got you here. His plan includes kidnapping the person that is most important to Superman in his own universe (Lois Lane), the person most important to Superman in a second universe (You!) and then making the Supermen fight each other by threatening your lives. The only way to save you is if one Superman dies. This room is Superman proof, he can't hear or see anything that's happening in here, so they can't just swoop in and save you. After the fight, he's going to let the winning Superman enter this room, promising him that he can rescue Lois or you. Except not really, because he's going to try to kill the winner too, because that should be easier after he just fought another Superman, right? He hasn't opened a portal to let the Superman from your universe know about how he can save you, yet. He closed the portal he got you through immediately after kidnapping you, so he had more time to prepare everything. How he found you? Something about being able to detect kryptonian dna residue on you. And you were in Superman's fortress. Easy to combine that you must be important to him.

-That's... actually not a terrible plan! Sure, it might not work out exactly the way that Luthor is planning, but beating Superman with Superman is a great idea! Actually it'd be great if Luthor got a third one here. Two Supermen should definitely be able to defeat one Superman, right? Unfortunately you can't communicate any of this through your gag. Damn, you'd love to help him improve his plan...

-You wonder if he chose your universe completely randomly, or if he chose an evil Superman on purpose. You don't think he did, he didn't mention the regime with one word, and if it existed in this universe he wouldn't be working on this stupid plan. And Lois wouldn't be alive, probably.

-Before you can let your thoughts spiral even more, Luthor falls over. Huh? Is he unconscious? You spot Batman coming towards you. Ah. That explains that, then. Man, you haven't seen Batman in such a long time...

-"Are you two alright?" He quickly cuts through the ropes tying you to the chairs, freeing you. "Good thing you used your bat emergency-signal, Lois. I was able to get to you before Superman could fall for Luthor's trap." Wait, why would Lois contact Batman? Oh, right, sometimes you forget that he and Superman used to be friends, so obviously his wife would trust him too.

-He takes off both of your gags and then turns to you. "We figured out you're from a parallel universe, but don't worry, Nightwing is currently working on a way to get in contact with the Superman from your dimension, so-"

-"NO!", you scream, making Batman look at you in confusion. You quickly tell him to contact Nightwing, to make him stop trying to open a portal or god forbid, contact Kal!! Noticing the urgency in your voice, Batman quickly complies and lets Nightwing know to stop what he's doing, before asking you to elaborate. Phew! The last thing you need is an angry Superman wreaking havoc in a second universe.

-You start explaining to Batman about how your Superman started changing for the worse after Lois died (sparing the details, as she's kind of sitting right next to you), started to get darker, kill villains, everyone who did something bad, people who disagreed with him. Other heroes, even. People he used to be friends with. How everyone who didn't agree with him and join his regime, including you and Batman, had to go into hiding, trying to find a way to stop him. Clark, no KAL-EL found you at some point, but instead of killing you, he unexpectedly took you, basically imprisoned you. Kept you like a pet who's not smart enough to make their own decisions. (You never even knew he liked you like that at all, before that. Sure, he was always nice to you, but he had Lois!)

-Lois seems visibly shocked, whereas Batman just listens to you stoically. "All this to say, it's good to see you alive, Lois!" You smile weakly. She tries to smile back, but before she can respond, Batman cuts her off. "We should leave this place. I doubt it's very safe here. We should return to the Batcave, think of a plan." You spare one last glance at Luthor, who's still lying on the floor (Are we just going to leave him here? Huh. Ok.), then follow Batman outside.

-As soon as you're out of the building, something rushes past you. "Lois! Are you ok? Did he hurt you?" Not something. Someone. You try not to flinch as he fusses over her, while she reassures him that she's fine multiple times.

-After he's convinced she's not hurt, he turns to you with a gentle smile. "Hello! So you're close to the Superman in another dimension, then?" As he takes a step towards you, you instinctively take a step back towards Batman. Clark frowns at him quizzically. It's funny, he almost looks like a confused puppy. You would smile if you didn't know that this is all a facade to distract from his god-like, destructive powers.

-"Turns out the other version of you is some kind of evil dictator." Well, leave it to Batman to get straight to the point. Clark opens and closes his mouth a few times, thinking about what to say. "Well, I can assure you that I'm not like the Superman you know. I promise you, I'm a good person! At least I try my best to be one. You don't have to be scared." His voice is getting increasingly gentle, trying to reassure you.

-"Oh yeah? That's exactly what the Superman from my dimension would have said, before..." You don't mention his wife's death, not wanting to anger him. "The same thing could happen to you. You might be nice now, but who knows what the future holds?" As you're saying this, you slowly move slightly behind Batman. Just in case. He should have some kryptonite on him, right?

-Superman just frowns harder, then turns to Lois. "We should go home." He picks her up and turns to Batman. "Contact me as soon as you have plans for... handling the other me." With that, he takes off.

-Batman ushers you into the Batmobile, where Nightwing (another ghost, to you) is already waiting. You keep turning to look at him during the drive to the Batcave, while Bruce explains the situation to him. If they notice your weird looks, they don't mention it.

-You allow yourself to feel some hope. Maybe you can contact your Bruce? Help him out! Send a few still good Supermen! Your head is spinning with ideas, and you're sure Batman can come up with even better ones. You can't help but smile, your nightmare might finally be over...

[tsukis-marauders-microfics]

microfic biased off this post by @we-were-starss because why not

It had been a brilliant idea.

After all, they’d already planned to brew Polyjuice, and what else to use to for other than pranks?

Right before class, James had put his glasses on Sirius’s face, and then James had pulled off a strand of Sirius’s hair, and Sirius to James. They put it in their cups and drunk the whole bottle, causing both of them to crumple in pain.

When they arose from their fetal positions on the floor in their dorm, Sirius looked up, shocked to be met with his own face.

“Bloody hell, Potter. This brilliant!” Sirius said, examining his arms his arms, and flexing.

“Merlin, Sirius, how do you deal with your hair this long?” James brushed his fingers through his (Sirius’s) hair.

“How do you deal with glasses?” Sirius asked, taking off James’s glasses and squinting across the room. “Your eyesight is fucked, mate.”

“Are you two ready to go to class?” Remus asked, coming out of the bathroom and straightening his tie. Peter had music blasting in his ears as he attempted to put his shoes on. Remus walked over to “Sirius” and was about to kiss his cheek before James jumped back, and Remus looked at “Sirius” confused.

“It’s me. James. I’m James.” James said frantically “He’s Sirius” Remus’s brow furrowed before a wave of realization flooded his face.

“Polyjuice.” he muttered, as Peter pulled out his earbuds.

“Polyjuice?” Peter asked, standing up.

“Those two idiots took Polyjuice.” Remus sighed waving his hand between James and Sirius. Peter stared at both of them shocked.

“Smart as ever, Moony.” Sirius winked at Remus.

“I am not kissing you until this wears off” Remus called over his shoulder, walking out of the dorm. Sirius sighed lovingly, before continuing to examine his body and Peter bombarded them with questions.

☆☼☆☼☆☼☆☼☆☼☆☼☆☼☆☼☆☼☆☼☆☼

Sirius and James had decided to just go to the others classes to draw less attention to themselves. They enjoyed walking around Hogwarts, nobody else knowing that they weren’t who they were supposed to be. They agreed to continue to take it throughout the day, but to have it end before quidditch practice (Sirius drew the line at him and James’s swapping positions).

The day started to get interesting after Potions, when Sirius said that he had to go grab something he forgot from his dorm. The others waved him goodbye and headed off to lunch, while he made the trek back to the Gryffindor common room.

Nothing interesting had happened, until he suddenly felt someone pull his robes. He yelped out of surprise, which was only heightened when he was shoved into a broom closet. Once in, the person moved their lips closer to his, but he was able to push the person off him with little effort. His eyes widened as he looked at the person in front of him.

“What the hell Reggie??” Sirius shouted. Regulus shushed him, and was beetroot red.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“Sorry??? Why did you do that?” Sirius recoiled, very confused.

“You said I could.” Regulus seemed to be making himself smaller as he adjusted his clothes.

“Why in the name of merlin would I say that? You’re my bloody brother!”

“What?” Regulus’s eyes snapped up to meet his.

“I’m your brother! Why would you try to snog me?” Sirius repeated himself.

“You’re not my brother. You’re James.” Regulus tilted his head to the side, just as confused as Sirius. Suddenly, Sirius’s mouth dropped open.

“Fuck. Regulus, have you been dating James?” Sirius asked.

“James? Yes. You are James. Stop playing with me, Potter.”

“Regulus, I’m Sirius. Me and James took Polyjuice.” Regulus’s eyes widened in horror.

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Shit.” Sirius grumbled, his mind still spinning from the realization.

“I’m sorry. Actually, no. I’m not sorry. Me and James are together and if you don’t like it then that’s your problem.” Regulus snapped, his eyes aflame.

“I never said I had a problem with it, Jesus. Give me a second.” Sirius adjusted his (James’s) glasses. “I’m going to go talk to James.” Without another word, Sirius fled from the broom closet and ran all the way down to the great hall.

Once he was there, he scanned the hall, and then ran up to the table where the other three marauders sat. Once he got there, he stood over himself (James) and crossed his arms.

“Hello pads-prongs.” James corrected himself. “Care to join us?” Sirius stayed where he was and narrowed his eyes at James before shaking his head fondly.

“You brother-fucker.”

[bonicedemandarina]

Click for better quality!

Hey guys I'm still into wha btw, here's my art for the deciduous spells zine, just wanted to draw my favorite guys being happy for once.

I feel like my art always ends up being in a modern au idk how, it just keeps happening

[bludhavens-finest]

“Nightwing doesn’t know to from too” “Nightwing doesn’t know you’re from your”

Nightwing has dyslexia.

[justaz]

lance who has always hidden his insecurities under grandeur and humor. a huge ego paired with an inflated sense of pride. he is someone who is confident and cocky, but he exaggerates it in response to the deep rooted belief that he is not enough, that he is ordinary at best, lackluster at worst. he grew up as the baby in a huge family which came with a lot of coddling, yes, but his achievements had been made time and time again which made them expectations rather than milestones. the first time he truly shone was when he got into the garrison, something no one in his family had done before, something to be celebrated. he worked his ass off at the garrison to be top of his class, to be a fighter pilot, to reach the stars - to be the first of his family to reach space. who could too that? no matter how long he spent studying or training, he still tested into the cargo pilot class. it wasn’t the worst but it wasn’t what he wanted. he fell short by a measly three points. it was infuriating.

lance worked his ass off even more. he wanted to be something, he wanted to be noticed, he wanted to be praised, he wanted to be celebrated. he never made it. there was one student that caught his eye though - keith kogane. a living, breathing legend. he tested at the top of their class. miles above the other students. completely untouchable. despite his reputation, his grand achievements, keith never cared. he was never in the library studying or spending his free time on the flight sims. he rarely made it to class on time. he didn’t care. yet he was the best of the best. iverson gave him a hard time but it was clear to everyone that even iverson admired him and his skill, his talent. even lance admired him. he wanted to be like him, he wanted to be him. he was rejoiced, he was celebrated, he was praised, he was admired and he didn’t even try. lance pushed harder and harder but only ended in burning himself out. he crumbled under the pressure while keith didn’t seem to notice it. lance loved him but also hated him. then he was gone. and lance was a fighter pilot. barely.

iverson, now with one less eye, loathed that. he gave lance scorn and belittlement, compared him to keith at every turn and went on and on about his failings, about how he’d never be keith, about how he didn’t deserve keith’s space in the class. lance hated iverson, lance hated keith, lance hated himself. he just had to try harder. he was more deserving of all of it than keith. he never cared, he didn’t want what he was blessed with. lance fought tooth and nail for it. he deserved it. he rose a bit in the fighter pilot class and kept fighting, iverson kept ridiculing and humiliating, keith’s name remained at the top of the boards. as the year passed, his name overtook name after name until he was below keith, three points behind. almost, almost, almost, almost…

then they were in space. kidnapped by giant, sentient, mechalions. fighting in an intergalactic war. unable to return home. the years of resentment lance held for keith came to surface in close quarters with the man and he relished in every challenge that he won and despised every challenge he lost. he worked his ass off to get better until he could rechallenge keith until he won. he wasn’t sure when their rivalry became tinged with friendship, but he didn’t hate it. he should’ve, but he didn’t. it was keith’s disregard for his own amazement that infuriated lance. he was gifted and never cared for it. he was everything lance wanted and it was like it meant nothing to him. like he would trade it all at the drop of a hat if he could. yet, keith was fun, in an odd way. awkward and funny, a little prickly around the edges but a soft, gooey marshmallow heart under it all. lance knew it. he saw keith tear up at a couple of cute babies of some species on some planet as they played.

then shiro went missing and keith was forced into the role of leader and he very clearly did not want it. again, lance felt a flicker of annoyance. the role of black paladin, the pilot of the black lion, that was something lance had wanted. not at the expense of shiro, not at the expense of anyone, but he could be leader. he could lead the paladins of voltron in the fight against the galran empire. he could be revered on every planet they freed from tyranny, his name would live on forever. no one would overshadow him. yet, now keith stood in the shadow of the black lion, his face pinched and his eyes dark. he had lost his brother twice now and was being forced into leadership, he was now the one to make all the decisions for the team of (mostly) teenagers against the empire that had terrorized the universe for over ten thousand years.

lance stomped on the flicker of annoyance and put it out as he strode forward and stood beside keith. he spoke lowly, gently. he wasn’t sure how, but the right words spilled forth. keith’s shoulders relaxed and his scowl eased to a faint frown. he stepped into his role as leader. he was still as impatient and impulsive, he was quick to anger and often blinded by it. lance was there for it all. he held keith back, became his patience and impulse control. he quelled his anger when he could and talked sense into him when keith was already fired up. in return, keith gave him trust and gave him power. to outsiders, it seemed like it always had since the birth of voltron - the black paladin, the leader, and the red paladin, the right hand. but in all actuality, it was more the black and red paladins, leaders of voltron. the final decision rested with keith, but he never made a choice without lance’s input. lance made the plans and keith approved of them. lance talked at the diplomatic meetings while keith put on a brave face and played nice for a few hours.

then shiro came back and keith stepped down. lance felt as if he had finally found his footing. lance and keith, leaders of voltron, best friends. and now keith was leaving. lance watched keith walk away as he supported hunk and his tears. lance retreated to his own room and found traces of keith in every nook and cranny. hell, the damn castle ship could be traced back to keith in lance’s mind. ever since he stepped foot in the garrison, everything was tied to keith - the school legend, top of the class, best fighter pilot in their generation, the crazy man breaking into a government facility to kidnap legend takashi shirogane, the conspiracy theorist with the odd sounds in the desert, finding the blue lion, ending up in space fighting a war, red paladin of voltron. it was all keith. yet he wasn’t here. lance loved him, but he also hated him. he wasn’t sure how many more times he’d end up feeling that same sentiment.

the team…drifted. hunk and pidge paired off while allura and shiro paired off leaving lance and coran. coran was a nice, funny, odd man that reminded lance of his father back home. coran’s crazy, kooky exterior melted away when it was just them two and lance felt the same happen with him. coran talked of altea before it all, his husband and their son. lance talked of home too, every detail he could remember from earth and his family. lance busied himself with training or helping coran around the castle. he tried with the rest of the team, but things were pretty tense and his loud, jovial nature wasn’t exactly welcome all things considered. he tried to be shiro’s second as he had been keith’s. he offered his input and his plans but they were tossed aside without a moments thought. he was belittled for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong when he tried to speak up at their meetings. he was not shiro’s second, he was keith’s piss poor replacement as he had been at the garrison. he quieted and kept to himself. he stuck to the walls with crossed arms or locked himself on the training deck for hours at a time. shiro was off, a but different but lance couldn’t put his finger on it. the way he looked at them all sometimes was eerie. his eyes were empty and void and unsettling. after being shouted at on the bridge during a meeting,

he really couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself. he thought getting it out in the open would ease the worry off his shoulders and, if it didn’t, then whoever he spoke to could laugh off his worries to properly ease his mind, help him see sense. lance told coran. coran did not laugh. he did not brush off lance’s worries. he all but confirmed them. he said how he had found shiro’s behavior odd and the shouting really sent the point home. shiro before had never yelled, not like that (bar slav but that was understandable). the rest of the team also sought lance out to share their same opinions. lance took it all in stride despite the heavy dread settling over his shoulders. in agreement, the team trailed down to the bay and sat in front of the black lion. instead of the slow, patient meditation where they would ascend into the astral plane, it felt more like they were snatched and hauled up into it. they found shiro there, the real shiro, the dead shiro. they weren’t sure who was on the ship, but it wasn’t their leader. they all remained in the astral plane as they talked over a plan.

lotor considered their line of questioning and shared the witch’s experiments while he was there and gathered that if shiro was anything, he was most likely a clone. there were other options such as shapeshifter or droid disguised as shiro but both were easily disproven as if shiro were a shapeshifter, there would’ve been moments when he tripped up and either didn’t remember something or acted too different from the shiro they knew. if shiro were a droid disguised as shiro, well…their capabilities of such a thing were lacking. the droids the galran empire had were only good for fighting and even then they were pretty lackluster. the witch had an odd fascination with life and death so the chances of shiro being one of her experiments at recreating life were incredibly high.

lance didn’t trust lotor either but he knew they needed all the aid they could get so he bit his tongue and allowed lotor to remain in close cohorts with all of them. they staged a coup and overpowered the shiro on the ship. unable to kill him, they froze him in a pod and kept him locked in the floor of the infirmary. with the loss of her spy, haggar launched an attack on voltron. tens of hundreds of galran ships warped to their position but their appearance was quickly followed by hundreds of thousands of rebel ships and military ships from those in the coalition. the blade managed to send a few ships, though at lance’s poking and prodding, kolivan relayed that keith wouldn’t be there as he hd been out of a mission for the past couple of weeks and hadn’t returned yet. heavier dread settled over lance but he had no choice then to ignore it and fight with the rest of his team against the galran attack.

with a great sense of deja vu, lance found himself locked out of the red lion. he groaned and complained to him as they didn’t have time for this but red didn’t budge. lance spoke to coran through his comms that red wouldn’t let him in and the older man appeared in the bay at frightening speed. they talked it over and red allowed coran to enter and pilot him. as coran stepped into red’s maw, black let out an ear-shattering roar. the deja vu was never ending as lance found himself rushing toward black and taking a seat at the helm. the castle ship was put on autopilot, it kept its shield up as it fired at passing galran ships whilst the rest of the team flew around in their lions taking on ship after ship. as rebel and coalition ships began to fall, the team formed voltron and took out the ships with ease.

it was odd, finally being in charge. finally being recognized. being turned to for guidance with unwavering trust. it was something he had always dreamed of, something he envied keith for, something he truly didn’t want when he finally got it. how could they look to him? how could black choose him? he was just a boy from cuba, one out of a family of seven, twelve counting his sister in law, niece and nephew, and grandma and grandpa. he was a cargo pilot who had no business being in the fighter pilot class. he became a paladin by sheer luck, luck attributed to keith kogane. even now, as black paladin, he only received that position because shiro was out of commission and keith was on a mission for the blade. the moment keith returned, the lion would return to keith and lance would go back to being his second, ignored at best, yelled at at worst. as of now, he was keith’s stand in. he just had to make it until keith returned. problems arose practically ever minute and lance tried to imagine keith and how he would respond before making a decision. he’d stand still as he took in the information, pointer finger and thumb brushing together as he thought it over, and finally respond.

he checked practically every minute of every day for a response from keith or a change in status from kolivan, but neither ever came. keith was still on a mission. he had been for weeks. lance stood on shaky legs as he led the team. he hesitated and was indecisive. he froze up when they turned to him to make a decision. he was not a leader. he wasn’t who they were looking for. they needed keith. he needed keith. lance would spend his time in the bridge, a line ringing endlessly in hopes of keith finally picking up, as he looked over the battle plans and made tweaks and adjustments as he saw fit. allura joined him once and merely watched as he worked. she chuckled to herself suddenly and mentioned how with the clone as their leader, she had forgotten what it was like with keith as their leader. she had forgotten that lance was once their strategist, that he had been part of the duo that made all the decisions for the team.

coran also joined him after allura left. he let lance ramble aloud about the plans until he ran into an issue he couldn’t resolve quite yet. he stood still as he rubbed his thumb and pointer finger together. coran smiled and exhaled sharply. he said softly how he had not seen lance “like this” in quite some time. at lance’s questioning look, coran explained how lance had been so confident and sure of himself when he led with keith. under the clone’s leadership, lance had been shaken and wasn’t sure of himself anymore. the lance of the past few months was quiet and hesitant, unsure and unsteady, whilst the lance who led with keith was confident and self-assured. he made these decisions for the team and didn’t second guess himself once. yes, he thought over his plans from every angle to ensure the team was as safe as could be, but he never doubted himself. coran supposed it was keith’s unwavering faith, loyalty, and trust in lance. keith followed lance’s decisions just as much as the team followed keith’s.

lance watched coran leave after ruffling his hair and slowly turned back to the messy draft of a battle plan. lance’s gaze shifted over to his stilled hand where he had been rubbing his thumb and pointer together since running into the issue. he had been doing the same motion since becoming black paladin. it was oddly familiar. he swore he had seen…keith do it. it was keith’s unique tick that he did when stressed or emotional and trying to compose himself. lance had stolen it. allura and coran’s words echoed in his mind as he thought back to the short period of time with keith as black paladin. lance had felt like he finally found his footing there. he felt seen and heard and appreciated as he and keith led the team together. keith’s trust in his decisions, lance’s ability to match each of keith’s weaknesses to balance the team. here lance was now, leading the team all on his own, and he felt his own weaknesses exposed to the elements at the loss of his samurai.

well, the whole time he had been thinking what would keith do. he had been leading like he still had keith. perhaps that was the problem. he was leading like half of a whole rather than black paladin. lance looked up at the trilling line on the screen of the bridge. keith was on a mission. he was not on the ship. it was lance and his team. lance reached up and ended the ringing line. he had to lead like it. lance watched lotor closely for days but still couldn’t find any issue with him. weeks passed and things sailed smoother than before. lance still froze up in meetings and hesitated before making big decisions, but he stopped looking to his side for keith’s input. just as they fell into the new normal, keith returned. he flew into the castleship with a teleporting black and blue wolf, a tall galran woman that looked suspiciously like him, and (most peculiar) an altean. as well as a growth spurt that came with bulging muscles. not that that was important. what was important was that keith finally gave lance the reason why lotor was so hard to trust.

in the hours waiting for lotor and allura to return, lance lead keith to the infirmary to see the still clone body and retold everything that had happened while he was gone. keith’s face cycled through a few emotions but he quickly forced them back behind a mask of indifference and he nodded. the two of the returned to the bridge to wait for lotor to return to confront him. allura was heartbroken and enraged at the news and had taken to fighting lotor herself. outnumbered and surrounded, lotor surrendered and allowed himself to be taken to the dungeons of the castle. it was unnerving that the castle had dungeons and lance never knew despite his wanderings over the years, but he let it go. lotor was taken into the belly of the castle in chains while keith mourned his brother once more. maybe it was the news of her people that had survived only to be farmed for experiments that gave her the idea, but allura thought of a way to bring shiro, their shiro, back.

the clone’s body was taken down to the bay where allura pressed her hands to the black lion. she began to glow and she walked toward the limp body and placed her hands to it’s chest and head. the light around her body flowed down her arms and hands and into the body on the table. after a few seconds, the body took a breath and cracked open it’s eyes. lively eyes. loving, kind, and caring eyes. shiro’s eyes. shiro was put back in the infirmary as he got used to being alive again. coran stepped back from the red lion and turned the mantle back over to lance without complaint. lance did the same with the black lion to keith. instead of it feeling bitter, lance felt more at peace. being a nobody was horrible, unbearable, but being the somebody that everyone turned to for help and guidance was not very fun either. he was content to be second in command, right hand man, three points behind keith. only, keith took back the black lion but didn’t let lance fall back into the shadows. they fell back into the same dynamic they had before, two halves of one whole, two leaders that complimented each other, that met one another’s weakness with their strengths, that balanced each other, that made a damn good team.