#anyway I had fun writing this one

[egophiliac]

I loved your drawing(and I love your style in general) with Leia in your recent post! If/when you have time can we see more of her in your style? I get so happy whenever I actually see people mention/talk about her and she’s not just forgotten because we didn’t get to see much of her. 😭

thank you! 💙💙💙 Leia/Leah/Lea/whatever is fascinating to me. she is the ultimate unknown. what was she like? how involved (or even aware of any details of the invasion) was she? Silver's basically a physical carbon copy of his biodad, so what did he get from her? like, I understand why the two of them kind of have to stay as these super vague and mysterious figures -- the whole point of them is that their story ended 400+ years ago and they're not really relevant anymore (and. well. the more that gets explained about them, the less that can just kinda be handwaved as "oh the politics were Very Messy") (we can sit here and theorize all day but let us acknowledge that, ultimately, canon gave us almost nothing about them post-Meleanor and we'd just be making things up). I do still wonder about her though! RIP Lea, we never knew you and we probably never will.

actually you know what, as long as we're here, I think I WILL go ahead and just make some stuff up about what Silver might've inherited from her instead.

[evangelicgrl]

hcs + mini scenarios: saja boys as yanderes

they say “love can be too much”, but when you’re talking about literal demons from hell, the lines begin to blur. (un)fortunately for you, you’re the special recipient of their monstrous desires. will you resist or give in?

warnings: MDNI. contains general yandere themes (possessive and obsessive behavior, freaky behavior, stalking, killing, manipulation, etc.) however, i’m fond of “soft yanderes” the most so that’s what you’ll be seeing here, meaning none of them force reader to do anything against their will.

wc: 3,220

jinu

after being consumed by his guilt and shame for four centuries, he has already come to terms with his demonic nature despite the torment being never-ending, slowly eating away at the last flickers of his soul. it doesn’t matter anymore, he only needs you to share his pain with. if not you, then there is no one else. you’re irreplaceable in his eyes.

he’s highly methodical when it comes to executing his plans. being in control means less mistakes, and less mistakes mean less shame. jinu is prudent, he bargains his way through everything with cunning schemes and flowery words; he won’t do anything that won’t benefit the both of you. in the end, he subjects himself to further damnation by convincing himself you will be his salvation. it’s a vicious cycle he’s not willing to break.

with most people he’s standoffish and unapproachable—cocky even. he would be aloof, and he will make it known that he is a tough nut to crack. he won’t give anyone chances to distract him from pursuing you. when it comes to you though, it’s a whole other story. it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he folds for you. he puts you on a high pedestal, thinking you’re above everyone else, including himself. if you tease him about it he won’t deny it nor get mad at you, he’ll only get pouty.

overcompensating for his past mistakes, jinu would always want to do everything in his power to provide for your needs. want him to wash the dishes? they’re squeaky clean before you can say anything. want him to cook for you? you don’t even have to ask, just tell him you’re hungry and he’ll deal with the rest! you need him to beat someone up in your stead? say no more, darling! he doesn’t ever stop to think whether you’re in the right or wrong because he doesn’t care.

for a while, being in a relationship with him will almost look normal, that is until you notice some of your items going missing, him insisting to have a cctv installed inside your bedroom for “protection” or whatever, him sticking close only to you while being wary of everyone else, and some blood stains appearing on his clothes here and there that he always insists were minor injuries he got from touring with the saja boys.

“this is the third time we’ve installed another cctv, jinu. i think our home's secure enough, don’t you think?” you raised an eyebrow, nudging the raven-haired man’s side. jinu hummed, not paying any mind to what you’ve just said. how can he, when he feels everything is right when you’re near? he tightened his hold around your waist, hiding his face on the crook of your neck.

jinu breathes in your smell. god, you’re so intoxicating; he wants to crawl inside you and never leave.

“i know, but i don’t want anything to happen to you while i’m on tour with the saja boys; i worry about you a lot,” he whispers. he begins peppering kisses on your bare skin slowly; you shivered at the sensation. “fine, but this is the last one, alright?” you almost stuttered, your face heating up from his ministrations.

“of course, my love.” he considers the thought of marking you up with his sharp canines right here, right now, but he immediately disregards the thought.

he won’t do anything that will make you hate him, he’s lost far too much for him to mess this relationship up now. as for his obsessive monitoring of your everyday life and your coworkers who were too friendly with you winding up dead mysteriously… well, ignorance is bliss, right?

abby

abby is pretty flexible and adaptable. it doesn’t take him long to get used to new environments like the human world. being able to find shortcuts for a speedy escape route easily works to his advantage if he messes up a murder. sure, he can be quite an airhead sometimes, but he’s not that stupid. he gets his way around problems with his fists first, so as long as he doesn’t encounter complicated people—demons—like jinu, he’ll be fine.

he’s quite violent, and his muscles are put to good use when it comes to bashing heads in; he’s pleased by this fact, they’re not sturdy-looking for nothing! abby can snap most things in half just from sheer strength alone. with that being said, while abby is brash, he’s not entirely careless. he knows how to control himself like exerting the right force when he’s holding something and breaking someone’s neck.

no matter what you look like and whether or not you’re physically stronger than him, they won’t matter to abby. in his head you’re someone special to him, therefore he treats you gently like glass. god forbid he accidentally breaks a bone or two in your body, because he won’t ever forgive himself for it. while he’s proud of his muscles, he’s surprisingly self conscious about his strength at times, especially when he’s with you. he’s aware enough that a demon’s physique is far superior than a human’s.

ironically enough, he’s a physically affectionate guy. he wants to be close to you at all times, touching or holding you in some way both in public and in private. he doesn’t really care if people around him are bothered by the pda, your opinion is the only thing he holds in high regard. if you don’t tell him to behave, then he won’t have any qualms draping his body all over yours while you’re out and about.

abby is also extremely protective, he gives little thought to how other people and demons alike perceive you, which means he deems anyone that stares too long at you a threat. his cleanups after a particular murderous streak are sloppy, but he tries his best since he doesn’t want you to find out. additionally, nobody will be spared once he’s done dealing with the imbeciles who thought they could get away with disrespecting you. you never asked him to be one, but he sees himself as your knight in shining abs anyway.

“i’ve heard from my friend the creep around our area got their head bashed in to the point they became unrecognizable,” you recounted to abby, whose focus is entirely on lifting weights twice the size of his arms.

“oh yeah?” he replied in a disinterested manner, clearly he couldn’t give less of a shit about that bastard; he’d gladly do it again if given the chance.

serves them right for attempting to assault you.

“if i’m being honest, whoever the perpetrator was, they did us all a favor,” you sighed in relief. he smiles. good, you’re happy. if only you knew he did it all for you.

“agreed.” abby figured a curt response was enough to not give him away. he might not be smart in all the right ways like a certain raven-haired demon was, but he always tries his best to watch what he says in front of you. if you believe abby is a cocky yet sweet musclehead who can do no wrong, then he’d be happy to keep up the illusion for you.

you don’t need to know about his true nature right now, that can wait.

romance

he’s the most obsessive one out of the bunch, which is unsurprising given his namesake. rather than monopolizing your attention and going after others who do, he spends most of his time thinking about you and finding more information about you. it’s a miracle you’ve never caught him in the act once. in his opinion, even though he’s not the brightest, he still knows his way around whenever he stalks you, which is an everyday occurrence.

everything you say, do, and give attention to, romance is instantly filing them all away in his sick head. after all, if he knows everything about you, then you won’t ever feel the need to throw him away and replace him with a good for nothing human. he might have not told you that he’s a demon yet, but when he treats you so right, surely you’ll accept him? he hopes you do; he really, really does. his whole life revolves around you at this point that if you reject him, he doesn’t know what he’ll do.

it’s fitting for someone like him, a nameless demon who can only recall vague memories of his past life; it’s alright, he doesn’t care one bit at all. why live in the past when he can live in the present? after all, you’re the one who gives his eternal suffering meaning. the reason he became “romance saja” was to come into your life and for you to come into his, that he’s sure of now. he wholeheartedly believes you’re his soulmate.

romance appears suave and calm in front of you, sweeping you off your feet with flirtatious remarks. internally though, all he wants is for you to take charge of his every action and make him bend to your will; salivating at the thought, it’s basically his number one fantasy. other demons might call him pathetic for submitting to a human, but he knows they’re wrong. he won’t do it for all humans, only you. you’re different from the rest.

while he’s relatively harmless, he’s still a demon, making him highly destructive when he’s feeling emotional. if push comes to shove, he won’t hesitate to tear out someone’s throat open. once it reaches this point, then it means he’s been pushed to the brink of insanity. he would be blinded by his rage so much so he might not even realize he did something heinous until he recovers and calms down. be careful with how you treat him, you wouldn’t want his hidden jagged edges to come out.

“romance, you did pretty great during your photoshoot! i bet the fans would love it!” your eyes twinkled, smiling at him brightly. romance smiles unsurely, then tilts his head in confusion. “the fans? but i did it for you since you’re into that designer brand, right?”

he hums and twirls you around, his lovesick gaze becoming apparent. “you’re right, but the fans are much more important.” you laugh. his eyes darkened.

“no, they’re not.”

“huh?” you blink. what was that?

you don’t know if it was just your imagination, but you could’ve sworn his eyes flashed yellow for a second. you shake your head and sigh, maybe it’s the stress getting to you now.

“i mean, compared to the fans, you’re still my darling beloved. naturally, your opinion matters to me the most.” his hands settle on your waist as he pulls you in and leans his forehead on your own. “so, do you like it or not?”

“of course i do! don’t be silly, romance.” you chuckled, tweaking his nose playfully. he sighed as he pulls you closer to him.

everything he does is for your approval, he hopes you won’t forget that.

mystery

to this day, nobody can get a good read of his overall personality; the fact that he opts to hide half of his face doesn’t help either. he leans into his demonic instincts more compared to the rest, seeing no reason to pretend he could act like a human again when he’s anything but. because of this, he’s easily the most feral guy of the group, making him highly indecipherable. he navigates his way around his environment with quick, silent precision akin to a predator studying its prey.

don’t be fooled by his looks and seemingly placid demeanor, he’s freaky and would most likely be the type to dig around in your dirty laundry to sniff and lick your used clothes and undergarments; he feels invigorated doing this, it reminds him that deep inside his undead body, he can still feel. and because he doesn’t express himself half of the time, he relies on your emotions to gauge his options and do what he feels would make you be the least upset with him.

with you, mystery learns to have some semblance of control over himself. however, there are times when he can’t reel it in, so if he growls at someone getting too close to you, just tell him off and he’ll snap out of it. while he mutters a string of apologies, take this time to pet his head and reward him for a job well done in order for him to really remember what you want from him. to an extent, you can condition him to do your bidding if you’re determined enough to do so.

despite this, he’s highly possessive of you. if your family and friends are the type of people who hog you all to themselves, they would be in danger with him around. regardless of your relationships with other people, he doesn’t take too kindly to scum taking away what is his. mystery may not hurt you in any way, but the others are free game to him. simply eating their souls will not be enough, he’s brutal and would often prolong torturing people and/or demons if he despised them enough.

he goes to extreme lengths to show you he doesn’t mean any harm to you. more often than not, he likes showing off his qualities he thinks you appreciate the best; compliments can go a long way with him. your praise and your smiles directed at him repeating in his mind's eye like a mantra he never wants to end. before you, he never cared for anyone else, but now that you’re here, the love he has for you makes his nonexistent dead heart threaten to burst out of his chest. he's animalistic in a lot of ways, but even then he’s still considerate with your needs if you just forget the fact he likes stealing your underwear.

“stay away from them before you regret it,” mystery warned the person before him. his posture is rigid as he stares them down with a menacing aura, not backing out from the confrontation. “hey, hey! mystery! what did i say about threatening other people?!” you pulled him aside and reprimanded him. the other person could only blink in bewilderment before scurrying off to who knows where.

you imagined a pair of puppy ears appear on his head when he frowned and dipped his head in shame.

“sorry…” he whispers, if it weren’t for the fact that this café is sparse right now, you wouldn’t have heard him, and to be put into this position is embarrassing enough as is. “whatever, let’s just go home. i lost my appetite anyway,” you mumble.

mystery observes your facial expression under his bangs, the gears creaking and turning inside his head. he’s really done it, huh? well then, he just needs to make it up to you once you’re home.

he stares at your plump limps intently, feeling somewhat excited to make you sing praises for him again while he worships your body.

baby

on one hand, baby is bratty, mean, and everything in between; he’s evil incarnate with someone who isn’t you. on the other hand, he’s angelic and caring with you. the duality of his personality never fails to astound the others around him. being a master of deception, he can be quite unpredictable and hard to read, always hiding his devious tricks with a bright smile and an “innocent” gaze. you’re lucky he loves you, because the ones he hates aren’t so lucky. the fact that they crossed paths with him to begin with already sealed their fates.

he absolutely adores being spoiled by you; he would play up his charm to 1000% if it meant he gets to be the little spoon during your cuddling sessions for a while longer. your warmth enveloping him comforts him, and he would kill for this very same comfort if he feels it’s getting threatened by an outside force. he’s also possessive, but not to the extent that mystery is. he knows how to be mindful and play his cards right. if he needs to paint the others as bad people in your eyes to make him look good in return then so be it.

with that being said, baby is not entirely opposed to the idea of spoiling you instead. he finds it comes easier to him whenever you’re put in a state where you have no choice but to rely on someone’s help, such as being ill and bedridden or being drunk out of your mind. during these times, he coos into your ear and tells you he’ll never allow anyone other than him to take care of you since he knows you the best, and it’s true! his long record of stalking you proves that!

you’ll never have a dull day with him, somehow he always makes you do either creative or outlandish things, of course given that doing them won’t harm you. he thinks he’ll shrivel up and die if he accidentally gives you a paper cut while folding paper cranes for fun. he’ll offer to let you slice his skin with the same paper too "to make it even” because he’s simply weird like that. it doesn’t matter whether you indulge his odd requests or not, he will keep asking something similar anyway whenever he accidentally hurts you.

baby is extremely cruel, but he’s efficient with his murders, choosing to take the fastest route possible. he doesn’t want to spend any more time than necessary looking at his victims’ disgusting and ugly faces while the light in their eyes fades away. the satisfaction he feels from killing people is only fleeting, and before he knows it, he’s immediately cleaning up after himself so he can go back in your arms as soon as possible. you’re the only one that matters to him in this world!

“baby! i bought ice cream from the store!” closing the front door behind you, you slipped off your shoes and began trudging in the living room. not a second later, a blur of blue zooms towards you, engulfing you in a bear hug. “yay! welcome back, sweetie!” his cheers were muffled by your clothes seeing as he buried his face in them.

you laugh at his antics, bringing a hand up to brush his bangs away from his face. in response, he looks up at you in a daze.

“okay, let’s get this bad boy in the freezer before it melts.”

“aye, aye! captain!” he jokingly salutes before helping you carry the other things you brought along with you. but then he stops in his tracks, his gaze falling on the scratch on your hand. it was light enough to not be seen by the human eye, but unfortunately he’s a demon.

and demons have sharper senses.

“where did you get that?” you look down to your hand, and you chuckle. “oh, this?” he slowly nodded. “i accidentally grazed a sharp object at work today. it’s nothing serious, don’t worry.”

“i see!” and just like that, he’s back to his cheerful self. you didn’t know it yet, but he promised to himself to keep a closer eye on you from now on so he can pay a visit to the home of the person who thought leaving a sharp object around near you was a good idea.

he can hardly wait to meet them!

[remcadll]

Gen obsessed with how.. *dead* your Jason's color pallete is. Like, that's corpse pale right there. Not a spec of blood left flowing in there (also father Todd's skin being full of color in comparison is a nice touch)

THANK YOU I love making him look a bit ghoulish. Guy who's not supposed to be alive but yes he is. no he isn't <3

[wardingshout]

Zelda goes mushroom girl

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!��� Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[hootyhoowoo]

A little 15 min doodle but first post of the year has to be Bingqiu!

[lily-claw]

got inspiration from @marronje 's art and also from these ones

[thehighmass]

if I could please have some prayers.

a couple of months ago, we found out I’m pregnant with my second, and am a lot further along than would’ve been expected. after finding out I was a bit baffled, because I’ve been heavy bleeding for a really long time, so how could I be pregnant? or am I having a miscarriage? what’s going on?

well, turns out I have placenta previa.

since it was found decently early on in the second trimester, there’s a likelihood that my placenta will move up (God willing), but given how much I’m bleeding and how painful it all has been I’m not very hopeful.

so whatever happens happens, and it’s out of our hands entirely, but prayers would be appreciated.

[vekreng]

Tech - Totally Not Crushing

prompt: "...something with tech and an awkward reader maybe they admit feelings for each other or they are caught being cute by the rest of the batch and they tease them?.." pairing: Tech x Reader words: 2.2k requested: yes!

You didn’t know if you wanted to scream for the sake of screaming or if you wanted to throw yourself in front of some wild beast.

It had been an absolute age since you met the Batch, and him. The individual members were all striking in their own way, but none stood out more to you than Tech.

Your throat buzzed with an idle hum as you watched him tinker on the Marauder. He wasn’t as physically strong as his other brothers, no, but his intellect was unmatched. He could see patterns in nature and people that were indecipherable to most, pointing out what was about to happen before even Hunter could pick it up at times. His mind stored a vast wealth of knowledge on just about everything you could name and then some. He lacked subtlety in only the most adorable way. His round, soft eyes looked gentler still through the amber lenses of his goggles. He checked on you after every mission or trip, asked for your assistance on just about every task.

Time and time again you tried to confess, and time and time again the words died on your tongue. You tried when you were paired up alone on a mission, when you two had to sneak through a palace, when you two were the only ones awake one night in hyperspace. It was always so perfect, except for… for what? Why could you never tell him? Nerves, maybe? Perhaps the way his eyes locked with yours caused you to instantly short circuit and forget everything you ever knew. Yeah. That was definitely it. A very logical explanation. 

Your eyes followed the fluid movement of his hands, his skillful fingers practically dancing through the ship’s wires as he teased out minor bugs in favor of much larger ones that he will try to convince Hunter are actually improvements.

God, you loved him.

If only you could just say it.

“Staring is only going to put him off, you know,” a voice drawled from behind. You whipped around in a panic, only to see Crosshair grinning your way. “Pretty sure you don’t want that.”

“Cross!” You scolded, pinching the bridge of your nose. God, of course it had to be him. “Give a bit of warning next time, maybe?”

“I’m a sniper. It’s quite literally my job to not give any warning.” He pushed himself off the door frame he was leaning on and made his way to your side, leaning down ever so slightly to be more level with you while you both watched Tech work. “What’s your goal here? Memorize every aspect of what he looks like so you can dream about him at night? Or are you going to say something like a normal person?”

“You’re such an ass,” you grumbled, glaring at the ground. “You have no idea how hard this is for me. What if he rejects me? We all live on one very tiny ship, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle that tension! Or what if I do tell him and he just doesn’t get what I’m saying and I have to spend ages trying to get more and more blunt and obvious about it. Do you really expect me to live out the rest of my life reliving that moment forever?”

“And what if you tell him and he says he feels the same way?” Crosshair argued back. “Talk to him or leave him alone. You make me want to throw up every time I see how lovesick you are over him.”

“I can’t, Crosshair! I freeze up every time I try!” 

The sniper spun you around to face him. “In this line of work, freezing up could mean death for you and your teammates. You take action when it’s needed; I’ve seen you do it. What’s so different about this? Get it together, walk over there, and tell him how you really feel, before you don’t get to tell him at all.”

You could only blink at him.

------

Hunter peeked around the edge of the Marauder briefly to watch you and Crosshair fighting before turning back to Tech. “You’re going to have to face them eventually, you know.”

“I do not understand your meaning. I face them every day.” Tech soldered a broken wire together, tugging lightly on one end to ensure the connection was strong. “Your statement is baseless.”

“You’re misinterpreting my words on purpose,” Hunter pointed out as he waved to Wrecker. The strongest of them all brought over a massive crate of spare parts and started handing bits of them to Tech. “I’ve seen how you are. Somehow, you’ve mastered the art of having as much interaction with them as possible while also avoiding them.”

“I do not avoid anyone.”

Hunter barked out a laugh. “Oh, really? Then why do you only take piloting shifts when theirs isn’t right before or after yours, or run off into only known safe markets and leave us all behind?” He passed a spanner to his brother. “But when we’re in unfamiliar territory, you refuse to leave their side unless one of us is already sticking with them, and even then you try to weasel your way in. Face it, Tech. We all know you’ve got a bit of a crush on them.”

Tech maneuvered to the underside of the ship, his face a light sheen of red. “Ensuring the safety of a teammate is not evidence of a crush, Hunter. I am merely showing caution in hostile territory.”

“I think the only person who doesn’t know that you’re in love is them,” Wrecker butted in, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to where you and Crosshair were squabbling. Hunter glanced over to see that Crosshair had put you in a headlock and refused to release you until you cried uncle. “You’re not really good at hidin’ it, to be honest.”

Tech huffed. “As I keep telling you both, I—”

Hunter suddenly called out your name, cutting Tech off. “We need to get a few more supplies before we take off. Can you help Tech finish things up here while we head to the stalls?”

Crosshair kicked your leg when you opened your mouth. “Yeah, we can’t trust you to get actual essentials. Besides, you probably know as much about the Marauder as Tech does by this point.”

Before you could protest, the three brothers vanished into the shadows of the docking station.

You gulped. Crosshair’s words looped in your head.

It had to happen at some point, you suppose.

Slowly, you walked to where Tech was gathering up his tools. “I thought you had more work to do?”

“I do,” Tech replied, not looking up from his task, “but the remaining repairs are inside the ship.”

Great, you thought as you followed, all alone and in a confined space. What could possibly go wrong?

------

You were pretty sure that you were going to implode if you spent another minute helping Tech in the cockpit. 

Somehow the man was far too close and much too far away at the same time. You inched nearer and he pulled back. You gave him space and he closed in. Every time you opened your mouth to speak he would unknowingly interrupt with some sort of commentary or delegation, and when you closed it he looked at you expectantly for a comment. Ugh, it was infuriating. Just speak already! Tell him you love him!

You took a deep breath. Alright, this time, for sure. No more backing out. You can do this. It’s just three words. You’ve got this.

You steadied the rickety stepladder that Tech insisted on using to reach a panel in the ceiling. A few safety lights had gone out and Hunter was worried that it was an indication of something bad despite the protests of his sibling.

This was it.

Another breath. “Hey, uh, Tech?”

Tech hummed. His head was completely buried in the darkness of the ship’s interior system.

You squeezed your eyes shut to muster up all the courage you possibly could. “Look, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, for… a while now. And I was hoping that, since everyone else is gone, we could talk— HOLY—”

Tech shouted in surprise as the ancient stepladder finally gave out from underfoot, his flailing limbs knocking the both of you over, crashing hard enough into the floor for you both to see stars briefly.

“That hurt,” you muttered as you forced your eyes back open. It took a second for them to focus, but once they did, you realized with a start that you were looking into Tech’s.

Which were mere inches away from yours.

Because he had also fallen.

Conveniently, you cushioned his fall.

Oh no.

Tech’s mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again, and closed again. Even in your horror you couldn’t help but think that he looked an awful lot like a fish.

“I apologize,” he finally spluttered, scrambling off of you and sitting against the wall. “I, it was not my intention to, I mean, that is….” He hesitated. “I’m sorry. Are you injured?”

You slowly sat up, rubbing a hand over the shoulder that hit the ground first. “A little sore, but I’ll be okay. What about you?”

Tech carefully tilted his head back and forth. “Nothing is broken. My fall was successfully broken, albeit accidentally.” He looked back at you, his goggles askew and one lens fractured. “I should have calculated the risks of using that ladder more thoroughly. My carelessness resulted in your harm; I will grab the bacta patches. Remain here.”

“Tech, wait!”

He paused when your hand landed unexpectedly on his upper arm, staring blankly at it before focusing on you. “Yes?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Your… oh, just hold still for a second.” You reached up and removed his goggles, peering at the right lens. The crack didn’t stretch fully across, but the glass was compromised nonetheless and would need a replacement. “They’ll work for now, but I really hope you have a repair kit somewhere for these. Or a whole separate pair.” Carefully, you pulled the bent frame edges back into place before refitting them to his face. “How’s that?”

Tech let out a small puff, the air surprisingly cold against your hot skin.

Wait. Hot?

Oh, you were much closer than you previously thought. Oh. Oh no.

 “Thank you.” Your name escaped Tech’s lips in a whisper.

“Yeah,” you breathed, your head reeling from the proximity between you two. Or the fall and subsequent head injury. “Any time.”

The silence that followed felt like a lifetime, but a clock proved it to be only a few seconds.

“...Tech,” you said slowly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. The timing felt so off, so wrong, so inappropriate somehow, but you already let too many ‘proper’ opportunities slip by. You couldn’t take the chance again. “Look, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now. I wanted to tell you that I’m—”

“I love you!” Tech blurted out, grimacing right after for cutting you off.

Now it was your turn to make an impression of a fish.

“I’m… I’ve loved you for some time now. I love your smile, I love the crinkle by your eyes when you squint, I love how you look when you’re lost in thought. I love your laugh, your kindness, the way you look after my brothers just as we do to you. I love the effort you put into helping in any way you can, and how you show grace when someone makes a mistake. I know you’re leaving, but I had to tell you.”

Your finger tapped an uncertain rhythm on the floor of the Marauder, your brain running a thousand miles per second. Tech loved you back? And he thought you were leaving? “Why do you think I’m going away?”

“Echo has gone to work with Captain Rex once more; it was only logical that your recent shift in behavior and desire to express something important indicated you felt similarly,” Tech explained. “Was that… not accurate?”

You couldn’t help but laugh and oh, the sound was so sweet to your own ears. It was a mixture of pure joy and relief. “No, Tech, it wasn’t that. I just wanted to let you know that I love you too.” Your hand found his, your foreheads gently knocking together. “I love how serious you are, how studious you can be, how attentive you are to the world around you. I love how you ask me to explain social mannerisms in exchange for a personalized research dive on whatever I want. I love watching you be confident and skillful in your work, and I love when you let me convince you to relax and let someone else take over. I love you, Tech, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“That makes two of us, then,” Tech smiled. “Though I think any further discussion should be put on hold until we get a bacta patch on your shoulder.”

A snort escaped your nose. “I’ll allow a distraction just this once, so long as you promise to help me out with it.”

“Naturally.”

[royaldollybox]

The heart killers text post part 7 ft. Ep 7

Devine bouts of madness took over me making these

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

[saltcxrcle]

you did what? ── . ✶ sam and dean winchester

summary: dean has the bright idea to play never have i ever

pairings: platonic winchesters x afab bi! reader, implied past! ruby x afab! reader warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', reader is afab but no pronouns are used, fluff, humor, drinking, mentions of sex, reader is bisexual, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own word count: 2.0K a/n: was supposed to be a silly blurb but its a one shot lol. also this is so self indulgent lmaoo and i was talking about this with mari on the phone, i just love bi!reader fics and shocking the winchesters with information i also love love ruby and i need to write her so bad so if any one wants me to to write the aforementioned event mentioned i will LOL winchesters masterlist

YOU HONESTLY DON’T know how you got here. Well, you do, but you’re slowly regretting your decision to ever befriend the Winchesters, wanting the ground to swallow you whole as they stared at you incredulously. But it wasn’t your fault that their dad would use your Mom’s house as a dumping ground for the two of them when he was on a hunt in your state. While your Mom graciously took them in every time, you knew, even from a young age, that she had her gripes with the elder Winchester, who dragged his kids across the country hunting monsters. 

Growing up with the Winchesters was certainly interesting. You liked hearing the stories that Dean would tell you and Sam about hunting since your Mom retired as soon as she had you. You remember any time that they came over, the three of you were like peas in a pod (your Mom’s words, not yours) and would play and mess with each other each chance you got (typically, it was Sam and you versus Dean most of the time).

As the three of you got older, you saw each other less. Still, you tried to keep in contact—but eventually, Sam went to college, and you guys stopped talking to each other altogether. Until they ran into you on a hunt while trying to find their dad. After the hunt, you guys reconnected at the bar in town and traded numbers. 

Throughout the years, you would run into them on hunts and help them out if they needed it as their lives increasingly became crazier and crazier. 

Currently, you were sat at the map table next to Sam and across from Dean in the bunker that they had found due to their grandfather coming from the past looking for John (which was the weirdest thing that they told you when they invited you for the tour of their home base, but then again, weird is normal for those two). The three of you were having a lazy day due to there being nothing in the news that seemed to be your brand of weird and would warrant the three of you to have left the bunker.

You spent most of the day lounging in the clothes you slept in. After dinner, Dean pulled out his good scotch and three glasses, poured each of you a healthy amount, and started to talk about old hunts and reminiscing on the past. You were about a glass in, now on your second one, when Dean suggested that the three of you play Never Have I Ever, which Sam protested against. When Dean looked at you for the tiebreaker, you shrugged, saying why not since you had nothing better to do. 

Dean grinned at you and sent a smug look to his brother while Sam rolled his eyes at him. 

The questions were pretty tame until they started to venture into the types of conquests that either of you three had throughout the years, which made you learn a little too much about their sex lives (you already knew enough about Dean’s, but now you had to hear Sam’s which was very interesting, to say the least). 

Dean had just finished taking a sip of his dwindling glass. “Okay, my turn.” He had a mischievous glint in his eye as he shot a look at his brother.

“Never have I ever slept with a demon.” Dean had an arrogant smile on his face as he leaned back in his chair. 

The question was clearly a dig at his brother, to which Sam had scoffed and shook his head. Sam lifted his glass off the table and took a healthy sip of it before putting it back down. His brows furrowed when he saw Dean’s mouth agape in shock. He glanced at you, setting your drink down on the table as well. 

Sam looked at you, confused as to why you took a drink before it hit him, his confused expression morphing into one that mirrored his brother’s. 

You felt warm, slightly embarrassed by their gazes on you. You knew that this was the reaction they would have toward you, but it still didn’t feel the best. 

“Wh-what? When? How?” Dean sputtered out as he looked at you like you were crazy. 

Sam stayed silent, the questions flooding his brain, but Dean had vocalized most of them for him. 

You cleared your throat. “Well, I think it’s my turn anyway. So never-” 

“Nope, we’re not playing until you answer the question.” Dean cut you off and stared at you intently. 

“It’s not any of your business, Dean.” You said through gritted teeth, wanting to move on from the conversation. 

“If you don’t tell us, I’m just going to assume the worst and think you slept with Crowley.” Dean pointed at you before taking a sip of his drink. 

Your face screwed up in disgust. “EW! No, I didn’t sleep with Crowley. I’d rather be chewed up by a wendigo than even kiss him.” 

“Did you know they were a demon before sleeping with them?” Sam questioned. 

You whipped your head to stare at Sam in disbelief. “Really Sam?” 

He shrugged. “Sorry, but can’t blame me for being curious. You’re the last person I’d expect to sleep with a demon.” 

“Has anyone told you curiosity killed the cat?” You snarked as you narrowed your eyes at the shaggy-haired man.

“Yeah, well, satisfaction brought it back.” Sam quipped back as he shot you a smug smile, and you were debating on escaping to your room, but you knew that they would not give up the interrogation until you told them. 

You let out a defeated sigh, leaning back in your seat. “Yes, I knew they were a demon before I slept with them.” 

“Okay, who was it? Was it anyone we knew?” Dean asked. 

You sighed before nodding. You took a sip of your drink before glancing at Sam. “Uh, it was Ruby.” You mumbled into the rim of your glass. 

Neither man heard you. “Sorry, we didn’t exactly hear that.” Sam said. 

Dean nodded. "Wanna say it louder for the the two of us?"

You scrunched your nose, placing your glass on the table. “I slept with Ruby.” You said louder than before, avoiding their gazes. 

Both men were rendered speechless. You and Ruby infamously didn’t get along. There was an animosity between the two of you from the moment you spotted the brunette in Sam’s room when Dean came back from Hell.

Yeah, Sam tolerated her most of the time, and Dean didn’t trust her at all and kept her as far away from him as he could, but the two of you butted heads like no other. There were a couple of times when they thought you were going to kill her, but apparently, that wasn’t the case. 

Dean opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to find any words to say before shutting it. 

“Oh." Sam cleared his throat. "But I thought the two of you hated each other?" 

“We definitely did.” You nodded. “But, it was only once. Well, maybe it was like a couple of times actually now that I’m thinking about it.” 

Dean looked at you wide-eyed. “I have so many questions.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Just ask them.” You wanted this conversation to be over and done with. 

“How did it even happen the first time?” 

“Do you remember that haunting a couple of hours away from Bobby’s place? In Topeka?” You asked them, trying to jog their memory. 

“Not really.” 

“Well, the two of you were a little busy with the seals so I went and checked it out and I wrapped it up pretty fast. But when I went back to my motel room after burning the bones, she was there.” 

You remember it like it was yesterday. You were exhausted from digging up the grave, used to having one of the boys helping you, or even better, they were doing it while you held the flashlight. But they stayed behind at Bobby's. So you were left to do it yourself. You were tired and covered in dirt, and all you wanted to do was shower and fall face-first into the rickety motel bed and sleep for twenty hours. 

But when you opened the door, you saw the irritating smirk stretched on Ruby’s lips as she sat at the table near the kitchenette in the room you were staying in. 

“She was being annoying as per usual and I was trying to get her out of my room, but then of course she had to provoke me and we started to argue, then the next thing I knew, I had her pinned against the wall and kissing her. And you can probably guess the rest.” You scratched the back of your neck sheepishly as you looked down at your almost empty glass, avoiding the burning stares of the Winchesters. 

You decided to down the rest of the liquid in your cup before placing it on the table. You looked at Dean to see a faraway look in his eyes, and you squinted at him before realizing what he was doing. 

“Hey!” You clapped your hands to try and snap him out of his daydream. “Stop imagining it dude, that’s gross, not to mention really weird.” 

You shook your head and glanced at Sam to see the same look on his face. Then, you scowled at him, snapping your fingers in front of his face as well. 

“Are you kidding me Sam?” 

Sam blinked and shook his head, having the decency to look apologetic. “Sorry, it’s just…” He trailed off. 

“It’s hot. You know, that you and Ruby fu-” 

“Finish that sentence Dean and I swear that I’ll make sure that you’ll have a black eye in the morning.” You cut him off as you glared at the man sitting across from you. 

Dean raised his hands in defense. “I was just saying. Besides Sammy here was thinking about the same thing, probably even more considering he slept with her too.” 

“Shut up Dean.” Sam shot a scowl at his brother. 

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me you actually were though.” 

Sam’s silence spoke volumes, and you just shook your head at him. 

“So, are we done with this interrogation or can we continue on with this stupid game.” 

“One more question.” 

You groaned at Dean’s words. “What is it?”

“Did she ever tell you who was better in bed, You or Sam?”

“Really Dean?” Sam sighed tiredly (but secretly, he wanted to know).

You couldn’t help the smirk on your face at the question before you shook your head and got rid of it. “Not gonna answer that one.” 

Dean grumbled before finally moving on from the subject. The three of you stayed up pretty late before you retired for the night. You were about to get into bed after getting ready to sleep, but there was a soft knock on your door. You padded over to it and opened it to see Sam in the entryway. 

“What’s up Sam?” You asked softly, wondering why he was at your door this late. 

He looked a little nervous as he ran a hand through his hair. “Did she actually tell you?” 

You furrowed your brows. “Who?” 

“Ruby.” He murmured. 

Oh. Oh. You sent him a playful smile. “Why? Did you want to compare notes?” You teased, and you could see the slight blush grow on Sam’s face. 

Sam started to stammer, and you couldn’t help but laugh gently at him. You reached out and rested a hand on his arm to stop him from stuttering out a useless excuse. 

“She never told me who was 'better'. Ruby never stayed long after we would sleep together.” You told him with a slight smile on your face. 

He nodded in understanding, his shoulders relaxing at your answer. You squeezed his arm before telling him ‘goodnight,’ and he did the same before walking down the hall towards his room. You closed your door and smiled to yourself. 

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. 

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[the-broken-pen]

Hey hey

Could you perhaps write a snippet where the building hero is in, gets bombed? Its bombed as an assassination attempt to get them, however the people in that building die and hero, succumbed to their injuries couldn't save everyone of them. At last they watched the last ambulance left without them, even as they called for help

Villians villa is just few kilometres away

Thankfu hero's legs aren't broken

They begin walking

The problem? Vil is way to composed and prim and perfect to let all of hero's blood get on their expensive carpets and fabrics. They could even be mad at the hero for reddening their porch if they hero stood their asking for bandages. What now? And the fight the two had yesterday that ended with "never see me again" and "don't ever talk to me"s.....vil was stopping hero from attending the event the building....

Will vil help them? They can just ask for bandages and leave.

What hero doesn't know: vil would literally destroy the world for hero, and there's no way in hell are they leaving hero on their doorstep.

(Anon you were cooking with this ask, thank you!)

The hero realized the building was going to explode a split second before it did, which wasn’t enough time to do anything other than brace.

They tensed, and there was a horrible screeching of metal and brick, followed by a deafening silence that covered them more completely than the rubble did.

The hero coughed once, weakly, pain rocketing through their chest, and shoved a piece of concrete off themself.

From somewhere else in the building, a soft, terrified wail began, broken around desperate sobs.

The hero coughed again, hand rising to their ribs. They didn’t have the energy to be surprised when their fingers came back coated in blood and dust. They grimaced at it, struggling to their feet–

And oh, god. That hurt.

The hero had a surgery once, the kind that resulted in bandages and a care regime and a set of stitches, and when they had woken up in the recovery unit, it had felt sort of like this. A moment of loopy half-awareness, and then a pain that had knocked the breath out of them, hands clenching into the sheets as a nurse tried to figure out if they needed more medication. 

This was worse. Their vision swam, and they blinked it back with a hiss.

Because someone, somewhere in the wreckage, was crying. And if one person was crying, it meant there was someone who survived. Which meant it was likely there were other survivors–ones too hurt to make any noise, ones knocked unconscious, ones still too shocked to do anything other than lay there–and it was the hero’s job to find them.

It took them far too long to locate the source of the crying. Longer to dig them out, vision going white as the person slammed into the hero’s chest in some facsimile of a terrified hug.

“You’re okay,” they managed, voice like gravel. “It’s okay. I’m going to get you out, and you’re going to be just fine. Were you with anyone?”

And then again, and again, and again.

The hero panted, hands on their knees as their body fought them in an attempt to just collapse onto the concrete below. They just–they just needed a minute. Just one, maybe, and then they could–

This time, the hero wasn’t even aware of it before it happened.

The remains of the building shook, then disintegrated into itself in a plume of dust and rock. The hero shielded their eyes with one hand, blinking against the onslaught.

What little air they had managed to get stuttered out of their lungs in something close to a sob. They had done this enough times to know there wasn’t anyone in that building left alive. 

They sagged down against the nearest thing–more rubble, maybe? They didn’t know–and this time when they rested a hand on their side, there was a considerably larger amount of blood.

“That’s…not great,” they said, and their fingers blurred in front of them slightly. There was an ambulance right there. Just a couple feet away. They had already helped most of the survivors, so maybe it would be okay for the hero to–

A paramedic rounded the back of the ambulance, and the hero lifted a hand, reaching–

“Please, wait, I think–I think,” it hurt coming out of their mouth, “help. Please I need–” they trailed off as the paramedic took the step up into the ambulance.

And closed the door behind them.

The hero wasn’t even that surprised when the ambulance began to drive away.

“Help,” they finished weakly, then sucked a breath in through their nose.

They were supposed to be good at this kind of thing. Surviving, no, thriving in catastrophe. A pillar of light. The one with the plan. 

The kind of being that didn’t beg for help on the ground.

The hero wasn’t entirely sure how they managed to get themselves back to standing. It was as easy as that–one moment they were on the ground, gravel embedded in their knees, and the next they were up and shaking but they were up.

“If I stay here, I’ll die,” they murmured. They had hoped maybe the threat would keep their legs from buckling again. It didn’t.

They weren’t near any place that could be trusted. There wasn’t a safe clinic for heroes on this side of the city, and even if there was, the hero wouldn’t trust them. Couldn’t afford to.

But as for near…the hero swallowed the nausea as it rose in their throat. There was one place they could go. One person they could go to.

Four miles. They could do four. There was no other option.

Where the hero had had some blurry recollection, or at least, a good guess of how they got to standing, they had absolutely no clue how they made it onto the villain’s porch. They managed a blink, retching slightly as they stared at the villain’s wavering door, then had to freeze just to bite down the pain that had come from the gagging.

They tried to knock and ended up collapsing against the villain’s door, knees giving out entirely as their fingers scrabbled for purchase and left behind smeared bloody marks on the wood.

They weren’t entirely sure how that happened either, or how long it took the villain to answer the door. Just that it hurt—so, so much, it hurt so–and that they managed to shove themself back into some semblance of standing right before the villain pulled the door open.

The villain’s face did a sort of spasming thing as soon as they saw the hero, jaw dropping slightly in what the hero could only really read as shock.

There was a very considerable amount of blood on the door. They were cold.

“I–” the hero tried, but they weren’t really sure where they had been going with that sentence, and after yesterday and the screaming and the fight the villain probably didn’t want to see them at all, didn’t want to ever see their face again, so–their mind blanked. “I got blood on your door.”

They tried to gesture towards it, but that hurt, so their hand simply twitched slightly from where it hung by their side.

They glanced down at their feet, because they didn’t want to see what the villain’s face was doing, especially if what it was doing was anything resembling anger.

“Oh.” There was blood at the hero’s feet. “And on your porch, too, I guess.”

They looked up at the villain, but they were still staring at them, brow furrowed, hand clenching on the doorframe.

“I’m sorry.”

There was a very faint quiver of tears when they said it, and the hero knew better than to hope the villain didn’t catch it. 

Were they saying sorry for the porch or the door or yesterday–

“Holy shit,” the villain finally breathed, and it sounded like it had been punched out of them. The hero froze, panic rising in their chest.

“I’m sorry,” the hero blurted out, stammering. “I’m–I’m so sorry, I’ll go, just–could I maybe have some bandages? Just–just one, maybe, please? I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” they said uselessly, head swimming. They couldn’t even remember what they were doing here. The villain was perfect in every sense of the word, stoic and proper and collected in a way the hero would never be; a marble statue brought to life. The idea of them letting the hero–the personification of a train wreck in motion–in to bleed all over the villain’s soft carpet and nice shoes and cause irreparable damage to their very expensive house was almost laughable. 

If they had had the breath to laugh.

More of the hero’s blood dripped onto the slats of the porch, and they stepped back. “I’m sorry–”

The villain reached for them, and the hero flinched, taking it for the dismissal it was–

The hero blinked, and it stuck for a moment too long as the world tilted, and when they pried their eyes open again the villain was staring at them with something the hero was too out of it with pain and possibly delirium to identify. Their gaze drifted back to the blood smeared on the door, and the villain’s grip tightened on the hero’s bicep–when had they grabbed the hero’s bicep?–until the hero’s gaze returned to theirs.

The villain said something, but there was a roaring that had started up in the hero’s ears. They seemed to take the uncomprehending blink the hero gave them in return for an answer anyways, and guided them down until they were both sitting on the cool wood. A tug, and the hero was resting against their own propped up knees, villain’s hand still firm on their arm.

“How much blood did you lose?”

It was like screaming underwater, the hero reasoned. Or through a mirror. But they heard it nonetheless, and that was their villain, and even in hatred and war they would always answer them.

“Was ‘supposed to be counting?” If they had any more energy–or maybe slightly more blood–in their body, the slur to their own words would have been concerning.

The villain’s lips pursed into a thin line, and the hero felt them begin to run an assessing hand over their injuries, cataloguing them, brow furrowing further with every second.

“M’sorry,” they managed, tongue thick. The villain didn’t pause.

“For what?”

“Bleeding on your door,” they managed. The villain stopped them from raising their head from their knees. “And your–porch.”

“I don’t give a shit about either of those things,” the villain said, simply, easily. Like it was nothing. Like they didn’t feel the weight of it as they threw it into the air.

The villain sat back on their heels, clearly having learned what they wanted from the hero’s injuries.

When the hero didn’t immediately look at them, the villain grabbed their chin, gently turning it until the hero faced them.

“How far did you walk,” they said slowly, and the hero had never been more grateful for anything in their life.

“Four miles,” the hero said, and they couldn’t hear their own voice above the roaring, but the villain obviously could from the way their eyes darkened.

The hero wanted no part in making the villain angry again–I never want to see you again, do you hear me? If you ever try to talk to me again I will kill the both of us, I promise you that–, but when they attempted to push themselves up to leave, the only thing they managed was a piteous whine and a stab of pain so intense they forgot to breathe.

“Idiot,” the villain hissed. But oddly, the hero didn’t sense any anger coming from the villain.

They blinked–too long, again–and found themselves in the villain’s arms as they walked through the house. Their head lolled back onto the villain’s shoulder, and the villain glanced down as if–to make sure the hero was okay. That they were conscious, and breathing.

Oh.

Oh.

The villain wasn’t angry.

They were afraid. For the hero.

Which didn’t make any sense, because–

I never want to see you again–

“You’re mad at me,” the hero reasoned, and it came out half strangled and petulant. The villain looked down at them, and the hero caught the tiniest flinch in their jaw.

“I’m not mad at you.”

“That’s not what you said yesterday,” the hero whispered, and the villain flinched.

“I wanted to stop this from happening.” The villain settled them onto a bathroom counter, lights flickering on as the hero leaned back against the mirror. Blood began to dry, sticky, between their fingers.

The hero’s mouth went dry, and it caught in their throat when they tried to swallow it.

“You could have just left me there.” Their voice only shook a little bit, but the villain’s head still snapped up from where they had been digging through a drawer.

“What?”

“On the porch,” the hero clarified, clearing their throat. The lump didn’t go away, and they had begun shaking at some point, and they couldn’t stop. “If you didn’t want to deal with me you could have just left me there–”

The villain’s face had darkened into something the hero almost didn’t recognize. 

“I would burn the world for you, and you think I would leave you to die on my porch?”

“You said you didn’t want this to happen.”

“No, that’s not–” the villain rubbed a hand over their brow, and the hero winced at the blood it left behind. “No. No, that’s not what I meant. I was trying to keep you from going to that stupid event and getting hurt. I knew it was going to blow.”

“I would have gone anyway.”

The villain stilled. “I thought maybe if you never wanted to see me again, and you knew I was there…”

“I would,” the hero repeated. “Have gone anyway.”

The hero watched as the villain’s face rippled through a dozen emotions, settling onto something unidentifiable.

“Why?”

“Because you were there,” the hero said easily, shrugging one shoulder. Because when it came to the villain, it really was that easy. They could scream, and shout, and hold a knife to the hero’s throat, and the hero would still follow them into hell. That was their villain.

The villain looked like the hero had stabbed them, face draining of color. Their fingers went white around the edge of the counter, as if it was the only thing keeping them upright.

“What,” the villain’s voice was hoarse.

“I went because I was hoping you would be there,” the hero said honestly

“Stop,” the villain raised a hand between them, a shield, voice breaking. They sucked in a breath, then another, like they were trying to keep themself from breaking down onto the tile.

“You would have gone to the event no matter what, just to see me,” the villain said slowly, and the hero nodded

“Yes.”

“Even though I screamed at you?”

“Yes.”

“And told you I hated you.”

“Villain, please–”

“Now you know,” the villain interrupted, voice incredibly soft. “Why I would have never left you on that porch.”

The hero forgot to breathe for a moment, tongue going numb in their mouth. The villain couldn’t mean–

They blinked for a moment too long, and then the villain was standing between the hero’s knees, hand on their chest.

“You love me,” the hero said a moment later.

“Ruinously,” the villain agreed.

“So you–”

“I was trying to save your life,” the villain’s hands were gentle as they began to patch up the hero’s side. “And now I’m saving your life in a new and unanticipated way. But there is nothing you could ever do to stop me from saving your life.”

The hero’s heart clenched. 

“Really?”

The villain caught their chin, eyes boring into the hero’s. They brushed a piece of hair off the side of the hero’s face.

“Really.”

The hero sighed, and the villain caught them as they slumped.

“I thought you hated me,” the hero said, and they hated how raw they sounded. The villain made a choked little noise.

“I’m so sorry.”

The hero sniffed.

“Don’t do it again.”

The villain simply hummed, and smoothed the ends of a bandage down against the hero’s abdomen. The hero could feel their hands shaking.

You scared me.

A second later, their hands settled on either side of the hero’s head, and the villain rested their face into the hero’s hair. They pressed a kiss to the hero’s temple, tension easing from their shoulders.

I’m sorry.

The hero clutched the front of the villain’s shirt between their hands, drawing them closer. The villain went willingly, loose limbed with affection and the rapid draining of terror from their system.

“I would have never left you on that porch.”

The hero had never believed anyone more.

[baisemains]

Golden Hour

Melvika Week 2025 - Day 6: Mirror Sex (@melvikaweek2025)

mel medarda x sevika

word count: 4.3k

contains: smut 🫦 , dom!sev, sub!mel, strap-on, praise kink, consensual recording during sex, spit kink, light choking, overstimulation, squirting, sev gets a little mean, sweet in the beginning but then they get freaky!

description: after finally moving in together, mel and sevika spend the first evening christening their new furniture in style.

ao3 link | spotify playlist

mel medarda masterlist // sevika masterlist

“That’s the last of ‘em!” Sevika shouts as she drops a medium sized box labeled Mel’s books onto the floor outside their walk in closet. She dusts her hands off as she glances around the room, taking in the sight. Moving boxes cover the majority of the space, scattered throughout the room in stacks. Her and Mel had decided it was time to take their relationship to the next level and move in together, so here they are in their new house, filled with new furniture. Whereas Sevika couldn’t care less about interior design, Mel adored it and dragged her girlfriend along to every place she could find to purchase the most ideal items for their joint home.

After the first few spots, the older woman found herself gaining a slight interest in fabrics and color schemes, much to Mel’s delight. She did end up inserting her opinion a handful of times, helping pick the occasional lamp or bookshelf, but the only item she insisted on was the floor to ceiling mirror situated in front of her. The moment she entered the umpteenth upscale furnishing store of that day, her attention was drawn to it, and she knew it was meant for them. Mel had also fallen in love with the piece, commenting how it was the perfect size to take joint pictures in, but Sevika had other things in mind.

Waltzing into the room while looking at her phone, Mel glances up to see the faraway look in her lover’s eye, taking advantage of the distraction to creep up behind her and wrap a slender arm around her waist.

“Say cheese.”

Raising her phone up, she positions them within the grid of the camera and snaps a photo, capturing a pair of beaming smiles. Cooing after zooming in on the result, she places the screen in Sevika’s line of sight to show her. “We look so cute!”

The woman chuckles at Mel’s adorable reaction, she never tired of seeing her so cheerful. Pulling her into a gentle embrace, Sevika nudges her nose against the younger’s, breaths now mingling between them. “You’re always cute, baby.”

Mel only giggles at the cheesy line, in too happy of a mood to ruin the moment.

“Okay, cornball.”

She shakes her head lightly before leaning in and closing the gap between them, humming as her lips slot right in between her girlfriend’s. They settle into a comfortable rhythm, simply enjoying the other’s presence and the start of this new chapter together.

Eventually, the kiss gets more and more heated, tongues and teeth entering the mix. The older woman whirls Mel around to face the mirror, nipping just under her ear as a firm hand slowly drags across her stomach and journeys toward her waistband.

Mel flinches and gasps at the sudden movement while goosebumps break out on her skin at the feeling. The grip on her stomach only adds more fuel to the heat and has her anticipation rising, a soft shiver wracking her body. Jade eyes flick open and catch sight of their joint reflection, Sevika’s chin resting on her shoulder, piercing her with a stare akin to a predator about to go in for the kill.

“You look delicious like this.” The setting sun casts a warm glow over the room, bathing the two of them in a light orange hue. Mel’s skin actually glistens under the light, features caressed with the gentle hold of golden hour. Sevika’s never seen anything so beautiful.

The shorter woman’s breath stutters at the compliment whispered into her ear and she can feel the static spreading over her body. The grip on her waist tightens and Sevika places a kiss right on her pulse, torturously so. Mel lets out a breathless huff, fingers sliding up and curling around broad shoulders as she pushes herself back into heated flesh, eyes darting to the mirror to watch their movements.

A large hand dips below Mel’s waistband and drags a teasing finger through her folds, eliciting a huff from her. Sevika’s hand re-emerges in front of them, a glistening coat of wetness silently revealing itself. She can only watch as her lover brings it to her own lips, sliding onto a waiting tongue. A wanton moan leaves Sevika’s chest as they lock eyes and she makes a show of cleaning herself off.

Mel feels a surge of arousal flood her body and she whips around to capture dark lips, hunger evident in her touch. The other woman smiles into the kiss, savoring the rhythm of the push and pull. Clothes start hitting the floor, flung around carelessly as the need to feel skin on skin overtakes any other thoughts.

A needy whine falls through Mel’s lips as she undresses, Sevika making it her priority to kiss every inch of exposed flesh on Mel’s chest once it’s within her reach. Her hands then go flying up to grip onto the older woman’s face and pull her in for a passionate kiss. Nails rake against Sevika’s shoulders and a shiver racks the latter’s body, her own hands finding Mel’s thighs and digging in, sure to leave a mark.

The taller woman leads them toward the bed, Mel plopping down once the edge hits the back of her knees. Their lips separate as Sevika stands up straight and takes in the sight. Mel’s chest is heaving as her dusky nipples stand proudly in the air, momentarily distracting her girlfriend.

Snapping herself out of it and remembering her plan, Sevika begins heading to the nightstand, kneeling in front of a small box boldly labeled and underlined Sevika’s. Her broad back obstructs Mel’s view, leaving her to wonder what could possibly have pulled her away.

Sevika eventually finds what she’s looking for and strolls back over with her hands behind her back. Mel tries to peek behind her and look through the mirror to see what she’s holding, but all she can make out is a black drawstring bag.

“Move back and get on your knees.”

Confused and wanting answers, Mel tries to ask what she’s doing before being abruptly cut off.

“Baby, what—“

The woman in question lunges forward and tosses the bag on the bed before picking Mel up like a ragdoll and dropping her where she had requested.

“Sev! What the hell are you doing?!”

Her girlfriend had never been this rough with her before; firm, yes, but this was a whole new level. Sevika then leans down and roughly grips Mel’s chin before lifting her head up in her direction.

“Do what I say the first time and there won’t be an issue. Okay?”

Pressing a wet kiss to her forehead, Sevika then reaches for the bag she cast aside and opens it up, much to Mel’s shock. A dildo she had never seen before stands proudly in the other woman’s grip, long and girthy and a gorgeous shade of purple. Sevika’s favorite color.

“What is that…” A dazed Mel asks aloud, not even caring that the answer was obvious.

Her lover breaks into a proud grin, showcasing that gap that Mel adores, and rotates the strap in her hand as if she was inspecting it.

“Mmm, we’ll call it a housewarming gift.”

The younger woman sits there stunned for a moment before scrambling into the position her girlfriend had commanded she get into. Sevika can’t help how her smile widens as Mel willingly adjusts her body exactly how she wanted, all for her to take.

The anticipation in her eyes is just delightful, and the older woman slowly approaches the bed, gently setting the bag down before running her hand up her girlfriend’s thigh, admiring the view.

“You’re excited for this one, huh?”

It’s a bit larger than anything they had used before, but Sevika figured a special occasion called for a special toy. Nodding slowly, Mel watches in anticipation as the woman in front of her attaches it to her trusty harness and slips it on, adjusting the straps to a comfortable position.

Looking up, Sevika chuckles at the dazed look on her partner’s face before reaching into the bag and grabbing a bottle of lube. She flips open the cap and moves to pour some on her hand before pausing, an idea popping into her mind.

Sevika lifts the container in Mel’s direction before tilting her head. “You wanna put it on for me?”

A soft noise of surprise mixed with arousal falls from the younger woman’s throat as she takes a beat to register what was asked of her. Brain finally catching up to the idea, she slowly nods her head.

“Please.”

The words come out more breathy than intended, and she shuffles forward on her knees before sitting back on her heels. Her eyes darken as they gaze up at olive skin, taking in the sight of taut muscle before moving back down to the toy.

Pouring a generous amount into her palm, Mel reaches out and tentatively wraps her hand around the dildo, stroking it slowly as she familiarizes herself with the material. A low groan above her catches her attention, and her gaze rises to see Sevika locked into the motion, bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

A soft squelching noise is all that’s heard, the two women enthralled with the other and absorbing everything about the moment between them. When Mel leans down and gives the tip of it a soft kitten lick, Sevika grips the back of her hair to pull her away, shaking her head as her chest heaves.

“I had, hah, I had something else in mind.”

She pulls Mel’s hand away before walking around to the side of the bed and climbing on, settling behind the other woman before placing her forehead between her shoulder blades and running a warm hand down her back.

“I wanna fuck you while you watch.”

The words bring a hot flush to Mel’s face, her mouth opening with a short gasp. Her whole body tenses up, only to relax in the most satisfying of ways once a calloused hand soothes up and down her spine. She can feel her eyes closing as Sevika works her magic upon her skin, body going lax beneath her touch.

“That’s—Uh huh...”

Her response is soft and breathless, but it gets the point across. Mel can’t find the strength to turn around and face her girlfriend, focusing on trying to regulate her breathing. Sevika leans back and grips the strap between her legs, lifting it to tease her lover’s folds.

A whine claws its way out of the younger woman’s throat, her head dropping forward in anticipation of the action. Teeth graze across her lower lip, eyes trained on a fixed point in the mirror to avoid letting them close.

“Ah, please.”

Her voice is gentle, words falling from a mouth half open. She needs her, needs her to touch and fill and ruin her in the best way possible. Her entire body is on edge as she feels heat rising from her core and radiating outward.

“Lean forward for me.” Sevika commands with a firm hand on Mel’s back, pushing her until she’s on all fours. Her spine arches in a perfect curve as she braces her forearms on the mattress, legs spread open, and head hanging down just enough to still see the mirror in her peripheral. Pussy now exposed, Sevika can see just how wet the other woman is now and lets out an actual growl.

Mel feels the grip now at her hip, blunt nails digging in once the older woman rubs the toy between her asscheeks, spreading the lube there. Her breath hitches, chest expanding outwards as she tries to regulate her breathing and contain the noises threatening to break free. She’s so close to what she needs, so close to being completely filled.

Positioning the tip at a waiting entrance, Sevika begins pushing in slowly to let Mel adjust, feeling the way she grips the dildo. A loud moan claws out of the younger woman’s throat, reverberating throughout the room. “Oh, god.”

Once she’s completely inside, Sevika leans forward and presses her chest against her girlfriend’s toned back before pressing her lips against the shell of her ear.

“Eyes up here.”

She reaches a hand up to Mel’s chin and lifts her head to make eye contact in the mirror before slowly licking the shell of the younger woman’s ear.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you in this mirror since the second I saw it.”

Eyes dilating and thighs tensing up, Mel feels her heart skip a beat as the words sink in and settle in her core. A full-body shiver travels through her body, a high whine falling from her lips. Her gaze follows Sevika’s hand as if trained to do so, watching it travel from her face to her throat.

“That’s why you wanted it so badly?”

She’s panting now, hands balling up into fists as her body struggles to keep still and remain focused. A single snap of Sevika’s hips has her rocking forward into the grip on her neck, choking out a gasp before the other woman replies. “Yes.”

The firm pressure at her neck feels amazing, a soft, breathless gasp escaping her when her head is pushed up higher. With Sevika’s body heat radiating against her back, her thoughts start to get a bit fuzzy, pleasure shooting down her spine.

“F—ah...fuck.”

Her girlfriend sits back and separates their damp bodies, aside from the toy connecting them, before pushing her hips upwards, rubbing the dildo against Mel’s walls. “Been imagining having you in this exact position, underneath me, just watching me ruin you.”

Sevika starts pulling out before firmly plunging back in and setting a brisk pace, the lube and Mel’s slick making it a pleasurable experience for the woman underneath her. She only responds in the form of moans, spine arching further as she pushes back against Sevika’s hips with each powerful thrust she receives. She keeps her gaze locked in place, the sight of their joint reflection only driving her more wild.

“Please...don’t stop.”

Mel can hardly think straight, breath stuttering in her chest as her eyes burn with an intense need. The coil in her stomach begins to tighten, and the sensation causes her head to drop forward, damp forehead hitting the mattress as moan after moan rings out.

Suddenly, she’s yanked back by her hair before a rough hand slaps her ass and she’s reprimanded by a gruff voice.

“Keep your eyes on me or I’m gonna stop.”

Despite how turned on she is, pain still shoots through her scalp as her hair is pulled and her back arches up. The sting quickly fades to an almost pleasant burn, and a shiver racks her body in the best of ways. Mel forces her gaze back up and locks eyes with Sevika, taking in the sight of her dark eyes, her tense jaw, and her heaving chest.

“I-I’m sorry, don’t Sev, please.”

The older woman then picks up the pace and slams into Mel, hitting the perfect spot inside of her. She immediately disobeys the order Sevika just gave her, face planting into the covers and letting out a muffled cry. An aggravated huff leaves the woman behind her and the beginning of a protest leaves her lips before she’s pulled back by her throat and pulled into a strong chest, pert nipples poking into her skin.

“What the fuck did I say?”

Gasping, she tries to speak before a firm hand lightly flexes around her neck, fingers digging into sensitive flesh.

“P—Please, I’ll be good.”

She sounds desperate, head tilted back and eyes half-lidded, trying and failing to focus on Sevika over her shoulder.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, I think it’s too late for that.”

Sevika begins thrusting up into Mel’s pussy, not giving the other woman a chance to catch her breath before setting a rapid pace and causing her to yell out a moan. The slapping of wet skin rings out in Mel’s ears, her girlfriend’s grunts arousing her more and more. Suddenly, she feels a metal hand press down onto her stomach and a shock of electricity shoots straight to her clit, feeling the second heartbeat there more intensely.

“Ahh, fuck!”

Laughing like a madman, Sevika leans down and nips at Mel’s neck, her intense pace bringing the other woman closer to the edge.

“Look. You can see the outline right here.”

She traces a finger around an area of Mel’s stomach, and when her vision focuses, she sees a bulge in the reflection staring back at her. Whining at the realization, she leans her head back in the crook of Sevika’s neck, gasping into her skin. Reaching behind her blindly, the taller woman feels for her phone and after finding it, she slides over to the camera and raises it to the scene in the mirror.

“I think we should capture the moment, don’t you?”

Mel’s eyes flutter open at the question, confusion lacing her features before she glances forward and sees the device. Heat shooting to her lower stomach, she enthusiastically nods without needing to think about it.

The idea of being able to watch their sessions back later was something Mel had thought about before, but never had the nerve to bring up. It’s like the other woman can read her mind, chuckling to herself and telling her, “I figured.”

Hearing the camera beginning to record, Mel feels a burst of energy course through her, fucking back into the other woman as best she can and groaning carelessly. Sevika lets out an amused sound, her fingers digging just a little bit deeper into the skin of Mel’s stomach, loving the jolt that shoots through their bodies upon impact. The way the younger woman is whimpering and moaning, the way her body is moving, it all just makes Sevika’s mouth water, and she takes it upon herself to mark any exposed flesh she can get her hands on.

“You close, baby? You got an audience now,” she murmurs, the hand holding her phone remaining surprisingly steady.

It takes a moment, but Mel manages to nod her head in affirmation, her breathing getting more and more uneven as the pleasure building inside her keeps increasing. Her body feels like it’s being lit ablaze, a fire burning from deep in her chest and threatening to devour her whole. She presses her head back into Sevika’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut and fingers grasping at thick thighs as she chases her release.

“Please, touch me.”

Sevika smirks at the request, knowing just what she wants to do, but still curious as to how far she can push Mel. Instead of doing as asked, Sevika pulls her back upright so that she’s once again staring at their reflection. Her breath hitches at the sight; a slender figure contrasting with a broad one, taut muscles flexing, both of them on full display. A hand leaves Mel’s stomach and wraps around her jaw, forcing their eyes to meet once more.

“You think you deserve it?”

Mel replies with an enthusiastic yes and leans her head back onto a strong shoulder, looking up with wide, glossy eyes. A shudder runs down Sevika’s spine and she decides to give her what she wants, but only after a craving of her own.

“Then open wide.”

Doing as she’s told, Mel parts her full lips and waits in suspense for what her lover has planned. Sevika’s mouth begins moving around, gathering a generous amount of saliva on her tongue before opening up and letting it trickle into a waiting mouth. A choked gasp leaves the younger woman as warm drool hits her taste buds, closing her mouth and swallowing without needing to be told.

Sevika lets out a low moan as she watches Mel take initiative, feeling her clit throb before her hand is tilting Mel’s head to the side so they’re locked in eye contact through the mirror. She looks euphoric, pupils dilated almost to the point of her irises disappearing, and Sevika can’t help but be completely entranced. The pressure on her clit combined with this is making her head spin.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to watch this back later.”

Her grip on Mel’s hip tightens as she speaks, nails digging in and sure to leave behind crescent shaped marks. She slips her hand between soft thighs, toying with her clit and applying the perfect amount of pressure.

Frantic thrusts pick back up from the languid pace they had dropped to, feeling the way Mel was sucking in the dildo. Feeling her lover clench tighter and tighter, Sevika dips her head down and begins leaving love bites on the supple skin of Mel’s throat. After sinking into a particularly sensitive spot, she feels Mel tense up and the other woman cries out, cumming with a shudder.

Sevika doesn’t cease her movements, adding a second finger to the rotations around Mel’s clit, the pleasure building and rising until it takes over her body.

“That’s too much, I’m—!”

Before she can reach out to cease her girlfriend’s movements, Mel feels a second, stronger wave hit her like a punch to the gut, knocking all of the breath from her. Liquid begins spraying out from between their bodies, coating the sheets and their lower bodies as Mel claws at Sevika’s thighs.

The other woman’s eyes widen upon feeling the fluid covering her skin, a low moan escaping her as her own pace stutters. She looks up to watch the scene through the mirror, a sheen of sweat covering them both, and she knows there’s no way she’s going to last much longer.

Her hand leaves Mel’s clit to go grasping roughly for a perky breast, her phone almost dropping onto the bed before she manages to catch it. She tries her best to adjust the angle so it’s capturing everything, but once the band in her stomach snaps, her face falls to Mel’s neck.

“F-Fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

Her body presses against the other woman’s as she finally reaches her climax, a harsh gasp leaving her lips. Her legs give out and she nearly collapses onto Mel, arms barely able to hold them both up. The two remain motionless for a few moments, chests heaving and trying to get their breath back. Sevika eventually turns her head to meet Mel’s gaze in the mirror.

“Holy shit.”

Mel can only nod in agreement, words completely escaping her at this point. The room is silent now, save for their panting, and when her vision finally clears, she can still see the remnants of her climax across her stomach and thighs. She can also feel something else.

“Sweetheart, can you, um, pull out?”

Mel’s voice is quiet, her head still tilted back as she eyes her girlfriend with a tired expression. This causes a short gasp to escape Sevika’s chest, gently moving back and removing the dildo from her girlfriend.

“Better?”

The other woman nods with an exhausted smile, feeling sore but unexpectedly empty. Maybe Sevika had actually rearranged her insides.

The taller woman can sense the change in Mel’s expression and gently lowers them both down on their sides; Sevika spooning her with her chin resting atop her head.

“You okay? I know that was a lot.”

She presses a gentle kiss to the crown of it, running a hand down the younger woman’s side before coming to rest her hand on her hip.

Mel is nearly drifting off already, humming softly at Sevika’s question. “I’m good, just…sensitive right now.”

A soft laugh leaves the older woman as she pulls her closer into her chest, fingers still tracing up and down her ribs. “You did so well though, it was amazing.”

Mel’s cheeks heat up and she presses her face against her pillow, already getting flashbacks. Sevika notices and gently tilts her chin up, making their eyes meet once more.

Her girlfriend’s gaze is tender as it always is in the aftermath of such acts, and Mel lets herself melt into the moment, simply enjoying the feeling of strong arms around her. Sevika’s hand begins moving again, slowly tracing down the curve of her hip and settling on her thigh, gently massaging the flesh there.

“You looked so gorgeous in the mirror, you know that? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

A satisfied smile reaches Mel’s lips as she looks up at the other woman. “Was it as perfect as you imagined?”

Laughing aloud, Sevika’s eyes twinkle as she tells her, “Even better.”

A moment later, Mel sits up and reaches for the phone before opening it and typing something in.

“You sending the video to yourself or what?” The older woman questions with a giggle.

“Yes, but also…” She flips the screen towards Sevika. “I’m hungry, let’s order some food.”

Nodding with a smile, Sevika grabs the outstretched device and places her order before dropping it to the bed and sighing, a content feeling settling over her. Feeling a tug between her thighs, she looks down in surprise as she sees Mel climbing over her and settling on her muscular thighs.

“While we wait…” She leans over and presses a wet kiss to Sevika’s lips. “Round two?”

Wide eyes take over her lover’s face as she sits there frozen, realizing Mel still hasn’t had her fill.

A breathless chuckle falls from Sevika’s lips, a sense of disbelief filling her. “Damn, the mirror turned you on that much?”

Soft lips begin trailing down her neck, eyes rolling back as Mel bites and licks at the skin there.

“Can you blame me?” the other woman muses, the sound sending a new wave of heat through Sevika’s body.

Sitting up and grabbing two firm thighs, she reaches forward and licks into her lover’s mouth, tangling their tongues together and humming into the kiss.

“Whoever cums first pays?”

A fierce look grows in Mel’s eye at the wager, never one to turn down a competition.

“Deal.”

[wardingshout]

there is nothing I wouldn't do for them.........

[duu-kiwi]

I bet aziraphale wrote about the day the universe was made, about the angel whose voice recited the words that created the stars, about how bright they shone, and still shine, in those angel eyes✨🪐

Here you have some detailss and a cropped version with just!! them!!!

edit: prints link !

[royalarchivist]

Pac: Oh– [Stammers] Why– I have an Ender Flu? I'm shaking! Oh my god.

Tubbo: No, Pac! You've been impregnated! 😫

Pac: IMPREGNATED?!?! Wait, what? 😨

Fit: Oh god. [Laughs] That's a new one.

Tubbo: You're pregnant!

Pac: How?!

Tubbo: I can't believe preggers Pac is on the QSMP!

Pac: Oh my god, I'm so happy! [Laughs]

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

—

Tubbo: This is not what I want! I don't want this!!!

Fit: [Chuckles]

Pac: Oh– [Stammers] Why– I have an Ender Flu? I'm shaking! Oh my god.

Tubbo: No, Pac! You've been impregnated!

Pac: IMPREGNATED?!?! Wait, what?

Fit: Oh god. [Laughs]

Tubbo: You're pregnant!

Pac: How?!

Fit: That's a new one.

Tubbo: Uh oh, I'm about to– I'm about to not be alive much longer.

Pac: How– ahhh!!!! Wait, this is good? [Tubbo gets killed by a mob] Oh my god, Tubbo!

Tubbo: Guys? Preggers Pac, and Fit, help!

Pac: [Reading chat] "Congratulations"? Thanks guys, I didn't know, man! As always.

Fit: [Revives Tubbo] Alright, run! Ok, you're good.

Tubbo: We got his ass!

Pac: Wait, wait– What does it mean like, I'm pregnant? I'm gonna have babies?

Tubbo: It means you're gonna give birth to a beautiful– a beautiful plethora of children!

Pac: Oh my god, not– [unintelligible]

Tubbo: [Still ranting] Merciful, wonderful babies! Babies! Innocent babies will-

Fit: [Laughs] Yeah, what he said.

Tubbo: –will splurt out of you!

Pac: Oh my god. I think I saw like, Foolish having birth the other day, so I–

Fit: [Fighting a mob] Not this thing again!

Pac: Oh my god.

Tubbo: I can't believe preggers Pac is on the QSMP!

Pac: Oh my god, I'm so happy! [Laughs]

Fit: [Laughs]

Tubbo: It's gonna be such a magical time for you!

Pac: Yeah, oh my god, I have been like, dreaming for–

Tubbo: Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. What do you– have you got any names? What are you gonna name it?

Pac: I'm probably gonna name it "Elton" and "John" if I have like, two.

Tubbo: Ohhh! What a beautiful name!