#few things piss me off and terrify me just as much as the rise of generative ai

[nintendont2502]

like you'd think. YOUD THINK that IT students of all people would AT THE VERY LEAST understand how generative AI works and what use cases it works best for (none in an ideal world but I digress!!) and YET.

the guy i sat next to in every lab who would immediately pull up chat gpt (ON THE UNI COMPUTERS) and just read out whatever it said whenever he was asked a question (it was a tiny ass lab too how he wasn't caught I will never understand). the BOARD MEMBER FOR THE UNI IT ASSOCIATION who wanted us to "teach our members how to take advantage of AI" (despite our uni guidelines prohibiting AI useage). the amount of people who, when i asked them about a difficult assignment I worked my ass off to finish, would go "oh haha I just got chatgpt to generate my code and report ^-^". I'm getting the same goddamn degree as every single one of these people and yet they're barely putting in any work. I'm going to lose my fucking mind

[reyalvr]

SHE'S MINE | 01

I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊  3.2k

author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!

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KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…

But it wasn’t. 

He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 

You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 

“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 

Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 

Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.

“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 

You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 

“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 

Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 

“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”

Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 

“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 

Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.

“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”

“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 

You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 

You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”

He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 

Shit. Strike two. 

You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”

Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 

“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 

He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 

“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 

“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 

“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.

Strike three. 

THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 

Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 

He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 

“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 

“No.” You replied bluntly.

“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 

“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”

You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 

“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 

And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 

It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 

It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.

“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 

“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”

At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 

“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 

“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 

For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.

You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 

“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 

“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 

He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”

“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 

“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”

“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 

“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 

“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 

He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.

“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 

He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 

“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”

“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 

“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 

He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 

“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”

He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.

“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 

He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 

“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 

Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 

Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 

You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 

He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 

Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 

“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 

“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 

Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

[peanutbubba]

This one might make me a freak but "I'm cringe but I AM FREE" is like my slogan at this point so popping off I will be again.

I am half awake

Younger Law, 20-22, finally loosing his virginity after trying since he turned 17. He'd gotten close with plenty of people before, it's just that he'd either get cold feet and leave his partner confused and with a leaf in their bed or he his expectations weren't met so he pushed them away. Personally I don't label Law's sexuality, don't care much for labeling sexuality in my headcanons much, so he has tried attempted with both sexs but because I want to (I don't think I could type what I wanna so I'll let you figure out what I was gonna say) I'm thinking of a scenario where he looses his virginity to a dude, maybe just amab, I feel like virgin Law would be scared of a strap.

Guy's probably older by maybe 3 years, and it makes a difference, first person to get Law to calm down enough to not instantly ghost them once more than a shirt comes off, first person to make Law want to be heard by the neighbors, first person to fuck Law so sweet and good he almost considers offering them a place on his crew cause god all mighty the dick is that persuasive. Also, as a treat, they switch at some point or a few, still a lot of his partner talking Law through it and giving him special attention for doing so good at fucking them. I feel like Law is a default soft top/sub top, he can lay pipe when asked but bro just wanna be praised for doing a good job fr. Jesus christ if you've seen some of the other shit I say in people inboxes I love the aftercare scene like the most. Law is doing nothing after he cums!! Doesn't matter, carry him or push him off if you must but he is not participating in the movement of his body unless you're injured. Image you get done plowing Trafalgar D. Water Law and he pouts when you expect him to help clean up or he lies on you chest (BOOBY ENJOYER LAW TRUTHERS RISE) after plowing you and is pouting when you mention you guys need to get up.

This is not nearly as freaky as I had first thought it to be. Another day then I will bring you something that make Deadpool and Wolverine fans blush.

- ✨️💀✨️

Virgin Law being afraid of a strap is the funniest thing to me, like I can just imagine him making that face he usually does when he’s in complete shock, except now it’s also mixed with a touch of terrified because this colorful piece of silicone is threatening to destroy his hole. It also probably freaks him out that it isn’t real.

Anyways, as for my input, imagine marine hunter, or solo pirate reader actually being the one that helps him get over his fear. He already doesn’t have a good rep with either, but you’re able to smooth talk him enough to get him in a hotel room with you (bonus points if reader has an accent, or is just really fucking good with their words.), only to see how tense and awkward this man is.

You spend like a good 10-15 minutes just calming him down and setting up some boundaries with him, and he’s surprised as fuck because A.) you’re this super dangerous person but you’re actually super sweet?? And B.) you’re one of the first people to take the time to check in constantly with him.

Except at some point it pisses him off how nice you are, you’re balls deep in him and have already checked in with him 3 fucking times! If you don’t just make him scream your god damn name!

And now the fun part is that because you’re a marine hunter/solo pirate you’re usually just wandering from island to island with your own agenda, sometimes you just stop by wherever the fuck Law is now because you’re both in this unlabeled relationship with each other.

Sometimes you get him coins, medical books, more coins, just any gift you’d think he’d appreciate because you like seeing that stupid grin he gets when something he likes is in his hands.

As a thanks he always takes you to his captain quarter, the next morning you’re stumbling out completely dazed and fumbling with your ship as you mumble sweet flustered goodbyes, mean while he looks perfectly fine like you two didn’t spend the entire day exerting yourselves in his bed.

It’s always something new with him too, for a once virgin he can get down and freaky!

But one particular day you guys decided to switch roles, instead he’s on top now and good golly is this man so gentle. It can’t even be considered fucking anymore, this man is practically making genuine love to you.

Not that you’re mad about it, especially when you spew whispered praises about how he’s doing so good, or how he’s filling you up so well, and you can see his skin prickling with goosebumps in a good way.

Whimpering as he melts under your soft words, the soft sex somehow becoming even softer?! It’s great.

And when both of you are satisfied and done he’s laying his head on top of your chest and just resting, burying himself as far as he can between your tits. If you even try to protest this 6 foot almost 200 pound man just gets grumpy, plus all it gets him to do is close his arms around your waist and pull you even closer to him, burrowing himself even further in your chest like he’s trying to fuse with you.

It’s kind of cute, but also nasty because you’re both so sweaty, plus your legs are dripping with drying lube and cum and you terribly badly want to shower.

The only way you’re getting him off of you is if you physically pull him off and carry him to the bathtub. Yes you have to fill it with water, yes you have to wash him, and yes he is once more all up on your fucking boobs again.

It doesn’t matter if you’re on his lap or he’s on yours, either way you’re dealing with this until you have to clean your chest, or his face.

Best believe afterwards all he’s doing is putting some boxers on, you have to change the bedsheets and after that his cozying himself all up on you, he is the little spoon no objections.

On a side note, this idea get even 10x funnier if instead reader is already apart of a crew. He knows that you’re loyal to your captain and all but like… c’mon, he’s so much better!

It’s even WORSE if your captain is Luffy or Kidd, this man is not accepting it. What do they have that he can’t literally do 100x better 😒.

Join him instead… pretty please… with a cherry on top??

—

I love this freak, please never stop talking about him with me 🙏.

Also as a Deadpool and Wolverine fan I take this as a challenge, hit me with the freakiest shot you got.

[seiberries]

loving blue lock boys as ts songs : hcs

includes: isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, nagi, reo, rin warnings: none really! just light swearing. let me know if you guys want a part 2!!

isagi yoichi - lover

isagi yoichi who loves like he came straight out of a classic romantic comedy. he says the right things, he does what he needs to and more- he loves you completely. he’s absolutely perfect, so what could you do for him?

at night, the feeling of insecurity would creep up to you- even with him on the other side of the bed. you were sure he wanted you, but sometimes, you just couldn’t understand why.

fortunately, your boyfriend is incredibly observant. he had been watching your actions, how you were somewhat distancing yourself. he spoke up after a few minutes. you told him why, and he just couldn’t comprehend it. how do you feel like exact same way he feels about you?

he held you close all evening, not letting you out of his grasp. isagi loved one person, and he was gonna make damn sure you knew it was you. just you, his lover.

bachira meguru - fearless

bachira meguru who makes you feel free. you can do anything with him by your side, even wilder things you’d never do beforehand, even things you would’ve found ridiculous in the past. he brings out a stronger side of you.

on your first date, it rained and poured all of a sudden. you were upset at the unfortunate happening, but bachira saw things differently. that evening, you two danced in the rain- laughing and giggling as you twirled each other around. it was going to be a core memory of yours, for sure.

bachira even gave you a piggyback going home to your place, he helped you dry off before taking his leave and thanking you.

it was then that his fearlessness affected you, as you leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek. only he could encourage you to make such a bold move.

chigiri hyoma - gorgeous

chigiri hyoma who is frustratingly pretty. seriously, how much time did the gods spend on him? it annoys you. his red hair, his soft skin, his perfume that’s vanilla scented- it pisses you off.

that’s why, when you made eye contact with him during his team’s celebration, you cursed mentally. to distract yourself, you went around the room, talking to everyone but him. you couldn’t bring yourself to speak with the panther-like boy.

in a few hours, having too much to drink, you swayed around the crowd with a pink face. chigiri caught you in his arms then. until when were you going to ignore him? your boyfriend, who you argued with before the party. he wouldn’t accept your comments on how attractive he was, and you got... angry? you showed said anger through avoiding him. how could he deny your compliments? it genuinely upset you.

spitting half-meant insults at him, the red-head rolled his eyes as he bid his teammates goodbye, taking you to the car. if being with him meant seeing his stupid, gorgeous face everyday, maybe you wouldn’t mind.

kunigami rensuke - hey stephen

kunigami rensuke who is so easy to adore. though initially intimidating, it’s obvious to all how good his heart is. you’d call him an angel, and he’d call you one in return.

he’s so good, you can’t help but hold back sometimes. with his career on the rise, you don’t want to distract him. you don’t want to be in the way. as a result, you start subconsciously avoiding the love of your life. he doesn’t approve of it one bit.

kunigami worries, did he do something? he knew he had changed since wildcard- but his love for you never did, ever. you were his motivation. he confronts you about it, terrified you might not want him anymore. the possibility scares the shit out of him.

but it wasn’t the case, you still want him more than anything. you explain how you much you love him, the way he walks, talks, and says your name. you could write songs. in your rambling, you fail to notice how close he gets to you- until he presses his lips against yours. you really are an angel to him.

nagi seishiro - sweet nothing

nagi seishiro who is the definition of comfortable silence. neither you or him expect much of each other, even being in the same room is a love language you two share. he lies his head down on your lap, while you watch tv or read a book. moments like that are priceless to you two.

the outside world is noisy and messy, you’re reminded of it quite often. whether through the news or from personal experience, you know how frantic life can become. sometimes, the chaos becomes too tiring for you, who’s too soft for it all.

you come home, exhausted, to see your boyfriend in the kitchen. he knows, he always does. wrapping his arms around your figure, tears start falling from your eyes as he silently pats your back in comfort.

though nagi is quiet, you can hear the sweet nothings from the way his heart beat with yours. you wouldn’t have it any other way.

mikage reo - mine

mikage reo who has had everything handed to him on a silver platter, besides his career- and you, of course. you were an incredibly careful person, and he was a person who could be reckless if he wanted to be. you walked slowly, and he ran through as many obstacles as possible. you hated the taunts of life, while he found them exciting.

those differences were but minor factors to the two of you, though. they brought you closer despite the fights, despite the arguments. you were both meant for each other, connected by the universe.

reo was sure of all this, but was especially reassured when he saw the moving trucks approach the house he had purchased. he watched as the workers unloaded an assortment of furniture from the vehicles. a new beginning was to start, with you next to him.

you sat down next to each other, positioning yourselves on a red couch temporarily placed on your driveway. this new beginning relied on you both.

itoshi rin - ours

itoshi rin who thinks of you even as he gets on the plane for another game abroad. he hates leaving you, he truly does- and you hate it too, it was mutual. but you couldn’t stop him from leaving every other week.

your days go by slowly without his sharp remarks and icy glares, you even start to miss the word “lukewarm”. but you’d wait, there was no way you wouldn’t. he was more than worth waiting for, no matter how many times he had to go.

you’re laying on your bed when you hear the door of your apartment open, footsteps can be heard running towards your bedroom. the door is briskly opened to reveal your boyfriend, seemingly out of breath. he wasn’t supposed to be home yet, but you were ecstatic to see him.

after a moment of eye-contact, he knelt before you. it was then that he promised to marry you, he wasn’t gonna leave you alone ever again. fuck, he couldn’t bare it. the life rin lived was no longer just his, but yours too.

[aerodaltonimperial]

"I want to fall asleep wrapped in your arms" prompt with sweet soft looking Jack. Pleae don't let it end sad, my soul can't take that rn.

(i got you, girl 💚🧡 cause i know you like it)

Hook is... not an expert in this. He is probably, in fact, the worst person that could be here for this. And yet here he is, staring up at the ceiling in the shared hotel room, listening to Jack straight up have a panic attack in the opposite bed. What the fuck is he supposed to be doing here? They just teamed up, like three weeks ago, and he doesn't have a handle on this, and he's starting to realize now, listening to Jack's breathing get thin and wheezing but muffled, because Jack's trying his best to disguise it, that all those times Jack sort of went silent halfway through a text conversation were probably this. Like, exactly this.

Shit. Hook can't lie here and listen to the guy have a complete breakdown, but he also doesn't know what he should do. He freezes, because he's shit in emergency situations, and after a few moments, he manages to get out a choked sort of, "Jack."

Jack, on the other bed, makes a noise that's caught somewhere between a sob and a terrified whine, and holy fuck, this is bad. This is, like, Christopher's ankle bone just snapped mid-way across the lacrosse pitch bad. Finally, Hook's limbs obey his commands as he climbs out of the bed and crosses the space separating them.

"Jack," he tries again. Jack's curled up, miserable and shaking, and Hook's pretty sure his breathing is coming so fast he's gonna hyperventilate and pass out in about five seconds. Hook reaches forward, fingers against Jack's bicep. "Jack, it's just me."

Is that the right thing to say? The wrong thing? Fuck, Hook doesn't know, but it seems not to really do anything, and he just can't listen to this. He pulls the blankets up and slides in next to Jack's rattling form, and when he loops his arms around Jack, he gets a startled inhale for his efforts.

"Hey, it's just me," Hook whispers. He's close enough to press his cheek against Jack's ear, feel the wisps of the man's curls against his skin. "It's okay, it's just me."

"I'm sorry," Jack says, warped. It sounds like a battle on the way out, and you know what, Hook's more pissed than upset now. He's fucking pissed that Jack's been put alone in hotel rooms for weeks and weeks after being betrayed by the very people he'd once believed in. He's absolutely furious that so many people allowed Jack to simply... slip out of focus, out of mind.

His arms tighten. God, he's mad. He hauls Jack in closer to his chest and curls his knees behind Jack's, and they lay there like twin commas as Jack struggles to get his breathing back to normal. And when Jack's chest is rising and falling beneath Hook's arms at a more measured pace, when he's no longer wheezing in frantic chestfuls of air, Hook shifts so that he's got his fingers wrapped around Jack's wrist.

"I'm sorry," Jack says again. He's more collected now, and yet the repetition is even worse, filled with self-loathing.

"Don't be. You don't have to be."

"I'm not..." Jack trails off. Hook thinks maybe he'll bolt right outta the bed or something, but he doesn't. He turns over until they're face to face, and there isn't much light in the room, but Hook catches moisture glistening on his cheeks. Fuck. Hook's gonna fucking kill somebody for this. "I'm not like this, usually."

"What, human?" Hook returns. And he doesn't really think about, probably should think about it, when he lifts a hand and swipes his thumb across Jack's face.

"Everyone has left me," Jack says, hushed, almost like he doesn't want the words to escape and can't bite them back. "Everyone leaves."

"I won't," Hook promises. "I won't leave."

"You didn't want this when you came out to help me. You don't need this."

"Bullshit," Hook snorts. "We're a team now, Jack. We're friends."

Jack goes quiet. And then, "We're friends?"

Maybe they aren't. Hook's not really an expert in that, either; all his past friendships seem to have imploded at his feet. But he chose this one, didn't he? He didn't have to do anything, and he had anyway, because he'd wanted to. Jack had needed help, and Hook had wanted to help him.

The same thing is true for tonight.

"We can be," he says, almost a whisper. His hand is still on Jack's face, and he thinks that's probably something he should change. Because this... isn't what friends do, he doesn't think. He'd jumped in without really thinking about it, and now he's having to level with himself as to why.

Jack's eyes are big and bright and reflecting the bit of the street lamp that's filtering in through the curtains. He's impossibly soft here, against the hotel pillow, exhaling against Hook's chin. "Do you want to be?"

"I don't know," Hook says, and it's more honest than he meant it to be.

It's not the answer Jack wanted, it seems, because he wilts a little bit, nodding. "Okay."

"No," Hook says, instinctive. The last thing he wants is for Jack to turn inwards and disappear. "I don't..." Jack's chin falls, and Hook pulls it back up, thumb dipping beneath Jack's jaw. "Jack."

He gets a single moment of wide, startled eyes before he moves. He doesn't really think about it, he just does. He pushes forward to get their mouths aligned, and Jack gasps. And yeah, this is probably why Hook went out that night, offered his hand. But Jack's kissing him back, so they have to be on the same page. Jack's fingers are threading through Hook's hair and he's parting his lips, and at least this time, when he loses his breath, it's for a much better reason than having a panic attack.

"Hook," Jack exhales, light and hot, and he's still grasping at Hook's head, still angling their mouths together.

"I won't leave," Hook says again. Jack fits here, somehow. They fit together on this hotel bed. They fit together in the ring, and they fit together as Hook swallows back all of Jack's aborted little gasps as they end up thoroughly dizzied, kissed dumb.

It isn't until they've broken apart, as their chests are flush together and heaving, that Jack whispers, "Stay here? Please?" His hands slide to the back of Hook's head. "I just. I want to fall asleep like this. With you."

"Okay," Hook says, like that's not exactly what he wanted, too.

Jack turns over again, so they're spooning. God, he's warm. He's warm, and he's soft, and Hook presses one last kiss against Jack's shoulder, into the cotton.

"I'll be here when you wake up." It comes out softer than he anticipated, but Jack must hear it anyway, because he tangles their fingers together, and his palm is warm, too.

"Okay," Jack says.

When they wake up the next morning, they're still entwined. The sunlight streams in onto the pillow and illuminates Jack's errant curls that escaped during the night, and Hook just thinks not friends. They're not friends.

Jack opens his eyes, finds Hook, and smiles, soft and wide.

[itsclydebitches]

This drabble was inspired by @astaribun's list of potential camp interactions. I love them all so much I might do a whole collection <3 Helping companions with their hair after finding a place to bathe. Tav/Gale. 1,591 words.

“Oh yes. A sight so beautiful I’m half tempted to thank the Gods.”

“Speak for yourself, spawn."

There was no bite to the words though and Shadowheart even went so far as to companionably bump Astarion’s shoulder. On the way she pulled the clasps from her hair, tossing them haphazardly towards her pack with a small, wistful smile. “I for one will be thanking Lady Shar tonight."

Lae’zel snorted, working on her boots. “Better you send your prayers to Eldath, ska'keth. Not every blessing is the work of your false idol. In fact, none of them are."

They bickered, almost good-naturedly, waylaid only when Halsin expressed admiration of Lae’zel’s knowledge and Wyll exclaimed at the true length of Shadowheart’s hair, nearly down to her thighs. The truth was that each was more like the other than they’d ever admit—easily distracted by flattery.

Tav had to smile at the eye-roll Jaheira raised to the heavens. That expression hovered for just an instant before Karlach took a running jump into the stream, drenching Jaheira and granting her the appearance of a half-drowned, very pissed-off rat. Tav’s smile turned into a full-blown laugh.

They’d needed this. Not just a place to bathe after days of hiking and battle, but the chance to truly let down their guard, if only for a moment. The stream was deep enough to wade in without the risk of drowning—despite hatching in a creche, Tav suspected Lae’zel had never learned how to swim—and the water was very nearly crystal clear, ensuring that nothing could sneak up on them from the depths. The surrounding fields gave an equally unspoiled view of any approaching figures, they’d already cleared out the goblin camp a few miles back, even the weather was remarkably temperate... Tav felt a tension they hadn’t realized they’d been holding ease out of their shoulders. Karlach’s laughter. The sweet-smelling soap Astarion had filched last week. Piles of armor and weaponry all mingling together in the grass, not a thought to the divisions that had once governed their camp. Tav took a moment to drink in the sights and sounds and smells, terrified that they would disappear; knowing they had to appreciate them now in case they did.

With a deep breath they went to remove their own clothing when something caught their eye. Or rather, the lack of something. The picture wasn’t complete. Twitching, Tav turned until they finally found Gale, hovering beside a nearby rock.

He grimaced at the unspoken question. “Communal bathing isn’t my first choice of indulgence,” he said, voice pitched low. Gale needn’t have bothered. Karlach had dunked Wyll and the resulting chaos would have covered the approaching march of an army. “Call me prudish if you must—or perhaps, more accurately, shocking unhygienic—but we’ve shared all too much of ourselves these last few weeks and some things must be left to the imagination. Or better yet, not!” A slight flush had come into Gale’s cheeks and Tav checked their smile, perceiving that he wouldn’t appreciate it. “I insist upon total privacy in such matters, even from Tara who has known me since childhood. This,” Gale gestured to the revelry, “is simply beyond me. My apologies.” And he bowed.

“Okay,” Tav said. 

They couldn’t see Gale’s face from this angle but they could practically hear the blink of surprise. It was in the stiffening of his shoulders and the slight scuff of his boot against the dirt—like, for just a fraction of a moment, his body thought about stumbling.

“Okay?” he repeated, glancing up.

Tav shrugged. “Yes, okay. You can bathe later if you want, after the others are done. Would you agree to a lookout though? Just over there?” They pointed to the rise in the road where they planned to make camp. Once night fell it would provide an excellent view of the stream without, Tav assumed, giving away any details about what went on there. “None of us should be alone right now—not that you can’t take care of yourself! I Just meant—”

“I know precisely what you meant and your meaning is greatly appreciated.” Gale straightened with a smile. “A sensible and... sensitive compromise. Perhaps, if I could impose on your good will further—?”

“I’d be happy to,” Tav blurted. “Stand watch, I mean.”

There was one horrible moment where they thought Gale hadn’t been about to ask that at all, that the tentative flirting they'd engaged in had all been one-sided, but the almost shy scoff and eventual nod allayed any fears. Great. Perfect. Tav almost made a joke about keeping their eyes to themselves tonight, but they managed to bite down on the impulse at the last moment. They had some tact. On occasion.

The two of them turned back to the group, basking in what was now an image of relaxation and indulgence. Nearly everyone had finished with the perfunctory task of scrubbing off the day’s grime and had turned their attentions to more leisurely activities: sunbathing, floating, in Wyll’s case fishing, using one of the many rods they’d found abandoned near the beach. He didn’t seem to realize that Halsin was subtly steering all the fish away.

It was a peaceful moment. Romantic, even. Tav might have enjoyed it immensely if it weren’t for Gale's constant shifting.

“It is rather uncomfortable,” he finally said, tugging at the collar of his robes. No doubt. Dried blood and mud were bad enough—especially while watching others enjoy a bath—but the day had turned hotter than all the Hells combined and Tav could only assume that Gale was slowly roasting like a ... well, like a better meal than they’d had in some time.

Tav slapped him between the shoulder-blades, nearly sending Gale sprawling. Yup. Sweated through. Yuck.

“C’mon,” they said.

“Where to?”

“Trust me.”

It was a good thing they were already making their way down the bank because Gale’s, “Ah. That’s easy to do” sent a blush racing high up their cheeks. They continued on though, stoic, pausing only to lift a hand to the many sharp eyes following their movement. Everything was fine and at Tav’s gesture the others relaxed, returning to their leisure.

Tav led Gale a little ways down the stream until they had a good mix of safety and privacy going on. Nodding, they finally began peeling away their armor, gesturing for Gale to do the same.

“Just the outer robe,” they said. “Shoes too, if you’re comfortable.”

Within moments they were both barefoot, Gale soaking his feet in the water with a heavenly sigh. It was tempting to join him, but Tav had other plans in mind.

“Tell me if I do something you don’t like,” they said, bending to scoop some of the water into their hands.

“Oh, I hardly doubt it will come to that.”

“Tell me anyway.”

At Gale’s hum of assent Tav let the water flow over the top of his head, down through the strands of hair until it stained the top of his shirt. The position was a little awkward. Tav was forced to lean into Gale every time they reached for more water—chest pressed to back, arm to arm, wet hair curling up to tease Tav’s cheek. They didn’t mind at all.

Truly, they’d meant it simply as a way to cool down, for Gale to rinse a bit without loss of dignity, but as soon as they’d set to the task Tav found that there was plenty to do and the work more than satisfactory. They gently teased the mud from Gale’s hair, strand by strand, rubbing each carefully between thumb and forefinger until the texture was smooth as silk. Nails worked in lieu of a comb, separating out knots and tangles and the touch of the wind, digging occasionally into his scalp. As they worked, Tav took note of where the sun had kissed Gale’s hair, leaving light streaks where weeks ago there had been only chestnut brown. They memorized the waves the water created and the image of droplets clinging to individual strands. They marked where the longest hit Gale’s back and wondered if he’d want it trimmed soon. More pressingly, Tav wondered if Gale would let them do it.

Somehow, the prospect of Gale trusting them with a knife at his neck was... alluring.

Another time, perhaps. When there was privacy.

“Better?” they asked, grinning a bit as Gale slumped bonelessly towards their hands, the cuffs of his pants now lapping at the water.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “No one has treated me this gently since—well, since my mother used to do the same.”

Tav snorted. “First your cat and now your mother? You really know how to woo an individual...”

It was a gamble, acknowledging their... thing so overtly. Gale only smiled though, eyes shut, a touch of haughtiness pulling at his cheeks. “My tressym, thank you very much, and I’ll have you know that both are brilliant, formidable beings whose comparison should honor you.” Then his eyes opened, so soft in their hesitance. “Although... I am admittedly out of practice, particularly when it comes to wooing troublesome and breathtaking mortals, so you’ll just have to correct me if I falter. Alas, another responsibility I've placed on your shoulders.”

A question, one Tav had known the answer to for some time.

“I can bear the weight.”

Within the sound of camaraderie and the cool touch of water, Tav guided Gale’s head back until it rested fully in their hands. They held him up, fully, and pressed a kiss against his forehead, salty sweet.

[midnightsunnyday]

A Grand Admiral's Job Is Never Done (Part Two)

Part One Masterlist

********

*Leviathan, walking and reading over his papers*

Leviathan: budgeting meetings, emails  *sighs* and that was just from this morning. Formalities aside, being here just reminds me of what a total loser I am. I used to be important, you know? Like, I actually led fleets and planned wars and...blew things up! Now I'm just some worthless otaku that not even Vepar takes seriously. "Oh, Grand Admiral Leviathan, to what do we owe the pleasure? I assume your consoles and...animu weren't an adequate substitute for actual naval combat?" Uncultured asshole.

Petty Officer Halphas: ah, good morning, Grand Admiral Leviathan.

Leviathan: (great, not him again. Seriously, I may be a shut-in, but this guy needs to seriously touch grass. I mean, he may look like your typical normie. Could probably make a few friends, get invited to parties, model a few products, and maybe even have a lover if he wanted, but he's so...uncanny. That and he's always talking! To me! Seriously, why is he coming closer? Would it be weird if I just ran away? Made an excuse? Dammit, I've been in my own mind too long! Now I have no choice. Must...force...self...into...social...interaction...) Petty Officer Halphas. Good to see you. Tell me, how are the new recruits this year?

Petty Officer Halphas: *smiles like a creep* do you really want me to answer that question, sir?

Leviathan: I...uh--

Petty Officer Halphas: --because JESUS FUCKING FIRE PISSING CHRIST just what kind of demons are they sending me these days anyway? Just yesterday I had 13 RECRUITS pass out after only spending THREE MINUTES in the GOD DAMN lava pool! THREE MINUTES! And the NEXT DEMON that CRIES to me about having to spend a night in the OBLIVION CHAMBER is getting their legs snapped off and beaten with them! Of course, staring into the face of death is terrifying. THAT'S THE POINT OF THE DAMN CHAMBER.

Leviathan: is...that right? *laughs nervously* Honestly, out of all the POs, I expected you to have the least trouble with...motivation (seriously, why was he promoted)?

Petty Officer Halphas: you would think so. Yet apparently, my training tactics are too "intensive" and "barbaric." Please. You want to talk about hell? My entire division had to trudge through the primordial forests--

Leviathan: --with no water, no food. Just our wits and the beads of sweat between our folds for 30 days, as you've told me more than once (more like 30 times! I can't believe I'm missing the 24-hour TSL movie marathon for this. Life is so unfair).

Petty Officer Halphas: I just don't get it, sir. A thousand years ago, the average demon sailor could kill a man in cold blood and snap off an angel's wings with their bare hands. Now Lord Diavolo is calling for peace and creating an exchange program with ANGELS of all beings and forcing demons to adopt these things called...MORALS. I mean, what are we, HUMANS?

Leviathan: one doesn't need to be human to have a code of honor, Halphas. It does one no favors to spread needless chaos and violence (had to channel my inner Lord Diavolo on that one).

Petty Officer Halphas: no offense, sir, but that's pretty much what demons are. Why go against nature?

Leviathan: maybe Lord Diavolo wants us to know that we're more than just our nature. Maybe all beings, regardless of where and how they came to be, have the ability to change (even if we don't believe it ourselves...).

Petty Officer Halphas: *scoffs* you know, I thought joining Hell's Navy and rising through the ranks would be fun. But everything is so boring now. And since I can't use them to harass the guppies anymore, my beautiful armory full of weapons is doing nothing but gathering dust *sighs* I was definitely born in the wrong era.

Leviathan: (yeah, this dude is definitely warped. Though I can sympathize with the being bored part). Tell me, what is it about war that fascinates you so much?

Petty Officer Halphas: *with an unnerving look in his eyes* everything! The tactics, the artillery, the smell of fear and chaos. The power of being able to control every single piece upon the field, knowing that one wrong move could destroy your entire fleet. The feeling of holding someone's life in your hands and watching it drain from their eyes...

Leviathan: (maybe I should talk to Lord Diavolo about implementing some kind of psychological evaluation checks...)

Petty Officer Halphas: ...mock fights and training sessions just aren't enough. I NEED to experience the real thing! You understand, right, Grand Admiral? After all, you were there! You know what it feels like! What it looks like! You and Captain Vepar. His stories about fighting in the Great War are exhilarating. I only wish I was there to see him during his prime! I bet it was amazing.

Leviathan: ...tell me, Petty Officer Halphas, are you really this much of a heartless moron?

Petty Officer Halphas: what? Grand Admiral--

Leviathan: you have the potential of doing great things, Halphas, yet you're wasting them by being nothing more than an uncaring bastard. Do you really think showing so little value and regard for life including your own is something to aspire to? Is killing and death all you really care for?

Petty Officer Halphas: it's...kind of all I know, sir. Unlike the Devildom, living in one of the nine circles isn't exactly...pleasant.

Leviathan: war isn't a game and your men's lives aren't NPCs. Real war is horrifying, even more than the nine circles. There is no limit to the acts of cruelty one can enact and it comes with heavy sacrifices. More importantly, your men have to trust you to lead them. Tell me, Halphas, do you think anyone would trust you with anything as you are now?

Petty Officer Helphas: ...I'm sorry, Grand Admiral Leviathan. It was never my intention to offend.

Leviathan: I know you look up to Captain Vepar, after all, he's a formidable leader, yet don't let his stories of glory and triumph fool you. There were also many unmentioned failures. I should know...considering I caused most of them.

Petty Officer Halphas: you...you went to battle with Captain Vepar? And lived?

Leviathan: well, you don't have to look THAT shocked. How about this? The next time you meet Captain Vepar, ask him about the battle of Cocytus and the reason why I allowed him to sail away alive (lololol. That one always pisses him off).

Petty Officer Halphas: wow, Grand Admiral Leviathan, I mean...to be honest, I kind of just assumed you were some otaku streaming games on Deviltube all day, but you're way more hardcore than I thought! By the way, did you get my friend request yet? I'm not accusing you of anything, it's just that you probably get so many you didn't see mine. Oh, and my username is DoveofDeath--

Leviathan: --regardless (you little shit) of how you or any of the officers feel about my status, I didn't get this title by playing games all day. I've been leading operations and conducting strategies centuries before you were even a thought. My track record is highly consistent, whether it's taught as part of history or not, there's a reason why I stand as your superior. Do well to remember that.

Petty Officer Halphas: woah. Uh, I mean, yes sir, Grand Admiral Leviathan, sir!

Leviathan: and also...JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM ANYWAY, THE FRIEND YOU DON'T HAVE? SERIOUSLY, DOES EVERY ASSHOLE ON THIS SHIT STAIN OF A BASE HAVE NOTHING TO DO BUT TALK OUT OF THEIR ASS ABOUT GLORY'S PAST AND JERK THEMSELVES OFF TO EVERY HOMICIDAL PSYCHOPATHIC FANTASY THEY HAVE? FOR FUCKS SAKE, JUST GET A HOBBY.

Petty Officer Halphas: um...am I the homicidal psychopath in this situation, sir?

Leviathan: just...go do your job, Halphas. At least prove why you deserve to keep your position here.

Petty Officer Halphas: right, of course, sir. But before that, are you still going to accept my friend request or...

Leviathan: *groans loudly and pulls out his DDD* so it's DoveofDeath, right?

Petty Officer Halphas: *grins* actually, it's DoveofDeath38, sir.

Leviathan: ah, right. There you are. Oh...so you do have a friend's list. A pretty active one, too.

Petty Officer Halphas: oh, yeah. I'm kind of a big deal in the Strings of Battle community, but not as big as you, of course. My girlfriend also watches your channel, too, by the way. You're her favorite Deviltuber!

Leviathan: *grins through the pain* is that so?

*MC and Diavolo, still hiding*

MC: that officer guy is kind of intense, but also kind of lame.

Diavolo: *laughs* Petty Officer Halphas has always had an interesting aura about him, even as a recruit. Though I think it may be time to have a bit of a talk about his...current psychological state.

MC: agreed. But Levi just seems so...assured *pouts* I can't believe that nerd! He's been holding out on me!

Diavolo: let's follow him further, shall we?

******

Petty Officer Halphas

Halphas rose through the ranks quickly, as he's shown quite the competency for battle due to his uncanny ability to identify, equip, and accurately use any and every weapon imaginable (though especially firearms). Even the things that aren't weapons become them in Halphas's grasp.

Yet like Vepar, Halphas is bored with peace, and with no wars to fight, has lost most of his motivation to go any further than his current rank. After hearing and reading stories from wars' past, he waits (impatiently) for the day he can test his skills on the battlefield for real, instead of on his fellow sailors (who are thankfully immortal) and in his favorite war games. Despite having never been in one, Halphas is certain he'd be amazing during battle.

Tends to speak in a hoarse voice due to his smoking habit (though the fact that he's always yelling doesn't help either). In charge of torturing training junior sailors. Really wants to be Leviathan's friend.

Sin: sloth

Likes: quality cigars, architecture, playing video games, bird watching.

Dislikes: boredom, disorganization, cats, sweet things, showing weakness.

[x-ceirios-x]

falling even more in love with you

aric has spent most of his life alone and can't fathom the idea that mollie cares about him like he does her. fortunately, mollie is a lot bolder than he is.

cw: some mild cursing. very fluffy

Aric stared at the textbooks in front of him, staring at the letters but not actually reading. These diagrams didn't make sense in the least—he wasn’t a good student before he got to the academy and he surely wouldn’t be now. In his frustration, he fell forward, laying his head on the book. Then he proceeded to hit his head against it several times. 

He heard Jeremy snicker from his bed across the room. “I don’t think information-via-osmosis violence is going to help you remember any of this for this quiz tomorrow.”

He paused and turned his head to glare at his best friend. “Don’t use your fancy biology words at me.”

Jeremy laughed from next to him and stood up—the next thing he knew, he was hitting the mattress with his forehead instead of the textbook. He closed it and placed it next to him, then sat on the bed. “You wanna talk about it? This is obviously not about a quiz.” Aric looked at him funny, so he laughed and continued, “look, I know you don’t do touchy-feely, let’s-talk-about-our-feelings, but I have four younger siblings. Which means I’m a certified therapist.”

He rolled his eyes at him and sighed. “I dunno, man. It’s all stupid.”

“I forget, sometimes, that you don’t know how to communicate your feelings.” He stood and grabbed his sketchbook off of the nightstand next to him. “You work better in pictures anyway. I’m going to get a shower, and when I come back I want to see whatever is bothering you.” 

He glared at him for a second, but he didn’t leave much room for argument. Once he left the room, he finally did as he asked—he opened the sketchbook and started doodling. It started with flowers and little jewels, coming up with little things he’d love to paint on the wall outside Mayhew’s room to piss him off. Then the jewels turned into circles, swirls, strange shapes he wasn’t quite thinking about, when he realized he’d drawn half of the Moral Cup. 

The Ascension was in a few weeks. He was nervous as hell—tensions kept rising between their classmates and he was concerned Valentine and the lightwoods were going to do something stupid. Then again, Valentine Morgenstern was always stupid and deserved the broken nose. 

Moreso, he was worried for himself. If he wasn’t ready—if whatever angels didn’t accept him—he wouldn’t survive. And he was terrified. It was like looking death in the face at seventeen and leaving it up to fate if he’d take him. He didn’t want to leave the shadow world—since he started at the academy, his entire life changed around. He expected to barely graduate high school, maybe drop out, and end up involved with some less-than-respectable things to make money. That was just the area he grew up in, despite his mom doing her best. He’d made great friends, started actually working at school, found things that were fun and not just surviving through life. He didn’t want to leave Jeremy or Céline, and certainly not Mollie. 

Mollie.

She was driving him crazy. They’d all go to lunch outside and he’d spend the entire time watching her, looking at her smile and making sure she laughed first when he told a joke. Recently, she’d been complaining about her hair getting too long and she liked to put up her curls with a few pencils. She took notes for their history class in blue pen and Downworld relations in black. All classes required at least one purple highlighter and a red pen to doodle in the corner. He watched as she desperately practiced for an extra hour after training, simply wanting the best at everything she did. And every day they ate dinner and studied, and his notebook was full of little red doodles as she explained things. She liked to dance in her free time, though she self-admittedly had the grace of an elephant outside of training. She was always trying something new and interesting, setting trends or getting weird looks among classmates without a care in the world. Everything she did, to him, was nothing short of beautiful. 

He didn’t have the time to think about her with everything going on, but that didn’t stop him most days. He was seventeen now and he just needed to survive the Ascension so he could start collecting a salary from the Clave and send money to his mother back home. That was his promise—he’d go off to this “boarding school” over in Europe and spend a few years there, and he was guaranteed a good job afterward, and would be able to send her money to save to get out of the city. He didn’t have the time to worry about anything else, or so he kept telling himself. 

Jeremy walked back in after a while, hair damp and in pajamas. He sat down on the bed next to him and glanced over his shoulder. “How’d I guess,” he said, amusement clear in his voice and on his face in the way he smirked. “You have to talk to her.”

Aric looked at the paper where he’d started a (very rough) sketch of Mollie on the paper. Realism and portraits were never really his thing, but hey, you could tell who it was. Maybe he was getting better at it. He turned his head to glare at Jeremy for a second and tossed the sketchbook to the bottom of the bed. “I’m not talking to anyone.”

He rolled his eyes and elbowed him in the arm. “I watch how you look at her. It’s…it’s ridiculous at this point. You look like a lovesick puppy.”

“I do not—“

He looked at him in a way that indicated there was no argument to be had here. Eyebrows raised, daring him to try to refute. Aric muttered a string of curse words in Spanish that would have gotten a shoe or a wooden spoon thrown at him at home and sighed. “You’re annoying,” he said, giving the only argument he could come up with.

He scoffed and got up, returning to his own bed. “And you’re incredibly stubborn for no reason. For being someone that I’ve known to never be afraid of anything, you’re pretty afraid of rejection, Aric.”

He stared for a second, watching Jeremy get comfortable and open his book for the evening. That was his signal that he was ready to be done people-ing for the day, as he said, and he should shut up. So he did, tossing his books on the floor and deciding he’d clean them up in the morning. He laid down, deciding he could fall asleep and deal with his problems tomorrow. 

***

“You’re fidgeting,” 

Aric looked up and stopped spinning his pencil. He was getting anxious the more he sat reading the stupid book in front of him, understanding nothing about these different kinds of demons. He didn’t care—everything died with a seraph blade eventually. And the names weren’t in languages he recognized, most of them are old, he had no idea how to pronounce half of the words on the page, and he couldn’t think clearly. 

Mollie placed her hand over his, sliding the book away with her other one. “Talk to me,” she said, turning towards him. “I don’t care about coursework. You’re anxious.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, looking over her hand and trying to continue reading the book. “This stuff just doesn’t make sense. I’ll read it again, it’ll click eventually—“

The glare she gave him cut him off. With a much gentler tone, she said, “what have I told you about pushing yourself? If you can’t do more than twenty minutes of this at once, don’t do it. Let’s take a break.”

He laid his head in his hand, leaving hers still (he wouldn’t admit how much he liked her holding his hand), and sighed. “It’s worthless. I’m never going to understand all this.”

“Hey,” she said, pulling his chair and spinning him towards her. “It’s not worthless. You are not worthless, you’re just not doing what you’re good at. Your brain doesn’t work for…what are you even doing—“ she looked at the book, then his notebook, then back to him— “demonology or whatever. And that’s completely fine. We learned a while ago that you just don’t work like other people, and it’s fine.  You work in pictures, you work in art, Aric, and it’s beautiful.”

He stared at her for a moment, mouth slightly open in shock, too many thoughts for him to process racing through his mind to process everything she just said. She’d always told him it was fine that he didn’t think like everyone else—that he couldn’t think like everyone else. It didn’t bother her and she had the patience to work with him. It turned into an unlikely friendship—the school rebel and the straight-A, perfect princess. He knew she was never shallow like some of the kids he dealt with before the academy, but she was perfect. 

Mollie was smart—not just smart, but clever. He remembered her and Jeremy working on some law class and sitting in the courtyard next to Céline, listening to the two of them debate about whatever their assignment was for practice during class. The two went back and forth for an hour, only stopping when she finally found a loophole in his argument and he conceded. 

She was kind—kinder than anyone he’d seen. He watched as she helped new recruits during training and showed them new techniques she had a handle on. She stopped to help wounded animals in the woods and caught spiders with a cup instead of squishing them. The only true aggression he’d ever seen from her was during training, and even that she did with a smile. 

Mollie was strong in so many ways. At seventeen, she continued to prove to her siblings she could carry one of them under each arm (Patrick hated it, Gunny loved it), and even proved she could pick him up a few weeks prior. When he got there he was a scrawny kid, but he was pretty solid after 3-4 years of training, so it was impressive. She showed her strength in her resilience as well—no matter what came at her, she found a way through it. Fights with Céline, the loss of her mother when she was young—she was a fighter and he admired her for it. 

She insisted he was the beautiful one, but he knew it was just the opposite. 

It was a quick moment—one second he was staring at her, awe-struck, and the next he was kissing her. That was quick, too. He pulled away almost immediately, cursing himself for making such a rash decision without thinking. He didn’t have time to process the mistake he made, though, because she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in again. In an instant, he felt her lips on his and everything felt right. Her chapstick tasted like lemon candy. His heart was beating out of his chest, but her grip slowly loosened on his shirt and he found himself holding her face—gentle, like she was porcelain. 

After what felt like too much but not enough time, she pulled away, a grin wide on her face. Her eyes lit up when she smiled—maybe it was just the fact that he looked at her so much, but her green eyes shined in a way he couldn’t describe. It was his favorite color. 

“I was wondering when you were going to do that,” she said, inching her chair a little closer to his. The sun was beginning to set through the library windows behind her, creating a halo of orangey-red around her. He watched as she fiddled with the ring she kept on her hands—a small, delicate thing decorated with a light blue gem and butterflies. Céline had gifted it to her a long time ago. 

He stared blankly, looking at her with a kind of anxious excitement he hadn’t felt before. “You…you what?”

She chuckled. “I’ve only been flirting with you for…four months? At least that’s been the serious flirting.”

He stared again. Jeremy was right and he was never going to hear the end of it. “I—I guess I didn’t-“

“It’s alright,” she said, brushing her hair through his hair. He felt her nails scratch across his skin and shuddered, though he hoped it wasn’t obvious. Being so close to her was nothing short of intoxicating and breathtaking all in the same way. “I was beginning to wonder if you were giving me the cold shoulder because you weren’t interested.”

He swallowed, trying to find the words to respond. “No, I—no. Definitely not that.”

She rested her hand on the side of his face, thumb brushing over his cheek. “I meant what I said, Aric. I think you’re amazing.”

He could feel his face heating up in embarrassment. “I need you to stop talking,”

They both laughed. It was good to laugh—he’d been so stressed lately that he hadn’t felt really happy about something in a little while. But sitting with Mollie was so easy—she relaxed his nerves, even if he was on edge for other reasons (like trying not to embarrass himself in front of her). 

She dropped her hand and happened to glance at the clock—he watched as she did a double take and rushed to stand up. “I am so sorry—I promised Céline that I’d help her tonight because she’s going to some gala in Idris this weekend. And I’m, like, fifteen minutes late.”

Aric chuckled at her comment and waved it off. “I’ll hang here for a while and try to review. Thanks for the help tonight.”

She gathered her things and shoved them into the messenger bag that was slung over her shoulder. “Anytime,” she said rather breathlessly before running off. Less than a second later she was back; she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then ran off again. 

He muttered a couple curse words under his breath—an array of Spanish that would have put a sailor to shame. If it didn’t kill him first, he thought things with her—wherever their relationship was going—would be a great thing.

[bloodiedlamb]

PROLOGUE.

✩⭑ In the weeks following Charlie’s birthday, she’s got a confrontation to make, one that’ll alter the course of her and her brother’s lives for the remainder of them.

⭑ rafe cameron x fem!oc

✩ 0.609k words.

⭑ jail visit, narcissistic parent, hints at death, cussing, anxiety.

✩ hey guys, so i’ve been super excited about this for a minute now, and i’m finally able to work on it! i have big (painful) plans for this series and i’m hoping y’all stick with me through it. reminder that this chapter takes place 3 years before the canon starting date of the show!!

⭑ HOME BY MIDNIGHT. | NEXT CHAPTER.

✩ BETA READ + EDITED BY @porcelainmind

THREE YEARS AGO…

The doors to the visiting room swing open with a clank loud enough to make her cringe. She waits, hardly patient, for the man to come slinking down the corridor to his seat.

“You cut your hair.” He says, a casual statement to undermine the fact that he was seeing his daughter for the first time in years. His eyes are heavier than she remembers, a few new scars adorning his cheekbones. He’s missing a tooth and his voice is gruffer. It’s as though he’d aged fifteen years.

“Got bored.” She shrugs, her jaw set and her eyes void of anything that would give him satisfaction. “How are they treating you here?”

“Like a Mutt at the Pound,” he grimaces sarcastically, “How are they treating you out there, Honey?” It’s cute, the way he’s still trying to act like a parent after everything he’s done.

“Like a whore in Church,” she snides back. “Look, I don’t have time for small-talk, alright, Dad?”

“I know,” he sends her a cold smile, “Just wanted to see how long you’d last. What do you need?”

“I need you to sign over your parental rights of Sam to me.” The man’s brows raise, and he leans back with crossed arms. Out of all the things that Michael Mason’s daughter could’ve asked him, this wasn’t what he expected.

“Really?” He snorts, “Never pegged you for the Motherly type.”

A low blow, considering the events that occurred over the last three years.

“Piss off. Are you gonna sign or not?”

He blinks at her. Once. Twice. Three times, before leaning further back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head comfortably. “Maybe, what’s in it for me?”

She scoffs, “I knew this shit was a waste of fucking time. See you in court, asshole.” She rises quickly, tugging her jacket on tighter before he speaks again, catching her off guard.

“I’ll sign it, Charlotte.”

The girl, freshly eighteen, pauses and glares at him. It could be a trick, she knows, nothing’s ever what it seems with the man.

“I’m serious. No strings attached.”

“Fine,” she sits back down and motions for the guard to set down the papers that she’d initially brought in with her. “Sign it then.”

Michael pauses for a moment, then sighs and signs it. When he looks up, it’s almost as though he seems saddened by the state of affairs, but she’s sure she’s imagined it. He gives a bittersweet smile, one most would take as genuine, but she knows better.

“What, no ‘Thanks, Dad, you’re the best’?”

“I hope you rot in here, Mike,” she rolls her eyes and rises again, this time much slower than before.

“Bye, Charlie.”

She doesn’t bother to reply, instead keeping her gaze straight ahead as she makes her way back out of the Visitor’s Hall and down through the lobby until she reaches her car. Sam sits patiently in the front seat, headphones plugged into his ears as he blares rock from his IPod. The last thing his Mother ever gifted him.

He looks up at the sight of his sister, a nervous glint to his eyes, “How’d it go?”

Charlie hands him the pages, her hands shaking as her stomach churns. She’d been anticipating this ten minute conversation for nearly a month and a half since she turned eighteen and was terrified of what might happen. “Better than I thought.”

“He signed?” Sam sounds excited, but Charlie can’t miss the underlying grief in his tone.

“He knew there wasn’t any other choice.”

“Right.”

“You ready for the first day of the rest of our lives?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

TAGLIST.

@blondedmuse @surprisenecromancy @bruiseology @porcelainmind

[coolgirl32]

DC Injustice League guys x My OC nightmare. remember I'm doing a part one and part two of the Injustice League guys you know the ones I like I'm not doing the ones I don't like you'll know when you find out also what I find funny is how a guy screams like a girl and when a girl he's going on a date with ask him did he scream like a girl and he says no because he's too prideful he doesn't want to admit that he screamed like a little girl 🤣🤣🤣 also Just that you all know that all the villains are very terrified of nightmare for a reason and same with the heroes as well cuz my OC nightmare AKA Jacqulyn is very scary but she's very sweet not too bad guys though

Black manta

The first time she slept with him. was at his secret lair. he was thinking of an evil plan on how to destroy Aquaman and rule over Atlantis. That's when nightmare appeared, it scared him so much that he screamed like a little girl. (🤣 Sorry I couldn't resist) he cleared up his throat and asked her what is she doing in his evil lair, she told him that she's very horny and she wants him to fuck her. Inside his mask his eyes widen in shock. He didn't ask any questions and didn't hesitate to get naked. He really didn't want to make nightmare mad I mean no one really wanted to make her mad because of who she was and what she does. So when nightmare took off her dress but kept her mask and cloak on, his eyes widen he thought that she was pretty butt she was very beautiful he then looked at her rest. When she looked at his boner she smiled and began to stroke him. (Do you like getting your cock stroke by a hero) she asked, he nodded his head yes. When she went over to his desk she used her magic abilities to lift everything up except the desk and put somewhere safe. She didn't bend over and told him to fuck her. he didn't hesitate to fuck her. For the past hour nightmare has been having lots of orgasms. When Black Manta came inside her. She told him to never tell anyone about this effort as long as he lived and he agreed well still being scared of her and she left

The Riddler

The first time she slept with him, was when he tried to trap nightmare in a maze give her all these riddles, (okay there are two things wrong with this 1 The Riddler shouldn't really trap nightmare in a maze and give her all these stupid riddles and 2 you should know to not piss off the most scariest hero of the DC universe) so of course The Riddler had to be a fucking dumbass because he thought he could trick nightmare Oh but he was wrong oh so wrong. So of course nightmare teleported to wear Riddler was. And when he turned around and looked at her he saw that her face and her eyes were screaming ultimate rage, basically he can see her blood pressure rising. He thought she was going to kill him but no something much worse for him at least. But for her oh it is the best revenge she could ever think of. With a mischievous smile on her face she snapped her fingers. When he woke up he realized that he was tied up and naked. Nightmare walked in and Riddler saw a table full of BDSM stuff. When he realized that he had a ball gag in his mouth. Nightmare was wearing fake leather boots and fake leather skin suit and her mask still on. The Riddler wanted to ask her why is he on a chair and tied up before he knew it. Nightmare smacked him on his legs with a whip. (Silence you little fool I'm in charge here) nightmare said, nightmare then begin to sexually torture The Riddler. When she snapped her fingers the Riddler's eyes were wide because he saw a sex machine with a dildo attached to it. She then snapped her fingers again and The Riddler was being fucked by a machine. Hours later he woke up and found a letter saying don't piss me off ever again. The Riddler learned his lesson that day. He learned a few things about himself that day 1 he really likes being dominated by a strong woman. and 2 he likes being pegged

The music Meister

When she first slept with him. it was daring a mission nightmare went on, of course music Meister was trying to mind control nightmare by using his music abilities. The one thing he didn't know was that nightmare resisted his power. He was very surprised no one has ever resisted his power, so he tried harder still nothing though. Before he could do anything else nightmare snapped her fingers. He had no idea where he was when he opened his eyes. when he asked where he was. (We are at a love hotel you little fool) nightmare answered. Music Meister was really scared now he heard stories about nightmare being the most scariest hero of the Justice League. He just didn't expect her to be this scary. With a shaky breath he asked her what was she going to do with him. She smirked and told him that she's going to make him sing her name over and over again. He did not even want to ask her what she really meant by that. So his "thought question" was answered. She snapped her fingers. And used her magic to undress him. He had no idea what was going on but when she climbed on the bed but the predatory look in her eyes. He really wish he listened to his fellow Injustice Leaguers because the next thing he knew. He was screaming her name full of passion and pleasure. A few more thrust later. And he came right inside her. the next morning he woke up in his bed and his own home and there he saw a letter.(i hope you learned your lesson little bicth boy ) 🤣 his face immediately turned red he learned a few things that day 1. Never piss off nightmare 2. Always respect women. And 3. Never ever underestimate a woman with claws and magical powers

Vandal Savage

The first time she slept with him. Was when he was trying to take over the world, but taking over the world all by himself sounds lonely so who better to rule the world with him. Then nightmare herself. Of course he heard many things about her. When he asked joker what is she like joker freaked out and told him to never talk to her or go near her because of what she'll do to him. Vandal then decided to see what she looks like from a Faraway distance of course. So when he saw her in battle he thought she was beautiful yet a bit dangerous so that's when he finally made his decision he was going to try to convince nightmare to join him in ruling the world. When he did try this nightmare just laughed at his face and told him that he was an idiot for even thinking that, and then she had an idea a very mischievous idea. She made a deal with him that if he could prove to her and explain to her why it would be a good idea to rule the world and what would be so good about it. She then told him to think this through before opening his big mouth and saying something dumb. And that's what he did he spent all night thinking about what he was going to say to her he wrote it down and made a list of it. So the next day vandal found nightmare and told her the reasons why they both should rule the world. 1. If they rule the world together everyone can live peacefully no more war's no more violence just peace 2. Everybody will have a free will but there will also be some rules, nightmare heard every word of it she agreed vandal was happy she then told him that they should celebrate he asked her how do they do that. (Follow me and I'll show you) nightmare said. And he did all the way to his bedroom he realized what she meant by celebrate and he agreed. So there they were in the middle of passionate love nightmare never thought vandal was big between his legs so without knowing it vandal came inside nightmare, the next morning nightmare teleported to the watchtower and her uniform. And explain the Justice League vandal's plan of world domination. They wanted to ask her how she got the information she didn't say and it freaked them out a little bit. So they save the day and the world was save and sound. Vandal however was very hurt and very upset.

Slade damn he's hot I know very weird but still

When she first slept with him. It was after a gala

Slade was on a mission. That mission was to find nightmare and to know the Justice League weaknesses, without looking where he was going.

He accidentally bumped into someone. when he looked he saw that it was nightmare herself only as a civilian? He didn't quite understand. Why does she look like a civilian instead of a hero. Before he could do anything he realized that she was walking away. This was his chance he chased right after her. As he continued to follow her. He saw that she was heading right into a guest bedroom. Yes this is his chance he's finally going to interrogate nightmare into telling him what are the Justice league's weaknesses. Just as he opened the door he was surprised to see there was lit candles rose petals sexy music on the lights were off two champagne glasses and a tall plastic bottle of pink lemonade mix mellow yellow soda. When he shut the door he heard somebody coming out of the bathroom when he took out his knife, his eye widen. It was nightmare and beautiful black lingerie nightgown with a black robe,

She then started her way towards him the sexy smirk on her face. And she batted her eyes at him she began to undress him after she was undressing him always left was his underwear apparently he was above above average. 😏(Why are you doing this) Slade asked. (Because I heard so much about the great Slade Wilson) nightmare said as she began to guide him to the bed. Slade had no idea that this would be happening.(ah what the hell) slade thought to himself. As he laid nightmare down on her back he was above her. He had her legs spread and right next to his waist. Before they could do anything he almost forgot to lock the door so he got off the bed and locked the door. And to make everything even more romantic he opened the bottle and poured two glasses of pink lemonade mix mellow yellow into two champagne glasses.(what's all this for) nightmare asked with a smirk on her face.(just want to make a toast before things get a little bit heated 😏😉) Slade answered. They both drink their little drinks after they were finished Slade then grab both of the glasses and put them on the coffee table. He walked back and began to pull down his underwear. Nightmare's eyes widen she seemed big but she never knew that Slade was this big. A 9 inch cock with a pink tip. She also didn't know that he was circumcised. So as Slade begin to crawl on the bed he began to undress nightmare. After he undressed her he then spread her legs wide open and begin to eat her pussy out. now nightmare had many lovers namely male heroes and male villain lovers and they all made her orgasm a couple of times but she had no idea that Slade be this really good even better before she knew it Slade stopped what he was doing. she whined a bit (just hold on now I'm not done yet) Slade said as he put one finger in her pussy. Nightmare had no idea that his fingers would be that thick when he put a second one in. She feel like she was going to come soon. When Slade made sure that she was nice and wet he stroked his cock a few times but nightmare stopped him. (What are you doing) he asked. (I'm going to repay the favor) she answered when she laid him down on the bed she got down on her knees on the floor open her mouth and begin to suck his cock it was a bit tricky at first but she got the hang of it of course she sucked many dicks in the past this might be her greatest fuck ever. While she was giving him a blow job she was bobbing her head and gagging basically she was deep throwing him. Slade had no idea that she was this experience. When she knew that he was ready and all slippery. Slade couldn't take it anymore he grabbed nightmare and dinner to the bed or the pillows are spread her legs and put his cock in and begin to fuck her pussy nice fast and hard. Nightmare was moaning really loudly and saying his name over and over again his balls were slapping her pussy over and over again. He was fucking her so fast and hard that her breasts were jiggling and bouncing like crazy. Slade then put his mouth on one of her breasts and play with the other rubbing her nipple and twirling his tongue around her nipple after he was done with her breast he put his hand on her clit and decide to play with it as he thrust inside her. Slade then decided to put her in a new position. he then got off of her and got off the bed he pulled her and bend her over the bed and put his cock back inside her he was thrusting her even harder and faster than before. A few hours of thrusting later. Slade then came inside of nightmare all the way into her womb. Slade and nightmare both crawled into bed and cuddled the next day Slade woke up to see the bed was empty and a note on the pillow. It read (I had fun last night I'll see you next week at the love hotel sincerely nightmare 😏😉 PS I forgot to take the pill) Slade will never forget that night and he almost forgot to get the information he needed

[thenextchapterbegins]

To that he just laughs a bit. "Verosika I didn't even want to be the real me anymore. Its why I changed. Do you want to know what the REAL me was doing before I started whoring myself out?" He takes a moment to think trying to recall a certain event. "Alright this is what REAL me did. Before I met you. I was..hiding out in an abandoned building that I had turned into my...creative process as my persona. Im sure what was it a few decades ago. You must have heard the news of strange killings? Before they got trade marked by the playwright killer. this is ofc before I went public when I did my magnum opus a few years ago."

"I was still working on my craft i hadn't entirely figured out my modus operai as I believe its called or my signature but this was the time when I finally did. I believe I was basing the kill off a shakespear play Hamlet the famous scene with the skull. Which I had from a previous victim. Before when my killings weren't as personal I based killings off famous known plays and theatres when I started killing again after the fiasco at ozzies thanks for that by the way you were one of the people there to...relight that flame." He says with an almost dark smile.

"So..i had a target. Some shit for lord wannabe overlord who thought he was gonna be the next kingpin in imp city. Knew his routine, knew his favorite outings, etc. waited for a night. No one ever looks up, he took a spot for a piss in some shitty alleyway after a night out in this bar he owned. Climbed/ jumped down. Now when your killing and you want to pose them afterwards its important not to drain them too much of their blood which I would use with my magic to lock them. So typically i'd go straight for the heart, quite easy when they don't expect you."

"It was easy this fuck didnt even know how to fight. Barely a struggle I always like to watch them just as that light left their eyes. knowing what just did them in...after that I took the time to pose the body, write a message in blood placed the skull and BAM. Next day front papers. My own column."

"That my dear verosika is what i did, what I was, and who I was hiding for..a good maybe half decade I did this, then I disappeared reinvented myself dropped the o started acting a different way, no one saw my face I wore a mask dressed like I was in a masquerade. The idea that it was a hellborn a serial killer the most feared of the time. Because anyone can kill but to kill and cause FEAR TRUE FEAR. that is hard..and I hid that part of me. You never knew the real me verosika I was by your own words a fake...the real me would have terrified you."

"and when ozzies came that facade shatterd it was already failing but it finally did and my killings started again, until my magnun opus which allowed me to ascend...now I'm too busy running a city to go on spree's anymore. But I will say this. I am not a good person vero for a great many things. But my killings were always this targeting those who belittled, treated and acted against my people. They thought they were untouchable until I made them dance on my strings and ALL OF IT. Was till eventually I killed someone deemed impossible to kill so I could rise and actually begin to do something concrete."

He shrugs. "Horrific monster with noble intentions. Like a dark play almost." He chuckles softly. "also vero. you GET why I did what I did. you don't know the WHY. Not even that explanation is the WHY.

"I can only offer this, I am sorry for making you feel how you felt that was never the intention but I don't regret doing it if I had to do it again i'd at least try and pick someone who wouldn't be so hurt by it at least. "

"So your really going all out. pop star to a rock/metal star." He takes a moment to lean back his head and really take in the full outfit. "I like it better, but don't let my opinion make you wish to toss it out and burn it on the stake. Would be a waste of good cloth."

"Not like I'm doing this for you, but if I had to guess... you can't stand that I'm wearing it better than you could~" she teased trying to get a rise out of him.

"If you want to actually look good I know some people who could deal with thst outfit."

[lxclerc]

𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 | 𝐝𝐫𝟑

SUMMARY: in which daniel is terrified the whirlwind of his world would make you leave him. REQUEST: from anon: “Angry!daniel cause ever since y/n and him went public, paps won't leave her alone and she feels overwhelmed so he gets pissed and goes off on them”  WARNING: invasive paps, hints of anxiety PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x reader WORD COUNT: 1.9k

NOTE: i actually genuinely hate this haha definitely not my best writing

MASTERLIST

I’d give you my sunshine, give you my best. But the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me. Is it enough if I never give you peace?

The first time you got sent hate after going public with Daniel, you laughed it off as you showed it to your boyfriend, finding the entire concept of someone going out of their way and taking time out of their day and putting in effort just to send such brainless comments about someone they’ve never talked to. 

“My first hate comment,” you joke, placing your head against his shoulder. “Does this mean I’ve made it?”

But Daniel doesn’t seem to find it as funny as his arms wrapped around you, a frown on his face as he gently took the phone from you, already making a mental note of the usernames. “I can speak up about this. Maybe lessen it a little.”

Your laugh cuts off when you realize he’s genuinely upset and so you take your phone back, putting it down as you place your chin against his chest, looking up at him to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to, Dan. It’s just a bunch of jealous idiots hiding behind their screens and it means nothing to me. I know what I signed up for when I started dating you.”

Daniel says nothing else, only pulling you closer to him as he meets your lips in a soft kiss, making you smile thinking that was it but still, Daniel couldn’t help the sudden sinking in his stomach. He hates the fact that you’ve accepted that loving him comes with dealing with hate and he can’t help but wonder how long you can take it till you decide it’s enough, making fear rise in his chest. 

—

The first time you appeared in the Paddock, the whirlwind of photographers and fans alike crowding around you and your boyfriend had you holding on to Daniel’s hand a little tighter, letting him pull you towards him in a subtle way to shield you from the cameras and the prying eyes, a crease appearing in his forehead.

Still, you only smile at him, trying to ignore the crawling in your skin as you give him a reassuring squeeze, not wanting to worry him before a race because of a silly little thing.

However, everyone can see that the public’s interest with you seems to be different from their interest from the other wives and girlfriends. Perhaps it’s because of your bubbly persona or the way Daniel seems so madly in love with you but they took special interest in everything you do, your follower count skyrocketing from a few hundreds consisting of friends to millions in a matter of days. 

“Y/N!” An interviewer called, saying your name as though you’re close friends rather than complete strangers as he all but shoves his mic to your face, making you stumble back a little till Daniel wrapped an arm around your waist to stabilize you. “How do you think Daniel will do this qualifying?” 

Daniel was about to speak, probably to make some excuse that would save you from the intruding interviewer but you only give him a nervous smile, not wanting to cause a scene or make yourself seem snobbish that would in turn reflect on your boyfriend.

And so you answer with as much grace as you can manage, trying to school your features into a smile that you hoped doesn’t look as uncomfortable as it feels. “To be honest with you, I’m still not quite sure how the sport works but one thing is for sure, however Dan performs, I’ll be cheering for him.”

And with that, Daniel is steering you away before anyone can ask anything else, not wanting to overwhelm you the first time that you come to a race to support him. 

“That was weird,” you mutter once you’re far enough away from the group of people, the McLaren motorhome becoming visible as the pit of fear in his returns.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, hand holding yours unknowingly becoming tighter. “They can be invasive. I should have told you.”

You’re quick to spot the immediate worry appearing in his voice along with the crease in his eyebrows and so you make sure to give him a smile, planting a kiss on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Dan. It isn’t your fault and I don’t mind answering a few questions.”

—

Still, the media’s fascination with you only seems to grow. You’re not entirely sure either for what reason but it only seems to get worse as the entire issue with McLaren reaches the media. You’ve been busy mostly getting Daniel’s mind out of it as the two of you went camping with a few friends, deciding on a no phones allowed week filled with just each other.

The moment you come back though, everything seems to fall over. You aren’t like the usual models like the other WAGs are. You actually do have a boring desk job and an irritating boss and live pretty much a normal life. 

Of course up until you came in for work and a hoard of people with cameras came at you.

“Y/N, did you know about Daniel leaving McLaren?”

“Has Daniel told you about his future?” 

“What do you have to say about McLaren sacking Ricciardo in exchange for Piastri?” 

You can feel your chest getting tighter as you fight through the hoard to get back to your car, wanting nothing more than to get away from the invasive questions. Once your doors are locked and you’re back in the safety of your car, you immediately dial Daniel’s number, hands slightly shaking as cameras continue to go off outside.

“Dan?” Your voice is shaking too, you realize as you take deep breaths.

“Honey?” He asks and you can still hear the sleep lacing his voice. “I thought you’re at work.”

“I was,” you say, suddenly thanking everything that your car is tinted and no one can look inside from the outside. “There are paparazzis here and photographers. They were asking questions about you and I’m just–” You cut yourself off, unable to continue as your voice shakes again. “There’s a few of them surrounding my car.”

“What? Fuck.” Daniel suddenly sounds aware as you hear shuffling from his side as he gets out from the comfort of your shared bed. “I’ll come pick you up. Where are you?”

“No, no,” you say immediately. “I’ll drive home. I just wanted to let you know. They were asking me about McLaren and stuff and I didn’t want you to get in trouble.” 

“Who cares about that?” He sounds angry but you know it isn’t you he’s angry with. “I’ll run them all over.”

“Just stay there,” you tell him, already starting your car. “I’m on my way home.”

You hear him sigh and you know he wants to fight back again, wanting to be the one to pick you up and make sure you’re safe but he also knows there’s no way you’ll agree and so he can only nod his head despite the fact that you can’t see him. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for this, baby.” 

“It’s fine,” you’re quick to say even though you both know it isn’t. “It’s not your fault, Dan.”

“Still,” he insisted. “They’re bothering you because of me.”

You sigh, not knowing what else to say and you sound so tired that it breaks Daniel’s heart. Are you tired of it? Tired of dealing with everything that comes with him? Are you tired of him?

“We’ll talk when I get home,” you say instead.

— 

“Daniel Ricciardo caught punching photographer.”

You sigh as Michael read the words, hand on Daniel’s wrist as you cleaned his wound gently. After a good night in celebration of his p5 finish in Singapore, the last thing you’d expected was this. A dinner date that was going inexplicably well as you and Daniel giggled over glasses of wine, hands entwined on the table. It was almost perfect if it weren’t for the sudden appearance of a couple of men with cameras blocking your paths as you move to go back to your hotel.

Daniel had you behind him, doing his best to shield you away from the prying questions but it was getting harder and harder as the few men became a horde after fans just passing by recognized him. He was trying his best to keep you behind him, arms wrapped around you in an attempt to put a barrier between you and the people you didn’t know.

His plan was to get you safely in the car then maybe he’d come back out to sign some stuff and get pictures, not wanting to completely ignore his supporters. However, that all flew out the window the moment one of the photographers wrapped a hand around your wrist, pulling you back and making you yelp as you almost fell if it weren’t for your boyfriend’s arm around you.

“Hey, man, let her go.” The restrained anger is clear in Daniel’s as he glared at the man still holding on to your arm.

But the man seemed to have heard nothing as he turned to you. “Y/N, I just have a few questions–”

But the photographer was unable to finish his sentence with Daniel’s fist colliding with his face. He’s never been one to result to violence but all he can seem to see is red as the man kept pulling at your wrist and before he knew it, he was pulling his arm back for a punch. 

“I told you to let go of my girlfriend, you fucker,” he spat out at the photographer now on the floor. 

Daniel seems ready to throw another punch but you’re quick to pull him away by his arm, the two of you barely escaping the clicks of cameras and videos that you’re sure is already trending on twitter.

And so here you were, in his hotel room as you cleaned his bloody knuckles, Michael standing over the two of them as he read the headlines. 

“McLaren marketing will handle it,” Daniel says and you know he’s still angry. “At least they’re useful for something.”

You couldn’t help but sigh again as you offer Michael a smile. “We’ll talk to you tomorrow, Mike.”

The trainer thankfully took the hint, nodding as he leaves the two of you by yourselves. For a moment it’s quiet as you entwine your hand with Daniel’s, placing it on your lap. You rest your head against his shoulder as you allow the silence to comfort the two of you.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “We were having such a great night.”

You smile softly at him, moving your head so your chin is on his shoulder. “It was still a good night, Dan.”

“I don’t know how you can keep doing it, stay with me and have your privacy be regularly violated.”

Is it okay if I never give you peace?

“Because I love you.” There’s no hesitance in your voice as you say it. “Being with you and watching you do what you love makes it all worth it.”

“For how long?” There’s genuine fear in Daniel’s voice as he asked it, finally voicing out thoughts that have been plaguing his mind for months.

But you only smile that reassured smile of yours at him, seemingly so sure of your answer. “For as long as you want me.”

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq

[kingkatsuki]

JO it’s been awhile since i’ve been in your ask box lol hope you’re doing well. I heard this crazy (it’s actually a little sad but funny from an outside view ngl) office story at dinner tn and it made me think of all the times you’ve talked about secretary/office reader

Sooooooo imagine you’ve been working at the office for a couple months but before your started working you were going through a really nasty divorce/breakup with someone who happened to work at the same place. They were SO nasty (vile honestly) that they decided to send an official work email with nude pictures and videos of you with your name and work email to ALL OF YOUR COWORKERS!! (again i felt really bad for the poor girl this happened to). Not only was it traumatizing that your coworkers saw, but more so that you’d never seen a lot of these pictures before. To think that you had been in a committed relationship with such a disgusting person.

I’m thinking you work at different job and you tell Katsuki because you’re too embarrassed to go back to work and face your coworkers. He gets so so livid and threatens to get back at him, but he obviously gets shut down by you pleading for him to not get involved. He would definitely plot something with Kiri and tell him; Kiri would feel so proud to help Kats beat the shit out of this dude. He might even include Denki and Sero if he had something real sick and specific in mind.

Instead of telling you this, he’d make you come to the agency and you’d do your work in his office. He’d be more excited if it weren’t for the circumstances, but he can’t deny that he loved getting to spend more time with you. Trying to make you forget about the whole thing and overcome together the best he can- might even get Mina and the guys to have lunch at the agency together because he knows they will cheer you up.

I can’t imagine though if you were working at his agency and HE SAW THE EMAIL and maybe you guys weren’t together yet or you just started dating! i’d simply pass away.

Omg this is insane and so fucking malicious.

I’m torn between making it Dynamight’s agency, or making it a different office.

Like imagine you just work at a different office, so the moment you come home to tell Bakugou about it he’s seething. Not only because someone’s done that to you, but because it’s one of the most slimy things you can do to a person. And when you tell him you don’t even recognise some of the pictures he’s even more angry, because that means he’s been taking all sorts of illicit pictures or videos of you and who’s to say how many there are. He knows with his power and influence in the city he can ruin this guys life with one call, but he wants him to truly suffer. So of course he goes to fuck the guy up, he doesn’t even need to call the guys but he does, because he knows they’ll stop him from going too far.

And then a few days later, he’s sitting in his high rise office and he still makes that call to your job, asking for the CEO as Bakugou asks what he’s going to do about the situation, and what he’s going to do with the employee. Until your boss shuts the phone off, thinking it’s just a prank. So imagine his surprise when the number two hero Dynamight shows up in the reception of his agency not even an hour later, even more pissed. And your ex? Is even more terrified now as he sits there with bruised ribs, broken arm and dark marks across his body. Trying to avoid bringing any attention to himself as Bakugou shouts to him to get into the fucking office and he scampers in like a lost puppy.

But if it was Dynamight’s Agency? God, think of how much more worse it would be. When the email chain is sent to everyone, it means everyone. Bakugou pulling up his laptop to click the email full off attachments as he scrolls through each one. Of course he knows who you are the moment he sees your name, probably one of the few names in his agency that he remembers. And not because you’re close or that your job is a highly important one, but because you always seem to take your coffee breaks at the same time as him. (Bakugou 100% ensures to schedule his around yours because he loves the conversations you end up having at random hours of the day🥺)

But when he sees the pictures of you? He’d be lying if he didn’t look, you’re even prettier than he imagined. He can already feel his heart racing as he scrolls further down and sees more of you, but then he starts feeling the rage creep up inside him. Because you don’t deserve this, no one should be looking at you like this and especially not his entire agency. He’s now looking at the email chain as he tries to find out who sent it, asking his secretary who the fuck your ex-boyfriend is and what department he works in. Bakugou sends an email out in response, threatening to fire anyone that saves any of the pictures or videos, telling them that he’ll get his tech team to check for save files as he stops the email chain from repeating. Anyone that’s already replied is getting fucked too, but not right now. Right now he’s making his way down to the exact department your ex works in, and the only thing Bakugou can say right now is he’s lucky he’s at work and not on the streets because at least for him he’ll make it out alive.

And after Bakugou is so mad at himself for not looking for you first, because he allowed the rage to dictate where he went first. And he steps into the women’s bathroom on the 27th floor with no shame as he instantly hears you crying in one of the stalls as he tries to coax you to open the door for him.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

A new servant desperately struggles to understand what exactly Merlin is:

A cryptid? Arthur's boyfriend? Simply a dude? The court jester? Something else entirely? Who knows, certainly not the new guy.

The first time the new kitchen-hand, Tristan, saw The King’s dark-haired servant sprinting down the corridor, he couldn’t tell if the man was laughing or crying.

He was fast, faster than Tristan thought possible for someone whose arms were so full of laundry, but he politely steps out of the way, coming to the conclusion that he must’ve been late for something. At least... he did think that, until he turns the next corner to see three of The king’s most trusted knights peering out of windows and into random doors. Tristan freezes in the corridor, he’d heard that servants were treated extremely well here, but he’d only been employed for a few days and he didn’t want to risk anything by pushing past or addressing his betters.

One of the knights, Sir Leon, his brain helpfully supplies, spots him stood there, and his annoyed frown quickly morphs into a friendly smile:

“Pardon me, sorry, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Merlin around anywhere, have you?”

Tristan’s eyes go wide and the grip he has on his tray tightens, but he forces himself to take a breath and answer, trying his best to keep his voice even:

“Merlin is... The King’s manservant? Tall, with dark hair?”

Another knight pushes forward, he looks to be the oldest, with dark hair falling in an almost deliberately tousled way around his bearded jawline. His charming grin seems just a little too wide to be genuine, but Tristan isn’t quite sure if that’s because he’s about to take pleasure in punishing someone, or if he’s just being polite to a stranger:

“Yeah, yeah that’s him, seen him? Arsehole turned our shirts pink in the wash, and something tells me it was deliberate.”

Tristan gulps at the accusation and he takes a shaky step back, but before he can even think of defending the stranger that he now thinks must’ve been crying, the last of the three knights, a giant, if Tristan believed in such things, steps forward:

“Don’t worry, we won’t beat him too much.” 

He says it with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrows, but once again the kitchen-hand can’t tell if it was cruel or genuine, if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Uh... yeah, he turned left at the end of this corridor, but I didn’t see where he went after that, I apologise.”

Sir Leon waves away his apology with a smile, looking to the long-haired knight with a raised eyebrow:

“The stables?”

The man grins widely, nodding his agreement as he turns his grin to the giant. Sir Leon offers Tristan another soft smile, murmuring his thanks before moving past him, elbowing the other two to prompt them in to thanking him as well. The three of them march down the corridor with almost vindictive smiles on their faces, and Tristan prepares himself to see a vacancy note, or possibly a funeral invite, posted on the notice board by the next morning.

When he passes a window that evening to see the King’s manservant being carried on the giant’s shoulders as five other knights pelt them with gloves, a grin on every face, he decides that... well... it’s probably best to just not to ask.

~

The next time he sees Merlin, a few days later, The King is also there.

This is the first time Tristan has been in Arthur Pendragon’s presence, and though the other servant’s all rave on about how awkwardly kind he is, he’s a bundle of nerves. Not even Cook’s stories about how often she whacks The King’s knuckles with a wooden spoon when she catches him about to pilfer something stops Tristan’s heart from racing. 

The King was overseeing a few of the servants decorate the main hall for a feast, and whilst Tristan is certain that that’s not something The King normally does, he doesn’t question it, just thinks that maybe the other servants had been telling the truth, and he was a genuinely nice, but normal man. 

Merlin stands at his side, and though Tristan can’t hear their conversation, the two of them are clearly bickering over something. The servant can’t help his curiosity, wanting desperately to move closer to find out what sort of things The King allows his servant to bicker with him about; luckily, the table right next to them has yet to be laid, so he moves towards it quickly. He doesn’t even glance at them, terrified of being caught out, but perhaps Merlin surviving the knights non-wrath the other day is encouraging him, and his steps don’t falter. Their words come in to focus, and he has to stop the confused, and slightly horrified, frown from spreading across his face:

“Arthur, I swear to the Gods, if you make me wear that hat again, I’ll piss in your wine and serve it to you in front of a crowd.”

The King scoffs just as Tristan shakily begins laying down the cutlery:

“That’s treason, Merlin.”

“Do I look like I care? Not only will I piss in your wine, I will not hesitate to push you over a balcony at the first opportunity. This hall is high up and it’s a long way down to the gardens. He drank toxic wine and turned loopy and tipped himself off a balcony and went splat! That’s what people will say. I’m not wearing the Godamn hat.”

Tristan has to focus extra carefully to stop himself from gasping; Merlin just threatened to kill The King... that’s got to be a death sentence. Pissing off some knights that he’s obviously friendly with is one thing, but threatening to kill The-

“Ha ha. Very funny. If you can’t tell, Merlin, I’m being sarcastic, I know you struggle with complex concepts like that.”

Merlin just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he says with no hesitation:

“My mind is more than capable of coping, My Lord, it’s your belt I worry about being able to cope nowadays.”

Tristan bites his tongue to stop himself from yelping and turns away so neither of them can see his horrified face. The King just makes an outraged noise in the back of his throat, and Tristan can hear Merlin snort in laughter at whatever expression Arthur was wearing to match such a noise:

“Go to the stocks. I want you there for three hours.”

Tristan lets out a confused breath; Merlin threatens to kill The King, and gets playful sarcasm, but he implies The King might be a tad overweight, and gets sent to the stocks for three hours? How is that-

“Yeah... no. Not happening. The feast starts in less than two hours and I still have to help Guinevere organise some stuff in the courtyard, do Gaius’ rounds for him, then put an extra hole in your belt and help you get dressed because, despite being a grown man, you’re still an idiot who’s incapable of putting clothes on in any sort of decent manner.”

Tristan finds himself relaxing a little. This seems to be the norm for them, but surely... surely The King had a line somewhere, and a servant just flat out refusing to be disciplined must be where it lies?

Arthur just scoffs, and Tristan angles his head in such a way that he can see him roll his eyes:

“Fuck off.”

Merlin grins, seeming to cast a suspicious gaze over the room to make sure no one was watching and somehow completely missing Tristan stood just there, before saying quietly:

“You love me really, you prat.”

With that, Merlin reaches up to yank at a lock of The King’s hair before hurrying off in the direction of the courtyard before Arthur can react. The King jumps slightly, clearly caught by surprise as an annoyed flush rises on his face, but Tristan just frowns in confusion when his shock gives way to a softly amused smile.

Huh.

~

The next few times Tristan saw Merlin made him fear for the servant’s safety. He was being taken on hunts by The King and his knights, that’s meant to be for squires, to learn the ropes and gain experience in tracking and riding. 

He supposes it isn’t entirely unheard of for a servant to follow their master on a hunt, but with the way Merlin complains without pause, and The King in turn complains about his complaining, he thinks it would better for everyone if Merlin just... didn’t go. When he brings it up to another servant, a lovely woman named Guinevere who had helped him get unlost at least three times in his first week, she just laughs and smiles at him pityingly:

“I wouldn’t worry, those two have been like that forever, they’re practically inseparable.”

Tristan responds with a rather intelligent sounding:

“...What?”

Gwen laughs softly again, shaking her head and patting his shoulder consolingly:

“You’ll get used to it, they’re just... like that.”

She gives him one more smile before turning to wave the boys out of the gates and walking back to the castle as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Tristan supposes that it probably is.

The next time Tristan sees Merlin leave the city gates with the knights, Sir Elyan, Sir Mordred, and Sir Lancelot this time, it’s distinctly worse. Because he’d caught sight of the patrol rota last time he ran food down to the training ground, and he was certain that those three had a city patrol right about now.

Before he even has time to gape in shock, he hears Merlin’s pleading voice as he trails Sir Elyan like a lost puppy:

“Please, El, I promise to stay out of the way, I will do anything, but I swear to the Gods if I have to spend one more minute around that prat, I’ll hurl myself from the battlements.”

Swearing to the Gods and threating to hurl various people, including himself, from significant heights seems to be some sort of theme for The King’s manservant. Before Tristan can consider the implications of that, Sir Elyan turns to Merlin with a wide, teasing grin on his face:

“You know, I would’ve let you tag along for free, Merlin, but now that you’ve promised me something I feel the need to take advantage.”

Tristan tenses at that, a shot of ice spiking down his spine. He has keen eyes and sharp ears, he knows that Sir Elyan is the lovely Gwen’s brother, Sir Mordred seems to have an... odd worship for the servant, and he’s definitely picked up on the close bond between Merlin and Sir Lancelot, but is this where Camelot’s image comes crashing down in Tristan’s head? He knew that it was better here for servant’s than other Kingdoms, but there are always people who’ll take advantage of their position, no matter where you are. Merlin’s shoulders just drop and he asks in a sulking voice:

“What do you want?”

Tristan grits his teeth, moving his gaze so no one would catch him glaring at the knight as he tries to figure out a way to help, a way to get this virtual stranger out of being... abused, in such a manner. If he’d carried on glaring, he would’ve noticed Elyan’s soft smile and amused raised eyebrow:

“Next time you gather herbs for Gaius, bring back some more of those flowers that you got for Gwen. She said they added vibrancy to the house, whatever that means, but they make her happy, so...-”

Merlin just giggles and nods and Tristan relaxes, looking back to them with a confused smile on his face. That was... actually kind of sweet, he can definitely see the resemblance between the knight and his sister:

“-AND I want whatever Arthur’s having for dinner tonight, his food always looks way nicer than ours.”

Merlin lets out a faux annoyed groan, but then rolls his eyes and grins, nodding:

“Consider it done. Can we go now? I really don’t want to risk him seeing me and giving me some stupid chore to do.”

Elyan laughs and nods, and the four of them begin making their way out of the courtyard and into the city. Sir Lancelot finally joins the conversation, clearly amused as he says:

“You know it’s literally your job to do chores, right?”

Merlin turns to glare at him as Sir Mordred and Sir Elyan laugh, and Tristan only just hears his reply as the castle gates shut behind them:

“Fuck off.”

Tristan decides it would be pointless to bring this up to anyone again, he figures he’ll probably just get the same answer as last time.

~

The next confusing incident happens only a few days later. But Tristan supposes that at this point... it really shouldn’t be confusing. Gwen was right, he did just... get used to it.

He heard the steps pounding down the corridor before he saw him, but they were coming fast and hard, so he presses himself against the wall, holding the tray to his side to protect it as best he could as Merlin comes skidding round the corner. 

He stops just long enough for Tristan to calm himself by spying the wide grin on his face, but he’s quickly sprinting down the hall again, laughing as he waves whatever it is he’s got clutched in his hands. The second set of loud, rapid footsteps stops Tristan from stepping away from the wall quite yet. Just a moment later, Sir Gwaine follows Merlin’s skidded path around the corner, though the heavier man overshoots slightly and he runs into the wall opposite Tristan with a crash and a deep groan.

The rebellious knight gives a wide-eyed Tristan an awkward nod before pushing himself off the wall and following Merlin’s blazing trail, screaming down the corridor:

“I warned you Merlin!! Don’t come between a man and his ale, now give that back you bastard!”

Tristan hears Merlin’s laughter grow louder, even from the two corridors away that the other servant had managed to race to.

He shrugs to himself, waiting for a moment to see if anyone else was going to come barrelling around the corner before sighing, and continuing his journey up to the visiting Lord’s chambers.

It was unusual, he thought, how quickly he’d come to terms with the fact that a servant was sassing The King and pranking the knights and inviting himself on various hunts and patrols that he really had no business on. Unusual indeed.

~

He’d learnt to ignore it. Or at least brush it off.

In the two weeks since Merlin had (presumably) stolen Sir Gwaine’s skin of ale, he’d seen the servant call The King a long list of imaginative insults (what the hell is a dollop head?), walk around with Sir Leon’s cloak on because he was a little chilly, accuse someone of treason (and somehow been right about it), and threaten to kill at least seven people; including, but not limited to: The King himself, The King’s already dead father, some stuck up Noble (though that was under his breath, Tristan just happened to be stood next to him), and Sir Percival.

And Gwen was... absolutely right. He's just... like that. He's Merlin, and that’s what Merlin does.

So when he turns a corner in a rarely used to corridor to see him pressing The King against a wall, snogging the life out of him, Tristan simply turns around and walks back the other way. Both of them look fairly happy with the arrangement, and they’d probably chosen this corridor for the exact same reason Tristan had: it was out of everyone’s way, and was unlikely to be inhabited.

He thinks it’s odd, how... un-odd he finds it. He absent-mindedly thinks that, with the way they acted around each other, he really should’ve seen this coming. A sudden thought occurs to him, and he ducks into a storage cupboard, laying his tray down carefully as he rummages through the boxes. He lets out a quiet “Yay” when he finds what he’s looking for, carefully picking up his tray with only one hand and nudging the door open again with his hip. 

He walks back towards the corner he had just turned (and turned again) making a conscious effort to keep his steps quiet; he places the danger sign, usually used where walls had collapsed or windows had been smashed, in the middle of the corridor, a clear indication of “Do Not Enter”.

He nods smugly at his quick thinking and easy handy work before mentally planning the quickest route to the kitchens and following it hurriedly.

He casually wonders if he has time to circle around to the other end of the corridor so he could put another sign down before Cook gets angry at him for being late. Probably not. At least, not before they... finish up and move on. Hmm. He suddenly panics about the thought of them seeing the sign and knowing that someone had spotted them but... well. Hopefully they would just appreciate it and move on.

Yet again, he decides not to bring this up to anyone. He may or may not have overheard a few of the knights making some sort of bet, and he may or may not want to watch on with amusement as they fail to realise that all of them have already lost.

Tristan smiles to himself; working here had turned out to be rather entertaining, in the end.

~

THE END

I know it’s short, but I really didn’t know what else to add without it sounding like I was just repeating myself over and over😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!!

[wonderlandleighleigh]

(Guess who has made it to GG season 6 and wants to fix the dumber shit. Also this is likely not how these kinds of things go and I don’t care.)

“Your honor, if I may.”

Rory frowns as she turns around, watching Lenny rise to his feet. He’d shown up for her court date, but her mother hadn’t, and it feels...

Wrong.

All of this feels wrong.

The judge, for her part, looks deeply confused. “Why is Lenny Bruce in my courtroom?”

“Friend of the family,” he tells her. “Rory and her mother are my neighbors. I’ve known Rory since she was very little, and have much more experience witnessing her day-to-day behavior than her very agitated grandparents here.”

“Mr. Bruce, I’ve already given my decision,” the judge points out.

“I’m aware,” he concedes. “But just a little bit more information about all of this, and if your decision stands, then so be it.”

She sighs heavily. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you, your honor,” Lenny nods. “Wow, I haven’t said that sentence in a long time.”

“Mr. Bruce.”

“Right! Look, this kid is a responsible person to a ridiculous degree,” Lenny explains. “Once time she accidentally left my house with a spoon she had used to eat ice cream, and when she brought it back twenty minutes later, she was crying because she thought she’d stolen from us. She was twelve at the time. I’ve known her for nearly two decades. That feeling of immense responsibility has not wavered until now, which leads me to believe that there is a real issue here that should be addressed beyond youthful indiscretion.”

Rory looks down at her shows, biting her lip. She wishes deeply that the floor would swallow her whole.

“I’m concerned we’re looking at a breakdown caused by burnout and the extreme stress of living up to very high expectations,” Lenny finishes.

The judge nods, looking thoughtful. “And what would you suggest?”

“Reducing the community service hours, and throwing in a few hours of court-ordered counseling,” Lenny responds.

Emily is on her feet, then, incensed. “How dare you! My granddaughter is not crazy! She doesn’t need counseling! You don’t know anything about her!”

“Sure, because a decade of babysitting and almost two of seeing her nearly every day of her fucking life from September to December every year -”

“Mr. Bruce,” the judge warns.

“Sorry, your honor - oh. Another thing I haven’t said in a while.”

The judge sighs heavily and sits back. “I will reduce the community service hours to 100, if Miss Gilmore agrees to fifteen sessions of counseling.”

“This is preposterous!” Richard booms.

“You’ll have to excuse the Gilmores, your honor,” Lenny waves a hand. “The rich are still terrified of mental health services, but I feel, after everything I’ve gone through in my life, that it’s important to make sure the courts provide help for people who need it, and not just punishment.”

The judge nods and turns to Rory. “Miss Gilmore? Do you accept this deal?”

She nods slowly, swallowing hard. “Yes, your honor.”

“Good. You are all dismissed.”

Richard is on Lenny instantly.

“How dare you stick your nose into my family’s business!”

Lenny rolls his eyes. “Lorelai’s pissed as shit at all of you, fine. But someone had to have noticed that this girl is losing her fucking mind, and if it wasn’t any of you, I guess it had to be me.” He turns to Rory and pats her shoulder gently. “See you around, kid.”

She dashes after him as he walks out of the courtroom. “Lenny, wait.”

He turns, tilting his head at her.

“I...thank you,” she says quietly. “Just- thank you.”

He nods and gives her a quick hug. “Don’t be a stranger, huh?”

She nods, and watches him walk off.

[tainted-wine]

Primal Dissonance

Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

So anon was like:

And since I’m total ass at writing short drabbles, or maybe it’s because they called me senpai, I ended up with a whole-ass fic. This took a different route than planned but I hope you enjoy, anon!

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Dubcon, Pheromones, Mindbreak, Feral Hawks, Rough and Public Sex, Tit Abuse. This totally isn’t as dark as it sounds.

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Hawks has been getting noisy. Not in the usual sense; he’s always a motormouth. No, he’s been making sounds that you’ve never heard him make.

At first you thought he was sick and something was irritating his throat, but on one occasion when you offered him water after hearing the sound, he almost looked offended. You concluded that it wasn’t an illness.

You later noticed that the noise often happens when it’s just the two of you together. During late night movie viewings at his place, he’d hold you close and release a constant hum, the vibrations from his chest and wings soothing enough to make you drift into sleep in his arms. You never saw the look of disappointment in his face as he decided to cuddle you for the rest of the night.

Just a few days later, he spots you during one of his patrols and presents you with a surprise expensive gift. A ruby pendant, the same brilliant shade as his feathers, was placed around your neck by gentle gloved hands.

“Hawks—why—what did I do to deserve this?” You asked while your eyes reflected the gemstone’s sparkles.

“Just wanted to give a pretty gift to my pretty girl.” He gave you a kiss, and waves of soft hums leave his mouth and into yours, flowing through your body, stimulating all of your nerves and triggering pleasant shivers. One makeout session later, and you both pull back to lock eyes. He’s looking at you expectantly, but you don’t even know what the hell he’s expecting.

You look to the side awkwardly. “Thank you, Hawks. It’s beautiful, but I…don’t have anything to give in return. This was a complete surprise, after all.”

His eye twitches, but he smiles and embraces you. “That’s fine, chickadee.”

A pigeon appears during your hug, and the soft coos emanating from it give you an epiphany.

“A pigeon! That’s what it is! You’re cooing like a pigeon!”

This time it’s his smile that twitches. Did you say something wrong? Whatever it is, he brushes it off with a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

That was also the day you noticed his rising body temperature. You asked once again if he was feeling ill, and at least this time he didn’t appear to be upset when he answered ‘no.’

On the next night you spent in his home, he—and you’re still not over this—took your hand and pulled you in for a dance. It wasn’t some silly jig in which he blindly moved to a random pop song, it was a slow classic love song, and he moved both of you in an elegant dance fitting for a ballroom.

It was the last thing you expected from the hero that normally took you on KFC dates or, if he had the time, reserve a spot at his favorite yakitori place. But there was no way you could say that you didn’t like the way his feet glided across the floor, wings acting as a living cape that made each of his movements look all the more graceful, and you followed his pace as best as you could.

You clung onto him more tightly than intended when he dipped you after a spin, sharp avian eyes boring into you before he buries his face in your neck, and that’s when you feel more than hear the cooing return. It’s a tune that never fails to make you feel so warm and safe; you have no idea how his gentle sounds have such influence over you.

He looks pleased by your relaxed state, pulling you back up and brushing a few stray hairs out of your face. “So?”

You smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I didn’t know you had such grace, Hawks. Now hurry up, or we’re going to miss the movie for tonight!”

You scampered off into the kitchen to prepare the popcorn, completely oblivious to the baffled look your boyfriend was giving behind your back.

A few days later and you’re more certain than ever that he’s coming down with something, because now there’s a constant sheen of sweat all over his skin, and his breath sounded labored even when he was just sitting around. Since he ignores all of your pleas to stay home for just a day or two, you come up with another solution. Hawks pouts like a child when you tell him that a little nature and clean air might restore his health, but he still accepts your offer for a date at a nature park because hey, spending a day in natural beauty with you sounds great.

You practically dragged him into a bus after telling him several times that he shouldn’t tire himself out prematurely by flying both of you there. One long scenic drive later, you both arrive at your beautiful destination. The park was huge and lush with flora of all kinds, from tree-filled paths to endless flower fields.

Exploring everything this paradise has to offer with Hawks sounds like a dream, but your main goal was to loosen him up and help him feel better, so you avoided the populated areas, passing the cycling roads, the play areas, the bug houses, all of the charming attractions until you reached the long stretches of vibrant colors. The flower park.

You and Hawks began a slow stroll hand-in-hand, taking in the seemingly endless blooms, the trees shedding petals onto the walkway—all of it served as the most delicious treat for your eyes.

But when you looked at the winged hero to see if he was enjoying the scenery as much as you were, you saw that he was staring at you. His face was slightly flushed, but you couldn’t tell if it was the result of his feverish temperature or if he’s finding this whole date very romantic.

“The flowers are over there, birdbrain,” you joked with a squeeze of his hand.

His wing wrapped around you and pulled you in closer, encasing you in his abnormal heat. “The only flower that matters is right here.” There was a rough breathlessness to his voice that made the otherwise corny line sound sensual.

And then the coos returned, bringing you back to that pleasant world where everything was warm, soft, and safe. The red feathers surrounding you quivered and rippled like ocean waves of scarlet. You were supposed to be making him feel at ease here, not the other way around.

A chorus of chirps snapped you out of your stupor. You broke out of the hypnotic embrace and spot a bunch of small bouncing figures in the white lilac tree in front of you. “Aww, look at all of the little tits, Hawks!” You point at the flock of singing critters.

Hawks snorted immaturely.

Before you could withdraw your arm, one of the Japanese tits flew over and perched on your still-extended finger, leaving you bug-eyed and your mouth agape. “Hi there! You’re a brave little guy, aren’t you?” You said softly, hoping not to startle it. It tweeted in response, fluffing up its black and white plumage as it looked up at you curiously. “Hawks! It’s so cute!”

Red wings bristled, but you were too enamored with the friendly bird on your hand to even look back at your boyfriend. It continued to sing, the tits sitting in the tree joining in to create an adorable medley of chirps, tweets, and peeps. “Such a nice sound, I never realized how amazing these little guys are.” You keep watching the beady eyes that stare right back at you, feeling the bird’s little feet move quickly as it adjusted itself to get more comfortable.

And with a powerful slug from a hardened red feather out of nowhere, the tiny tit is knocked off of your finger and sent flying like a fucking golf ball.

Your pointing hand was still out as you looked on, eyes and mouth now wide open in horror instead of awe. The poor bird managed to right itself before it hit the ground, flapping frantically to ride the light breeze and fly past its tree of brethren and off into the distance, its sloppy turns and sudden drops betraying how dazed it was.  

With your short-lived friend out of your sight, you turned to the man that ruined your magical bonding session, multiple negative emotions boiling inside you and ready to spill right onto this bastard. “Hawks!” You’re prepared to blow his ears off with every ounce of frustration, every concern that’s been plaguing you for the past week thanks to the strange changes that he refuses to talk about, but then you freeze.

The man’s face has darkened, eyes narrowed with its pupils shrunken into beady slits, lips pressed together in a tight frown—he looked enraged. But the terrifying look wasn’t directed at you, he was looking up at the innocent tits still residing in the tree and paying no mind to the violent treatment of one of their own. As his wings slowly spread with feathers sharpened, your chest constricted once you realized what was about to happen.

“Stop!” You threw yourself at him, grabbing at the outstretched limbs in a pitiful attempt to stop them, the bladed edges cutting your hands. It was still enough to shock and prevent him from launching any of the deadly weapons at the birds. You felt his feathers return to their soft fluffy state as he stumbled from your weight. “What the hell are you doing? What, are you pissed that it chose my hand instead of yours? The hell is wrong with you?”

Now he was aiming the glare at you, and you couldn’t help but shrink under the intimidation. His voice was shockingly low. “Just what game are you playing at here? Gushing over another bird’s song right in front of me?”

You eyed his still-expanded wings as you tried to make sense of what he said. “What?” Was all you could say.

“Here I was thinking you just had extremely high standards, but maybe you’re the type that likes to play hard to get, or make your guy jealous and see how he handles it.” He took a step toward you, and you took one back. “Well let me tell you, I’m not handling it very well.”

What he was implying would have made you burst into laughter if he didn’t look so threatening right now. “You’re…jealous? Of the bird that was on my finger?”

He laughed, or at least tried to, but the shortness of breath made him cough. The sudden anger must be worsening whatever has been making him hot and throaty for the past days. He needs to calm down for his own damn sake. “I guess I shouldn’t be, should I? Not for a girl who gets wet over any bird that does something as simple as approach her.”

“Excuse me?” Did you hear that correctly? No joke, did you really hear that shit correctly?

Hawks just keeps on going, taking your bewilderment as more mockery. “I give you something shiny, you don’t say anything.” A flash of several feathers and you feel your arms being pulled in front of you, the red tufts tying your wrist together.

“I put on a nice dance I practiced for, and you don’t say anything. Did you even notice that I cleaned and decorated the room that night?” You’re panicking from your tied hands and don’t see him fire another barrage that goes for your ankles, their tugs forcing you to lose your balance and fall hard onto the ground with a pained cry. Your hands are forcefully pinned above your head. “Hell, you seem to enjoy my song every time you hear it, so what’s the deal?”

While your heart is on the verge of exploding from its anxious beats, the gears in your head are spinning as you try to figure out how exactly this whole miscommunication even happened, but they keep jamming, filling your head with sparks and smoke of pure confusion. “What song? You haven’t been singing anything!” You yell as you fight against the feather-made cuffs around your hands and feet, but there was no breaking free. They suddenly felt as strong and durable as elastic metal.

Hurt flashes across his face and you don’t understand why goddammit, but it’s quickly masked with another scowl. “You mean the song that’s lulled you to sleep? The song that never fails to put you at ease every time? I can sense it, you know. How calm and pleased you feel whenever you hear it. I know it’s not the loud obnoxious tune of a songbird,” he glances at the tree that continues to emanate various calls as he kneels over you, nearly straddling your waist. Smart of him to keep his groin out of the range of your knees. “But you still enjoy it, right? I’m not too upset that you compared it to a shitty pigeon.”

You only stutter in shaky breaths as he lowers himself and presses all of his weight onto you, your eyes shut as he nuzzles your face lovingly. He feels like a furnace, the sweat from his face slathering onto yours from his rough rubs.

That’s when you smell something potent. You’ve picked up traces of it from him throughout the week, a strange but not unpleasant mixture of salt and sweet. You assumed it to be some sort of shampoo or cologne, but now it’s hitting you full force and it’s making your body…respond. With each inhale, the exotic scent sends a tingle down your abdomen and a release of wetness that dampens your clothing. What the hell is happening to you?

Hawks pulls away and sniffs the air. Your feminine aroma has him moan so suggestively that it makes your core heat up even more. “Oh, so this is getting you going?” He questions in a judgmental tone before something appears to cross his mind, and he laughs with a slap to his forehead. “I’m such an idiot. I’ve been doing this all wrong, haven’t I? You’re not a bird.” He kisses at the side of your face and licks the shell of your ear before whispering, “You’re a mammal. You don’t choose a mate by their pretty gifts or fancy dances.”

The lustful haze invading your mind almost distracts you from whatever is tugging at your pants and pulling them down. “H-Hawks…” You accidentally moaned. You were too out of it to even properly convey your worry. Your pants are removed and something tickles your hips to remove your panties next—that’s when you identify them as more feathers.

“With mammals, males just take what they want. They catch her, hold her down, and fuck her on the spot.”

You gasp when your lower body is completely stripped and exposed—a mistake—Hawks’s intoxicating smell rushes into your mouth and nostrils, making you clench and gush. He lifts himself just enough for the living binds around your wrists to pull and drag you off of the stone walkway and into the blooming batches. The flowers were just tall enough to probably hide you from anyone at a distance, but the winged man crawling over and sitting in front of your feet would easily give you away. “Hawks, someone…might see us,” you mutter.

He only chuckles. “Good, I want them to see. Are you little bastards watching?” He looks up at the lilac tree that now looms right over both of you. The resting tits have gone quiet, most likely intimidated by the large bird-human hybrid that continued to glare at them.

The response was ridiculous enough to temporarily free you from your trance. “I’m not worried about the birds, you dumbass.”

“Hmph, of course you’re not. You’d let them all join in if I’d let you, wouldn’t you?”

You have so many questions about how that would even work.

But you’re interrupted by the feathers around your ankles pulling your feet apart, easily overcoming your resistance and spreading you wide open for the hero in front of you. You have to look away from just how soaked you are, juices flowing from your swollen pussy and onto the soft soil, some of it sticking to your parted thighs in strands. The sight makes Hawks salivate.

“I’m at the peak of my rut and I’m tired of waiting. Gonna make you mine.”

It’s all he says before his entire mouth is on your cunt, tearing a startled cry from your throat. The peaceful sounds of the wind and rustling leaves are overshadowed by the absolutely filthy slurps, sucks, and growls between your legs. He was being a greedy savage that simply wanted to drink you up. There were no careful methods or patterns, just a hungry tongue that lapped at every inch of you and lips that sucked on anything they could grip.

You could barely even writhe from the onslaught, what with your arms pinned over your head and your feet held down so strongly that you couldn’t even move them across the dirt. You kept your sights on the rich colors of various flowers that encircled you as the sweet-smelling haze enveloped you again, enhancing your pleasure. Despite Hawks’ sudden loss of his oral skills, the feral nature of it all—the smothered snarls against your sex, the startling feel of his teeth carelessly grazing your sensitive flesh, and the lewd sight of his face covered in your glistening juices as his glassy eyes opened and stared into yours as he ate you alive—his voracity had you boiling over.

He gulped your essence loudly, welcoming every drop of the orgasmic flood into his mouth. All of the colors in your vision blurred more with each mind-numbing pulse. You weren’t even aware of the shameless wails that left you until the blissful waves finally subsided.

Once he had his fill, he finally pulled away from your mound and boy did he look like a hot mess. His cheeks were a deep red that was slowly spreading across his cum-covered face, a beady string of your fluids hanging from his lips before dripping off. He was climbing back over you and when the fuck did he take his pants off? He must have unbuttoned and removed them while he was licking you into heaven.

He still manages to look smug while he takes in your spent form, your slightly parted lips impossible to resist. Your mouth was suddenly locked with his, the breath you were desperately trying to get back stolen from you. And then the scent returns, this time accompanied with a powerful salted lemon flavor that assaults your taste buds. The taste of your own pussy was insignificant; his aroma in both your nose and mouth is nearly suffocating, your still-recovering inner walls already squeezing out more of your slick.

His tongue thrashes about in your mouth to paint his sweet saliva on every spot he could reach. You swallow it up thirstily and feel an immediate response in your throat that somewhat frightens you. Numbness overtakes your mouth and your throat relaxes completely; you felt like it was suddenly impossible to choke.

Hawks messily pulls away, breathing heavily and licking his lips. “Look at you. All it takes is a whiff and taste of a rutting male to turn you into a submissive little bitch.” You’ve never heard him speak like that, but like every action he’s taken since you’ve been at his mercy, it doesn’t fail to arouse you for reasons you still don’t understand. “Do you want some more? Hmm?”

You’re nodding before your crippled mind can comprehend the question.

The drugged kiss has you dizzy. You’re doing your best to keep track of his movements as he straddles your chest, his cock coming into focus and pressing against your lips. He doesn’t give you a command, you simply open up like a trained whore.

You’re moaning from the addicting taste of his length that pushes all the way to the back of your throat. Once his pubes are flush against your nose, your eyes roll back and you lose all sense of…everything. Everything except for that exhilarant fragrance and flavor.

Even as he begins to move in your mouth, your tongue swirls all around the sweet meat in an attempt to taste him all over. You’re throbbing wildly, but the feathers prevent you from bringing your thighs together for some much needed friction.

He was thrusting in and out at a pace that should have you gagging, but you take the pounding smoothly. Everything was murky, save for the pleasure that was slowly consuming you. You think the birds are singing again, maybe.

Something was smacking against your chin…rather loudly, you think. Hawks’s balls. How obscene, the way he’s hunched over you and fucking your face so roughly, but it’s hard to feel embarrassed when it’s all making you feel so damn good. Drool gathers and drips down your mouth. Your throat has become a second pussy, and he was fucking it like one.

The scent has your entire body on fire and you wish so badly that you could touch yourself. It was too powerful, each breath filling you with more burning tension. Your desperate whines came out as bubbly gurgles around his hammering dick. Your climax is dangling right at the edge. All you need is just the smallest touch on your drenched, deprived pussy.

His thick intrusion suddenly leaves your mouth, allowing oxygen to properly enter your lungs and for the pooling saliva to be swallowed. Hawks says something as you cough and sputter, but everything is still too muffled.

“Good……….not yet……….finish inside.” That was all that you were able to catch. You frankly don’t care. You immediately want his overpowering scent back.

When something pushes past the entrance between your legs, you cum instantly. Your scream is silent, or maybe you just can’t hear it, as your restrained limbs twitch like mad from the excruciatingly pleasurable contractions.

You’re already being fucked roughly while you’re still coming down from your orgasmic high. You’re rocked against the flowers and the soft earth beneath, your peaceful surroundings a stark contrast to the raunchy act currently taking place among them.

Hawks leans in once again, and you have to turn away and hold your breath because you truly felt like one more whiff of that mouth-watering smell would bring you the most euphoric death. His mouth drew closer to your ear, harsh pants in sync with his rapid thrusts. There’s no way a body was meant to handle so much stimulation, yet you didn’t want it to end.

You wanted this powerful man and everything that he had. You want him to fill your womb with his seed…bear his strong and healthy offspring…then let him take you all over again…

There’s a soft rumble that brings you back down to earth, clearing your mind just enough so that all of your senses work properly again. The smudged colors return to their original shapes, and the cooing that vibrates through both of your bodies can be heard loud and clear. His song.

“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you right here. Just give in to me.” Hawks sounds on the verge of losing his voice, weak and graveled, but his singing and hips aren’t letting up.

Finally, fucking finally, the feathers release your limbs. Ignoring how boneless they feel, you use all of your strength to wrap your arms tightly around his neck, and your legs lock right above his ass. You cling onto him like a parasite and moan freely, trusting his low and soft vocals to keep you grounded as his citrus aura captivates you again.

Your involuntary clenches ruin him and take him to his peak, several more hard and deep pumps bringing you to your final climax. Both of you cry out loudly enough to scare away the tits still resting in the tree, the small flock flying off to find a quieter perch.

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Good. That showed the little bastards.

Hawks smiled triumphantly as the small birds fled the erotic scene. Once he was certain that none of them were coming back, he returned his attention to you. Your chest heaved with each audible breath, your entire body drenched in sweat, just like his. He laid a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking lovingly as you close your eyes for much-needed rest after almost losing your mind.

He did it. He finally claimed you, and all he had to do was just show a little dominance…and expose you to a hefty dose of pheromones. It was clearly way more than you could handle—maybe the face-fucking wasn’t the best idea, but it looked like you were enjoying yourself enough. No harm done.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Hawks was a cool-headed man. He’s managed to stay calm and collected in the direst of situations. Still, when he slowly turns around to see a man dressed in the park’s staff uniform, blushing at the sight of a sweaty couple with no pants on among the innocent blossoms, he can’t help but feel just a wee bit fucked.

“H-Hawks? It’s really you? Wha-?” The poor guy is lost for words from the fact that he just found the number 2 hero banging someone in public.

Eh, he’s talked his way out of tighter spots.

With a smile, the winged hero sends a few feathers to his discarded pants and withdraws a pen from its pockets.

“How about a deal, buddy? An autograph from yours truly and a coupon for my merch. All you gotta do is walk away and forget what you just saw.”