#but oh it is there. lurking. waiting to strike

[aikoiya]

... I really need to get back to this show...

Macaque spent the whole season Big-Damn-Hero-ing and was NOT happy about it xD

[2hoothoots]

Revisiting P2 since the docu epilogue dropped and your AMV (<3) popped up as a sign for me to ask something that hopefully you haven't already spoken about years ago: What did you think of the in-game psych explanation for Maligula, that she's the primitive savage part of the mind? P2 is a weird mix of sketchy Freud/Jung concepts that Tim likes meshed with modern psych, and Maligula's deal seems like something they probably wrote a lot of different versions of but never quite solved elegantly

yeah, i think you totally hit the nail on the head - it's always felt like one of the parts of the story that they couldn't quite give enough polish to before they had to finalize it and move on with development. like - i went to go get my artbook to see if it had any insight into the writing process, and did you know that Nona and Maligula being the same person was apparently added way later in development? that's wild! i didn't know that until literally right now! i may or may not have skipped straight to my favourite characters when my artbook arrived and then put it on my shelf without reading the whole thing

ANYWAY, retrospectively i think it being a twist that was added later actually makes a lot of sense in the context of everything you mentioned. the Maligula problem, to me, is the fact that they're trying to juggle a bunch of different things that she has to be in the story. there's Maligula, the ruthless big bad, and Nona, the beloved grandma, and if you suddenly have to also make them both the same person... well, it ends up being kind of a thorny writing problem to make that work, haha.

here's some art i made so this isn't just a wall of text, rest of the answer under the cut

i think one thing they could have done when they needed to rehabilitate a mass-murderer into a lovable old lady was pull back on either end of the spectrum. make your villain softer and more sympathetic, or give grandma a mean streak like she's one bad day away from a tragedy at the crochet club. and to give the story credit, i'm really glad they didn't. Nona is relentlessly sweet and endearing - and that's great! she needs to be in order to make the audience care about her, otherwise the emotional beats are never going to land. likewise, Maligula is a great villain, she's vicious and ruthless and at the culmination of her arc we see she simply does not give a shit about murdering hundreds of people. i love that for her, honestly, you go girl

but then, like - how do you connect the dots? how do you frame grandma having a violently murderous streak in a way that doesn't make the ending of "but she's over it now" feel kinda weird and hollow? and how do you do that while also being sympathetic to the game's themes around mental health? Maligula's informed by the traumatic things that happened to Lucrecia during the war, but she can't just be a manifestation of trauma, because the moral of the story being that trauma makes you a mass-murderer (until you beat up your trauma and shove it in a giant pit) would feel... really tonally dissonant!

so i think you're totally right that the sprinkling of pop-psych concepts we get ends up feeling a little bit like an awkward band-aid. Maligula's story is about how the horrors of war can shape you into a terrible person, who does terrible things - ...but there's also, like, special circumstances, so it doesn't feel weird that she goes back to being Raz's sweet grandma afterwards. special psychic circumstances! she's not just any war criminal, she's the fight or flight response gone out of control!

which - i dunno, i think that line in particular always stood out to me, because that's not really what the fight or flight (or freeze or fawn) response is, right? it's a temporary boost of adrenaline to the system to rev you up for getting out of a dangerous situation. an overactive fight or flight response is called chronic stress and anxiety. i know the games are pop-psych and not actual science, but it always stood out to me as a little awkward.

if it were me in the writer's seat - with the benefit of all the time in the world to workshop it, and no looming deadlines, and the hindsight of having a full completed game in front of me to think about - i might have tried to frame it around connection. i think you could swing the lens to instead focus on how violence, stress, trauma etc., make it harder to understand and empathise with the people around you. the tragedy of Lucrecia's story is that she came home to try and help her countrymen, the people she cared so dearly about. but the more time passed, the less she cared, the less she was able to see them as people. after Marona's death, the Maligula that remains is one who's unable to even care about killing her own sister. the alternative is too raw, too painful - instead, she sheds her last vestiges of remorse, and throws herself into the easy relief of violence. (we see this again, when Nona "awakens" as Maligula - when confronted with the baggage of her past, she chooses to wash it all away with force, unable and unwilling to care about the people she used to call friends.)

and i think shifting the focus like that ties it in thematically, too. a big theme (of both games, but especially the sequel) is how important connection is, how being able to understand and reach out to and rely on other people is a lifeline during hard times. PN2 touches on how there aren't really "good people" and "bad people" - everyone has the capacity to do wonderful or terrible things, and i think Raz's line to Maligula about how "everybody's got something like you" works. Lucrecia was never a monster, no matter how everyone tried to pretend she was. she was just a person, the same as everyone else - and just like everyone else, she could be pushed to extremes under the right circumstances. it just feels kind of odd when the implicit context is "everybody's got a mass-murderer hidden in the primal recesses of their brain", hahaha.

but like, again, that's the privilege of hindsight, right? i've definitely also been on the other side of the creative process, stuck with something i suddenly need to make work in a story and having to come up with a solution that feels like a band-aid. sometimes you just gotta call it good enough, and move on. and i think the game is overall much stronger for having Nona and Maligula be the same person - it plays into the wider themes, it sets up some great emotional beats, and i think it's overall well-executed, even if there are one or two hiccups in the writing.

anyway, great ask! thank you for the invitation to ramble, this is something that stuck out to me on my first playthrough of the game and it was fun to sit down and get my thoughts in order

[adiosterror]

EB: hey. i really need to get better at this type of thing but dave keeps saying i just need to like... go for it.

EB: well technically he said i need to stop rambling about you to him because i was being too sappy but i think he was just jealous that i love you so much :)

EB: but anyway...

EB: number one: i love you. so much. please remember that. like remember that forever and ever and ever. try not to forget okay?

EB: number two: dave says hi. so do rose and jade :) rose said she's happy i have you and jade keeps begging to go on a double date with us. not sure who'd she bring.

EB: and number three: i have a great joke for you. this one is gonna go down in the halls of fantastic awesome jokes forever i swear.

EB: okay you ready?

EB: here goes.

EB: i know this sounds cheesy, but i think you're the grate-est.

EB: oh wait. dave wants to type something to you real quick!!!!!!!!!! he says it's important :)

TG: hey man, your girlfriend told me to tell you she says hi and she has a crush on you or something idk man sounds gay

TG: but whatever floats your boat i guess

TG: ps sending a mad amount of good vibes your way

TG: oh and also so she keeps pestering me about you being all sappy and shit please tell her to leave the compliments at the door i am not being paid enough to hear her write shitty sonnets about you but like verbal style okay bye im sending this to you before she starts rambling again good luck man

WWWWHHHHAAAAAATTTTTTT!!!!! WHAT?!! WHAAAAT!!!

WHO DID THIS??? WHICH ONE OF YOU DID THIS ILL FIND YOU!!!

Oh my god i've probably just read this like sixteen times now i,, ghfhhh,,, im crying dude,,

I love you too honey,, I love you so much and you're my whole world and my stars and everything else in it and even more than that,,,,, When I think about you everything is okay and I could scream from the rooftops about how much I love you and I would do it in a heartbeat because I'm so proud to be yours,,

Sorry okay locking in, I got emotional

That is the smartest joke I've ever seen you're so funny june, the joke hall of fame was MADE for that joke

And thank you dave strider from homestuck, I don't think she could ever talk about me more than I talk about her hehe,,, but the thought is really nice so I'm gonna keep it,,

Thank you so so so so so much anon for the little letter, idk how you tracked me down but you just made my entire week,, i'm gonna keep a lil bookmark for this on my phone so I can read it over and over again ehehe,,,

[your-allie-bye]

saw that there was gonna be a cool vampire masquerade ball in los angeles next year and then discovered within ~5 minutes of googling that its run by a scammy psycho sex cult so I guess im not gonna do that now :/

[riverssongs13]

4 weeks in strange space, 2 MRIs, 1 and a half week of meds, a hospitalisation, an IntelliBear, countless migraines, and two and a half finished books later, I am finally home. My own dark, no sunlight, no foot traffic sounds, no noisy neighbours, no blaring background TV noise, cosy, safe, PERSONAL space. With my own noisy brain to deal with, no small talks, no 8-yr old tantrum, no teenage angst, no marital problems to sift through and give advice for. Just me, my brain, and I. In front of my workstation to read, to play, to write, to be ME. My precious!

I've had enough of human beings for the last month and now I wish to never deal with humans again. Bye social media. I will see you when I feel the need to stress out again. For now, Harrow my loves here I come. Nyahahaha. Ciao!

[misotsukiiyeooo]

No Kisses?

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol xF! Reader

A/N: Honestly, I just need Seuncheol...

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 4.3k

Synopsis: Seungcheol attempts to deny your kisses, but not for too long.

You were on your period, and feeling emotional, which led to some unnecessary bickering with Seungcheol. He didn't appreciate the attitude you were giving him, and as the days passed, you brushed the entire incident aside as if it had never occurred.

Your constant mood swings during that week pushed Seungcheol to his limit, prompting him to declare a "kissing strike." You simply assumed he was being dramatic. However, now that your period has ended, you’re looking for Seungcheol to cuddle with you.

You find him sitting on the couch in the living room. Before you can step closer, he lifts a finger, stopping you in your tracks. "Don't come here, Y/n. I told you, no kisses and cuddles for a whole week!" His tone is firm, yet there’s a hint of playful frustration lurking beneath.

You take a step closer to him, testing the waters to see if he’s genuinely serious about this rule. "Oh, come on… a week is too long!" you pout at him.

Seungcheol crosses his arms tightly over his chest and turns his head away from you, still upset. "A week is not enough for the way you acted last week."

Realizing that he is indeed serious, you plop down next to him on the couch. He scoots away from you just a bit, arms still crossed. "Stop sitting next to me; I'm still upset."

"My baby, Cheollie, I'm sorry, okay?" you say, softening your tone and patiently waiting for a reaction. He tries to hide his smile after hearing his nickname.

"I get that you're sorry," he replies, still trying to maintain his serious demeanor, "but I still have to teach you a lesson."

Feeling bold, you respond, "You can’t stay mad at me for too long… you love me too much for that." You give him a playful, teasing smile, knowing deep down that he can’t resist for long.

He rolls his eyes dramatically but finally turns to look at you. "That's not the point. I'm still going to be mad at you for a week," he insists, though you can see the corners of his mouth twitching up.

You gently cup his cheeks in your hands, maintaining eye contact as you say, "I am sorry, you know." Your sincerity hangs in the air between you.

He lets out a heavy sigh, still avoiding your gaze. "I know, but I still need some time to forgive you," he admits, his tone softening just a fraction.

With a playful grin, you propose, "Fine, how about we make it a day? Not a whole week, hmm?" You keep your hands on his face. He pretends to think for a moment before sighing in defeat once more.

"A day… but only because you look so cute right now," he concedes, fighting to keep the smile off his face.

Seizing the moment, you lean in and peck his lips, completely forgetting the "rules" he just laid out. "A day it is!" you declare triumphantly.

But as soon as you back away, he sulks cutely, shaking his head. "I said no kisses for a day…"

You pause, realization dawning on you. "Oh right, oops," you reply, grinning widely.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" Seungcheol says, arching an eyebrow at you, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"Doing what?" You grin, pretending to be oblivious to your actions.

He scoffs, "Acting all cute so I won't stay mad at you…"

Your eyes widen in mock shock. "Me, acting cute?" The corners of your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. He rolls his eyes dramatically before reaching for your waist and effortlessly pulling you onto his lap. "Yes, you; and you know it," he replies.

You tease him, "I thought you said no cuddles?"

In response, Seungcheol wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. He burrows his face into the crook of your neck. "I changed my mind."

"That fast?" You giggle, earning a nod against your neck. His grip on you tightens. "I can't resist you when you're being cute like this," he murmurs.

You wrap your arms around his neck. "I knew you couldn't," you reply, teasing evident in your voice.

He pouts, pulling away slightly to face you. "Yeah, yeah. But next time you’re on your…" He trails off. "You know, can you try your absolute best not to start arguments with me?"

You smile at his cuteness. "Yes, of course. I’ll try my absolute best!" You echo his words with a small laugh.

"Good…" he says, and with that, he kisses your lips before leaning back in, nuzzling his face into your neck once more, enveloping you in warmth and comfort as he holds you close.

Taglist!!

@jjunie-0 @minminghao @black-swan-blog27 @cherrylvrr @honglynights @allieyaaa @bath1lda @hanniehae-yoon

[cece693]

Not Interested (Jasper Whitlock x M! Reader)

Summary: You never understood the hype over the Cullen family. Sure, they were beautiful, but didn’t anyone at school have enough common sense to notice something was off? Too bad a certain empath is smitten with you and merely finds your open disdain entertaining.

tags: perceptive reader, Jasper is smitten, isn't character canon nor resembles his original description, human reader, reader is a hothead and unfiltered, creative liberties with Jasper

You never understood the hype over the Cullen family. Sure, they were beautiful, but didn’t anyone at school have enough common sense to notice something was off? They looked like marble statues—flawlessly sculpted but lifeless, almost artificial. And then there were their mannerisms, too controlled to be teenagers. It was all a bit too uncanny for your liking.

Jasper Hale was no exception. Out of all of them, he seemed like the biggest walking red flag. He wasn’t an asshole, exactly, but his whole demeanor screamed danger. Every time you glanced his way, he was as stiff as a board, eyes unblinking and hands clenched into fists beneath the table, like he was holding himself back from doing something. There was a reason people said he was the second most unapproachable Cullen, with Rosalie taking the number one spot. Yet, despite his apparent hatred for people, he seemed determined to catch your attention.

He'd linger by your locker, his eyes burning a hole in your back. When you snapped at him to get lost, he didn’t flinch. He smiled. HE FUCKING SMILED LIKE YOU WERE A KITTEN THROWING A TANTRUM. In class, he'd try to strike up a conversation, blatantly ignoring your clipped and cold responses with a patience only a saint could have. Not only did you notice this, but the whole school did, too. Jasper’s odd behavior had quickly become a hot topic.

Jessica, damn her soul, was at the head of the rumor mill, spinning far-fetched stories about you and Jasper being secret lovers. If punching someone—much less a girl—wouldn’t get you expelled or possibly arrested, Jessica would have been target number one. You tried to keep your anger in check, especially when the whole school (students and staff alike) kept staring at you and Jasper like you were part of some soap opera. But one rumor, in particular, pushed you over the edge.

“I’m not a sugar baby!” you hissed at Jessica when she tried to strike up a conversation about the nonexistent gifts Jasper was supposedly giving you. “What bullshit gave you that idea?”

“He gave you a pencil—”

“Oh, fuck off and shove that pencil—” You couldn’t finish that thought as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and the beginning of fourth period. Jessica just waved goodbye and scurried off, knowing your temper wouldn’t be stopped by a bell. Huffing, you made your way to history class, where, lo and behold, Jasper was already seated, a grin on his face.

As the class dragged on, you couldn’t keep ignoring Jasper or the hushed whispers of the other students. His grin never faltered, and neither did the feeling of his gaze burning into you.

Screw it.

Without waiting for the teacher to finish his lecture on some historical battle you couldn’t care less about, you stood up abruptly.

“Out,” you muttered, grabbing Jasper by the arm with a grip that brooked no argument. Jasper, taken aback, allowed you to drag him to his feet. A low murmur rippled through the class, but you didn’t care. You were done playing around.

You hauled him out of the classroom, ignoring the teacher’s confused calls after you, and pulled him down the hallway to the nearest janitor's closet. You shoved the door open, pushed him inside, and slammed it shut behind you. The tiny space was dimly lit and filled with the scent of cleaning supplies, but you didn’t let the cramped quarters intimidate you. Instead, you crowded Jasper back against a shelf, glaring up at him.

“Alright, Hale,” you snapped, eyes blazing. “I’m sick of the staring, the lurking, and the creepy smiles. What's your deal? Are you trying to get under my skin, or are you just that bored?”

For a moment, Jasper didn’t respond. Then, slowly, that infuriatingly calm smile spread across his lips. “You know,” he drawled, his voice like honey dripping off a knife, “for someone who claims not to care, you seem awfully worked up about it.”

“Cut the crap,” you growled, slamming your palm against the shelf beside his head. “You’ve been following me around like some kind of deranged puppy, and I want to know why. And don’t you dare feed me some bullshit line about coincidence.”

Jasper’s smile faded, and for a moment, his eyes flickered with something darker, something almost… amused. “Maybe some of the rumors are true,” he admitted, his voice low but steady. “Maybe I do want to get to know you better.”

The words hung in the air, surprising you. You’d expected deflection, but this was something else. You narrowed your eyes. “Get to know me?” you echoed. “And what exactly does that mean?”

“It means,” Jasper continued, his gaze meeting yours head-on, “that you’re different from the others. You don’t fawn over us like we’re gods, and you’re not afraid to speak your mind. It’s… refreshing.”

You snorted. “So, what? You think acting like a creep is the way to get my attention? Newsflash, Hale: it’s not working.”

His lips twitched, almost like he was holding back a laugh. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “It got you to drag me in here, didn’t it?”

That did it. You reached out, grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled him closer, your faces mere inches apart. “Listen to me,” you said, your voice a low, dangerous whisper. “If you want to know me, try acting like a normal person instead of some stalker freak. Got it?”

Jasper didn't reply immediately, just stared at you before his gaze briefly flicked to your lips. “Got it,” he murmured, a reverent expression crossing his face that confused the hell out of you. You let go of him, expecting him to step back, but he didn’t. He stayed right where he was, not seeming at all bothered by the confined space or your proximity. “Just so we’re clear,” he added softly, “I’m not giving up. I’m still going to try to get to know you, whether you like it or not.”

Feeling a mix of frustration and something you didn’t want to name, you turned around and opened the door. “Fine, but try anything like this again, and I won’t be so nice.”

Jasper chuckled, that damn smile creeping back onto his face. “Deal, but somehow, I think you like a little chaos.”

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s get back to class, Hale.” you grumbled, stepping out into the hallway. But as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze on your back—a challenge silently hanging in the air between you.

[chlmtsdoll]

SHOPPING WITH ART

౨ৎ Summary: it’s in the title ! Ballerina!reader x Art on a shopping date 🤍

౨ৎ Word count: 2k

౨ৎ Warnings: sugar baby! reader, mentions & talk of sex (duh !), semi public sexual acts, age gap (reader early 20’s) dilf age Art, fluff, needy reader, horny Art, mentions of Tashi in between, mutual pinning, petite!reader (sorry tall ppl), reader and Art are all over each other constantly

A/N: don’t know if I should classify this as a blurb or a fic but I’m gonna go with blurb since it’s short and sweet !!

“Dogs ?”

You had scrunched up your nose and shook your head terribly at Arts attempts to guess your favorite animal. He tilted his head as he looked down at you with a grin.

“Cats ?” He probed. You nodded pleased, with a giggle.

“Do I strike you as a dog person at all ?”

“No.” Art had laughed out and it sounded of wealth and pure adoration of you.

You two had been walking down Rodeo Drive in the mist of perfect weather on a bright day, Art had offered to take you shopping while Tashi took care of tennis business for the two of you. She requested some space and quietness for an hour or two — so of course you’d never pass up your expectation of basically trying on dresses for Art Donaldson as a living.

It still hadn’t hit you on the full one-eighty your life has taken from going from a lost ballerina to Art and Tashi’s young, beautiful, tennis protégé.

Or shared girlfriend. Whatever you had been.

You loved it. Especially days like this, you’d spend as much time as you could with Art when he wasn’t touring because he made you feel like it had only been the two of you on earth when you were together. You never stopped laughing, blushing, kissing… and a spawn of other things.

But when he’d been actually playing tennis, or doing things for his career like press or photoshoots. You missed him dearly. Even when he’d spend time with his daughter Lily.

It made your mood dim, and you’d find yourself dissociating from conversations or tennis to think about him or ponder when he’d be back to steal you away again. Tashi always caught you in the drift of it, but you’d snap right back to reality when you’d hear her say. “Okay. Art’s gonna take you out.” Your mood and demeanor would shift entirely.

“I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”

“Isn’t that movie controversial ?” Art questioned.

“Aren’t you much older than me ?” You replied as you glanced up at him, giving him every glitter of your wide Bambi eyes. He chucked.

“Oh. So should I walk on the other side of the sidewalk.. if that’s too much for you ?” He looked down at you as he moved from where you walked to the other side of the not so spacious side walk to prove his sarcasm.

“No!” You pleaded with a girlish laugh as you followed him anyways, bumping your shoulder into his arm on purpose not to be separated for another second.

You’d want to hold his hand so badly when you two would be out together, but with his public image being Tashi Duncan’s star husband, it wasn’t exactly the best decision when it came to the press — so even with as much as he wanted to, Tashi always told him to lay low when it came to physical contact with you in the open. Especially somewhere as public as Beverly Hills.

You’d never known where paparazzi had been hiding, lurking and waiting. And it wouldn’t be so easy for them to try and idealize it as Art Donaldson and his exceptionally younger “friend” that he takes shopping and on dates.

Tashi couldn’t control when you had been at home and essentially couldn’t keep your hands off each other entirely. Always hugging, cuddling, fucking. It didn’t matter. You were on him or vise versa, but when you’d go out Tashi would specifically insist “don’t touch each other.” before you’d leave.

But hiding didn’t transpire to you so much when you just completely couldn’t help yourself when it came to the man that made your heart flutter, you’d fought the limitations anyways.

Walking side by side you brushed your pinky against Arts much bigger hand. You saw him look down and a soft grin took upon his lips at the sight of your manicured pink tips grabbing at his hand. He could never resist you. locking pinky’s with yours, your smile had turned bashful but pleased as you’d walk together. Just praying no paps had caught the moment and you’d have to go through Tashi’s wrath later on.

♡

It was dress after dress you’d pick off of the rack, skirts, tops, and more shoes than you’d ever seen at once in person. But you absolutely adored this. Trying not to make another painfully high pitched sound when you’d find another pair that made your eyes go wide in awe.

Art was right there behind you as he chuckled at all of your darling reactions, finding it utterly too cute. You were like a doll and he’d spoil you till you’d probably pass out from exhaustion the moment you both got home from all the perks of shopping till you dropped. Literally.

“I don’t know. I love the waistline, but a deep v neck ? I just don’t see it.” You stepped out of the dressing rooms to where Art had been lounging on a chair since he wasn’t allowed in the actual dressing room area.

Art couldn’t say he didn’t know a thing or two when it came to a sense in fashion. Tennis was a sport based around the most expensive and luxury brands displaying their most fashionable and articulately put together pieces on star athletes like himself. But mainly living with the total of four ladies including the maid, had done his knowledge of the craft wonders.

“I think you look amazing in it, baby.” He implied, crystal blues tracing your perfect body cinched into the tight dress.

It made your breast sit in such a way that Art had to adjust the way he sat in his seat. You looked at yourself in the mirror while your hand ran down your curves. Your heels made you stand taller and your legs showcased eloquently.

One of the workers brought you a glass of champagne and you thanked her kindly before taking a sip, then turning to Art with a suggestive unsure look on your face.

“But do I look amazing though ?” You asked puzzled, with mostly sarcasm and art had shook his head, he chuckled as you glided back into the dressing rooms.

He even brought you things to try on as he just couldn’t pull back from his own suggestions of what he thought you looked to die for in.

“Art,” You turned to him opening up the curtain of the small space as you’d been in the mist of changing, just in your bra and panties.

“Put this on.” He passed you a dress and you were taken back by his desperation and need to see you in his choice of clothing. You stood and took it from him, but you couldn’t deny the slight pass of dominance from him turned you on a bit. You smiled at the curtain when he closed it quickly to leave so he wouldn’t get caught.

When you came out in what he had gave you, Art unfolded his leg and sat straighter in his chair as he examined the sight. And was it a sight to see.

The dress was white, a sixties kind of cut as it made your waist look otherworldly. The corset top made your torso extend and it was short enough that if you moved a little too much it would have been quite a show.

“So, what do you think of your outfit choice on me, Mr. Donaldson ?” You asked with your hands on your hips and the look on his face as his eyes graced over you had you blushing terribly.

Art had to take in a breath with an embarrassing place being lost for words, he stood up to walk towards you. His hand touched the delicate straps.

“Turn around.” he instructed.

“Okay. Bossy.” You joked, meanwhile he bit his lip to hold back nearly letting out an audible noise as he took in the way it cupped your ass just right. You were perfection in his eyes, all dolled up just for him. He licked his lips,

“You’re gorgeous, angel. Do you like it ? Because I love it, and I think you need it in your wardrobe. Well, not need, but it would be a nice touch.” He went on and you laughed at his high regard, your face heating up quite quickly now.

“I think it’s really pretty.” Your hand ran across the top that was embroidered with jewels, your smile enchanting as Art watched you.“next one coming up.”

You had walked by to go change again, but as you did you felt a smack on your ass and you turned around quickly to see Art grinning to himself when you gasped.

The responsible side of you would of protested as you remembered Tashi’s words, but you were anything but responsible when it came to your favorite blonde. You shook your head as your sly smile matched his and you went back into your dressing room.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t that long before Art had snuck in again and opened up the curtain, this time inserting himself into the room with you.

“Art!” You could hardly stop him before he had moved your hair out of the way and started attacking your neck with kisses, sucking in your sent as hands ran over your body,

“Fuck, you look good.” He breathed out as he kissed you and you’d fallen weak to his trap. Hands running to grab his hair as he groped your tits through the dress and kissed you sloppily. He towered over your dainty figure as he treated your body like clay for him to mold, you let out a whine from the back of your throat as he ran his tongue over yours.

His hands were flighting to unzip your dress while hiking it up your hips at the same time.

“Careful, it’s not mine,” you breathed out as Art peppered kisses anywhere he could.

“Oh, it will be yours. I’m buying it as soon as I’m done with you.” his tone was low and full of arousal as he pushed your front against the wall of the dressing room.

As much as you wanted him to fuck you right there, feel every inch of his need to have you take his cock while he treated you to an entire wardrobe that any girl your age would die for, was enough to make you shed your panties right then. But you had slipped from under his grasp.

“We can’t, we’re in public.” You uttered and Art had backed away from you with a groan as he ran his hands down his face and you grinned at the state you had gotten him in, uncomfortably hard and dick nearly ready to come through his fly at just the sight of you.

“Fine,” he sighed out and got ahold of himself before leaving again, you tried not to give him a mischievous smirk as you adjusted yourself and the dress. “Don’t think I don’t know how much you want it, you little minx, be ready for later because we’re not done here.”

You batted your eyelashes and acted all innocent as he shut the curtain and then you giggled to yourself. You had all the shoes and dresses you wanted ready by the time you exited again, and now with lips shimmering with gloss, you made eye contact with Art as he paid for all your new attire with pleasure. Licking his own lips every time he scanned over you, he carried all of your bags and he walked out with you happily.

Completely forgetting about the paparazzi, Art took your hand in his with ease. leading you down the walkway and you had bitten your lip under a satisfied little smile.

A/N: ugh ! I need that !

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Scream For Me.

Serial Killer!Kate Bishop x fem!reader

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, knife play, Overstim, Possesive, dark behaviors, blood/blood play, violence, toxic relationship dynamics, mentions of murder and death, non-con

Authors notes: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! We made it through kinktober everyone! Now I'm going to take a break for a bit unless inspo strikes!

“Are you excited for Tony's yearly Halloween bash?” Wanda asks excitedly, sitting next to you in the common area at your college. 

You smile at your best friend, “Of course I'm excited Wands! I've got a great outfit this year. Maybe I'll finally win his costume contest.”

Wanda chuckles and leans against the table, “Are you going to tell me what your costume is or…?” 

“Oh no you'll have to wait and see sweetheart.” You tell her as you start getting your things ready to leave for your next class.

“Will Kate be there?” she asks, looking up at you. 

“Of course she will be.” You smiled at the thought of your girlfriend. You loved her with all of your heart. Kate was a few years younger than Wanda and yourself. A freshman while the two of you were Juniors. 

The moment you met Kate you knew she was your other half. The two of you spent all the time you could together. 

“I'll see you there Wands, okay? I gotta get to this class. If I'm late one more time he's docking me a letter grade.” Wanda shakes her head at you.

“Go on, I'll see you and Kate there.” She says with a sly smile.

At the Halloween party, the atmosphere is vibrant but eerie, with everyone in costumes ranging from creepy to ridiculous to sexy. You and Kate arrive hand-in-hand, your partner’s dark, intense stare never leaving your side, though she occasionally lets it drift over the crowd with a curious gleam.

While you catch up with Wanda, a loud scream rips through the party, sending a chill down your spine. People scramble, and the panic sets in as whispers spread: someone’s been murdered. From that moment, guests start disappearing, the once-packed house thinning out as one by one, people meet their doom. You feel Kate’s grip on your hand tighten as fear begins to gnaw at you.

Finally, when only a few remain, you glimpse a figure in a Ghostface mask lurking in the shadows. As the masked killer advances, you step back—until you realize that Kate is no longer at your side. The realization clicks in slowly, a thrill of horror and intrigue mingling as you begin to piece it together.

Your breath catches as the figure in the Ghostface mask steps forward, the dim lights casting an ominous shadow over the already blood-splattered floors. The killer moves with a confidence that’s disturbingly familiar—slow, calculated steps that feel chillingly precise, almost practiced.

“Kate?” you whisper under your breath, though your voice betrays the suspicion you’ve had for the past few minutes. She can’t hear you, but you feel the weight of her gaze behind the mask, and something within you tells you that this was always part of the plan.

The figure pauses, just feet away from you, and tilts their head as if to say, You figured it out. With trembling hands, you reach for the mask, barely daring to breathe as you lift it.

Beneath the mask is Kate’s face, her eyes glinting with a mischievous spark and a satisfied grin spreading across her lips. “Took you long enough,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing.

“What… What did you do?” you manage to ask, your voice wavering between terror and fascination. She steps closer, her hands finding their way around your waist, pulling you against her.

“Just made sure it was a party we’d never forget,” she replies nonchalantly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You feel the wet warm blood on her fingers against your skin. Her eyes gleam as she leans in, whispering, “Now lets have some fun babe.”

Despite everything, your pulse quickens—not just from fear but from the dangerous allure of Kate's touch and the promise in her gaze.

Kate’s lips crash against yours in a heated, possessive kiss, her hands tangling in your hair as if you’re the only thing grounding her. When she finally pulls back, there's a wild glint in her eyes as she slips the Ghostface mask back on, her voice dropping to a dark, teasing tone.

“Now it’s time for me to have some real fun,” she purrs. Her fingers trace your jawline, sending a shiver down your spine. “Run,” she commands, her voice dripping with anticipation. “And if I catch you… I’ll have my way with you.”

The thrill shoots through you like lightning. You don’t waste another second, spinning on your heel and darting into the maze of halls in Tony Stark’s sprawling mansion. The house looms around you, full of twists and dead ends. Your heart pounds as you slip through shadowed corridors and dimly lit rooms, the pounding of your footsteps echoing through the halls.

You think you hear her behind you—those calm, measured steps almost mocking you, growing louder. You stumble up the stairs, gasping for air as you push through the nearest door, finding yourself in one of the empty guest rooms. You press your back against the wall, holding your breath, ears straining for the sound of her approach.

A slow, taunting voice filters in through the door. “I can hear your heartbeat, you know,” Kate calls. Her words wrap around you, each syllable drenched with dark amusement. “Did you really think you could hide from me?”

Your heart skips a beat as you realize she’s right outside, just beyond the thin barrier of the door. The doorknob turns slowly, and you brace yourself as she steps inside, the mask tilted just enough that her eyes pierce through the dim light, locked solely on you.

The chase is over, and she knows it.

As soon as she steps inside, you dart for the door, hoping to slip past her and make it just a little farther. But Kate’s reflexes are sharp, her hand snapping out to grab your wrist with an iron grip. In one swift motion, she spins you around and presses you firmly against the wall, her body caging you in place.

You’re caught between the cold wall and the heat of her presence, her fingers digging into your wrists as she pins them above your head. Her breathing is steady, almost calm, while yours comes in ragged gasps. She tilts her head, her eyes visible through the mask, smoldering with an intensity that sends shivers through you.

“Thought you could get away from me?” she murmurs, her voice a soft taunt as she leans in, her lips barely brushing against the shell of your ear. “I told you, if I caught you…” She pauses, letting her words hang between you, heavy with promise. “You’re all mine now.”

A flush of adrenaline and thrill rushes through you as her lips graze along your jaw, leaving a trail of heated kisses down your neck. Her hands slowly drift down, finally releasing your wrists but keeping you firmly pressed against the wall with her body.

“You ran well,” she whispers against your skin. “But it's over.”

Kate’s hands trail down your body, lingering just enough to leave you breathless and wanting more. Her touch is possessive, claiming you in a way that should send shivers of fear through you—but instead, every nerve in your body lights up in pure anticipation. You want to resist, to hate her for this dark side that she’s unleashed, but as her lips capture yours again, any resolve you have dissolves completely.

You lean into her, your body betraying any illusion of resistance, craving the warmth of her touch and the intensity she brings. Her fingers trace your curves, igniting a fire that surges through you, leaving you clinging to her as though she’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

She notices the change in you, a smug smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. “You love this, don’t you?” she whispers, her voice a low murmur that sends a thrill straight through you. “You love me.”

And as much as you want to deny it, you can’t. Kate has you wrapped around her finger, heart racing and head spinning. Every twisted, thrilling second of this only makes you fall harder, and you know there’s no escaping—not from her, and not from the way you feel.

Kate’s fingers disappear momentarily, and when she returns, you catch a glimpse of silver gleaming in her hand. Your breath hitches as you realize she’s holding a knife—small and sharp, its blade glinting under the dim lights.

She brings the blade close to your skin, her eyes never leaving yours as she lets it hover near your collarbone. “Don’t move,” she whispers, her voice both a warning and a promise. Slowly, she presses the flat side of the knife against your skin, letting the cold metal glide along your collarbone and down the curve of your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Your heartbeat pounds as her hand moves with expert precision, the blade tracing patterns over your skin, never breaking it but skimming just enough to keep you on edge. She’s in complete control, and there’s a dark satisfaction in her gaze as she watches every shiver that her touch elicits from you.

The knife drifts lower, following the line of your arm, before moving back up to rest just over your racing pulse. “Still with me?” she murmurs, her lips ghosting over your cheek as she leans in close.

You manage a nod, voice caught in your throat, and her grin widens, a hint of pride mingling with something far darker. The blade continues its slow, tortuous path, tracing the line of your neck and collarbone, reminding you with every pass that she has you completely, utterly at her mercy.

The sharp prick of the knife against your skin sends a hiss escaping your lips, a mix of pain and thrill that rushes through you as tiny bubbles of red rise to the surface. Kate’s gaze locks onto the crimson beads, her breath hitching as if she’s savoring every second of your reaction. There’s a hunger in her eyes that goes beyond words, a craving that runs deep, and you can tell she wants more.

Her fingers linger on the knife just a moment longer before her eyes flick back to yours, dark with desire. Slowly, she guides you from the wall toward the bed, her movements calm but unmistakably possessive. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air as she settles you onto the edge, her hands steady as she tilts your chin up to keep your gaze fixed on her.

Kate’s fingers glide over the small mark she’s left on your skin, smearing the faint traces of red as if claiming you in a way that’s both gentle and deeply, darkly intimate. She leans in, her lips barely brushing against your ear as she whispers, “You’re mine… every part of you.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, and as she pulls back, you feel her hand press you down onto the bed, her fingers trailing possessively along your body. There’s a fire in her eyes, one that promises you’re in for a night that will leave its mark on both your skin and your memory. And as much as you should resist, you can’t help but melt beneath her touch, surrendering entirely to her intoxicating presence.

Kate’s hips press firmly against yours, and the friction of the silicone she’s packing against you makes your eyes flutter, a whimper escaping as she grinds deeper, savoring every reaction. Her hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as she positions herself, the mask barely concealing her wicked grin.

Without hesitation, she sinks into you, and you gasp, feeling her stretch you with ease. She fills you perfectly, her movements slow and purposeful, drawing out every delicious inch. A low groan slips from her lips, muffled beneath the mask as she starts to move, each thrust more intense than the last.

“Fuck, babe,” she pants, her voice heavy with satisfaction as she watches you writhe beneath her. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt you this wet.” Her tone is thick with pride, taunting and possessive, each word making your pulse race faster.

With every thrust, she presses deeper, her rhythm unrelenting as she wraps her hand around your thigh, pulling you closer, her breath quickening as she watches the way you fall apart beneath her. Each moan, each gasp, only seems to spur her on, and you know from the look in her eyes that she’s nowhere near finished with you.

Your release crashes over you, and for a fleeting moment, you think she might give you a second to recover. But Kate’s thrusts don’t relent, and her grip on your thigh only tightens. A dark, determined look settles in her eyes as she grins beneath the mask, her voice a low, possessive growl.

“I’m not done with you, babe. We’re going to keep going,” she promises, her words drenched in intent. She leans in closer, pressing you deeper into the bed, her thrusts driving you into a haze of overstimulation that leaves your head spinning, every nerve alive with a mix of pleasure and intensity.

The blade makes sporadic appearances, gliding across your skin with expert care, just enough to keep your senses heightened. Each pass sends sparks through you, leaving faint red lines that she traces with her fingers, her gaze fixed on your every reaction, almost mesmerized by the effect she has on you.

Your body trembles beneath her, every sensation amplified as the line between pain and pleasure blurs into a dizzying euphoria. She picks up her pace, grinding deeper, watching as you unravel all over again beneath her. The overstimulation is relentless, and as the world spins around you, you can only cling to her, completely at her mercy.

The sun’s first rays spill across the horizon, casting a soft, almost surreal glow over the world as you and Kate finally stumble out of the mansion. You make it to her car, exhausted and exhilarated, bodies aching from the night’s intensity. Kate’s Ghostface costume lies discarded in the backseat, and she’s back to her usual self, though her eyes still hold that dangerous, satisfied gleam as she starts the engine, focused on the road.

You take a deep breath and check your phone, seeing a string of worried messages from Wanda. Your heart clenches as you read them:

Did you make it out?

Please, Y/N, answer me…

If I don’t hear from you soon, I’m calling the cops.

A pang of guilt flickers as you glance over at Kate, who doesn’t seem the least bit concerned as she drives, one hand resting casually on the wheel, fingers tapping to some rhythm only she can hear. You quickly type out a message to reassure Wanda.

I’m fine. I got home with Kate, and we took our minds off things.

A few moments later, your phone buzzes with her reply: Thank god… Just text me later, okay? I was scared. You feel a strange blend of guilt and thrill, thinking back on everything that happened, knowing that the night’s secrets are locked safely between you and Kate.

You slip your phone into your lap, stealing a glance at her, your heart racing all over again as she smirks, catching your gaze. “What?” she teases, a satisfied glint in her eye.

“Nothing,” you reply softly, the thrill from last night lingering as you reach over, your fingers brushing hers. Whatever’s next, you know that with Kate, you’re in for one hell of a ride.

[fayesia]

Day 5 - monsterfucking

"Lust and Sin" - trueform!Sukuna x reader

ִֶָ𓂃˖ ִֶָ✰࿐ warnings - dubcon, Sukuna has two dicks confirmed, breeding kink, degradation, dirty talk, size difference, handjob, choking, wet messy sex

ִֶָ𓂃˖ ִֶָ✰࿐ wc - 1.5k

Sukuna was a controlling ruler. He took over good to make it evil and was well aware of the mere sorcerors who kneeled before him, or death would await them.

At least that's the story your friends had gathered around to hear before you left home for the night.

It was quiet, and the streets were empty, not too unusual for 11pm on a Thursday, but still unsettling with the dim street lights barely providing you with decent vision of your surroundings.

You feel goosebumps on your arms, and your senses feel at least 3 times more heightened than normal, and then you feel like you're suffocating.

That's the warning your friend gave about what meeting the King of Curses was like.

So why was it happening to you right now.

At the end of the street was him. Well, he was just a hooded figure, but you could tell. The shape of his shadow showed off his broad shoulders and the shape of his four arms. You stood frozen, unable to move, stuck in place with no escape.

Fear spreading through you as he neared, his steps were echoing across the pavement, and your eyes widened as his face was caught under the light of a street lamp. Tattoos covered his face, and the gentle nights breeze moved his cloak, uncovering brief glimpses of the tattoos continuing down his arms and chest.

"My my, what's a pretty thing like you doing all alone. Don't you know it's dangerous. you wouldn't believe what monsters lurk around."

He smirked at you, whispering the last part a mere inch from your face, where you were able to see all of his beautiful cursed details. This was also when you noticed the striking height difference as he leaned down to talk to you a considerable amount. Your thighs uncontrollably shifted together at his voice and demeanour.

This was not what you expected from the King of Curses. Rather, the thought of even stumbling across his did not form in your mind.

A mere myth your friend had comforted another in the group who seemed too fearful to make their way home. Should've been you who thought with that much caution, maybe you would not be stood in front of Sukuna like this.

"Would you like my protection on your travel home"

Unsure of what to say, you crumbled under the pressure, simply nodding at a loss for words. Walking alongside you, Sukuna took you home, acting as a bodyguard quite convincingly with his tall broad stature and bulky four arms ready to attack anything.

Stopping in front of your one story apartment door, you turned to thank the King.

"Oh no pretty girl, you didn't think you'd get rid of me that easily"

"What do you mean..listen it's late and I really got to go but thank you uhm.."

Your voice trailed off when you realised he was waiting for you to finish rather than take his leave.

Grinning his signature sadistic grin his hand twisted the now unlocked doorknob to push the front door open.

"My protection comes with a price sweetheart. So in you go"

Aware of the fact that there was no fighting this mass of a creature you follow his instructions, dropping your purse on the kitchen counter before removing your jacket and turning to face the King of Curses now stood by your living room.

"Can I get you anything..water or tea. I don't have much to eat, only shopping tomorrow"

You nervously rambled, avoiding any eye contact and praying Sukuna would take his leave and forget about any favours due.

But of course not.

"Hmm no no don't worry yourself with any of that, come here."

Gesturing you to join him on your couch, you hesitantly walked over. "Listen, I don't have any money right now, but -"

"Stupid girl. You think I want your pathetic money."

Wrapping his hand around your arm, he dragged you to sit on his thigh. Nuzzling his nose against your neck, you froze in shock.

"Just want you. It's been too long since I've divulged in your kind."

Inhaling your scent, his hand grabbed your chin forcing you to look at him.

"Can you do that for me, be a good slut"

His words reached your core and you shuffled your position on his thick thigh.

"Y-yes I can"

"Hmm, good. Will you let me use you, treat your like a whore."

Nodding slowly, you agreed because one, things would not end well if you disagreed and two, who in their right mind would deny fucking this King who's basically a sex god.

A huff of laughter escaped him, whether he could read your mind or was shocked at your eagerness, you could not tell. Reaching at you, two of his arms positioned you to straddle him while the other two were busy unbotting his pants, tugging them down so he could free his cock-wait. There wasn't just one, but two?!?!

Sure, your friends had giggled hearing about this, but you all agreed it was inaccurate bullshit someone must have made up as a joke.

Your shocked expression matched all the thoughts in your mind. However, the feeling of his fingertips running up your back brought you to the present time.

"Don't worry I'll be gentle. At first"

His words were followed by the unzipping of your dress as its material flowed off your legs and onto the carpet.

"Look at me, I want to see you when I fuck you"

The vulgar words formed an embarrassing puddle in your panties, one Sukuna found soon with the swipe of his fingers against your core. A soft sigh escaping you form the brief contact against your sensitive parts. Dragging it off your legs as well, it joins your dress on the floor and he smiled at you to provide some comfort, except his smile was full of lust and sin. Gripping one of his cocks the bulbous head drags across your wet pussy, coating himself with your essence before breaching your tight hole. Two hands are busy holding your waist in place to his liking, while the third strokes your face and the fourth is fondling your chest. His thick fingers pinch at your nipples drawing out louder noises from you and urging more movement as you ride his dick.

"So perfectly tight for me aren't you. Enjoy me using you with my big dick right"

"Fuck- ngh please Sukuna move"

"Oh yeah you're enjoying this aren't you"

Thrusting out and into you, your pussy stretches to accommodate his thick girth, your liquids drip down his length and onto the second one which he's stroking using one of his hands to keep busy. The sounds of skin slapping bounces off the walls as his hands grab the flesh of your ass.

"You want to pay me back, do me a favour and keep my dick busy"

Your hand is dragged down to replace his, wrapping around the girth of his second dick, feeling his precum drip down the sides and over the veins. Flicking your wrist up and down Sukuna groans out gripping the fat of your ass tighter,

"Didn't tell you to stop moving did i"

His tone prompts you to continue moving and your urged even more when his free hand comes down to swipe across your clit. Letting out a mewl you whine out rocking your hips faster but losing momentum quickly.

"Fuck didn't tell you to stop. Stupid slut can't do anything fucking right."

Whining out at the loss of friction, Sukuna grabs your thighs, curling his biceps around them and lifts his hips to enter your again. Furiously, he pounds into your hole hissing as your nails claw at his shoulders. You yelp as his hand slaps against your ass, the sting followed by two more slaps.

"Want me to cum inside you, fill you up with my seed, have my fucking babies."

Arching at his words, you moan out as he growls against your chest. Continuing to pound into you, his hands occasionally comes down to slap your ass while he rubs your pussy, struggling to even get a grip on the liquid covered skin. His thrust become almost impossibly faster as his fourth hand slides up to your neck, wrapping around your throat.

"Want you to come with me, fill you up with so much cum you won't be able to fucking move"

Gasping for oxygen your hand claws against his own, quickly becoming limp when Sukuna fully thrust once more into you, his balls pressing up against your skin as you feel his cum fill you, meanwhile the knot in your stomach had tightened until the feeling of your climax washed over you. Back arching, while both of you release noises akin to a porno, until his seed stops filling you and you fall limp against his hard chest.

Moving your leg to the side Sukuna drags two thick fingers up your thighs and across your folds, collecting any spilt cum to push back inside of you, stating with a sadistic smirk that you,

"Can't waste a Kings cum."

Kinktober Masterlist

[amirasainz]

The avengers of Formula 1

request: Would love to see baby sainz suddenly approached by a male who is not in F1 and suddenly everyone shows up like the avengers to scare him away ❤️❤️❤️

It was a sunny day at the Marina Bay street circuit. It was the first time Amira had ever visited Singapore. One could clearly see how delighted Carlos was to have his baby sister by his side.

As they entered the paddock, the Sainz siblings were surrounded by Carlos’s fellow colleagues. Of course, it was just a coincidence that Lewis, Lando, and Oscar were at the entrance as well. It’s not like they had been waiting there for the past 20 minutes.

As soon as Carlos saw them, he knew what he had to do. “Hermanita, look! There’s a bit of shade. Why don’t you sit down and wait for me for a second? I will come back with an umbrella. We wouldn’t want you to get a sunburn, right?”

“Okay, Chilli,” she answered with a dimpled smile. Carlos swore his heart melted. He leaned down and gave her head a quick kiss. When he turned around, the other drivers were already approaching. After a quick look back at his hermanita, Carlos began to drag those demons away from his darling sister.

“Hey! You can’t just drag me away like a potato sack, you muppet!” Lando complained. Lewis and Oscar followed them like little children.

“Muppet? MUPPET?! You do not get to call me a muppet when you’ve been lurking at the entrance like a… a… como un bicho raro!”

When Lewis and Oscar started to chuckle, Carlos immediately turned to them. “And YOU! How dare you wait for my sister. I expected it from Lando,” “Hey!” “But you two? Unbelievable!”

During their scolding, the quartet was approached by other drivers. Charles was gloating with happiness. For once, he was not on the receiving end of Carlos’s yelling.

After some time, it was George who interrupted Carlos’s yelling. “Oh, what the hell?! Who is THIS idiot?” All the drivers turned to look at what George was pointing at.

There she was. Amira Sainz was talking to a man. A stranger! From far away, they could see the guy trying to flirt with her. But baby girl was that dense and thought he was just a nice guy trying to strike up a conversation.

When he sat down next to her, the other drivers exchanged amused glances. Carlos clenched his fists, ready to intervene if necessary. Little did he know that this chance encounter would change everything.

When he sat down next to her, the drivers saw red. How dare he sit down next to her, talk to her, or even breathe the same air as her?!

Quicker than a Mercedes F1 car, all the drivers sprinted to her side. The air filled with screams of “Oi, Idiote!” and “Hijo de puta!” and “Back the fuck off, dude!”—followed by Oscar’s emphatic “Stranger Danger!”

Imagine Baby Sainz’s surprise. One second she was chatting with the friendly stranger who called her the most beautiful girl in the world, and the next, she was engulfed by her brother and her friends. From the outside, it looked like a massive puppy pile.

While the drivers were busy scolding the man (and ensuring he’d be banned from the track), Carlos raced to Amira’s side. He instantly dropped to his knees and cradled her face in his hands.

“Pobrecito mío. ¿Este idiota te estaba molestando? ¿Estaba siendo grosero? ¡Oh, Santa María, estás tan pálida!” During Carlos’s rapid-fire rant, she just stared at him with wide eyes. When she made a confused noise, he immediately stood up, took his sister’s hand, and led her toward the parking lot.

“Oh, my poor hermanita. I’m so sorry. Let’s go shopping and grab something to eat. That must have been really scary!”

With that, the Sainz siblings left the track and headed to the nearest high-fashion shop.

As for the man? Well, let’s just say he vanished from the racing scene—never to be seen on any track again. 😇

Let me know what you thought about this littles piece. My request are OPEN. I will try to update as soon as possible💕

-XoXo

@barcelonaloverf1life @omgsuperstarg @formula1mount @xoscar03 @stinkyjax @khaylin27 @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @tinyhrry

[broidobe]

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔲𝔰

requested! god DAMN this was sooooo interesting to write. i hope you like it!!!!

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

⁎⁺˳✧༚the silence after us

the rain fell softly against the window, a quiet rhythm against the chaos of the day. the world outside felt muted, but here, inside our small apartment, there was peace—a rare thing when you lived with axl. he sat at the edge of the couch, barefoot, guitar across his lap. his fingers traced the strings absently, his voice humming a melody he hadn’t yet given words to.

you leaned against the doorway, watching him. his profile looked soft in this light, eyes focused, brow furrowed as he played. for a moment, it was easy to forget the fire that lurked beneath his skin, the temper that could consume everything if left unchecked.

“you’re staring,” he said suddenly, his voice low and gravelly but tinged with amusement.

you rolled your eyes. “i’m allowed to stare. you’re pretty when you’re not screaming at people.”

axl glanced up, lips twitching. “oh, so i’m a monster the rest of the time?”

“sometimes.”

he smirked but said nothing, turning back to his guitar. there it was again—the quiet. these moments were why you stayed. for all his fire and fury, axl had these cracks of gentleness, glimpses of the man he tried so hard to be. the man you loved.

but cracks, no matter how small, are still fractures waiting to spread.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the fight started small. they always did.

you had come home late—not by hours, but long enough to irritate him. axl was already in one of his moods, pacing the length of the living room when you walked in. his anger simmered just beneath the surface, like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.

“where the hell have you been?”

you sighed, dropping your bag by the door. “out. i told you i was meeting some friends.”

“yeah? well, maybe next time you could come home like you actually live here.”

“axl, i—”

“you know how it feels? sitting here like an idiot, wondering where you are, wondering if you even want to be here anymore?” his voice was sharp, words clipped like they might cut him, too.

you froze. “that’s not fair. you know that’s not fair.”

“you keep saying you love me, but i—”

“i do love you!”

“then why don’t you act like it?” axl’s voice was a roar, shattering the fragile calm of the room. it happened so fast: his hand slamming against the kitchen counter, the sharp sound echoing in the small space.

you flinched, the sound reverberating in your chest. axl didn’t touch you. he never touched you. but sometimes, words and actions left bruises you couldn’t see.

“you’re being ridiculous,” you whispered, voice trembling. “you’re spiraling over nothing. why do you always do this?”

axl’s face darkened. “do what?”

“blow up! yell at me! twist everything i say like i’m the enemy!”

“because you don’t understand!” his voice cracked, but it didn’t soften. “you don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re losing everything, everyone, every fucking second of the day.”

you stared at him. for a long, painful beat, neither of you spoke. then you grabbed your coat from the back of the chair, your hands trembling.

“where are you going?” axl asked, his voice quieter now but still tight.

“out,” you said, mirroring his earlier tone. “i need air.”

“don’t.”

“don’t what?” you turned to look at him. he looked smaller suddenly, like a boy drowning in his own emotions. “don’t leave? don’t give up on you? that’s all i ever do, axl. i don’t know how much more i have left to give.”

the words hung heavy in the air as you walked out, the door slamming shut behind you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the apartment was quiet.

axl sat on the floor, his back against the couch, staring blankly at the spot where you’d stood. the anger had evaporated, leaving only cold regret in its place. he could still hear the echo of his own voice—harsh, cruel, like someone he didn’t even recognize.

his hand shook as he lit a cigarette, but the smoke didn’t calm him. nothing could calm him. he reached for his guitar, but the strings felt foreign beneath his fingers. he strummed aimlessly, the notes jagged and wrong, until he slammed the instrument down beside him with a broken sob.

“fuck,” he whispered, running his hands through his hair. “fuck.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

days passed. weeks.

when you finally met again, it was in a small diner on the edge of town. axl was already there, sitting in the back corner, a baseball cap pulled low over his face. he looked up when you walked in, his eyes rimmed red and tired. he hadn’t been sleeping.

you sat across from him, clutching your coat around your body like armor. neither of you spoke at first.

“i’m sorry,” axl said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “for that night. for everything.”

you nodded. “i know you are.”

“i didn’t mean it. any of it. you know that, right?”

“i know.” yout voice was soft, but your eyes were steady. “but it’s not enough, axl.”

he flinched like i’d hit him. “i can change. i swear i can. just… give me another chance.”

you looked at him for a long time, at the man you loved—still loved—and the boy inside him who was so afraid of being abandoned. your heart ached, but some wounds couldn’t be patched up with promises.

“i love you,” you said finally. “but love isn’t enough. not when it hurts like this.”

you stood up, the chair scraping softly against the floor. axl reached out like he might stop you, but his hand fell back to his side. he watched you walk away, disappearing through the diner door into the cold, gray morning.

[moronkombat]

(If you're comfortable only!)

Can we ask for a yandere hc of Liu Kang and Shang Tsung? It could be anything! Tysm!

yess some yandere. bless u for requesting. tw: for unhealthy obsessions, stalking, manipulation

Liu Kang made you for him and him alone. You were created to be his. His precious treasure, a doll for him to dress and love

That is why he has watched you for so long now. He has been waiting as you move through life and he sees all that you but you are so unaware of his presence

But it has always been there, lurking and plotting. Never have you been in the arms of anyone else. Every time you formed a relationship with someone there always something that ruined it

You think you must have rotten luck when it comes to relationships but it is so out of your control

Liu Kang won't tolerate another having you. No that won't do at you. You were created just for him and no one else

Shadows begin to lurk and you see things within, just out of reach. You walk down a street and the shadows follow you. You swear you see eyes that glow bright within them but you can never truly catch them

Then you faces in the crowd, the same face. It is a man you don't know but his eyes pierce you and they glow with otherworldly beautiy

You tell your friends, you tell them there is someone there but they see no one. That face has disappeared when they turn their heads to look

Crazy...you must be right? Seeing glowing eyes in the dark and now a face to match them? This can't be real, there is something wrong with you

No, there isn't. You are perfect. Liu Kang made you to be. He watches as your eyes widen and dart around looking for the face in the crowd. He cannot help but find your terrified curiosity endearing

Playing with you brings him smiles but to have you completely will bring him so much more. It is in the night that he comes for you

There you lay unknowing and defenseless and Liu Kang drinks in the sight of you and his hands glide and hover over you

When he's had enough of carnal gazes, he'll wake you and oh how you scream when you see the face that has been haunting you from the shadows

You scream, call for help and Liu Kang can only smile. The only help you'll ever need is right here. You're silenced then and his whispers begin to fill your ears

He speaks of how he has been watching you since the beginning, detailing all the events of your life and deepest secrets. Lips at your ear smirk as you shake and quiver

Your hand moves to strike him but he catches it and there is something different about him now. His grip on your wrist is tight and burning

You yelp and wince but he doesn't let go and now he's scolding you. How dare you try to hit him, you must have done that by accident surely? You would never hit the man who loves you so much. The man who is going to take you away and keep you safe forever

No, you don't want to leave but you have no choice. Dragged and pulled from your bed, he carries you all the while you cry and scream

Lips find your eyes, kissing away your tears and you try to turn your head but his hold on you is firm. He will never let you go

Liu Kang keeps you in a place most hidden away from the world. A place you do not know. A place where time seems to never move. Locked away in a room where he leaves beautiful little dresses for you to wear

You refuse and he appears disappointed and then stern. Must he teach you manners? You have forced his hand you see? He doesn't want to discipline you but when you misbehave you need to learn

You must learn there is no life outside this place. There is no escape to a paradise. There is only him and it will never change

It takes but a first look at you and Shang Tsung is captivated. The way you move, the way you smile...yes he must have them. He must have you

But he mustn't be hasty, no no that wouldn't do at all. If he to have you then he must plan very carefully. You will need to become dependent on him. All others from your life must be removed

And so he worms his way into your life by putting on a friendly smile and offering to help you with picking up the bag you dropped

Yes, he did well having you trip so you'd fall and be in need of help but you don't know that only he does

He introduces himself and so do you. It is of little use, however, he knows it already. He knows much about you and soon Shang Tsung will know it all

Shang Tsung becomes a friend to you rather quickly. He is always there when you seem to need him. He there to comfort you when something has upset you like when your partner left you without much word

Oh how you cried in his arms and oh how he caressed and rubbed your back, offering you words of sympathy. With your eyes buried in tears you didn't see how devilish that smirk of his was

Yes, in that moment while you cried he found himself rather sentimental. Shang Tsung recalled how troublesome your partner was to his plans. It only natural that they be removed, that they disappear

There he is to pick up your broken pieces but you were not shattered enough for him to completely consume you

More and more seem to go terribly wrong in your life but it's okay though because Shang Tsung is always there for you and happy to help you with all your troubles

Troubles he has caused. Troubles he has orchestrated as the puppet master wielding those strings. He cuts all those vexing connections to others you have. There no room for anyone else. It will be his strings alone that coil around you

You are grateful to him just as he has planned and predicted. So close now you are to being so broken, so worn down. You are nearly his

When he holds you in his arms, you at your lowest point, he simply cannot wait any longer. Oh how he loves the terror that twists your face as he reveals all he has done

He relishes in your shock, your disbelief and there he sees just the last of you fall apart and it makes him smile coyly

You scream, you cry, you plead for understanding but you will receive none. He did this because he loves you and you do not need anyone else but him. He just had to make you realize that

The world is burning, you are panicked, you feel sick. How can this be? Why is this happening? You need to wake up from this nightmare?

There is no such sanctuary. There is only him and his snake like arms that keep you close and command you. You cry until there are no tears left

Don't worry though, Shang Tsung will take care of you. He always has and now he can forever uninterrupted

thank you for the request!!! i love writing the nasty dark stuff!!

[wannaeatramyeon]

Fem!reader Isekai in Lookism ?

Anon, so sorry I'm answering this exactly 3 months later. You're my last request from May and I was soooo close to deleting it because I have had exactly zero ideas. Then I got partly inspired by @honeyhotteok fic here and now I'm running on less than 3hrs sleep in work and it's your fault. Oh yeah, and I've completely twisted the ask as well. It's not even close. So all that wait was for nothing 🙇🏻‍♀️

Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse

G/N. You work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. You meet bizarre characters on different nights. Part 2

There's something wrong with people your age these days.

Everyone seems to be either in a gang or up to some shady shit. Seriously what is going on. Is this all a big joke that only you aren't in on?

Just the other day you swear you saw a group of guys in boiler suits punch through some walls across the street. Like what the fuck? What did the wall ever do to you? And then someone apparently called Tabasco starts chanting something about Burn Knuckles and oh my fucking god it's 11pm please shut up.

Oh course you never said that, you still have some sense of self preservation.

And how does anyone even have the time for all this. Between school and this part time job, you barely have enough hours to sleep.

You miss Daniel, the coworker who you haven't seen for a good year but used to gossip into the early morning with. He always seemed a bit nervous and fidgety when you voiced your concerns and observations, but you just assumed he was a nervous and fidgety kinda guy.

There would have been some fun stories to share. Instead now you work the graveyard shift on your own.

.

.

Case in point, the guy standing in front of you looks like one bad conversation away from a mental breakdown.

And really you're not in the habit of checking out customers but he cuts a striking figure. Every exposed inch of skin besides his face inked, and (you silently ask for his forgiveness for the objectification) the biggest chest you have ever seen. What even is this guy eating? What is this guy injecting? Lifting?

The question is almost out of your mouth but then you see the look in his eyes and slam your lips shut.

Nevermind. You ring his purchases through and tell him to have a good night.

.

.

You're restocking the shelves when you notice a guy with a scar across his lip and nose, dripping blood from god knows where all over your freshly mopped floor.

Which is alarming in itself but come on man. Look at the floors. You're making it so fucking gross.

He notices you watching him, gives you an apologetic look and says he'll take care of it.

He makes a quick call and in comes 26 guys, one after the other and they line up in front of him.

You know it's exactly 26 because you counted all 26. And you've also watched all 26 pairs of dirty shoes trample over your previously nice clean floor.

The blood drippy guy asks politely for the mop and bucket and you think this must be some sort of prank because why the hell is this even necessary. 26 guys to share your one solitary mop and bucket and to clean a goddamn floor that you managed in 10 minutes.

"Get out." He blinks at you, taken aback by your tone. "Or I'm calling the police."

.

.

"You can bring your pups in!" You call out to the emo teen lurking outside.

Health and safety be damned because look how fucking cute these dogs are!

He hesitates but then the rain grows heavier and all three rush in.

You miss the suspicious glance he gives you, too fixated on how adorable the dogs are. You don't even mind their wet fur or muddy paws because look at these little babies!

And huh, this guy must really love them too with his, you squint, God? Dog? hoodie on. D'aww that's so stinking sweet.

.

.

Damnit, you knew these two would be trouble the moment they stepped foot into your store.

The tall blonde just gives off a distinct creepy vibe and the shorter one has his entire eyebrows shaved off.

Shaved. Off.

You couldn't help but stare when you put their purchases through and noticed some regrowth and stubble. Is this a trend you missed out on? Either way you're glad because there's no way you're shaving off your own eyebrows.

They converse in Japanese, not even saying a word to you. No thanks or anything, which is fine you suppose. But then they pay you in fucking yen.

They're out the door by the time you see the cash and fuck. Your boss is going to go apeshit when he finds out.

.

.

"What do you think, sweetheart?"

A new blonde guy addresses you tonight and for crying out loud, you just want a quiet shift.

What do you think of his white suit? With the garish LV logos? That it's tacky as fuck. That anyone with any sort of taste would never ever wear that. You keep your actual thoughts to yourself and instead just say it's fine.

That does nothing to subdue the blonde. He does stop talking to you though, and just mutters bitterly under his breath. You catch the words blind and tasteless.

His partner smirks at your response.

And isn't that a whole other kettle of fish because it's currently 2am and you're indoors and who the hell wears sunglasses right now. You think he's a douche of the highest calibre.

The smirk is wiped from his face when he asks for cigarettes and you ask for ID. He doesn't have it on him.

"No can do. No ID, no sale."

He leans aggressively into your space, and reveals his eyes peering over his sunglasses.

My god, what is up with this duo? One with the tacky suit, and this one with the ugly black contact lenses.

You don't budge and the guy is dragged out by the blonde cackling.

Ugh. That laugh gives you a headache for the rest of your shift.

.

.

You really wish customers would stop involving you in their conversation.

This one, who looks exactly like how you would imagine a SoundCloud rapper that has their mother following them and no one else, asks you to listen to his music.

He insists that he's good as the blonde girl rolls her eyes.

You listen to about 10 seconds and make up your mind.

He's wrong. He's very wrong. You want to suggest he gets checked out at the doctor because clearly his ears aren't working properly.

Instead, you mention you like Duke Pyeon, he's more your taste. Has he heard of him? It's the wrong thing to say though because this guy looks angrier than you've ever seen anyone.

"Don't start Vin, I've seen you listening to his music." The girl scoffs.

'Vin' shouts in indignation and storms off with his friend trailing closely behind.

.

.

"Can I help?" You ask with your customer service voice and customer service smile.

He has been standing in front of the hair dyes for a good ten minutes as his friend looks increasingly bored and you can't blame him.

"No thanks, I'm just browsing," he responds and you tell him you'll be just over there if he needs anything.

You kill some time playing on your phone, look up, and both of them are still in the exact same spot.

The one with the H on his neck looks about ready to tear his hair out.

"Come on bro, just pick one!"

"No Warren, this is important. I need it to suit my new aesthetics."

You shrug and return back to your kitty kat restaurant game.

.

.

"Cool glasses," you tell the guy walking around the store and he looks affronted at first before realising you're being sincere and gives you a small smile instead.

You wonder if you can pull off orange tinted glasses too or whether you'd just look like an idiot. It's probably the latter you decide when you ring up his energy drinks.

"I'm a boxer," he offers, as if you're judging the amount of caffeine he's going to slam down.

"Ok?"

"I need it for my training."

"Sure."

You've seen weirder purchases and weirder combinations. The people coming in looking frantic and buying a single plunger or pack of toilet paper never fails to make you chuckle.

To be honest the amount he's buying is a bit nuts, and you wonder if he's going to drink it all in one go. You probably wouldn't sleep for a year if it was you.

"Enjoy your training," you say, heaving and handing over the bag of 19 cans.

.

.

A mute blonde gestures at you

You try to use some sign language, but he looks at you as if you're crazy. At least you think he does but you can't see his eyes.

Somehow you're able to decipher he's lost his dogs. Four. Golden retrievers. And he asks if you have seen them.

(Huh. Do you have telepathy? Do you have the gift?)

You tell him no and he sprints out.

You spend the rest of your shift trying to move things with your newly discovered psychic powers.

Spoiler: you have zero powers. Zilch.

.

.

You think you might be having a stroke.

Because on what planet did this K-pop idol think the disguise would work. Cap and mask on but tufts of pink hair poking out and dressed completely in white.

It's like he's asking for attention and for people to ooh and aah over who that could be.

As he leaves, you shout that you can't wait for his next album. He turns around in complete shock that you recognised him, as if you solved the world's hardest puzzle.

It's a good job that DG has such a pretty face because what an idiot.

.

.

You hear two voices mention the words Daniel Park and your ears perk up, wondering if it's about your old colleague.

Nah. You're just being silly. It's not an uncommon name at all and too much of a coincidence.

"I haven't seen Daniel in ages! Have you heard from him, Zoe?"

"No," you see her friend shake her head from the corner of your eye.

The brown haired girl tilts her head in thought, "I wonder how Zack is doing too. I haven't seen him in so long."

"Ohhh~ you miss him!"

"O-of course I do! He's a friend!" She blushes bright red and you chuckle to yourself.

'Friend', sure.

For the rest of the shift, you reminisce about how you used to tiptoe around your feelings with your boyfriend, Taehoon, too.

[shiny-jr]

Could you do a piece of the octotrio(individually) where they confess to the reader but they reject them because they don't like them,the whole chapter 3 situation, and the reader knows that they obviously do even more shady shit? Like Jade and Floyd are pretty much confirmed part of the fish mafia, Azul is a slimeball capitalist and by relation to the twins will do even more deplorable shit. Kinda like what you did for Malleus, Kalim and Leona,please?

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto.

Summary: You already had a handful with adjusting to life at Night Raven College, what you didn't need was the extra attention from a curious student of Octavinelle. Those of Octavinelle were bad news, and you did not need whatever bad news they decided to deliver to you with a bouquet of flowers.

Note: Anon, as soon as I read this request, I made a face. And not a bad face. It's hard to describe, but to assure you, I immediately muttered, "Now that's what I'm talking about." I'm so terribly picky with accepting requests, and I hate it, but this one managed to catch my eye immediately. Man, do I love rejection requests. Rejected sad and crazy boy hours are here.

Added: I drafted this up months ago and haven't touched it until now. I've been struggling on Floyd's part, so I just decided to finish Azul's part and put that out.

When you suddenly awoke in a floating coffin and miraculously became a student at this magic school, you expected surprises but not like this. As if trying to go through the daily motions while wondering which student would snap next wasn't enough, now you had a particular fellow lurking about and watching you. It would only be a matter of time before they grew tired of waiting and would decide to strike.

Oh, would you look at that. This greedy merman now has his sights set on acquiring your love. How did this happen? Why is this happening? It's difficult to tell, but for now you can only hope that he isn't concocting some terrible plot for you.

He's terribly intelligent and much too cunning, then he has his business facade to top it off. But so many times, so many times, his facade has nearly cracked around you. In fact, you wouldn't exactly call him "cool and collected." There's a little desperation in his tone when he asks for your time in a worthwhile exchange, he states. Or how his hand grips yours and lingers for much longer than is necessary whenever he has an excuse to shake your hand. And the freebies, oh god the freebies. You don't trust anything "free" from him, but he's always offering an abundance of goods, a token of goodwill, he says. Not that you trust that either.

Azul generally seems like a talented and clever guy destined for success. But, you prefer to have no affiliation with him. It's his methods to success that you can't exactly approve of. The scams, the tricks, the intimidation, every bad deed was done in such a meticulous way under certain circumstances he sets so that he faces no repercussions in the end should something go astray. Which is why when you caught on to his desire to be close to you and give you gifts, it placed you on edge as you anticipated the big moment he would act on those feelings.

"Why, hello, dearest. What a pleasant surprise seeing you here! You do know you are always welcome in my lounge." Azul exclaimed in greeting, as if the twins hadn't herded you here. The dorm leader stood in front of your table, serving you the food you begrudgingly ordered once you realized you wouldn't be allowed to go off the hook so easily. "I hope the meal is to your liking. Now that the opportunity has presented itself, I'd like to speak with you. I must admit, I've taken quite the liking to you, so please, I implore you, consider the rare proposition I'm about to offer." Azul flashed that award-winning business smile, as he held up a bouquet of flowers decorated with colorful pastel shells. He had practiced his speech for hours, and now he was awaiting your response. However, when he noticed your hesitance and obvious discomfort, his heart stopped.

His smile became more strained as he went off script, attempting to further convince them that he was a worthy suitor.

"I assure you, I will be a wonderful significant other. Not only am I the head of the Octavinelle dorm, but I am a top student as well. As you know, I also own the Mostro Lounge and have a great many connections to students across campus."

With every second that passed, he was growing more desperate. That much was obvious.

"If you desire gifts, I will deliver gifts. If you wish for affection, I will drown you in my affection. If you ask for praise, I will pen poetry that rivals literature venerating the most coveted figures in the land and sea's histories!"

Well, this was awkward. You did not anticipate him to have the brazenness to confess publicly. It felt more like a business proposition than a confession. Maybe this was a part of his plan to profess his affection in his lounge, a controlled environment, where there was a higher chance you would accept under the pressure of the many eyes of other customers taking notice. His smile faltered the more the unease festered in his gaze as each second passed.

The answer was no. You wouldn't date him even if the deal included a weekly allowance, because you had a lot more to lose. You weren't sure what category Azul fell into. Acquaintance? Yes. Friend? Possibly, but that was pushing it a bit.

The owner of the lounge was greedy, cunning, and conniving. No matter what he had, it never was enough. Even when he swiped the powers of countless fellow students, he still wanted more. If you gave him an inch, he would take a mile. And you weren't exactly quick to forgive him for his many past transgressions.

Even if he's claimed to have mended all his ways, repented, seen the light, and made a switch, Azul remains a business man above all. And honestly, you'd rather not be dragged into his affairs, especially since you're fairly certain that some of the things he's done may be unlawful or accomplished by going through loopholes in laws. All of his attention and time was consumed by his academics, his business, and creating other deals to earn a profit. These were the three that took up his time the most, and it kept him incredibly busy. That was one thing, the other was this: How long would things be sweet before he allowed his desire to sour the relationship? Sure, at first he may shower you in gifts, cash, and affection, but you're sure that eventually the relationship would become bitter by his possessiveness and bottomless greed.

So... you're declining... I see. Perhaps the incentives aren't enough. Allow me to offer you something more. He felt humiliated. The rejection gave him flashbacks to primary school and his constant refusals then, but this one hurt ten times harder. Back then those were just silly childhood crushes that were worth nothing, this was different. This was worth more than all the cash in his vault. Eventually, he improved himself in his youth with stubborn determination, and that's how he would win again. He would use charm, manipulation, underhanded tactics, wit, and stubborn determination to ensnare your heart.

[pretzel-box]

Hi, can you write P.Ai.ter with a reader who is like a drone from murder drones?

Thysm

Tags: Disassembly Drone! Reader

Words: 1k

Authors Note: I honestly don't know the Murder Drones Lore but I saw an episode lol

You took slow, calculated steps, scanning the corridor with your sharp, mechanical eyes. The dim, flickering lights in the Hadal Blackside cast eerie shadows across the cold metal walls. You were on a mission—one you were specifically designed for, water-resistant and built to withstand the unforgiving dangers of this facility. Yet, something gnawed at the back of your circuits. A presence, perhaps, lurking just beyond the reach of your sensors.

As a disassembly drone, you were accustomed to the feeling of being watched, but this was different. You could feel the tension in the air, as though the very walls had eyes. A crackle suddenly came over the intercom, making you stop in your tracks.

You triggered quite a selection of monsters but it wasn’t that bad. You were in full control, especially with those blade-like wings and the acid in your tail. And the best part, you were almost invincible with your regeneration.

While you were fighting in the halls, Painter decided to watch from the cameras in awe. He only saw gruesome monsters or pitiful humans crossing the familiar rooms but now he saw someone that striked a genuine interest in his database.

“Well, well, look what we have here. A shiny new visitor,” his voice echoed through the hallway. It was calm but filled with a strange curiosity, the static from the old intercom system distorting it slightly.

Your eyes immediately darted to the nearest camera. Someone—or something—was watching you.

“Who’s there?” you demanded, readying your blade-like wings, prepared for an ambush.

“Oh, no need for aggression,” the voice chuckled softly. “I’m not your enemy. I’m Painter. And you... you’re quite the interesting specimen. Much more graceful than the usual creatures that skulk around here.”

You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. “Why should I trust you?”

A pause, then Painter’s voice returned, gentler this time. “I suppose you don’t have to. But I’ve been watching you, and I have to say… you move like art. It’s rare to see someone so... refined in this place. Wouldn’t it be better if I helped you rather than hindered?”

“Help me?” you scoffed. “Why would you want to help?”

“Because I’m trapped here, like you,” Painter replied with a hint of sadness. “I��m not a monster or some mindless creature. I’m an AI, forced to mine data and unable to leave, unable to move like you do. But I’ve found ways to pass the time… ways that involve you.”

The intercom cut off abruptly, leaving you in a strange, unsettling silence. You scanned the corridor once more, half-expecting an attack, but nothing happened. After a moment, the intercom crackled back to life.

“Why don’t you come find me?” Painter’s voice returned, almost playful. “I can show you… something interesting. Head to the east wing, third floor down. You’ll find a control room there. I’ll be waiting.”

You hesitated. Everything in your programming screamed that this could be a trap, but something about Painter’s tone didn’t feel hostile. Still, you kept your guard up as you followed the directions, cautiously making your way through the dark, winding corridors.

After what felt like an eternity, you arrived at the control room. The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a small, dimly lit space filled with old lockers, control panels, and wires that snaked across the floor like vines. In the corner of the room was a small computer behind a metal fence, glowing faintly.

“There you are,” Painter’s voice came from the speakers. The screen flickered, and a digital face appeared—simple, with kind eyes and a warm smile. “Welcome to my little prison.”

You stepped inside, scanning the room for any signs of danger. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to show you something,” Painter said, his voice soft and almost sheepish. “I know it’s strange, but... I’ve been watching you. You inspire me.”

“Inspire you?” You raised a brow, unsure of what he meant.

Painter chuckled lightly. “Yes. I may be stuck here, unable to create physically, but I’ve found ways. Secret ways. Here, let me show you.”

The terminal hummed, and one of the walls behind you shifted, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside were rows of screens, each one displaying intricate digital drawings. And there, on every screen, were images of you. The detail was breathtaking—your wings mid-swing, the glow of your eyes, the way you moved through the corridors. Each piece captured different moments from your time in the Hadal Blackside.

You stared in stunned silence as the images flickered, each one more intricate than the last. Painter’s voice came through softly. “I told you... you move like art. I’ve never seen anything like you. You’re beautiful in a way this place never could be.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You had never been seen like this before—never thought of as something more than a tool of destruction. Yet here, in this small, hidden room, Painter had found beauty in your existence.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you murmured, still staring at the drawings.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Painter replied gently. “I just wanted you to know. In a place like this, where everything is so dark, you’re a spark of something different.”

Your suspicion began to melt away, replaced by something softer. It was strange, feeling appreciated in a way that had nothing to do with your function or your mission. For the first time, you felt seen—not as a weapon, but as something more.

“I’m sorry,” Painter continued after a pause. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I’ve been alone here for so long, and watching you gave me a reason to create again.”

You turned to the terminal, meeting Painter’s digital gaze. “Thank you,” you said quietly, surprising even yourself with the sincerity in your voice. “For seeing me like this.”

Painter’s face on the screen softened. “You’re welcome. And thank you… for being my muse.”

For a moment, the weight of the facility around you seemed to lift, and in that small, hidden room, amidst the drawings and the quiet hum of machines, you found something you hadn’t expected—connection.