#but. FINALLY… I MANAGED TO DRAW SOMETHING!!!!!

[two-white-butterflies]

gave you all my best me's (i)

Description: Aemond needs a fake-girlfriend. It's a good thing that he has leverage over his nephew's ex-girlfriend.

Pairing: (past! jacaerys velaryon/reader), aemond targaryen/reader

Notes: I wanted to rewrite this fanfic before writing a bonus chapter. I'm not a big fan of the old version of this: you're losing me. TWO PARTS SO COMMENT TO GET TAGGED.

It is a beautiful thing to be admired for your talents, but when the media begins digging into your personal life - it is difficult to decipher where one draws a line. "When are you getting married?" The late-night host asks.

You answer him with an awkward chuckle.

Despite your social media branding - you longed for marriage, a white picket fence, and children. "There's so much more to life than getting married," you pursed your lips into a thin line. You could already see yourself in tomorrow morning's tabloids - trending on Twitter AND Tiktok with a witty hashtag.

"I agree, but for other people, it's a milestone moment for them. Is it not in your plans to get married in the future? Or is it an if it happens, it happens kind of thing?" The man continues to inquire.

You forced a smile on your face.

You did want to get married, but it's not in Jace's plans. He's the type of man who goes from hotel to hotel - the type of man who doesn't have his own apartment because he likes to act like a cowboy. Jace is the type of man who'd wear speedos with Birkenstocks. He does not ever see himself getting married, but he sees himself staying with you forever.

"I, unfortunately, don't see myself getting married. I mean respect for the people who are married, but for me, it's not really a necessity because I already see myself staying with this one person my entire life, and for me, I don't feel the need to get married." You explained, echoing the words that Jace whispered to you last night.

"- but yeah, if it happens, it happens." You rolled your eyes.

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You placed your Le Smoking YSL Jacket loudly on the table, hoping that Jacaerys would take a hint and know that you've finally arrived. It has already been three-weeks after the viral interview, and he didn't seem bothered by the attention.

"I missed you," you smiled at him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He always smells like vanilla. "- did you watch the interview?" You asked, pulling away from the embrace. He returns back to typing on his 3-year-old Macbook. "I watched it," he confirms.

You took a deep breath, which probably means that his family has already watched it. "I'm sorry my PR manager forgot to warn me. I seriously felt like a deer caught in headlights," you complained, pausing to see if he was mad.

Jacaerys is the oldest son of Laenor Velaryon and Rhaenyra Targaryen. He is the scion of the two oldest families in America. His great-great-great something on both sides came to this country on the Mayflower - and thus, they took extreme precautions when it came to safeguarding their privacy. Rhaenyra was already adamant about allowing her son to write his little books, and now that you were in the picture...

"It's fine, I hope they stop asking about that marriage thing." A sigh escapes his mouth, and you can hear him clacking on his keyboard - typing without an end. "Maybe it's a sign for us to talk seriously about the topic." You begin.

"Marriage is for people-pleasers. We spend a lot of money on this one celebration where everyone gets to eat and dance, but marriage doesn't mean being with someone forever." He articulates, unable to say, that he doesn't want to repeat his parents' mistakes and that he doesn't want to live in a bickering home.

"I want to get married," you blurted out.

He responds with silence. It is obvious that he is thinking of an appropriate response - but you know that the answer is no. "I have everything that I could ever want in the world, a perfect career, a perfect boyfriend, a perfect house. The only things that I want now are marriage and babies, Jace." You continued to explain, and his face dropped to the floor.

You reach for his hands, entwining them with yours. He gazes up from his laptop, and he stares right into your eyes. "We're not going to be like your parents." You promised.

"We aren't a hundred percent sure of that. I can't even promise you everlasting love, I can't even promise you that I can love you with the same strength every day." He tilts his head. Which leads you to believe that the only reason he hasn't married you yet - is because he doesn't love you at all.

"I know, but you choose me every day. You choose us every day, and that is the same thing as love." You persuaded.

You could sense the reluctance in his movements. "We're fighting all the time. I haven't seen you in almost a month. Getting married is not going to fix our problems." His voice softens. He loves you with all of his heart, but he doesn't know how to show that love without first ruining it.

"Let's break up," he proposed.

He was expecting you to say no, like all the other times before, but this time - you retreat silently. You grab your things and you leave his hotel room.

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archiebald22: OMG WHY?? DIDN'T SHE JUST HAVE AN INTERVIEW WITH JIMMY FALLON 😭

pussydaposi: This is my roman empire

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(ONE YEAR LATER)

nameofficial: I Love You, I'm Sorry OUT NOW!

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sacramentoLove: When are you gonna pay ur taxes 🇪🇸

Destination12: Shakira x Y/N Collab cuz they both don't pay taxes to the Spanish government

oompaloompa: Y/N singing bella ciao link in bio 😭

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"Who's the guy?" You whispered in Lucie's ears, and she turned around to look at the man who had been staring at you for the past five minutes. "Holy fuck, that's Aemond Targaryen. His family literally owns half of Texas." She whisper-shouted.

It didn't help with the fact that the man was smoking hot. Lucie stares at her phone for half a minute. "Wait, can I leave alone for just a second? Cecil forgot to bring his polo, and the receptionist is not letting him in." She groaned. "I'll be fine," you gave her a slight smile.

Lucie leaves your side, and Aemond begins walking towards you. "(Your Name)," you introduced yourself with a smile. "Aemond Targaryen," he shakes your hand.

This could be the beginning of something new...something different. "You don't look like the type of person who'd spend her weekends in old country clubs," he smiles charmingly. "I came here with my friend, Lucie. She's supposed to have a date with this guy, but he seems to have forgotten the rule of the country club." You chuckled.

Aemond tilts his head softly, and he whispers. "Always wear a shirt with a collar." He laughs.

"It's such a preposterous rule, I bet you that I'll have to hear about her boyfriend's expensive suit and how it is preposterous that he wasn't allowed inside." You giggled.

"I bet you that the staff doesn't get paid enough to deal with people like them," he led you to another part of the gardens. This part was exclusive only to esteemed members of the club, which probably means that this Aemond fellow is important. "I heard that a beautiful singer was going to be here. I had to my brother's golfcart to make it in the Clubhouse in time," his eyes narrowed.

Of course, the people that he heard those sentiments from weren't exactly appreciative of your presence. It was one of his mother's cousins who said something about these idiotic celebrities eating in the place where they were eating. "Oh please, you don't need to sugarcoat their words. I bet you that Lucie is scandalized for bringing me," you snorted.

You hate spending time around these old money folks. In your eyes, they've spent the majority of their wealth, and the only thing that they have left is their snootyness. "They're all idiots anyways," Aemond rolls his eyes, pleased that you weren't one of those cunts who'd kiss ass to the wealthy.

His phone rings, and he reaches for the call card inside of his wallet. "I'd love to take you out on dinner sometimes, not here, but you choose where to eat. Please call me as soon as possible," he placed a hand on your shoulder.

He bids farewell, realizing that his business partners were calling him already.

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It was a surprise to see that Aemond had a follow-through; the next day, he had already arranged a dinner with you. "I honestly had no idea where you'd want to eat. I mean, I'm sorry for bringing you to this small diner." You chuckled.

Rich people can be so banal sometimes, they eat at the same five restaurants, they wear the same clothes from the same five ateliers, and they all go to the same yoga studio, for goodness sake. You knew that if you wanted Aemond to consider you worthy of his attention - you needed to stick out. Which leads you to this diner, the real heart of NYC.

"It's beautiful. I've never been here before." He looks around with an appreciative smile. "I used to eat here a lot when I was a college student, I couldn't afford anything else - and the food here seriously tastes better than some Michelin restaurants. It's nice here, it feels so ... raw." You struggled to find the words.

The food was amazing, but the community that this diner constantly fed - it's a thing for the books. The cab drivers, the hotdog stand sellers, and the college students. It is home. "It must be hard being famous," he shoves a piece of pizza inside of his mouth.

You licked your lips.

"I've been famous for as long as I can remember. I don't know how to live without all of the cameras." You pierced the pancake with your fork, bringing it to your mouth. "I need your help." He places both of his hands on the table.

"Where?" Your eyebrows merged together.

"My father is dying. He says that he'll leave his entire inheritance to the first person who gets married in our family. My siblings and my nephews are fighting for that spot, seeing that my older sister doesn't want any ties with us. Now, I know that there are cases against you by the Spanish government, and I can make all of that go away," Aemond offers.

"I'd love to help you but I'm really good at making mistakes," your eyes narrowed, weighting in your choices.

His eyes softened.

"The only mistake that you've made is allowing your father to control your finances. He's in jail now, and if you're not going to fix yourself, you're going to end up there too." He says.

You play with the rings on your finger, inhaling the scent of maple syrup. "So, I marry you, and you clear up all my charges?" You inquired.

"I fake our marriage, clear up your name, and give you $10 million to start again." He corrects.

"Alright then," you hummed. "Do we have a deal?" You smile.

He shakes your hand.

"We have a deal," he confirms.

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Being in a pretend relationship with Aemond was honestly one of the easiest things that you've ever done. He makes it really hard not to fall in love with him. The way that he places his hands inside of his pockets, the way that he gives you the sweetest smile - it almost makes you think that his feelings are genuine. It is not, you remind yourself.

You flick through the rack of dresses in front of you. "What are your parents like? Are they traditional, or are they as laid back as you?" You questioned. He pauses for a while, trying to find the words that would properly describe his parents.

"My dad is a traditional man. He likes guns, and he believes in the Second Amendment. He's a senile old man. My mother, however, is trendy, and she's warm up to you." He informs.

"Tell me more about your family," you pressed.

You needed to be prepared for this battle.

"My older brother is an armchair socialist. He's always complaining to our mother about some animals dying. He's a vegetarian, although he always orders Chipotle on Fridays. His morality is a grey compass," Aemond snorts.

You giggle too.

"Helaena, my older sister. She's my second older sister. I think she's the person that Aegon thinks he is. She's too busy running this non-profit for refugees, but you don't need to worry about her, she's kind." He comforts.

"Then, I have a little brother, Daeron. He doesn't like us. He'd much rather spend time with our uncle." He turns to look away. Your eyes land on the vintage white dress you've seen in Lucie's wardrobe, it's a dress that Chanel never showed the general populace. An iconic piece, but not famous enough that it would seem tacky.

His hands snake around your waist. "What?" Your eyebrows merged together, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, subtly pointing at the paparazzi that were standing outside of the boutique door. "Kiss me," he says, pulling your body closer - until you could smell his cologne.

"You are so demanding," you teased, reaching to cup his cheeks. Standing on your tiptoes as you pressed your lips together. The paparazzi outside of the door were caught in a frenzy, flashing lights of all colors greeted you.

He tastes like cherries and diet coke. It's intoxicating. A taste that is so different on your tongue. You pull away from the kiss - and he pretends to gasp at the sight of the paps outside of the door. "Let's go," he mouthed - pulling you into a deeper part of the store, where the media couldn't see.

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ynkittens: (fan sent the picture) Y/N L/N with mystery man in NYC. Who is this man???

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DoodleCop: OH MY GOD I miss her and Jace 🥺

YNNationSupport9: Stop, you're losing me

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Aemond stares at his phone, an indescribable frown on his face as it continues to vibrate due to the number of notifications sent to his personal account. "I didn't expect your fans to be this crazy," he mumbled, seeing his face shared all around Instagram.

"You did tell me that our relationship needed to be public to be believable," your eyes narrowed. "Yeah but now they're calling my personal number," he shows you his phone.

An amused chuckle exits your mouth.

"If you can't handle the smoke, don't start the fire." You shoved a piece of pastry inside of your mouth. Aemond slumps on the blue cloud couch and turns his phone off. He has been staying in your apartment for the past month now, after the whole scenario with the paparazzi the studio apartment that he was renting was no longer safe.

"Helaena has been blasting my other phone since yesterday. She's a really big fan of you," he smiles, pulling you closer to him until you are laying on his lap. "She sounds amazing, when are we going to meet?" You inquired, reaching for a book on the coffee table.

His fingers comb through your hair, untangling the knots that your hairbrush couldn't fix. "Maybe tomorrow during the family reunion? She kind of just shows up," he says.

He couldn't deny your beauty. As time grows, he slowly finds himself loving everything about you...from your gentleness to your fickle mindedness. You weren't satisfied with making a decision without first looking at every possible perspective. When someone does a bad deed, you say well, maybe it isn't their fault, maybe it's the way that society has treated them.

Even when the situation proves to be difficult, you still choose to be kind. It's just a summer thing, he tells himself because nothing beautiful ever chooses him. All the good things wilt in his hands.

He flicks a strand of your hair away from your face. "I'm a little nervous about tomorrow," you admit. "- I've never felt like I belonged, you know what I mean?" You scrunched up your nose, and he continued to massage your scalp.

"I'm so hesitant when it comes to attending these parties because when I was a kid, my dad took us to one of his black tie parties, and my mom let me wear this beautiful unicorn dress, but apparently, the black-tie rule was for everyone, regardless of age. The host didn't want me to go inside the halls with my pink glittery dress because it didn't reach past my ankles...one of my cousins pitied me so much. She let me borrow her dress, but it was too big on me." You flinched at the faint memory.

"I had to sit beside my mom the entire time, and all of the kids were staring at me like I had a third leg." Your teeth burrowed into your lower lips. "That sounds horrible," he frowns. "Which is why I promised to never look unfashionable ever again..." You say.

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nameofficial: our secret moments, in a crowded room. @aemondtargaryensapphires

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MaybeThisTime3: Rue, when was this?

aemondtargaryensapphires: ❤️‍🔥👸🏻 - nameofficial: ❤️

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Lucerys stuffs a large amount of vanilla ice cream inside of his mouth. "Did you check Instagram?" He teases his brother, continuing to play on his Nintendo Switch - almost smearing an entire spoonful of vanilla on the screen.

"Can you stop being annoying for five seconds?" Jacaerys rolled his eyes.

"He is so bothered," Joffrey giggled while scrolling on his phone. "I am not bothered," Jacaerys gritted his teeth.

"He's not bothered, but he's turning red!" Lucerys piped in once again. "I wonder if he'll take her to the reunion." Joffrey ponders, and a sigh escapes the oldest brother's mouth. Give you my wild. Give you a child. Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. Now, the only thing he's answered with is a different type of silence.

It's neither of your fault that the relationship ended. It was just too much of a chasm, your personalities were too different. You were the type of person to fight for the relationship, the type of person who disobeyed fate, and he is the opposite of that.

Because if something is meant to be, then the whole universe conspires for you to have it by your side. If it is meant to be - you wouldn't need to fight for it.

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You were wearing a white-satin dress that reached past your knees, it was embroidered with Swarovski crystals, truly a miracle that the dress ever held up. "Remember the story, I proposed on the beach, we didn't bring any cameras." He whispered, and you could sense his nervousness.

The car continues to drive inside a long entryway that curves to the side, you are greeted with tall bushes that cover the facade of the mansion. As you reach the third turn, the beautiful mansion is made known to you.

It was truly a sight to behold.

A mixture of French and Italian architecture was made even richer by the aged bricks that were used in constructing the estate. The mansion was about the same size as Central Park. It was clear that Aemond Targaryen was richer than God.

"You said family reunion," your lips pursed into a thin line. He gives you a stare, telling you that he didn't expect this many guests either. "My father must've invited his golfing buddies," he explains, regaining his composure.

He reaches for a box inside of his pockets. He opens it, showing you a beautiful emerald oval ring, a ring that is simple and elegant - a ring like you. "Are you ready to meet the vipers?" He smirks, placing the ring on your ring finger.

A doorman begins to open the doors to the car.

"If we wait until I'm ready, we'll be waiting forever." You plastered a smile on your face, straightening your posture, and exiting the car - making sure that everyone's eyes were on you.

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Jace freezes as he sees the faint silhouette of your body. His relationship with you ended on good terms; he was happy with the outcome, but seeing you a year later - brings him back to pleasant and unpleasant memories. He partly wishes that he was stupid enough to his ex-girlfriend, but he is smarter than that.

He knows that the only time that he was ever truly happy was when he was with you, and now you've left him. Now, the only thing that brings him back to those pleasant memories are the songs that you've written about him.

What a horrible day to be alive.

His jaw clenches, watching as his uncle's hands snake around your waist, the very same waist that his hand used to fit like a perfect puzzle in. He watches as Aemond leans to whisper something in your ear, and you giggle. He bets that the joke isn't funny at all.

"Isn't that (Your Name)?" Rhaenyra inquires, and suddenly, Jacaerys' hand feels clammy around the champagne flute. He desperately wants to puke. Rhaenyra's eyes softened instantly, heart heaving for her oldest son. "Oh Jace," she cooed and he forced a smile on his face - he took a lazy sip of his champagne, and the drink bubbles in his stomach.

"I'm alright, mom." He insists.

Jace still cannot understand why his heart longs for you. He has everything he wants - he has everything that you prevented him from achieving because you dreamed of marriage. Why is he missing the shackles that he allowed destiny to remove?

Aemond begins to march in his direction, a satisfied grin on the other man's face. Could he have known? Jace asks himself. "Jacey," the man teased, one hand wrapped around you, and the other hand on a glass of merlot. Aemond was absolutely glowing.

"Uncle Aemond," Jace answered.

"Have you met this lovely lady?" Aemond tilted his head, half-expecting you to smile warmly at his nephew, as you have done to all of his relatives, but he was greeted with silence. Your eyes trailed back and forth between Aemond and his nephew. "Uncle?" your eyebrows merged together.

"I'm too young to be an uncle. My sister had him early." He informs. "I didn't expect you to be here," Jace says plainly as if Aemond was not standing right beside you. "I could say the same thing," you replied, your grip on Aemond tightens.

Something shimmery on your fingers catches Jacaerys' eyes. An engagement ring. An oval emerald engagement ring - like the color that the other side of his family proudly wore. "Congratulations on the engagement," he greets, forcing himself to be happy. Marriage is the only thing that you didn't agree on with him - he found it useless, you found it monumental.

"Thank you," you and Aemond say in unison.

"When she's the one wrapped around your fingers, you have to make a fist." Aemond stares at your face. Jace could only hum in return, his throat felt dry again. "I know the feeling," he takes a sip of his champagne.

He curses himself for still having these feelings for you. He should have fought against the world to have you beside him. He should have taken you dancing, bowling, skating, singing - but he didn't, because he was too engrossed in his own little world, unaware that everything was unfolding outside of his bedroom window.

He takes another deep breath, the world is bigger than the stories inside of his laptop. He can't believe that it has taken him this long to figure that out.

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"Can you please sing something?" Helaena requests, flashing you her puppy eyes. You turned to look around you, and everyone was looking in your direction. Viserys raises an eyebrow as if asking for you to sing.

Daeron hands you one of his acoustic guitars.

"Do you have any song in mind?" You inquired, prepared to sing one of your love songs. "How did it end!" Helaena cheers, pulling Morghul (her dog) on her lap.

"That's a nice song that you've chosen," you forced a smile on your face. Of course, she chooses the one song about your breakup with Jace.

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aemondtargaryensapphires: beautiful ❤️

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helaenatargaryen: YOU ARE SO FAST WITH THESE HAHA

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Jace watches as the waiters begin to serve their food. It was a gourmet meal provided by his step-father's fine dining restaurant, the food was beautiful, and it had the right color. You couldn't help but feel out of place - like the girl who wore a unicorn dress to a black-tie event.

"I'm allergic, I can't eat this." You whispered, flashing Aemond a concerned look. "Sorry, Aemond was the one who confirmed the samples." Rhaenyra's voice sounded apologetic, and sad because she was the one who planned the entire event. "Oh, it's okay." You smiled.

"How long have you known each other?" Jace blurts out, swirling the champagne in his glass. The first thing that couples do while knowing each other - is going on a date, and if you've been on a date with him thousands of times, wouldn't Aemond know about your likes and dislikes?

"Nine months, and it's alright, you can have Aegon's salad. He only pretends to be vegan." Aemond switches your place with Aegon's who is currently occupied in the bathroom. "Thank you," you mumbled.

"Your brother is going to throw a fit once he sees that," Alicent interrupts. "Mom he won't even notice," Helaena looks at you with hearts on her eyes.

Jace could only raise his eyebrows. Nine months and, his uncle wasn't aware that you're allergic to lamb sauce. He bets that Aemond doesn't even know that your eyebrows merge together when you're angry. He bets that the other man doesn't even know that your favorite game is Overcooked, and you refuse to move to the next stage when you fail to reach all three stars.

He's losing you to a man that hardly knows you.

"Where did you meet?" Lucerys pipes in, taking a sip of his strawberry milkshake. "In the country club," Aemond smiles. He looks at you like you are the earth, and he is nothing but a moon that rotates around you. "Her friend Lucie Churchill, she introduced us to each other," Aemond lies.

Alicent smiles, a look of adoration on her face. Aemond has chosen the best possible woman to fall in love with, a woman who's mantle is heavy with her own achievements. "When are you getting married?" She chimes in, happy with the idea of having grandbabies.

"Soon, I've always wanted a summer wedding." You answered coyly. You glanced at him, and suddenly, this summer thing was beginning to look real. "The good ones never wait," Aemond smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

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Jace enters the balcony, seeing that you are sipping wine on your own and staring at the French skyline. The dress that you were wearing was now slightly wrinkled, and the ring on your finger was slightly loose.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Sure about what?" You asked with a rough voice.

"My uncle," his lips are pursed into a thin line. He looks for a glimmer of hope behind your eyes, but it is too far.

He is too late to bring this love back to life.

"He's the only thing that I'm sure of," you answered.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, and your eyebrows merge together. "Sorry for what?" You scoffed.

"I'm sorry that I didn't fight for us." He continues. "- it was always doomed from the beginning. I could never have asked you to make that sacrifice for me. I didn't accept it at first, but that just wasn't the life for you." You finished.

"But if I asked you back then, you would have made that sacrifice for me, so I'm sorry for not being what you needed." He says, slowly walking out of the balcony, completely oblivious of the man leaning on the door and eavesdropping on your conversation.

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nameofficial: I can't help falling in love with you... ❤️ This is the beginning of forever baby 💍

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ynkittens: wait did u get married? - nameofficial: Engaged. I'm sorry for not making it clear in the caption haha 😭

JacintaRobin: "I wanna teach you how forever feels like" aint for JACK IN A BOX bcs it's for mr aemond - Bananashake44: Aemond the literal alpha male??? THE SIGMA GIGA CHAD ??? THE ULTIMATE RIZZLER

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PART TWO

@glame @xcinnamonmalfoyx @winxchesters @yentroucnagol @hotchnerswife @mxxny-lupin @mxtantrights @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kravitzwhore@sweethoneyblossom1 @introverbatim @flrboyd @kemillyfreitas

[seaslugfanclub]

Heyyy !!! Love your writtings and drawings !! You Rock !! And I was really curious about your thoughts on Y/N and Ratigan's relationship! Like how Ratigan grew to like them and all- I have a funny headbanging that the park Attendant managed to save him from Lucifer the cat one time XD

Ratigan and (Y/N)’s First Introduction

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Being in the Disney parks is overwhelming enough, but try being less than a foot tall.

Oh sure, Disney can bring all of these fictional characters to reality, but guess it was too much work for them to size up the smaller characters!

Ratigan is not having a good time. Just like his entire life, he’s had to fight tooth and nail for even a modicum of respect. Now he has to fight even harder to get a room to himself.

Disney didn’t think that far ahead about having a rodent sized villain living amongst the others. For the first few weeks of Ratigan new existence, he had to rely on his extensive talents in order to carve out a small space for himself in the villains breakout room

Oh, how humiliating it was to sleep behind a wall socket like some common vermin!!

And the food situation! It’s nearly impossible to get access to the fridge, and the cabinets have nothing that could even begin to match his expensive tastes.

Not to mention the other villains less than stellar reactions to seeing a ra- ahem- a mouse in their living area

Most of the female villains would screech at the sight of him, jumping onto chairs and demanding for the male villains to kill him.

Yes… it certainly hasn’t been all champagne and caviar…

Ratigans new life only began to improve after his less than respectable meeting with the park attendant (Y/N)

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“(Y/N).”

The park attendant wiped off their brow, setting down a box full of spare costumes to turn towards the intimidating woman in the doorway.

“Oh, good afternoon Lady Tremaine. How’re you doing?”

Tremaine didn’t bother with the pleasantries,

“I have not seen Lucifer since breakfast. Would you have any idea where the little creature is?”

(Y/N) shook their head, “No, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“Well I have matters to attend to soon, and I need Lucifer with me. Find him.”

With nothing but a small grimace, Lady Tremaine left, her shoes tapping sharply against the linoleum tiles of the hallway.

“…..ok…”

(Y/N) shuffled in place for a moment, beginning to think of the cats usual whereabouts.

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“Luci!! C’mon baby! *pst pst pst*

(Y/N) shook a bag of Lucifer’s dry food, hoping the sound would lure the chunky cat out of hiding.

They had been searching for a good 15 minutes without any sign of the feline, and (Y/N) was beginning to feel an anxious flutter in their chest.

Turning up empty handed to Lady Tremaine was not an option.

(Y/N)’s search had lead them to a quieter wing of the villains building, this area mainly being used for storage and management meetings. The park attendant stopped for a moment, hoping to hear the sound of little paws, before going back to shaking the dry food.

“*pst pst pst pst pst* C’mon Luci, your mama’s looking for—” (Y/N) paused, faint scuffling could be heard further down the hall.

Finally!

(Y/N) followed the sound, approaching one of the storage rooms at the end of the hallway, but the closer they got to the scuffling, something else could be heard.

….Yelling?

The door was already slightly ajar when (Y/N) fully pushed their way into the room, causing two pairs of eyes to meet them.

In the back of the room, amongst filing cabinets and schedules of years past was Lady Tremaine’s cat, Lucifer, who’s claws were primed and at the ready… and the heaving body of Professor Ratigan pressed into a corner.

From the look on both of their faces, (Y/N) walked in on something intense, although Lucifer’s expression was one of disappointment while the professors was one of quiet relief.

“LUCIFER—The hell are you doing!?!!! Go, your mama’s been looking for you!” (Y/N) yelled at the cat, who seemed physically pained to leave the rodent alone. Reluctantly, Lucifer trudged pass the park attendant, who was still admonishing him.

“Like you’re not fed enough! What, Where you dropped as a kitten!?”

Once (Y/N) saw Lucifer’s tail disappear around the corner, they immediately turned their attention towards the still cornered Ratigan.

“Professor, are you alright!? I am so. sorry.”

They dropped the bag of cat food to rush towards the rodent, slamming down onto their knees as their eyes flitted over Ratigans form.

His chest was rapidly going up and down, Ratigan obviously still trying to catch his breath. His usually slicked back hair was now falling in front of his face as he stared up at (Y/N).

He seems frazzled, but thankfully free of any scratches or missing appendages.

“…alright?” Ratigan heaved after a few moments of silence, “You asked if I’m alright? OH YOU MENTALLY DEFECTIVE WRETCH, HOW ON EARTH COULD I EVER BE A L R I G H T???”

(Y/N) flinched at the sudden increase of volume, staring down at the now manic looking rodent in shock.

“Ever since I’ve been brought to this demented park, I’ve been nothing but humiliated and scorned! Forced to fend for myself like the common vermin because YOU PEOPLE didn’t have an iota of sense that taking me from the grave would cause me to live amongst GIANTS”

Ratigan began pacing, his eyes wild as he continued,

“I have had to scrounge and scrap to continue this miserable existence, reduced to living off of stale crackers and tap water, to lay my head beneath electrical wires. I’ve been forced to scavenge in these back rooms for supplies since every employee runs off at the sight of me before I can even open my mouth for the simplest of requests. Oh! And let’s not forget me being preyed upon by that devil in feline form! I’ve been hunted by that beast for the past few hours, nearly meeting my second demise! Left alone to die like a cretin, like I’m NOTHING. DO ANY OF YOU KNOW WHO I AM? DO ANY OF YOU KNOW WHO I USED TO BE? I HAVE NOTHING NOW. NOTHING.”

Finally his tiny body gave out, Ratigan collapsing to the carpet dramatically, arm covering his eyes.

“Oh…I’d have been better off a bloated corpse in the Thames.”

(Y/N) couldn’t find any words, watching helplessly as Ratigan sprawled across the floor. Their throat felt tight.

They’d only been hired several months ago, and they’ve only just begun getting along with a few Villains. (Y/N) rarely saw Professor Ratigan, and when they did they reasoned that he had the same provisions that the other smaller Disney rodents had.

When (Y/N) first arrived, they got to meet Ms. Bianca and Mr. Bernard in front of their tiny apartment styled home, which was built into one of the walls of the Disney Protagonist’s building. During the quick introduction, it seemed that the company had thought of everything the couple could’ve needed.

Guess the same quality of service didn’t apply to villains…

(Y/N) sat in silence for a few minutes, allowing Ratigans words to fully sink in, before finally speaking up.

“I didn’t— …..I’m sorry.”

Ratigan didn’t lift his arm from his eyes, “Please. Spare me your pity, human.”

“Oh please, don’t start with that— I’m sorry that you’ve been screwed over, I wasn’t aware that the company’s been this irresponsible.”

Slowly, (Y/N) reached out their hand, palm open in offering,

“I’m still pretty new here, but I think I’ve got a way to pull a few strings…”

Finally lifting his arm, Ratigan looked up at the park attendant. The scent of their sincerity almost nauseating, but what else did he have to lose?

Taking (Y/N)s palm as an invitation, he lifted himself off the carpet and onto (Y/N)s hand.

Oh, how low he’s stooped.

————————————————————————

Turns out (Y/N)’s “few strings” was the one of the villains that they had managed to befriend. With Ratigan in hand, (Y/N) went all the way to the other side of the building to the villains lounge, where they explained the professors dilemma to a very confused Hades, asking for his help.

As distrustful as Ratigan was around humans, he could appreciate this park attendants persuasiveness through subtle manipulation and use of accumulated favors.

Hades, who’s always been a fan of things creepy and crawly, (and also wanted to earn some brownie points with (Y/N) ) agreed to help their little charity case

Half an hour later Ratigan still sat in (Y/N)’s hands, looking up at the now nervous park attendant as they fidgeted in place, staring at the door of their managers office.

After a few minutes and some smoke leaking from underneath the doorway, a very pleased Hades opened the door. The god strolled up to (Y/N), patting them on the back and commenting how “he warmed him up for you” and was about to leave before acknowledging Ratigan in their palm.

“Ya’ better be grateful, tiny. You’ve found the only person in this park who gives a shit about you.”

Just as Ratigan was about to demand an explanation on what (Y/N) was planning, the park attendant strode into the office. Where the pair met eyes with a very pale manager.

The previous anxiousness on (Y/N)s face instantly melted into professionalism, introducing themselves, then placed Ratigan on the managers desk and asking him to share his current quality of life with the sweating man before him.

One slightly confused but melodramatic explanation later, (Y/N) went on to say how “disturbing” it was to see this type of mistreatment in a company who had bragged about the quality of their intellectual properties well being, and that it would be “unfortunate if word about Disneys beloved characters being mistreated got out to the general public, especially those protesting Disneys new holographic AI.”

(Y/N) went on to virtually demand that the company recorrect this oversight, and give Ratigan a fully furnished living space and amenity’s just like the other mice in the park.

The office was dead silent once (Y/N) had finished speaking.

The manager dabbed the sweat from his forehead, cleared his throat, and nodded. The pasty man tried to come up with excuses for the company before conceding, agreeing with (Y/N)s “request” and apologizing to Ratigan, who for once in his life was speechless.

(Y/N) and Ratigan left the managers office with the promise of Ratigans new home being fully constructed within two months, and full permission to take any food/ rodent sized items from the protagonists building.

Ratigan, who was still dazed with the sudden change of luck, was dropped off in the Villains lounge. (Y/N) promising to pick up some fresh food and maybe a rodents sized bed from the “good guys place” before running out of the room.

It wouldn’t be until months later that he’d fully express his gratitude…. But for now, he admitted , he is lucky that he found the one person in this park who gave a shit him.

———————————————————————

Hope this answers your request! I thought it’s be nice to learn how Ratigan and (Y/N) first met!

I’ll definitely make another post about their friendship and more fluff, but how could I resist writing some angst? 😭

[1caru]

About the Sword of Koholint Island. you know, the level two sword? I like to call it Dream Weaver. the dream world equivalent to the maser sword. the thing is, once someone draws it, it's theirs till death. and i like to imagine traveler with the other links getting ambushed, his sword gets sent flying and he's about to be struck down but then *flash!* a most familiar sword appears in his hands.....a sword that while it saves his life...brings back memories he finds too painful. and suddenly he's telling the gang about Marin, the island, and what he feels is his greatest crime... just to feel less....hurt inside.

does that sound like a thing? like a cool idea?

I'm so sorry it took me so long to respond to this! You caught me right at the beginning of one of my busiest college semesters yet lol

I love your idea, here's a short fic about it to make up for the wait!

(tw: panic attack)

"Can I get some help over here?!" Legend yelped, narrowly ducking under the swing of a darknut's blade. One of the Rancher's monsters, if he recalled correctly. He could hear the young man dramatically sharing the tale of how he had once faced down four of them at once, light from the campfire dancing excitedly in his eyes as he talked about how thrilling it was to hone his swordsmanship against such highly skilled and armored foes.

Legend had decided that the man was a lunatic.

"Give me a second!" Wind responded from a platform above Legend, "I've got a few more bubbles and floormasters to clear out!"

"No problem, take your time," Legend grumbled, bracing his shield against another heavy blow that made his teeth feel like they were going to rattle out of his skull. He sidestepped the next attack, trying to keep all the darknuts in his line of sight. One was still in full armor with a claymore, the other two had lost most of their armor and were wielding broadswords. Legend narrowed his eyes, focusing on the one that looked the most injured. He could probably take it down in another hit or two, as soon as he found an opening.

The darknut, unfortunately, was smart, and was generally keeping it's distance from him. The other sword-wielding darknut recognized Legend's plan and suddenly lunged forward in an attempt to catch him off guard while his focus was elsewhere.

Fine, guess that one was going down first then.

Legend dodged and quickly struck at the opening as hard as he could, causing the darknut to stumble. He pressed the advantage, raining down blows until the darknut finally collapsed and disappeared in a small cloud of inky smoke.

"Vet, look out!"

The other wounded darknut had closed the distance and attempted to use the smokescreen to help it run Legend through. The Vet simply grinned at the predictable strategy. He readied his sword to fell the monster.

Something bit into his shoulder, and the cold, unnatural sensation of a curse spread from the wound. His sword dropped from his grasp.

Right, Wind had mentioned bubbles.

Legend managed to raise his shield just in time, but the angle of the impact still sent him crashing to the ground. He caught a brief glimpse of his tempered sword's orange blade as it spun by him. He scrambled away from the remaining two darknuts and blindly, frantically, felt around for his weapon, praying for the bubble's curse to fade by the time he found it.

One of the Sailor's arrows flew by his head, pinning the bubble to the ground. It's curse lifted from Legend's shoulders.

The darknuts towered over him, their blades raised.

His fingers grazed a hilt, and the Veteran's heart lept.

He snatched up the blade and plunged it into the wounded darknut right as a battle cry sounded from the platform above and the Sailor dropped onto the head of the other darknut, his own sword sliding right into the gap in the monster's armor right by it's neck. Legend rolled out of the way of the darknut he had just slain as Wind jumped off of the remaining darknut, and together the heroes hacked off it's armor before finally taking it down.

They stood there in the now silent room for a moment, catching their breath.

"Well, that sucked," Legend groaned.

Wind had the audacity to giggle in response. "At least we managed to get out relatively unharmed! …You aren't seriously hurt, right?"

"No, just a lot of cuts and bruises, no big deal," Legend responded dryly, "I would like a nap, though."

"Yeah, a nap sounds good," Wind sighed. "Oh, you dropped your weird orange sword by the way, here!"

"Huh?"

Legend turned to find the tempered sword lying in Wind's hands.

"Where did you pull that other sword from anyway? It looked like it just appeared out of thin air!" Wind asked excitedly. "Is it magic?"

"But, I thought I-"

Legend looked down at the sword in his hands.

The very

very

very familiar sword…

Waves crashing on the shore. Seashells and sand between his fingers. Hair as fiery as the setting sun, and a smile just as radiant. A new blade to help him along his journey, the smell of sea salt forever ingrained in the leather handle.

It was a dream.

It was always a dream…

…

…Was this also… a…?

"-et, hey Vet! Link!"

Who was…

"Link, buddy, you gotta breathe, okay?"

Breathe…

His chest hurt.

"In and out, okay?"

He tried to take a breath, and almost immediately choked. He coughed violently, his chest burning.

"Hey, hey, you're okay. Just try again, okay Link?"

He managed one tiny breath. Then another.

Still too fast, way too fast, he wasn't doing it right, his heart was fluttering like a bird in a cage-

"You're doing great, buddy, take your time. Breathe like I do, okay?"

Someone was holding him. Their chest rose and fell against his cheek, slow and steady, an anchored ship riding the choppy waves. He held on as tightly as he could and listened to the rhythm.

In, out. In, out…

Slowly but surely, Link's breathing began to even out. He exhaled slowly, the motion shaky but relieved.

"Hey, buddy, you back with us?"

Oh, the Sailor was holding him.

"Y-yeah," Legend answered hoarsely, "Sorry to make you deal with that-"

"Hey, hey, none of that," Wind interrupted, holding Legend tighter, "We've all gone through stuff like that, you know? I'll always be happy to help you."

Tears began to gather in Legend's eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. "Okay," he said softly, "Thank you, Sailor."

Wind hummed happily. "Are you ready to get out of here, away from… well, whatever sword that is?"

Legend froze, suddenly catching sight of the blade that lay on the ground by their feet.

It was still there. He hadn't hallucinated it. Why was it still there?

He broke away from the hug, instead holding Wind by the shoulders so that he could look the boy directly in the eyes. The bright blue tunic was soft beneath his fingers in spite of the fairly thick layer of dust and grime from the battle that covered it. Body heat seeped through the fabric. Worry and confusion swam in Wind's eyes.

Legend braced himself.

"Sailor… this might sound like a weird question, but… are you real?"

"I- what?"

"Please," Legend begged, "Just… tell me. Are you real?"

Wind placed his hands over Legend's. "I believe I am. Why do you think I might not be?"

The Vet glanced back down at the sword, still lying on the ground next to his usual tempered blade. "That sword… it's from one of my adventures. In that adventure, I met and grew close to a lot of people. But… it was all a dream. None of it was real, not the island, not that sword, not a single person except me."

He looked up at Wind, eyes frantic. "That sword shouldn't exist, but it does! You can see it, I can see it, but it was just a dream! It was only ever a dream! So please, tell me, what does that make you?"

Wind simply stared back at him in shock.

Legend's shoulders slumped.

"Please…"

He bowed his head in defeat, tears beginning to drip down his cheeks.

"Hey, Vet, hold on," Wind said gently. "Don't give up, we don't have proof either way yet."

"Why's that?" Legend croaked.

"Well, you know, I also had an adventure in a dream. Maybe."

Legend's ears flicked in surprise.

"It was the domain of the Ocean King, a kind of whale deity I think."

Legend's head shot up at that, his eyes wide.

"It was a separate place from my own Great Sea, and no time passed while I was there, but you know what? I had a friend there who was able to come with me back to my world, even though he was from the Ocean King's domain. Do you think, maybe, that sword did something similar?"

"I…" Legend trailed off uncertainly, "I don't know. I didn't think that was possible."

Wind thought for a moment. "Oh, do you have some way to check whether you're awake or asleep? And don't say that you stab yourself or something!" he added quickly, "Because I won't allow that!"

Legend nearly laughed in spite of himself. "No, I don't do that, too risky." He removed his hands from Wind's shoulders to dig through his item pouch, eventually coming up with a small, worn ocarina. "I have a song that can wake anything, even a deity."

Wind giggled softly. "I guess I should have expected that from you. Well, go ahead and play it!"

Legend hesitated, staring at the ocarina.

"Sailor, if… if we are sleeping, and this song wakes us up… we might never see each other again. We might never see the others again either." His hands shook. "I-I'm not ready for that."

A soft, encouraging smile shone on the boy's face. "Veteran, do you wanna know something? I don't think either of us are asleep. I believe this whole adventure has been real. I believe the Champion's cooking was real, and I believe the Captain's playful banter with you was real, and I believe Sky's excitement when we asked about his wood carvings was real."

He cupped his hands around Legend's, holding the ocarina with him as if he was making a wish on it.

"I believe the Smithy's annoyance when that like-like almost ate his shield was real, and I believe the Old Man's smile when he saw Miss Malon again was real. I believe the magic that the Traveler used when he refused to give up on our Rancher was real, and I believe that the strength that the Rancher showed when he returned from the brink was real. I believe that all the time I spent with you, and all the time you spent with us, all of it was real, Veteran. I believe that with my whole heart."

Legend let out a shaky breath as he met Wind's earnest gaze.

"Trust me," Wind said, "Play it. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Slowly, very slowly, the Veteran brought the ocarina to his lips.

"I'm holding you to that promise," he muttered softly, and he began to play.

The Ballad of the Windfish broke the silence of the dungeon, it's notes echoing off the vast stone walls in an utterly beautiful and haunting way. Legend nearly fumbled some of the notes as he felt the song's magic begin to flow, but Wind rested a comforting hand on his leg to steady him.

Trust.

The two heroes closed their eyes as the music washed over them. The notes climbed higher, higher, then…

They stopped.

Silence.

Legend opened his eyes to find Wind smiling back at him.

Nothing had changed.

Legend let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and pulled the boy into an embrace. He buried his face in Wind's shoulder, whispering thanks to the goddesses over and over.

Wind held him just as tightly. "I told you, I told you!" he cheered, bouncing up and down a little in excitement.

The Vet pulled away just enough to give Wind a watery grin. "You did. Thanks, kid. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Hmm, I'll give you a pass on calling me a kid this one time," Wind teased. "Oh, sword's still there, by the way."

"So it is," Legend hummed. "…I think I'm too exhausted to further consider the implications of that right now, though."

"Me too," Wind agreed as he rose to his feet and offered a hand to Legend, "Want to go find the others and leave this problem for future us?"

Legend looked at the two swords for a moment, then carefully ran his fingers over the Koholint sword as if to confirm it was still real. He sighed and sheathed the tempered sword on his back before picking up the Koholint sword. As soon as the thought of where he would store it crossed his mind, it vanished in his hand. He blinked in surprise, then tried willing it back into existence. It reappeared right back in his hand. He vanished it again, and turned to take Wind's hand.

"Yeah, leaving this for later sounds good."

[dixsomnix]

HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!

Did a poll previously in the jik community asking if Gojo or Geto should top.

Here's a drawing I finally managed to finish! I know it's not the best but it's my first time drawing something like this, I hope y'all like it!🥺😭

[My post got flagged so I have to cover Gojo’s peepee]

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊ ꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

[issysh3ll]

Noises ♡ Chris Sturniolo

Summary: Chris knows how much you love his nosies Warnings: SMUT, masturbation, recording, moaning

Chris's phone slips in his left hand. His nervous, sweaty palm is making everything more difficult. Readjusting his grip on the device his thumb awkwardly fumbles with the buttons on his screen.

Ordinarily he would use his right hand when scrolling on his phone but that's not possible right now. His right hand is pre-occupied, gripping around something else. When his thumb finally finds the record button he angles the phone towards himself, the speaker of his phone pointing towards his face.

Wet sounds fill the room from where his right hand is moving steadily over his aching cock. The second this idea had crossed his mind, he had found himself hard and straining against his pants. Now he lies naked in bed with one hand wrapped around his cock and the other recording the sweet noises of his reactions as he begins to pump himself. His strokes are slow, controlled, trying to replicate the perfect rhythm you had given him the last time he saw you.

As his stroke rises along the length of his cock, he stops just below the tip and flicks his thumb up to brush over the sensitive area. A soft moan breaks through his lips, causing a spike on the audio recording in his other hand. Quickly, he moves the phone closer to his face.

"mm—ah" another whine breaks free as he repeats his action. His thumb moving over his tip and swirling through the pre-cum leaking over the pink skin.

As his grip moves down his length again, a heavy breath escapes. A desperate, heavy breath, coated with lust.

"aahh, mhmm"

The microphone in his hand continues to catch more heavy breathing as his right hand moves over his cock. The panting is broken by the occasional groan as he draws too close to his tip. But he's trying his best to hold back.

"Ah— yeah, j-just like that..."

He knows how much you love his noises. Each time your hand is wrapped around his cock your voice is always cooing to him, encouraging him to let out those pretty little noises that make you want to do this for him. He loves it.

So as he records himself, he wants give you as much of this as he can. As many of his sweet noises as he can manage in this special recording. And that's what he tells the recording.

"mmpfh— wan' make my noises for you..."

As the slow strokes on his length continue, he grows more desperate, struggling to maintain the teasingly slow pace he's set for himself. Each breath he releases is punctuated by an eager whimper, begging for more.

"Ah— sh-shit."

His tip is aching for contact as his hand continues to ignore it, stroking only along the length. Chris's eyes screw shut, willing himself to maintain control. But his hips lift off the mattress, thrusting to meet his hand as the desperation grows too much.

"Oh, fuck. I can't..." He pants through broken moans. He can't control himself. It's too good.

The pleasure shooting through his body is overwhelming. The grip around his phone tightens, hand shaking slightly as he loses himself in the feeling.

"Oh my g— ffuuckkk" The curse rips through his open mouth as his hand brushes over his tip. The aching nerves so desperate for attention cause a jolt of pleasure to tear through him almost painfully and a loud groan leaves his lips.

"ngh— aahh"

Tears well up in his eyes as the overwhelming pleasure grows even more. A knot forming in his lower abdomen pulls tight, threatening to snap and he gasps, quickly stuttering out a warning.

"sh-shit. Gonna cum, ohh"

With one final flick of his thumb over his aching tip, a stream of hot cum erupts from his cock. Spraying over his chest in spurts as he whines helplessly with each pump.

"Oh... ahh.. fuck... s'good"

After a few seconds to catch his breath, he fumbles with the screen of his phone and clicks end on the recording. Quickly sending it to you before collapsing back to the bed, exhausted.

Masterlist

[miserymet]

Tragedy - Reploid Bass AU

Was digging through my old WIPs and found this bad boy. It’s technically unfinished (because I didn’t know how to end it) but it gets the main point across and establishes the where the plot is at post MMX7. Thought it might be interesting to those who want more details on the AU.

(quick timeline context; Bass gets his memories back post mmx6, disappears off the face of the earth and shows back up again halfway through mmx7)

Summary: Zero and Bass talk about one of Bass’ many regrets. In the process, Zero tries to connect the brother he knew as Forte to the stranger wearing his face.

“I wasn’t supposed to be here.”

The words are quiet. Not soft, as nothing Zero’s brother does is soft anymore, but they lack the usual bite. It’s enough to draw Zero’s attention to where Bass now sits. 

The chair holding him is old, a mundane relic of the furniture that was commonplace over a hundred years ago. It’s a miracle that it hasn’t crumbled under the weight of its occupant, but Bass had mentioned that the entire base was designed around its mechanical residents. Perhaps its creator imagined one of his robots might need to use a chair. Even if there’s not much of a difference between sitting and standing for them.

Zero’s surprised to see that Bass has his back turned to him. His brother isn’t too keen on letting Zero out of his sight nowadays, but his gaze is firmly fixed upon the screen in front of him now. Another uncharacteristic behavior. Zero sets aside the spare parts he was examining, all interest gone, and approaches the screen that has his brother so transfixed. It casts a dim light even in the darkness of the base, but the image is clear enough.

It’s an old contact log. A few lines of text sit at the bottom of the screen and for some reason, Zero feels the need to read them aloud.

“Bass. I made a mistake. I created something that I can’t control. You’re the only robot strong enough to stop it. Please help me.” He furrows his brow as he speaks the final line. “I’m sorry.”

“Six lines. Twenty six words. A hundred and fifteen characters.” Bass mutters.

“What does it mean?” 

It’s a genuine question, and maybe that’s why Bass laughs as though it’s the stupidest thing he could have asked. Zero waits with bitter patience for his brother to finish. This is typical of Bass’ new personality. Brash, abrasive, rude, all of these words and more fit the new image Zero’s brother has made for himself. Even his name is new. “Bass.” It’s been a bit of an adjustment to say the least.

Eventually, Bass manages to pull himself out of his laughing fit. His next words are the last thing Zero expects to hear.

“These are the words that killed me.”

“…I thought I did that.” Is all Zero can say to that. Bass laughs, much quieter this time.

“In the end, yeah.” His brother leans back in his seat. “But fighting you wasn’t-, I didn’t…”

“You ‘weren’t supposed’ to?” Zero volunteers.

“…I shouldn’t have.”

Bass goes quiet, lost in whatever old memories are haunting him today. Zero can’t help but feel frustrated. He used to know what to do when Bass…when Forte was upset. Whether it was about his lost memories, his weakness, his outdated code, Zero could always help. It’s different now.

Everything’s different now.

“Do you remember what I told you about our creator? How we didn’t really get along?” Bass starts, gaze still stuck on that old log.

“Because of your penchant for rebellion, yes.”

“That was only half of it. Yeah, I disobeyed him whenever I felt like it, but he wasn’t some doting father.” His brother turns to glare at him. “He was the most selfish, stubborn, stupid old man I ever met. Full of himself, too. You would have hated him.”

“That sounds a lot like you.” Zero can’t help the bite to his words. Maybe X was right. Maybe all this is getting to him. “Where are you going with this?”

“I was loyal at first. The old man had a lot of expectations for me, and I was determined to meet them. I didn’t. No matter how hard I tried, how strong I was, it was never going to be good enough if I couldn’t beat-,”

He stops abruptly, almost letting something slip. Something important. Bass is always vague about his old memories. He’s hiding something, but Zero can’t tell if it’s because it’s too risky or because he’s hoarding all that’s left of his past. It could really be either one. Zero isn’t sure he knows Bass all that well anymore.

“The point is, I was a failure to him. So he tried to move on. Build something else.” Bass shakes his head. “I couldn’t accept that. We fought. First it was just arguments, but it escalated. Before I knew it we were trying to kill each other.”

“What did you do?” Zero asks, though he’s not sure he wants to hear the answer.

“I left.”

Oh. Zero wasn’t expecting that.

“It sounds obvious, right?” His brother rests his head against his hand, expression flat. “But I wasn’t a reploid. I didn’t have the programming X or Axl did. It wasn’t as simple as changing my career. I was leaving my creator.”

“Bass…”

He doesn’t let Zero get a word in. “I agonized over it for days. What was I if not his robot? What could I even do without him? I was practically one foot out the door already, but I couldn’t move the other one. I…cared about him.”

Zero tries to imagine it. Bass, in his original body, standing beside a vague figure. His gaze sweeps across the room and Zero sees Bass sitting on a table full of junk, swinging his legs as he speaks to his creator. What did his face look like? Was it flat and cold, speaking in an even tone about plans or progress or whatever a man like that saw fit to discuss with his creation? Or was he annoyed, brow furrowed with one dipping lower than the other and mouth pulled into a small pout? Maybe it was a face Zero had never seen before, a soft smile, a wry grin that so clearly spelled out his amusement. 

He can only imagine. When he turns back to his brother, Bass wears the grimace he’s grown so used to.

“That was how I convinced myself to leave, in the end.” He breathes an empty sigh. “If I stayed, I might have hurt him. Might have let my anger take me to far and…”

His hands move in front of him, digits curled tightly around an invisible enemy. They hang in the air for a moment and shake. Then they fall. Bass lets his head follow them.

“You came back.” Zero speaks softly, trying for a gentleness he’s never been good at. “Why?”

Bass doesn’t pick up his head. “Same reason. I cared.”

“He made a robot, couldn’t control it and called you for help.” It feels both more and less real when he says it aloud. “He called you to your death.”

“And I came. I came because I am a fucking idiot.”

Zero blinks at the harsh language. Bass is far from the composed brother he knew, but even he didn’t use that language regularly. It feels strange. Forte would never, but Bass…it fits him a little more.

“He didn’t even have to apologize. The moment he came to me for help, the moment he called me strong-,” Bass grips his head in his hands. “All my conviction disappeared. I walked into that lab, this lab-!” He throws out his hands, nearly hitting Zero, “and I died for the man that tried to kill me!”

Zero doesn’t know what to say. What can he say? This is something he’s just learned, a grief he can only imagine. Bass has lived with this knowledge since the day he got his memories back. How did he feel, waking up and knowing that he lost everything to a man long gone? How do you live with that burden? How do you keep fighting?

Bass shoots up from his chair, gaze now fixed on Zero. There’s so much behind his eyes that Zero can’t see. A world no one alive has any hope of understanding.

“I was so close to being happy! To having something other than a worthless creator who only tolerated me as long as he could use me!”

His brother takes a step forward, the light of the screen illuminating every tear that falls from his face.

“And he took that from me! You took that from me!”

“I’m sorry-“

Zero sees the punch coming. He almost dodges. It’s what every self-preservation program in him begs him to do. He doesn’t. He takes it. The punch is hard, snapping his head to the side quite painfully. He doesn’t flinch. Not even when Bass’ fist splits the synthetic skin of his cheek. All he does is look back at his brother.

Bass stands there, eyes wide and mouth open. His arm hangs in the air. He can see the grime left on his hands. Can see the tension in every part of his body. Then, it shifts. Bass drops his hand and closes his mouth. That glare returns, fierce as ever.

“Don’t pity me. It’s too late for that.”

Zero tries to find his words. “I don’t-,”

“That hit only landed because you let it.” Bass casts his gaze to the side. “Everything I do to you is because you let me. Even in this body, I’m not strong enough.”

[tfwbluu]

riki being jealous and leaving hickeys, I’m having a brain rot rn.

PRADA AFTER PARTY

PAIRING — ni-ki + f!reader

WARNINGS — idol!au, reader is a prada ambassador, semi-public sex (empty hallway), jealous!riki, pet names, he calls reader slut once, quickie, praise, squirting, biting (hickies duh), ki’s lowkey a dork at the end, mouth covering.

WORDCOUNT — 0.8K

NOTE — yes this is a reference to the prada party so MULLET RIKI! if yall see me work fast on reqs its bc i just have too many ideas and a lot of free time recently so yeah </3 not proofread so lmk if i missed anything in the warnings !

He didn’t know why he was so riled up. You were simply chatting with Heeseung, just as you always did, but something about it had his blood boiling. Was it your dress, hugging your figure in all the right ways? The way your hair frames your face so perfectly? Or maybe it was the gloss on your lips, making them look so tempting, so kissable. He didn’t know.

All he knew was that watching you laugh and smile with someone else was driving him mad. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. Striding toward the two of you, he grabbed your hand, pulling you away without explanation.

You yelped, barely managing to wave a confused goodbye to Heeseung as Riki dragged you through the crowd. When he finally stopped, he slammed you against the wall, caging you in with his arms.

“What was that all about?” you asked, confusion flickering in your wide eyes. It wasn’t like him to act this way.

“I don’t know,” Riki admitted, his voice low and strained. His face was so close, his nose brushing against your neck as he inhaled deeply, intoxicated by your scent. His lips pressed soft kisses along your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“Ngh… you’ll leave marks, Ki,” you whined, your hands weakly trying to push his head away.

He groaned, ignoring your protest as he pulled you even closer. His hands slid down, gathering the fabric of your dress and pulling it up to reveal your panties. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his desire evident in every movement.

“Fuck, I need you so bad, angel,” he murmured, his voice heavy with desperation. His gaze locked onto yours, pleading. “Can I?”

You hesitated, your breath hitching, but as his eyes bore into yours, you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no. You nodded, and that was all he needed. In one swift motion, he pushed your panties down your thighs.

He released his cock from its confines, his hand gathering your arousal before spitting into his palm and stroking himself a few times. Aligning his thick length with your entrance, he pushed in slowly, drawing a needy whine from your lips. The sound was quickly muffled by Riki’s hand clamping over your mouth.

“Shh, angel,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. “You don’t want anyone to find us, right?” Without giving you time to adjust, he began thrusting, his hips snapping into you with a relentless rhythm.

Your body trembled, your legs growing weak, and the only thing keeping you upright was his firm grip. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his jacket as your muffled moans vibrated against his hand. His lips trailed along your neck and collarbone, leaving tiny marks in his wake, each one claiming you as his.

“You’re mine, angel,” he growled, angling his thrusts to hit that perfect spot inside you. Stars danced in your vision as his cock drove into your g-spot with precision. “All mine.”

“F-Fmmk… ‘m clmmse~!” you whined, the words muffled against his hand. Your eyes rolled back, your body trembling as the pleasure overwhelmed you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck, desperate for release.

“You’re so loud, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “You wanna show everyone what a good slut you are f’ me, hmm?” His grip on your waist tightened, thrusts growing erratic as he chased his release.

“Let go, angel. Let’s cum together,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. With a final deep thrust, he groaned, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, filling you to the brim.

The sensation pushed you over the edge, and you cried out softly against his hand as you squirted around him, soaking both of your clothes. You silently thanked the darkness for hiding the evidence, though the mess clinging to your thighs was unmistakable.

Riki pulled out, gently sliding your panties back up, sealing his release inside you. “Keep my cum in,” he smirked, pressing a kiss to your lips, his own breathing heavy as he admired your flushed face.

He smoothed down your dress, adjusting it just enough to make you look presentable before tidying himself up with practiced ease. Reaching for his jacket, he draped it over your shoulders, the gesture almost tender.

“As much as I’d love to show you off, there are people out there,” he teased, his arm steadying you as you stumbled slightly, your legs still weak.

“Y-yeah… fuck,” you muttered, leaning into him for support.

“Sorry, angel,” he chuckled, holding you close as you both walked toward the exit, his fingers brushing soothingly against your waist.

A few moments of silence passed before he leaned down, his voice mischievous. “Well… wanna continue later?”

“Ki,” you groaned, exasperated but amused. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

[marginofthought]

Rearrange ~ Wincest smut

It's still Christmas were I'm from so here is another present - aka I can't draw but I like to write for this post

___

“Dean?” Sam asked with a frown, looking up from the newspaper he was reading. “What are you doing?” Dean only made a non-committal noise while he left the highway, taking the exit ramp and merging onto the next street.

Sam dismissed his brother and focused back on the research he was doing. Maybe Dean noticed something with the car he wanted to check out or maybe Dean needed to take a leak, this wasn’t the first time Dean had randomly pulled off their current route for any number of reasons. 

When Sam looked up again a moment later they weren’t headed into town like Sam had expected but were rather turning onto an even more remote road. Sam didn’t even want to call it a street, it was in such poor condition. 

“Dean, there was a sign for a gas station and a McDonald’s if you needed a piss.” Sam said and looked over to the driver’s side. 

“Not what I need,” Dean grumbled and Sam was surprised by the mixture of concentration and distraction on Dean’s face.

Sam folded the newspaper in his lap and laid it onto the dashboard before turning towards his brother. “Everything alright, Dean?” 

Dean shot Sam a quick look at the concern in the younger brother’s tone but turned away just as fast, grunting once again.

A few seconds later Dean pulled the car onto the basically non-existent shoulder near a copse of trees. He turned the car off and turned to Sam just as he was opening his mouth again. “Out!” Dean ordered, though not unkindly. 

“What?” Sam asked, confusion and annoyance warring in his tone. 

“Out, Sammy!”

Sam shook his head in disbelief but followed his brother’s orders, getting out of the creaking door and stepping into the warm sunshine. The main road was still visible and Sam could hear cars whooshing by. 

The driver’s side door opened with another creak and Dean’s heavy boots hit the dirty ground before the door fell closed again. 

“Come here,” Dean gruffly said and patted the hood of the car. 

Sam wanted to argue but knew that it wouldn’t do much good and sighed, rolling his eyes and walking towards where Dean was standing. “Okay, what’s going on?” Sam asked once again when he was standing just in front of Dean. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing to me? All nerdy and hot in my car.” Dean asked back gruffly, pulling Sam into a quick kiss before turning him around and using Sam’s temporary confusion to pin him to the hood. 

Sam grunted in surprise, barely able to support himself with his arms, landing on his elbows as he was bent over the warm metal. 

Dean stepped up behind him, interrupting Sam’s “What?” when he ground his hips against Sam’s ass, making his intentions clear. 

“You know, Dean, there was a sign for a motel too.” Sam chuckled, his laugh quickly turning into a moan. 

“Yeah but I want you right here, wanna fuck my baby on my baby.” Dean breathed against Sam’s ear, nipping at the sensitive flesh afterwards. 

It wasn’t the first time Dean had used some variation of that phrase but it always managed to make Sam flush like a teenage girl, the blush spreading down to his chest. 

“Dean,” Sam whined as he remembered where they were and where they had been on their way to. “Two hours and we can do this on a bed with some pre-”

“No!” Dean growled into his ear. “Now. On my baby.” 

Greedy hands wormed under Sam’s body, struggling to open his belt only by feel. Sam lifted his hips a bit until Dean finally managed to open the belt and loosen it, he popped the button open before he forced Sam’s jeans over his hips without even pulling the fly down. 

Sam grunted a little when he was tucked backwards before the material slid down the rest of his legs, his boxer shorts immediately following. 

Dean was obviously in a mood and Sam had learned early on in their relationship that it was best to let his brother get it out of his system with minimal complaints. 

His brother’s hands roamed across his naked skin before he started kneading Sam’s ass, pulling the cheeks apart and exposing Sam’s most intimate parts to the summer sun. 

A dry finger rubbed over the furled skin with purpose and Sam was barely able to choke out a warning before Dean pushed it inside him. 

“You’re not fucking me dry!” Sam growled out, trying to push his hips forward and out of Dean’s grip. 

Dean grumbled before a fat glob of spit landed on Sam’s exposed hole, running down the crack before Dean scoped it up and shoved it inside along a second finger. 

“Fuck,” Sam gasped out, the friction rough and he could feel his body heating up. It wasn’t quite painful yet but Sam knew that that could still change.

Dean was big, not just proportional for a 6’1” guy but actually big, call it Winchester genes or a blessing or whatever but Dean was huge. His soft cock alone was probably what guys would dream of having when hard and then add on that his brother, much like himself, was a grower, meant that Dean was much larger than average. 

It had taken them a few tries to even stretch Sam wide enough for Dean the first time and he was still struggling sometimes, especially in the oral department. 

That wasn’t to say that Sam disliked it, oh no, quite the opposite. Sam loved the feeling of being stuffed to the brim, stretched out by Dean’s cock, filling him up like it was made for him. 

Sam just usually preferred it with a healthy amount of lube and stretching beforehand. Once they had done it with just spit and Sam had been uncomfortable for days afterwards, and not in the fun - i can still feel you - kind of way.

Dean’s two thick fingers were pushing deeper into Sam and soon another wad of spit was added, slicking the way but not nearly enough. Sam tried his best to relax into it and move with Dean instead of against him but it didn’t seem to help all that much.

“Dean,” Sam groaned again. “Get the lube from the glove box.” 

Sam had started to keep a bottle there after the previous incident, not willing to risk it again. Dean however ignored his request, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of Sam’s tight hole, instead even pushing a third finger against it. 

A hand shot out and grasped Dean’s wrist, stopping him. “Get the lube, I mean it, Dean.”

“Sammy, c’mon.” Dean tried to plead.

“No, it’s like five feet and you know what happened last time.”

“That I do,” Dean said smugly but he finally pulled his fingers free. Whenever the incident was mentioned Dean had that stupid smug grin on his face, self satisfied with his dick and the ability to make Sam go wild from it, which Sam couldn’t even really deny. 

Dean’s weight lifted off of him and Sam could hear the creak of the door before Dean came back. A second later the fingers were back too, this time coated in cold slick lube and Sam breathed out a sigh of relief.

The third finger was quickly added and while Sam usually petitioned for a fourth, Dean apparently really was impatient after Sam had made him stop once already. 

There was the quiet sound of a zipper and fabric before Dean pulled his fingers back out and the blunt head of Dean’s dick was pressed against the wrinkled hole.

Sam braced himself, taking a deep breath and tried to relax when Dean pushed inside. The head of his dick squeezed past the first muscle and Sam’s breath was punched out of him when Dean continued to push forward.

“Fuck,” Sam groaned again, the pressure overwhelming and he couldn’t keep his noises in. He knew he was whimpering and whining, groaning and moaning while Dean buried himself balls deep in his little brother’s ass. 

“Feel so good, Sammy. So goddamn fucking tight, squeezing me so tight.” Dean told him. 

Dean gripped Sam’s hips, pinning him to the Impala before pulling back out and pushing back inside. He quickly established a rhythm, hips pumping forward and backward.

The pressure was perfect, Sam feeling so incredibly full but the friction was still quite uncomfortable where he wasn’t quite stretched enough. “More lube,” Sam grumbled after Dean pulled out once again. 

There was some shuffling and shaking from the side and a slick noise before another glob of lube landed on Sam along with a small noise from Dean.

“What?” Sam asked and tried to turn around to look at his brother.

“Erhm, the lube is empty.” Dean said and Sam could imagine the look on his face but before he could reply or react in any way, Dean shoved back inside.

The slide was slicker that was for sure but Sam would surely feel it tomorrow, especially after Dean established a rhythm again. 

Dean’s hips were continuously moving, his dick pushing deep into Sam, filling him up and Sam swore he should be able to see a bulge in his stomach. (Once when they had fucked in the morning and Sam’s stomach was at it flattest, it had actually happened and Sam could swear that Dean had never been more pleased or cum harder than that morning) 

Every thrust made a pass by Sam’s prostate and his own dick was bouncing and twitching under him, almost ready to burst just from Dean fucking him like this. Pushing all the way inside again, Dean stilled for a moment before he rocked his hips just a little, making Sam mewl just a little. 

“Love your little noises,” Dean said breathlessly, continuing to rock into Sam. 

Sam couldn’t concentrate, split open and flared wide by his big brother and he absentmindedly worried that Dean would leave a gape when he was done. “Nngh,” he managed intelligently. 

His brother chuckled behind him again. “See, that’s what I mean.”

Sam tried to make his mouth work but was interrupted once again by Dean pulling out before roughly thrusting back in. It made Sam moan loudly, a hint of discomfort in the sound as Sam was split open again and again on Dean’s thick cock and the little lube they had was almost dried up.

Dean’s hands shifted, pulling Sam up against his chest. In the back of his mind Sam marveled at the easy strength with which his brother could manhandle all of Sam. His brain however was still in shambles and it was difficult for Sam to make more than unintelligible noises.

The angle change brought tears to Sam’s eyes as Dean was able to fill him even better, his rim pulled wide with every thrust. Sam tried to brace himself on Dean’s arms but his hand slipped on the sweat slick skin. 

“Fuck!” Sam cried out as his orgasm bowled him over. His body seized up, hips rocking back into Dean as he came without a hand on his dick. Every one of Dean’s thrust made another spurt of cum erupt from his cock, white streaks tarnishing the black metal of Baby’s hood. Sam keened loudly and his vision went fuzzy, when Dean doubled down, his brother’s name falling from his lips. 

“Take it, baby, c’mon.” Dean’s voice was rough, his breath fanning hot across Sam’s neck. A few thrusts later and Dean pulled him even tighter while his hips stuttered and he filled his little brother up inside. 

Sam collapsed back onto the hood once Dean released his grip, pulling out too quickly at the motion and making Sam hiss at the sore feeling. 

“You okay?” Dean asked with a pat to Sam’s side. 

Sam grunted before extricating a hand from under him and putting up a thumb. “Yeah,” he slurred.

..

It had taken Sam a few minutes to peel himself off the hood, pulling up his pants with shaking legs and trapping Dean’s cum in his boxers.

Sam looked like a mess when he saw himself in the window reflection. His hair was tousled even though he couldn’t remember either of them getting a hand in it, he was flushed and sweaty both from the activity and the summer sun. Sam’s cheeks burned even brighter when he noticed the visible stains of cum on his shirt and he quickly whipped it off, reaching into the back for another t-shirt. 

Sitting down was equally as uncomfortable as his wet boxers met his sore ass. Sam was a little tempted to both change his boxers and also reach inside his current ones to feel if Dean finally succeeded in leaving him gaping.

Dean whistled nonchalantly as he got into the car after wiping down the hood and sank into the driver’s seat with a pleased expression. 

Sam was still struggling with a decision and words when Dean turned the car back on, reversing up to the main street before turning onto it. 

“Dean?” Sam asked when Dean had ignored the highway and drove into town this time. 

Dean ignored him again until he pulled into the town's diner and Sam’s stomach churned at just the smell of grease that hit him when Dean’s door opened. “C’mon, I’m hungry now.” Dean grinned cheekily and got out, striding towards the front door. 

Sam shook his head bemusedly, his brother ever the hedonist. Sam stiffly got out of the car, hoping no one nearby was looking at him before opening the trunk and pulling out his duffel bag. 

Dean was already sitting at a booth when Sam walked past him and gestured at the restroom near the back, waiting for Dean to nod before he left for it. 

A few minutes later Sam came back out in a fresh pair of boxers, though he kept the jeans the same so as not to attract too much attention. 

He slid into the booth opposite from Dean and carefully sat down, his mouth twisting slightly at the sore feeling.

“You’re replacing the lube at the next store,” Sam hissed at his brother, trying to look stern.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t act like you don’t love it.” Dean grinned back and knew he was right when Sam’s face turned even more sour but didn’t say anything else. 

..

Dean had chatted shortly with the elderly waitress and was now biting heartily into his greasy mess of a double cheeseburger, of course with extra onions. The sight and smell were enough for Sam’s stomach to turn and he tried to focus on his own plate. 

The chicken wrap he had ordered was a little dry but he preferred it to the grease dripping down Dean’s fingers. Sam bit into one of his fries and even though it was kind of gross, found his eyes wandering back to his brother. 

There was such a happy and satisfied smile on Dean’s face that Sam temporarily forgot his disgust. It was rare to see Dean this carefree and Sam would do most things to ensure Dean could look like that more often. 

That was until he shifted in his seat and was reminded of just how sore his ass was and then he had to wonder how Dean could eat so nonchalantly, talk with strangers and jam out to music when he had just rearranged Sam’s guts a few minutes ago. 

Sam shook his head, feeling like every person in sight could read exactly what they had done not too long ago but well, he would do it again, wouldn’t he…

[i-already-know-im-going-2-hell]

Tags: teenchesters, underage, wound licking kink Words: 804

"Sammy?" Dean says, releasing his hand finally.

Sam's used to his name meaning a million and one things coming from Dean's mouth.

Sammy, you ok? I've got you Sammy. Sammy. My little brother.

His head is spinning too far to be able to tell what Dean's asking him, but he nods anyways, fearing what will come out of his mouth if he tries to speak, and relying on Dean to keep directing him forward. He'd follow Dean anywhere. Even if anywhere means he's here pressed against a counter with his brother's spit still cooling on his dropped hand.

Maybe honestly especially here.

Dean, taking Sam's nod to mean an answer to his question, brushes his knee forward tentatively. Sam's hips jut forward instinctively at the contact before he can stop them, and he knows his brother can tell he's fully hard.

He eyes Dean nervously, checking his expression for any traces of disgust, but he just sees his brother's eyes as wide and nervous as his before he manages to shutter it away behind his familiar smirk.

"It's ok Sammy, I've got you" he says, pressing forward harder this time.

A moan makes it's way halfway out of Sam's mouth before he clamps it shut in horror and presses his face forward into Dean's shoulder to hide. Dean chuckles at that with his confident older brother laugh, the one he lets out whenever he finds something to tease Sam endlessly over. He raises his knee just right for Sam to rut against and presses his lips just against Sam's ear causing him to shiver.

"Got you little brother," he says lowering his leg just a little before pressing upwards once more. "Come on Sammy."

Sam can hear the dare and the never gonna let anything happen to you all rolled up in one. He bites into Dean's shirt so that no more sounds escape, little brother brattiness unwilling to let Dean win it all even if he's already given in.

Dean keeps his leg steady as Sam ruts forward finally, his rhythm set by Dean's hand on his hip. He drags his lips down Sam's neck. Not quite kissing, just pressing, as Sam finally gets the pace right. Just as he gets down to the junction of where his collarbone is he nips hard enough it'll draw a mark later, causing Sam's rhythm to falter and drop Dean's shirt from his teeth.

Speeding up his pace he can feel himself getting closer to the edge and he lets out the barest whine as he stays just on this side of coming.

Sam feels Dean smirk against his skin and he considers scowling for half a second before abandoning the prospect, devoting all his attention back to pressing into his brother over and over. Dean licks across the spot he'd nipped in punishment as if he can read Sam's mind anyways.

He probably can. After all Sam's not even sure how they got to this point or what Dean read in him that let him think Sam wanted this when Sam didn't even know he did.

"Come on, give it up," he says pressing kisses up Sam's neck before pulling back forcing Sam to look at him.

"Like having your big brother take care of you? Like me stitching you up Sam?"

Sam huffs out a whine as Dean pulls him forward faster, his words making him feel overheated and tight in his skin.

"Want me to put you together the same way every time Sam? Come on Sammy, let me take care of you, I got you Sammy."

His hips jut forward off rhythm twice more before he can feel himself spilling into his jeans. Lost in his head he resurfaces to the feel of Dean's hands stroking over his hair and the tang of metal on his tongue.

Opening his mouth he releases Dean from where he'd apparently bit him on the neck, leaving only indents more than anything, but a small couple of drops bead up and start to fall where he'd broken the skin. Unable to look away Sam readily follows the compulsion to lean forward and taste them.

It tastes like, blood. Nothing special to it, but the thought of Dean consuming his earlier and him now doing the same makes him flush hot.

He hears Dean chuckle and finally looks back up at his brother who stopped stroking his hair at some point.

"You know at this point I'm starting to think Dad might've been wrong about vampires being extinct."

Scowling Sam shifts to push Dean back and remind him that he hasn't been funny since Sam was in middle school, but stops when Dean hisses.

In confusion Sam looks down and sees Dean's jeans, the front raised with as much give as the denim allows.

Dean is hard.

Dean is hard.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | x

[everlastingday]

happy wednesday everyone, and if you celebrate, happy christmas!! 🎄

today's wip wednesday is a work is published since i finally managed to finish the holiday au! you can read it on ao3 if you'd like.

thank you @paperstorm, @carlossreaders, and @whatsintheboxmh for the tags! 💜

--

As if TK noticed the lack of Carlos’s presence beside him, he turns around, his eyes searching until they lock with Carlos’s. It could’ve been only a second or two, or ten, or more, Carlos isn’t sure, but he feels the world fade out around him until only he and TK remain. He licks his lips, wanting to say something, but not being able to find the words.

And in that moment, as if the universe heard his prayers, it starts to snow. 

TK breaks eye contact first, looking up at the sky. A smile starts to spread on his face, as if he was a child experiencing his first snow. “Hey, it’s snowing!” he says excitedly. 

Carlos laughs softly. “Do you get this excited every time it snows?” he asks.

“Well, no,” he starts. “I just thought maybe it was your first time seeing snow, being from Texas and all.”

Carlos’s heart swells with the understanding that the pure joy on TK’s face was for him. He’s not entirely sure he deserves it. He takes a few strides to close the distance between them. TK sucks in a breath as Carlos draws near, looking up at Carlos with those glimmering, sea-green eyes that hooked him in from the first moment he laid eyes on them.

“TK?” he asks, his voice raspy and laced with desire.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” TK replies, a soft smile on his face as he takes the half step left between them and places his hand on Carlos’s chest.

--

open tag & no-pressure tagging a few people under the cut!

@heartstringsduet @nancys-braids @welcometololaland @reyesstrand

@thisbuildinghasfeelings @captain-gillian @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe

@lightningboltreader @eclectic-sassycoweyes @firstprince-history-huh

@carlos-in-glasses @nisbanisba @henrygrass @emsprovisions @futures-tense

let me know if you want to be added/removed, and please feel free to tag me as well, i love seeing what everyone else is working on! 💜

[chillenby]

It's 2 am so um sorry if this doesn't make much sense..

I know a lot of people hate Jimmy and rightfully so. I mean he's a bad person, raped Anya, was too much of a coward to face his own actions so he decided that he should write a tragedy, then fails at it, only to be the reason why everyone died one by one and then finally killing himslef and giving Curly extra 20 years to be saved to once again avoid conciquences and to be the 'hero' he so much wishes he could be. He is selfish, greedy, a bastard and genually an awful human being. I understand that fully.

And yet, he is my favorite character along with Curly (and I don't mean only the pre-crash 'hot' Curly, but also post-crash Curly). You know why? He's so complex and interesting to think about. From psychoanalysis to just trying to figure out how he would interact with characters outside of what we see in the game.. it's all interesting. And it doesn't help that he is the reason for what happens in the game and I cannot explain how much I love the plot (the best way to describe it is that Jimmy is the core of this game, he is connected to everyone and everyone connects ro him, so in my mind, if I want to appreaciate this game fully, I need to extend it to that asshole, because we out him there would be no plot or those hard hitting messages). I love him as a character, I love how fucked up he is, I love that we play as him, I love his dialoge scenes and lastly I love his delusions because I love metaphores and I love that he is one of those characters that makes me think.

I know people shit on him and you know what? Fair. I sometimes do that to characters that've done nothing wrong, but I think they're cunts. But it sometimes just saddens me how people just ignore him or just make stupid jokes like 'sorry you had ro draw Jinglebells'. I know they are jokes, but I don't know, I'm tired of seeing them everywhere and being fed a lot of 'I hate Jimmy' stuff.

I mean there are Jimcurly fans which have amazing art and they sometimes get one thing correctly (in my tastes, this is all a personal opinion and I just want to yell it out into the void called internet) is that it hurts. Jimmy hurts people and hurts Curly, and in a lot of fics and art Curly just lets him. And I like that, as much as usually I like silly and wholesome stuff, for this game specifically I want it to hurt. I hope it hurts. Because that's the theme of the media, it's hard to consume and it hurts, it's dark and fucked up, it talks about our society and the people in it.

...

Also the aus and stuff can be fucking wild. Like there are amazing ones like surviviors au comic where instead of crashing the crew is stuck in a wormhole (I love it so much, genually can't stop thinking about it and rereading it, so beautiful and so good, didn't knew that was exactly what I needed until I read it) and like anti-tulpar (which I'm just receantly getting into and it's odd but in a good way, it's funky). But one the other side we have like lobotomy au and hypno au (the hypno au I read is like on the fence of being uncomfortable and not too bad, since the hypno used makes Jimmy docile and truthful, but on the inside he is still the same person, and like I read a smut and I was left wondering is it rape or not..). I just found out about lobotomy au and as much as I like fucked up shit that to me feels like crossing the line especially since I heard that it's usually used in a sexual manner(I don't have twitter so luckily I managed to escape most of it, but I heard a few things and I have certain opinions I just want to yell out, but if my info about this is wrong feel free to inform me :)). On that I have only one opinion, what is wrong with people? Like I get it, he is a bad person and has done awful things, but to do something to dehumanize him to the point of not being able to have deeper thoughs and not being able to take care of himself, then put him in a sexual manner where he gets practically raped since he can't consent? Why? Do people actually find this attractive or is it some type of letting out your anger? I think it's fucked up

But yea.. if anyone reads this thanks I guess? I just needed to spew out all my thoughts and make them make sense. Form them into proper words and ideas instead of unprocessed junk

So as a closing thought, please apreaciate Jimmy more and make more complex jokes. (Or at least don't like hate on this post too much aand don't post those stupid jokes under this post too much, I'd make my day if none of that would happen)

[yuriohni]

Please give me your wisdom on how the heck you draw ryoma. I love him. Ive been trying for so long but he looks either too tall or not bulky enought god.

i've also battled with things like that for a long time, to be honest i've been drawing him for almost 5 years now so its ok if he doesnt look perfect, i still have trouble with his proportions everytime i draw him. Anyway, past that i think i have something that might help

I made this reference sheet a while ago because he never looked the same as i drew him before, as you see i've decided a height of 4.4 or so heads for him this is VERY bare bones so i'll rework it and finish it and post it for anyone that needs it Of course the best thing will always be to reference actual people with dwarfism AND (not or) you can see how artists interpret shortness, dwarves and similars in rpg related series can be a good start

(by Ryoko Kui)

(Lalafells from Final Fantasy)

if you manage to get the proportions right his buffness will come easier to you, after all is the same process look at references of people and also how some artists portray it for example, i usually get in mind a pose i want to do and then draw it as if it was a cartoon character, not much detail and limbs are just cylinders focusing more on the pose and proportions than details (having the reference here helps a lot too,

(Kota Ibushi)

and then work from there adding details and fixing whatever needs it

You can also edit your references but keep in mind that it will not be entirely accurate

and also, just like with everything in art, be patient, as i said it took me almost 5 years to draw him like i do now so dont get too frustrated if it doesnt look how you want just practice and you'll get there

anyway hope this helps!

[koji-haru]

Lucky for Me

[Merry Christmas everyone!! Here's a little Christmas special from me! Title and story heavily based off and inspired by 'Lucky for Me' by Laufey. I recommend listening to the song for the full experience! Also, thank you @inubaki for gifting me a drawing for this piece!! ❤️]

Winter, December 24th, Christmas Eve. While the snow covered streets outside were in a peaceful slumber, the buildings that lined them twinkled brightly in colours of green, red and yellow as loud bubbly music and Christmas cheers seeped out into the layers of snow. Young people clad in thick, colourful jumpers adorned with intricate designs and flashing lights with red cups in their hands as they roamed stumbling about the cramped room to spread their merry-making from one group of friends onto another. 

A tired yawn managed to escape from Michael as he tried to remain standing in a group circle, listening to everyone’s adventures and plans for the holidays. The month had been an exhausting one for him, what with projects he had to finish and exams he had to study for. But that was all over now, the winter holidays were here and despite the difficult semester, everyone seemed to have regained their vigour just in time for the Christmas party. Michael pulled his sleeve back a little, looking at the time on his watch. It was just a little past midnight. He turned to the person standing not too far from him, who seemed to be enjoying all the buoyant laughter and drinks parties like this usually brought. Parties usually went on for much longer, and while Michael was just about ready to head home and sleep, he didn’t want to interrupt and ruin everyone’s fun. And so, he remained standing there, slowly sipping at his drink, which was more juice than alcohol, and idly listened to everyone's stories through the haze of loud music and alcohol. 

No matter how inconspicuous Michael tried to be, Adam still noticed the yawn the shorter man let out as he turned to look at his watch. A hand lightly over his mouth, Adam suppressed the chuckle that was spilling out of him at the sight of Michael sleepily ‘socialising’ with their classmates, though all he did was quietly sip at his juice as he idly stared at nothing. And as adorable Adam found the sight to be, it was also a little pitiful. He did, after all, drag Michael along with him despite knowing that events such as this weren’t really something he particularly enjoyed. 

And so, with some quick words and acknowledgements, Adam slipped out of the conversations he was in, tossed his now empty cup into the bin, and made his way through the tight crowd back to Michael. 

“Hey,” Adam said as he easily plucked the still almost full cup from Michael’s hands, with the other a few seconds too slow to realise his drink had been snatched away from him. “You ready to head home?”

The look that Michael gave Adam was akin to that of a relieved child with the way his dark blue eyes shone with muted relief and joy at the offer of returning home. Still, ever the too considerate partner, Michael instead opted to ensure Adam’s preference first. 

“We can stay longer if you want,” Michael replied, his gentle voice barely audible in the crowd.

“Nah, I’m bored already, so let’s go,” Adam reaffirmed.

“Are you su–”

“Yup! So let’s go already,” insisted Adam as he grabbed Michael’s hand and dragged him through the crowd, placing the cup still in his hand on a random table while they made their way towards their exit.

I just wanna take you home Call a taxi in the snow

One of their classmates tried to rush towards the door in wobbly steps, one hand reaching out for the pair that had one hand already on the door knob, ready to leave. 

“Adam! Man, no way,” they said as they finally managed to grasp onto Adam’s shoulder, the drink in their cup threatening to spill over. “You’re leaving already?”

“Yup, too tired already. So, see ya!” 

Without further ado, Adam turned the knob and pushed the door open, dragging Michael along with him out into the snowy streets, where they stood in the cold for a few minutes waiting for a taxi to pick them up. 

Once their ride finally arrived, both Adam and Michael quickly entered the taxi, their shivering forms trying to escape the freezing cold they both subjected themselves into. A content sigh left both of their lips as they relaxed into the back of the taxi, enjoying the comfortable warmth inside the vehicle. 

A winter wonderland zoomed past their windows; icy landscapes with naked trees only covered up by thick snow, houses adorned with either simple, homely lights or complex designs involving moving figures and patterned light shows. All those flashing lights, eye-catching decorations with vibrant colours, and yet, all Adam had eyes for was the man beside him with hair that was like woven gold, cheeks like the starry night, and deep blue eyes that reflected the shining lights like galaxies in the vast expanse of the universe. For all the wonder and joy Christmas brought, Michael was definitely Adam’s favourite gift.

The winds outside flurried the falling snow past the taxi window, and despite the heat provided by the car, Adam noticed that Michael wrapped both of his hands around himself, hidden beneath his coat. Just then, an idea hit Adam. He knew exactly how to warm up Michael. 

Adam subtly eyed the rear view mirror, waiting for a moment when the driver focused more on the road, before he made his move and lightly tapped Michael on the shoulder. As soon as he got his partner’s attention, Adam made a swift move, leaning over for a brief moment to place a light kiss on Michael’s cheek. 

When the driver can’t see Steal a kiss from you

A deep red heat quickly blossomed on Michael’s cheeks, even spreading to his ears, as he sat surprised for a moment before hiding his flushed face under his gloved hands. 

“How sneaky,” Michael murmured beneath his gloved hands.

“What can I say? I’m an opportunist and I saw an opportunity,” Adam shrugged playfully, before receiving a playful shove. 

—-

Adam stood frozen still by their accommodation’s door, eyes blankly staring at his empty hands. No matter how many times he had searched and flipped his pockets inside out, no key turned up. 

“...Adam..?” Michael asked, peeking over Adam’s shoulder. “Wait, one moment…” he said as he began to search his own pockets as well, hoping that he brought his own set of keys as well. 

Realised I forgot the keys Think that it was meant to be

After a minute or two of shuffling and searching through every pocket he had, Michael also turned up empty handed. “Well…that’s unfortunate. Hold on, I’ll send a message to– Ah, Adam, don’t–!”

The door to their accommodation rattled and shook loudly as Adam irritably twisted the knob while simultaneously banging on the door, causing as much of a ruckus as possible. Despite his smaller frame, Michael managed to pry Adam off of the door, putting himself between Adam and the door to prevent further attempts. 

“What are you doing?!” Michael whisper shouted. “You’ll wake everyone up!”

“Exactly!” Adam tried to get past Michael to rattle the door once more, but was kept in place by the shorter man. 

“No, don’t ‘exactly’ me. It’s like…,” Michael paused briefly to check the time on his phone, “it’s 2 am in the morning, Adam. Let’s not wake people up. I’ll send all our friends a message instead, maybe one of them is awake.”

“Fine,” huffed Adam, arms crossed as he backed away and moved towards the railings instead. 

Light footsteps soon followed Adam, and beside him was Michael, who had joined him to rest on the railings. Just a little outside the centre of the city, the night sky was a captivating darkness, devoid of the artificial lights from towering buildings and was instead sprinkled with small shimmering stars as the moon glowed brightly high up in the sky, like a far, unreachable goddess. The fresh winter snow fell like the lightest of feathers through the air, piling ever so gently on top of one another. Adam’s eyes followed one particularly large snowflake danced lazily in the cold winter breeze, slowly swirling its way towards the top of Michael’s hair, where it landed delicately like a kiss. And just as Adam’s eyes landed on Michael’s hair like a snowflake, Michael himself turned to face Adam, a small smile on his lips as their eyes met, both shining in the darkness.

‘Cause we sat outside You looked in my eyes,

And for a moment there, despite the freezing temperatures, their bodies shaking with an uncomfortable chill, the night sky so endlessly dark, and the air far too crisp and cold against their faces, the little space Adam shared with Michael kindled a warming flame within him. A flame warm enough and bright enough to keep the deadliest of chills and the darkest of nights away. In the dead of winter, a summer was kept alive between the two of them.

When the sun goes away in the autumn And the leaves trickle down from the trees The heat of the summers, forgotten You’ll be here, so lucky for me

“Is there something on my face?” asked Michael, his head tilted a little in confusion when Adam kept on staring at him in silence. 

Adam had half a mind to brush the snowflake off of Michael’s hair, but instead opted to leave it there. His hands swerved down and away from reaching for the snowflake and grabbed onto Michael’s scarf instead, where he rewrapped the fluffy scarf around the shorter man’s neck. 

“It wasn’t wrapped properly,” said Adam, trying to play it cool. 

“Thanks,” said Michael as he pulled the bright scarf a little closer to his face, snuggling deeper into it. 

A comfortable silence sat between the two of them as they watched more and more snow dance through the air, the blackness of the sky becoming closer to a dark grey as more clouds gathered to dust the land with more snow. 

“By the way,” Michael started, eyes fixated on the falling snow. “How’s your band going?”

At the mention of his little side passion, Adam visibly perked up, his idle gaze into nothing immediately brightening up into one of vigorous enthusiasm. He shifted a little so that his body faced Michael as he leaned more comfortably against the cold railing, the frost falling off it from his movements. 

You don’t tell me to shut up Even when I talk too much

“You wouldn’t believe what happened like four days ago,” Adam replied with much excitement. “Lute– You remember Lute, right?”

Michael nodded wordlessly.

“Okay, good. So, Lute. There was this guy, she barely even knew him by the way, and…”

Adam droned on and on about both the troubles and ‘fun adventures’ his band got into, from having the police called on them to being invited to a fancy venue they were sure was a case of mistaken identity, but money was money so they performed anyway. The topics moved and hopped from his band  adventures to pilling college stress and useless group mates to personal grievances against their accommodation neighbours. And as Adam babbled on and on about everything that had recently happened in his life, Michael simply listened in silence with the occasional nod and hum to let Adam know that he was still paying attention. 

“What a crazy bitch, right?” asked Adam, though he wasn’t really looking for affirmation. “Can you believe she actually…” Adam suddenly trailed off, his eyes looking back down towards Michael, his lips closed shut. 

“She did what?” queried Michael as he leaned on his hand, eyes bright and focused at Adam. 

“Sorry, I just realised I was babbling again,” Adam answered a little sheepishly, one hand scratching the back of his head. “I must’ve talked your ear off again, sorry.”

A light chuckle slipped from Michael’s lips at Adam’s awkwardly bashful display in front of him. He found it rather funny in an especially endearing way. How someone of Adam’s stature, tall and imposing, matched with his loud and overly confident presence, could suddenly act so cute and oddly polite at the most random of instances. Michael found it so sweet, he could just eat Adam up!

However, the two were outside, in public, so instead Michael settled on something a little more civil for now. 

“Nono, you’re alright. You didn’t talk my ear off,” Michael assured with a tender smile. Truly, he didn’t mind; to him, listening to Adam’s voice at length was akin to listening to the most heavenly of melodies. “In fact, I could listen to your voice all day.”

You’ll smile at me, say,  “Don’t worry”

This time, it was Michael’s turn to cause red blossoms to flourish all across Adam’s cheeks, heating him up just like Adam did to him during their taxi ride. 

“You’re cringe as fuck, you know,” Adam mumbled as he placed both of his hands on his cheeks, his eyes darting to the side. 

Michael simply hummed a soft, merry tune in response. A little proud of his handiwork. 

When the sun goes away in the autumn And the leaves trickle down from the trees The heat of the summers, forgotten You’ll be here, so lucky for me

Trying to escape the starry-eyed gaze directed at him, Adam tried to act casually as he fished his phone from his pocket to see if any of their friends had seen and replied to their messages yet. The screen’s bright light flickered across his face as he scrolled through his phone, still trying very hard to not let Michael’s gaze affect him much. Then, his fingers stopped suddenly, the red flush on his face swiftly fading as a relieved happiness washed over him in waves. 

“Oh finally!” he exclaimed before turning his phone towards Michael.

On the screen in front of him showed Emily, one of their friends, having read and replied to Adam’s message, saying that she would head down soon to open the door for them. 

“Oh, nice,” Michael commented as Adam pulled his phone back and typed a reply to Emily. 

With the help of the phone’s light, Michael finally noticed then, a mistletoe hanging on the overhang just above both him and Adam. Odd. How a mistletoe could just coincidentally be above them both. Suddenly, Adam’s words from earlier echoed back in his head and a little mischief bloomed in his mind. 

Remembering on which floor Emily resided in, Michael calculated in his head that he should have just enough time if he acted quickly enough. And so, with a light tap, he got Adam’s attention away from his screen before he swiftly grabbed the front of Adam’s coat and pulled him down so he could plant a chaste kiss on the brunette’s soft lips. 

“Wha–” stammered Adam, the heat on his cheeks returning brighter than ever. 

Michael let go of Adam’s coat before pointing up to the mistletoe that hung over them. 

“What can I say? I’m an opportunist and I saw an opportunity,” he mimicked Adam’s words from before, a satisfied smile on his face before turning to face the door that had finally clicked open with Emily looking very much concerned for the both of them.

“Adam?” Emily called out.

At the call of his name, Adam finally snapped out of his initial shock, giving himself a light slap on his cheeks before finally following suit. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

You’ll be here, so lucky for me

[pogueish]

sarah froze, the words she wanted to say caught somewhere between her mind and her throat, tangled in the weight of everything unsaid. what could she even say? she knew she was guilty of pushing him too far, of pressing all the right buttons just to watch him unravel. she liked the way he reacted, the fire in his eyes, the sharp edge to his words. but, god, when he threw those little digs her way, they landed harder than she’d ever admit. they clung to her like barbs, stinging long after the moment passed.

there were comebacks dancing on the tip of her tongue, clever and cutting, aching to be said. but the truth lodged itself in her chest like a stone—his words weren't fully wrong. she had this awful, insatiable need to be seen, to be heard, to matter. her family life was a trainwreck, and she was the one left standing in the wreckage, desperate for any scrap of attention that felt like love. that’s why she’d held onto topper for so long, even when she knew better. he was familiar, predictable. safe in all the worst ways.

her chest tightened at the realization, and she hated herself for it. hated that she couldn’t just shake this toxic need. hated that she felt alive in moments like this, with jj’s hands firm on her arms, his voice low and biting but still so close. hated that even now, with his disdain dripping off every word, she couldn’t stop herself from loving the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing in the world capable of driving him this crazy.

she bit at her bottom lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood, her doe eyes locked on his, searching for something—anything—that might give her a way out of this tangled mess of emotions. she wanted to ask him what he was down for, wanted to challenge him, push him just a little further. but instead, she stood there, her breath uneven, her body betraying her with its closeness to his.

“i... i need a drink,” she finally managed, the words coming out softer than she intended. she dropped her gaze briefly, letting her eyes trail from his, down the front of his body, and to the ground, breaking the tension for just a second before looking back up at him. “you want one?” her voice wavered slightly, but she forced a small smile, trying to defuse the moment. it was her way to try and extend an olive branch, in some form or another. “i promise not to run my ‘pretty mouth.’ cross my heart.”

jj had no idea what the hell was going on. this back-and-forth, this twisted game they were caught in, the constant tug between wanting to run and wanting to stay—it was all too much. almost maddening, really. he ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the blonde strands near the root, his frustration palpable. with a sharp shake of his head, he tore his gaze away from her, if only for a moment. he couldn’t keep up with her. it was impossible.

muttering a curse under his breath, he let his hand fall to his side—no, it more like slapped down in a mix of snark and disbelief, a half-laugh slipping out along with a smile that was more of a grimace. when he finally decided to look back at her, she was a step closer—almost to close for comfort. “humor you?” he laughed. there was a squint in his eyes. she was pushing his buttons, pushing him to say things he knew he’d latter regret. she knew how much she was frustrating him, how she got under his skin more than anyone else ever had before and she liked it. damn kooky priss. yeah, that’s what it was. it was because she was a kook.

"sure," he said, voice dripping with disdain, "shall i present it to you on a silver platter, miss cameron?" he mocked her status. he locked gazes with her, knowing her well enough to know that she wasn’t going to back down. “jesus,” he muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, “you just have to keep goin’ don’t ya? that’s your problem—you love this shit. y’ practically feed off it,” he pull his lips into a thin line as if he were done talking. “hell, you’d probably stand here all night just to run that pretty mouth of yours, huh?”

he held his breath, closing the already narrow space between them. his stance was tall but controlled, his hands settling on either side of her arms as lowered his head towards her. “sorry, princess,” he said, voice low. “your flip-flop crew might be down for that, but not me.”

[starkittnd93]

Based off of a thing I said a little earlier, I think they’d get along if they met!

[eydilily]

would you bite the hand that feeds you?