#she was just like. you are a little bird with a broken wing and i am cradling you in my cupped hands and i am telling you stories of how

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴊ ᴀ ʏ ʙ ɪ ʀ ᴅ ⸻

“ Twisted Wings: The Joker’s Plaything ”

Pairing: Dark Jason Todd x Fem Reader Part 4

Summary: Everything hurts... But... But he can take it... He can take it... He just have to wait... He just have to wait... You and Bruce won't let him rot like this... Right?

Warning: Physically and mentally torture, Joker being Joker.

Notes: Merry Christmas everybody! I'm about to ruin it for you... English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

When the cell door creaked open, Jason didn’t even look up. He kept his head down, staring at the cracked concrete floor.

“Oh, bird boy,” the Joker sang, his voice laced with mockery. “Still sulking, are we? What’s the matter? Don’t like the accommodations? Or is it the lack of fine dining?”

Jason didn’t answer. He barely even moved, his breaths shallow and labored.

The Joker’s boots clunked against the floor as he sauntered in, something dangling from his gloved hand. “Well, lucky for you, Papa J is feeling generous today! I brought you something special.”

Jason’s stomach churned as the Joker dropped his “gift” onto the floor in front of him.

Dead rats. Three of them. Their tiny, broken bodies lay sprawled on the floor, their glazed eyes staring up at Jason.

Jason’s lips curled in disgust, and he finally looked up, glaring at the Joker. “You’re fucking insane,” he rasped, his voice barely audible.

The Joker grinned, crouching down so his face was level with Jason’s. “Oh, come on, kiddo. Don’t be rude. I went through all the trouble of finding these little guys for you! Freshly caught, too. You should be grateful.”

Jason swallowed hard, bile rising in his throat. His stomach twisted painfully, but he refused to give in. He spat at the Joker’s feet, his good eye blazing with defiance. “Fuck you.”

For a moment, the Joker stared at him, his grin faltering. Then, to Jason’s surprise, the clown’s face lit up with genuine delight. He clapped his hands together, letting out a peal of laughter that echoed through the cell.

“Oh, you’re precious! You really think you can starve yourself to death, don’t you? You’d rather wither away than eat the lovely meal I prepared just for you. How dramatic! How noble!”

Jason clenched his jaw, his body trembling with rage and hunger. “I’m not eating your fucking rats.”

The Joker’s grin widened, and he reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a phone. “Oh, I think you’ll change your mind, bird boy. Because if you don’t…” He tapped the screen, and the phone lit up. “Well, let’s just say things are going to get a lot more interesting.”

Jason froze. His heart dropped into his stomach as he stared at the screen.

It was her.

She was standing in what looked like an alley, her arms crossed, her face pale. She wasn’t tied up or restrained, but the fear in her eyes was unmistakable.

Jason’s chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat. “No…”

The Joker’s grin stretched impossibly wide. “Oh, yes. You see, bird boy, if you don’t play along, I’m going to pay your little girlfriend a visit. And do you know what I’m going to do?”

Jason shook his head, his voice trembling. “Please… don’t…”

“I’m going to skin her alive,” the Joker said, his voice gleeful. “I’ll peel her pretty little face right off, inch by inch. Then I’ll cook her up into a nice, juicy meal—just for you! Imagine that: you, sitting right here, munching on her crispy little fingers. Doesn’t that sound delicious?”

Jason’s vision blurred with tears. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. “No… Please, not her. I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt her. Please…”

The Joker tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. “Then eat,” he said simply, gesturing to the rats.

Jason stared at the dead animals, bile rising in his throat. He wanted to say no, to refuse, to let himself starve. But the image of her face haunted him—the fear in her eyes, the trembling in her hands. He couldn’t let the Joker touch her. He couldn’t let him win.

With trembling hands, Jason reached for one of the rats.

“There’s a good boy,” the Joker cooed, clapping his hands. “Now, be a dear and eat up. And make it quick—I’ve got places to be!”

Jason gagged as he brought the rat to his mouth. The stench of decay hit him like a brick, and he had to fight the urge to vomit. He closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face, and bit into the flesh.

The Joker erupted into laughter, his cackles filling the room. “Oh, this is priceless! Look at you, bird boy, gobbling up rats like a starving stray. Faster now! Come on, show me how much you care about her!”

Jason obeyed, choking down the rancid meat as tears blurred his vision. The Joker’s cheers echoed in his ears, each word a dagger to his soul.

“Faster! Faster! Don’t keep Papa J waiting!”

Jason sobbed as he forced himself to eat, his body shaking with revulsion and despair. He couldn’t stop thinking about her—her smile, her laugh, the way she used to look at him. He clung to those memories like a lifeline, even as the Joker’s laughter threatened to drown him.

She loves me, she loves me. She was just scared. She’ll come back… She’ll come back…

His mind screamed at him to stop, to fight back, to do anything but this. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let her die.

Everything hurts…

But he could take it.

He had to.

They’ll come for me, he told himself, over and over, like a mantra. Bruce won’t let me die here. She won’t let me die here. I just have to wait. Just a little longer…

But deep down, a voice whispered in the back of his mind—a voice that sounded eerily like the Joker’s.

What if they don’t?

Jason didn’t know how long he’d been in the chair. Days? Weeks? Months? The passage of time had become a blur, a murky haze of pain, humiliation, and Joker’s laughter. He couldn’t tell what was worse—the physical agony or the constant barrage of words designed to pick him apart piece by piece.

The room was cold and damp, the stench of mildew and blood lingering in the air. His wrists were raw and bleeding from the restraints, his muscles aching from being held in the same position for hours—days, maybe. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore. But worse than all of it was the gnawing emptiness inside him.

The door creaked open, and Jason instinctively flinched. He hated that reaction, hated how the sound of that door sent ice through his veins. But it was impossible not to. Joker entered with his usual swagger, his painted grin stretching impossibly wide.

“Wakey, wakey, bird boy!” he sang, his voice grating and shrill.

Jason didn’t look up. He couldn’t. He focused on the floor, the dirt-streaked concrete beneath his feet, anything but the clown.

“Aww, what’s the matter, kiddo?” Joker cooed, circling him like a vulture. “Cat got your tongue? Or maybe…” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper. “Maybe you’re starting to break, hmm?”

Jason didn’t respond. He clenched his jaw, ignoring the sharp pain in his cracked ribs. He wouldn’t give Joker the satisfaction.

But Joker didn’t need words. He always found a way to dig his claws into Jason’s mind.

“I brought you a little present today,” Joker said, his tone sing-song. “Thought it might cheer you up, you know, brighten your spirits!” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “It’s picture day, after all!”

Jason finally looked up, his good eye narrowing at Joker. The clown grinned wider and held out the paper, waving it in front of Jason’s face.

“Go on, take a look. Don’t be shy!”

His bound hands couldn’t reach, so Joker leaned in and shoved the picture into his line of sight.

Jason’s blood turned to ice.

It was a photograph. A grainy, Polaroid snapshot of her. She was smiling—laughing, even—standing beside someone in a Robin suit. But it wasn’t him. It wasn’t his suit.

“No…” Jason whispered, his voice cracking.

“Oh, yes,” Joker said, his tone gleeful. “That’s your replacement, kiddo! Isn’t he a real charmer? A little younger, a little smarter… and oh, so much shinier!”

Jason’s chest tightened. He couldn’t breathe. His mind raced, his heart pounding against his bruised ribs.

“She’s moved on, bird boy,” Joker continued, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You’ve been replaced. Forgotten. Left behind. And look at her—she’s happier, isn’t she? Laughing, smiling, all while you’re down here rotting away.”

Jason shook his head, his breaths coming faster. “No… no, she wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t what?” Joker interrupted, his tone suddenly sharp. “Wouldn’t forget about you? Wouldn’t find someone better? Oh, come on, kid. Look at the picture. You’re not even a memory to her anymore. You’re nothing.”

Jason felt tears sting his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He couldn’t show weakness. Not now.

Joker noticed anyway. He always noticed.

“Aww, poor little Robin,” Joker mocked, crouching in front of him. “Does it hurt? Does it sting? Knowing she’s out there, living her life, while you’re stuck here… forgotten… abandoned…”

Jason’s silence only seemed to fuel the Joker’s sadistic glee.

“You know, I bet she doesn’t even think about you anymore,” the clown continued, his voice turning cruel. “She probably doesn’t even remember your name.”

“Shut up,” Jason growled, his voice trembling.

The Joker’s grin widened. “Oh, struck a nerve, did I? What’s the matter, kid? Can’t handle the truth?”

“SHUT UP!” Jason screamed, his voice raw.

Joker’s laughter filled the room, loud and maniacal, echoing off the walls.

“Oh, this is too good! You’re just so much fun to play with, bird boy!” He stood, pacing around Jason’s chair. “You know, I should thank you. Breaking you has been the highlight of my days.”

Jason clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He wouldn’t break. He couldn’t.

But then Joker leaned in close, his breath hot against Jason’s ear.

“You know what the best part is?” he whispered. “She doesn’t care. She never did.”

Jason’s resolve shattered.

Joker saw it—the moment the fight left Jason’s eyes—and his grin turned triumphant.

“That’s it, bird boy,” he said softly, almost lovingly. “Just let go. Stop fighting. It’s easier that way, isn’t it?”

Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

Joker straightened, his grin returning. “Well, I’ll leave you to your thoughts, birdie. But don’t worry—I’ll be back. And who knows? Maybe I’ll bring another little picture next time. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Jason didn’t watch him leave. He stared at the floor, the photograph still burned into his mind.

She was smiling.

She was happy.

And he was nothing.

Jason barely registered the blows anymore. His entire body was a mess of torn skin, bruises, and agony so deep it numbed him to everything but Joker's voice. The laughter. Always the laughter. It echoed in his skull, filling every empty space where his own strength used to be.

By now, Jason had stopped flinching. When Joker’s boot slammed into his ribs again, he just let his head hang forward, blood dripping from his mouth onto the filthy floor.

“Oh, come on now, kid!” Joker taunted, squatting down to meet his eyes. He tilted his head in mock pity, his crimson smile as wide as ever. “Don’t tell me you’ve got nothing to say. Not even a little squeak? No ‘stop it’ or ‘please, sir’? You’re usually such a polite little punching bag.”

Jason forced himself to lift his head, just barely, his eyes glassy and unfocused. “Please… sir,” he croaked, his voice hoarse.

Joker’s grin split wider. “That’s the spirit! I knew you had some manners left in you.” He stood, pacing in lazy circles around the boy. “Now, I’ve got some questions for you, birdie. You’re gonna answer them, right? Be a good little boy for Uncle J?”

“Yes, sir,” Jason rasped, his voice trembling.

Joker clapped his hands together like a delighted child. “Oh, how precious! Alright, let’s get started, shall we?” He leaned against the wall, casually spinning a crowbar in his hand. “Tell me, Jaybird… what did you see in her?”

Jason blinked slowly, trying to process the question. His mind was a foggy haze, but when he thought of her—her smile, her laugh—it cut through the pain. His lips trembled. “She… she was everything,” he whispered.

Joker cackled, the sound sharp and cruel. “Everything! Oh, that’s rich! And what exactly does ‘everything’ mean, hmm? Did you think she loved you? That she cared about you?”

Jason’s throat tightened. He wanted to lie, to deny it, but he couldn’t. His voice was barely audible. “Yes, sir. I thought she did.”

Joker laughed harder, clutching his sides. “Oh, you poor, delusional boy! And what about you? What did you want with her? Hmm? Did you have plans, birdie? Little fantasies about your future together?”

Jason swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on the floor. The words came slowly, haltingly, dragged out of him like a confession. “I wanted… I wanted a family.”

Joker froze mid-laugh, his grin twisting into something darker. He stepped closer, crouching in front of Jason. “A family?” he repeated, his tone dripping with mockery.

Jason nodded weakly. “Yes, sir. I… I thought we could have a life together. Away from all this.” His voice cracked, tears streaming down his battered face. “I wanted… to marry her. Have kids. Be happy.”

Joker stared at him for a long moment before bursting into hysterical laughter. “Oh, my God! You really are pathetic, aren’t you? A little boy playing house, dreaming of a white picket fence while Daddy Bats fights crime.”

Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

“And what about now, hmm?” Joker pressed, his grin predatory. “Do you still want that? After what she did?”

Jason’s head dipped lower, his tears falling freely now. “I don’t know, sir.”

The Joker’s smile faded slightly, replaced by something colder. He grabbed Jason by the hair, yanking his head up to force him to meet his eyes. “Oh, don’t go all quiet on me now, kid. You wanted her, didn’t you? You loved her. You would’ve done anything for her. So tell me…” His grin widened again, sharp and cruel. “Do you still love her?”

Jason’s lip trembled, blood mixing with tears as he whispered, “Yes, sir.”

Joker’s laughter exploded again, filling the room with its twisted echo. He shoved Jason’s head back, sending it slamming into the chair. “You really are a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”

Jason didn’t respond. He just sat there, broken and defeated, Joker’s laughter ringing in his ears.

“That’s enough for now,” Joker said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “But don’t worry, bird boy. We’ve got plenty of time to dive deeper into that broken little heart of yours.”

And as Joker walked away, Jason let his head hang again, wishing he could disappear.

Jason didn’t look up when Joker came back. He didn’t have the strength. His body was a wreck, each breath a struggle, each movement a new kind of pain. His mind… it was something else entirely. Foggy, frayed at the edges, and slipping into places he couldn’t pull it back from. It didn’t make sense anymore—none of it did.

The world was nothing but pain now. Pain and laughter. The Joker’s laughter, high-pitched and endless, reverberating through Jason’s broken skull.

"Alright, bird boy!" Joker’s voice rang out, sing-song and sharp, dragging Jason back to the surface of his nightmare. “Let’s play a game, shall we? I call it Truth… or Pain.”

Jason didn’t react. His body slumped in the chair, his head lolled forward. He could barely lift his eyes to meet the clown’s, blood and tears crusted to his face like a second skin.

Joker crouched in front of him, leaning close, so close Jason could smell the rancid stench of greasepaint and sweat. “Here’s how it works, kiddo,” he said, his voice mockingly gentle. “I ask you a question. You tell me the truth, or…” He smacked the crowbar into his palm with a wet thud, grinning wide. “You get the idea, don’tcha?”

Jason didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

The Joker’s smile twisted, his patience as thin as the thread Jason was clinging to. He grabbed a fistful of Jason’s hair, yanking his head up. “Nod if you understand, birdie.”

Jason nodded weakly, his neck too stiff and weak to do more than a faint dip.

“That’s my boy!” Joker chirped, releasing him and stepping back. He twirled the crowbar lazily, watching Jason with an almost fatherly gaze. “Now, first question.” He leaned forward, his grin sharpening. “What’s your name, hmm?”

Jason blinked slowly, his brain struggling to process the words. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

CRACK.

The crowbar slammed into his ribs, a sickening snap reverberating through the room. Jason choked on a scream, his body convulsing against the restraints.

“Wrong answer!” Joker sang, his voice bright and cheerful. “Let’s try again, hmm? Who’s Batman’s favorite? Which one of you brats he loves more?”

Jason wheezed, blood dripping from his lips as he forced himself to speak. “D… Dick…”

The Joker tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Oh, really? Are you sure?”

Jason’s throat worked, but the words wouldn’t come.

CRACK.

The crowbar struck again, this time across his knee. Jason screamed, the sound raw and broken, echoing in the dark room.

“Ooh, wrong answer!” Joker said cheerfully. “See, the correct answer is none of you! You’re all just little tools in his utility belt. Didn’t you know that?”

Jason didn’t reply.

“C’mon, birdie! You’re not even trying!” Joker taunted, twirling the crowbar again. “Alright, let’s make this interesting. What’s your biggest fear, hmm? What keeps you up at night, even in this lovely little hell of ours?”

Jason’s breaths came in short, ragged gasps. His vision blurred, but the question cut through the fog. His biggest fear…

The words spilled from him, trembling and desperate, like a confession to a god who wouldn’t listen. “I’m… afraid…” His voice cracked, barely audible. “I’m afraid of forgetting her…”

Joker froze, his grin faltering for just a moment.

Jason didn’t notice. He couldn’t stop now, the words pouring out like blood from a wound. “Please… don’t make me forget Y/N…” His voice broke, tears streaming down his battered face. “It’s only her… only her and me… in this whole world…”

The Joker tilted his head, his grin returning, slower this time. “Oh, kiddo…” he murmured, his tone almost tender.

Jason’s voice cracked again, his words dissolving into sobs. “Just… give me that. Please… please… don’t take her from me… Don’t make me forget her… please…”

Joker stepped closer, crouching again to meet Jason’s tear-streaked gaze. He cupped Jason’s bloodied chin, forcing him to look up.

“Oh, sweet, sweet birdie,” he cooed, his voice soft and mocking. “Don’t you know? She’s already forgotten you.”

Jason’s breath hitched, his chest heaving as the words tore through him like shards of glass.

“She’s out there, laughing, living, loving… while you’re here, rotting away.” Joker’s grin widened, his voice dripping with venom. “And when you’re gone, birdie, no one will even remember you. Not her. Not Batman. No one.”

Jason’s head dropped, his sobs choking him as the Joker’s laughter filled the room once more.

“Truth or Pain, birdie?” Joker asked, raising the crowbar again. “Oops! Looks like it’s both!”

And the blows rained down again, each one erasing a little more of Jason, until all that was left was a broken, empty husk whispering one name into the darkness.

“Y/N…”

Next: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 5.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[menkhu]

the holistic doctor told me she loved me after a single call

[alnilaem]

cw for kidnapping and emotional manipulation

-

Ghost spots a bird across the pub with her wings clipped. She trembles as she watches her friend disappear into the sea of gyrating bodies, holding onto a man she just met and is deciding to abandon her for.

“You don’t mind, right?” Her friend had asked.

She chirped ditheringly. “Um… sure, yeah. You go have fun.”

A fickle smile split her cheeks. A warm wash of liquid glossed her eyes.

Ghost watches her watching her friend. Sadness is written into her features. That type of sadness so deep-seated you feel it crushing your ribs, denting your heart. She sighs and hangs her head, staring down at her drink. Her ice cube has melted, the salt crusting her rim having hardened. Her shoulder start to shake.

Ghost decides it would be remiss of him to not check up on her. The bird with frilly feathers and bent wings, wounded, too feeble to fight back.

He throws back the rest of his drink. He doesn’t wince at the burn, but still, Ghost’s face puckers into something different. Something mean as he approaches her and lays his elbow on the bar’s sticky countertop, splitting his hand across the top of her spine.

“What’s a bird like you doin’ all alone?”

She girdles. It’s like she’s been folded in two and hung out to dry, the way she shrinks into herself and flexes her shoulders.

His words hang stagnant for a few seconds. Perhaps it will make him lose interest and slip away, but Ghost is a persistent one. The badges embroidered into his uniform are a testament to that.

He passes his thumb over her neck. She shivers.

“I… um. Well, my boyfriend’s in the bathroom.”

Ghost almost chuckles. The bird says it with such skittish conviction that surely, not even she believes it.

He grunts. “It’s rude to lie, y’know.”

She gulps. “My friend’s with me.”

“The one that just left you?” He asks. “A pretty shit friend, if you ask me. A bird like you deserves someone better.”

She purses her lips because they begin to quiver. She tries shouldering him away, tries blinking back the fat tears of brine that threaten to thaw and slip down her cheek. Her voice is distorted with discomfort and self-pity when she replies, “That’s stupid. I just want her to be happy.”

“And her?” Ghost prompts. He distracts her with his rough lilt as he slips his hand low, into the divot between her ass and waist. “How often does she fuck off with the men you fancy?“

She flinches. It’s the sudden recoil of her muscles, and her mind’s attempt at getting away from him.

“I-it’s not like that.”

“Yeah?” He asks. “It’s not like she leaves you alone every time you go out, lookin’ like a dolt when she finds someone more fun?”

She swallows thickly. Her lips warble around her next words. “… Sometimes, I guess.”

Ghost’s cock jumps. The fat mass pushes against his jeans, angled towards her.

“Yeah,” he croons. “I know how hard it can be. Why don’t you come over to my flat, huh? Give ‘er a taste of her own medicine.”

She inches away. Ghost only holds her tighter, gripping that broken little wing of hers and doting on it.

“I don’t… do that stuff. Sorry.”

Something primal in Ghost barks. That stuff. She’s never taken dick? Or never taken dick from a stranger? Either way, Ghost’s cock stirs and starts drooling on his thigh. She can probably see it. That blotchy stain on his jeans under the mellow lighting.

“I play nice, bird,” he mutters. “And wouldn’t it be nice to get back at them? Your mate? All those blokes who ignored you?”

She squeezes her thighs when Ghost settles his hand on her ass. She has trouble pulling them back apart, her thighs that is, as they’re adhered with slick.

“I asked you a question. Wouldn’t it be nice?”

“I guess so…” she whimpers. Keening into Ghost’s whispering touch, the heat of his cock.

He pulls a wad of cash from his pocket and slams it onto the table. He stands up, looking something like a predator on its hind legs, and pulls her from the barstool.

“Let’s go, pretty bird,” he leashes his hand around the base of her neck, leading her outside and into his rust-spattered truck. “You deserve it.”

A stroke of heat licks up her innards. She’s already dazed by the time she’s in his truck, preening as he splits his hand across her leg and digs divots into her thigh, kneading her supple flesh. She’s bleary eyes and impaired on arousal as they drive past the city’s margins and into the outback, the roads turning pebbled.

She’s too excited, too sweet to heed Ghost pulling her out of his truck and hauling her into a neglected flat.

She only feels his hands on her, big and warm. And the cool carbon steel of handcuffs locking around her ankle.

She smiles.

[milksnake-tea]

━━ say you still dare to dream .

Sunday has lost everything. His status, his home, his sister, all of it has slipped through his fingers, all for a failed attempt at salvation. Now imprisoned and destined to live his life in shameful shadow, you, his former subordinate, appear to offer him one last chance of redemption.

sunday x gn!reader

contains: aftermath of 2.3, depression, sunday at his lowest

word count: 1.5k

a/n: depressed sunday is my favorite sunday. like damn bro you got BROKEN ig this is what being rammed by a train 8 times does to a man... ANYWAYS. DONT TAKE THIS TOO SERIOUSLY THIS IS JUST ME DOING SOME WRITING PRACTICE WITH BEING DRAMATIC hunches over and dies

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina

“I can only allow you a few minutes at most,” says the woman in purple.

A devil in velvet, that was what they called her. Although she may not look like much - from a distance, you’d mistake her as yet another filthy rich vacationer of Penacony - up close, her snake-like eyes and elegantly poised stature, always ready to strike unsuspecting prey, told you just how dangerous she was.

Lady Bonajade, the Stoneheart of Credit and the most deranged loan shark the galaxy had to offer. She who does the impossible and creates miracles for the price of one’s livelihood.

She, who is currently the master who holds the life of the fallen Oak Family Head in her perfectly manicured hands.

You meet her chilling gaze with steeled eyes. With a deep breath, you force down the lodge in your throat.

“I understand.”

Jade smiles. It is neither threatening nor comforting, although you cannot help but feel unsettled by her calm amusement.

“Most of the Family has turned their back on Mr. Sunday,” she comments, crossing her arms and tapping one nail against her arm. “Why haven’t you, I wonder? Surely, a mere subordinate wouldn’t be so loyal to a traitor of this degree.”

You know better than to answer her. After all, all of her questions are rhetorical - tests. She already knows their answers, she just wants to hear them come from your lips.

But you don’t give her that satisfaction. Your silence is answer enough.

You walk past her and come before a heavily armored vault door. A bit much, in your opinion, for a man who has spent the majority of his life asleep. But he is also the man who had taken control of the Asdana system and nearly ascended into Aeonhood, so this level of security is to be expected.

Hundreds of locks and gears turn before the doors open with a hiss and a billowing of smoke. With a mental prayer to Xipe for strength, you step into the dark cell.

There’s little to no light in the small room, leaving you to wonder how Sunday had managed to stay sane all this time. You already know the cells are essentially soundproof, and with so little light, the Family’s prisoners were shut off from the rest of the world and their senses.

The brief rustle of chains catches your attention, and you turn your gaze to the iron throne at the center of the room.

Oh, how far he has fallen.

Once gleaming gold has lost its luster, reflecting not sympathy nor love like you had known them to, but defeat and a resigned acceptance. Fair skin has become drained and faded like that of a corpse. Feather-like hair, once so meticulously cared for, is ruined and frayed.

Bound are the hands that would never raise against another, and shackled are the wings that have never known flight. Caged is the bird who has known no other home; only now, his gilded shackles have become sullied, ugly, disdainful.

He is hollow, empty in every sense of the word - drained of what little vitality he once had.

“Sir,” comes your whisper. He doesn’t respond.

Your footsteps are heavy as you approach. Sunday’s head is bowed - something his pride would’ve never allowed back in the day.

Once upon a time, you had found his arrogance annoying, hypocritical even. Yet at the same time, it was endearing, knowing that even the perfect and saint-like Sunday had his faults. In a sense, it had brought him down to earth, it had made him human.

Seeing him like this, so despondent and defeated, makes you long for the days where he’d scoff at the IPC or make back-handed compliments for his own sick pleasure.

“Sir,” you repeat. You stop before him, and kneel down to one knee.

Sunday’s eyes flick to meet yours, before dropping down to his lap, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. Out of guilt, or out of scorn, you don’t know.

“Why have you come?”

Your heart aches at his voice. It cracks from the days without use, deeper than his typical chirp.

“I am a sinner, a traitor to the Family.” Not once does he meet your gaze again as he speaks. “Visiting me…”

He exhales.

“You should leave.”

“I won’t.”

His hands clench from where they’re bound to the arms of his throne. Briefly, annoyance flashes over him, before he lets it wash away with a slump of his shoulders.

“It would be easier if you just- left me here,” he says painstakingly. “I am of no use to you anymore - if anything, I am a stain. Abandoning me… is the logical thing to do.”

“You and your logistics,” you sigh. “Did it never once occur to you that I cared for you as a person, and not just as my superior?”

His eyes are shaking. Sunday’s expression is pained, like that of a grieving mother.

“Why?” he asks again, his face straining as he tries to understand. “Why are you here?”

Your answer is simple. “To free you.”

Bitterly, the corners of his lips twitch in a cynical chuckle.

“You of all people should know that I was not meant for freedom,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “That is what you believe. Lady Bonajade and I agree that you deserve to have this chance.”

“Lady Jade, huh?” Resentment flashes in his irises as he scoffs. “So you intend to coerce me into accepting charity from the IPC?”

Hurt pangs at your chest and you flinch. “That isn’t-”

“Spare me the concern,” Sunday spits, turning his head. “I may have fallen, but I still have my pride. If that’s all you have to say, you can leave.”

For a moment, you are speechless. Then you are indignant, and you rise slightly, your brows furrowed.

“Why are you so willing to accept your fate?” you ask, almost angrily.

Sunday exhales. “What else am I expected do?”

“This can’t be how your story ends." Your fist balls up the fabric of your pants in its grip. “Locked away, isolated from the rest of the world - that can’t be what you want. It is too cruel a fate for you.”

For you, who loved humanity so deeply.

“Tell me,” you say, gazing up at the man who had torn his skin and carved his heart for the people. “Tell me you want to be freed, and I will do so. I’ll take care of everything. All I need is for you to say that you want it.”

He shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut.

“I don’t understand,” he whispers after a moment of silence. “Why, for me…”

“What is there to understand?”

“This is unreasonable,” he starts.

“Not for me, it isn’t,” you say softly. “If it’s for you, nothing is unreasonable.”

His voice raises, trembling upon its crumbling pedestal, panic seeping into every word. “I don’t deserve that kindness - that mercy. I am a sinner, I am a traitor, I am-”

“You are a man worth saving.”

Sunday’s eyes fly open. He stares at you, eyes wide with surprise, his lips parted as to say something, only for the words to die on his tongue.

Your neck is beginning to hurt from how long you’ve been looking up at him, but you push the pain aside.

“The Sunday I knew was kind and gentle,” you say, subconsciously leaning forward. Pent-up emotions, cumulated through the years, begin to bleed into your voice, weighing it down. “He always looked out for the weak, and cared when no one else did. He put others before himself, and even if he was a little arrogant, he was selfless.”

“No,” Sunday protests weakly. “I am not- You- I-”

“You are so much more than you allow yourself to be.”

Rising from the floor, your knees aching slightly, you gently take the face of the fallen angel in your hand. Cradling him like glass, you force him to look at you, to look one of the many he’d betrayed in the face, and see the love for him despite it all.

“Sunday, do you wish for freedom?”

For the many years you’ve worked under him, his eyes have always been a cold gem, calm and unfettered. Never have you seen them glossy with tears, threatening to break at any moment.

You see fear and desire clashing as he grapples for the first time, a choice not for the people, but for himself. You see the beliefs that have been molded into him beginning to crack. You see the caged bird gaze at the world beyond his bars, and for the first time, want to soar beyond them.

Sunday’s lips open and close as he struggles to find the right words to say.

“Where will I go?” he asks instead, tearing his gaze away. It is answer enough.

You smile softly.

“Anywhere you desire.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[utterlyotterlyx]

Can I request something where Azriel has to pick up Nyx from school one day and thinks his teacher is cute & is very flirty with her?

Yes! Love this idea so much!

When I Kissed The Teacher

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Feyre loves Nyx's teacher but loves playing matchmaker even more. After sending Azriel to collect Nyx from school one day after feigning a studio related emergency, she's very happy to learn that Azriel's affections are completely in the palm of your hand.

Warnings - none really, just cuteness all round

Feyre had always been worried about sending Nyx off to school, even though she believed Rhys when he told her that the schools of Velaris were the best in Prythian, she couldn't help but feel anxious that he wouldn't thrive.

Then she met you, and all of her worries faded away.

You were everything Feyre wanted in a teacher for her child, it had taken a lot of weight throwing to get him into your class, it was full to the brim of children from higher born families, only wanting the best for their offspring. Feyre wasn't even surprised.

It was clear how much you cared about your children, in nurturing them into intelligently creative creatures. Other teachers focused solely on the academics, but you had a passion for the arts, you said creativity helped children to find their passions and grow into more compassionate and joyful souls.

Nyx had run into her arms when she had come to collect him that first day, babbling on about what a wonderful time he had with you. Miss Y/L/N. Feyre had never seen such wonderment in his eyes when he told her in that broken infant language how great you were. Everyone's worries about Nyx becoming a shell had vanished.

The little thing had returned home with paintings, reciting poetry from your favourite passages; he had the desire to read, making different voices for the different characters like he had learned from you. Nyx was well and truly flourishing.

Feyre had insisted that you walk home with them one afternoon, since you only lived five minutes from the River House and it was on your route home anyway. From that walk, Feyre had learned much about you, that you were from Spring but left after being disowned by your family for wanting more from life than being married away to be used as a breeding tool. After that you had travelled the continent, making many friends along the way and opening your mind to the world before settling in Hewn City, only to be brought to Velaris on Rhys' orders because he had heard of your talents and passion and wanted it taking root in the children of his city.

The more you spoke, rambling on about art and books and theatre, did Feyre come to the realisation that a certain someone would be absolutely besotted with you. When you had hugged Nyx goodbye, ruffling his hair and telling him you'd see him in the morning, did Feyre begin to hatch her plan.

Azriel wasn't one for sunshine and rainbows, but even he had to admit that Nyx's and Feyre's gushings about you had him intrigued, even Rhys had commented on how sweet you were, seemingly very fond of how Nyx was excelling under your wing.

"Az, would you mind grabbing Nyx today? I have to head to the studio, delivery emergency," Feyre floated past him toward the door, a thin cloak fitted around her shoulders to protect her from the afternoon summer breeze that drifted along the Sidra.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," he waved Feyre from the house as she dashed down the path shouting over her shoulder what time to be at the school for.

The sun was beginning to dip in the sky but warmth still flew through Velaris, Azriel walked along the winding paths and up the hill to the school, the skittering sound of children's laughter filling his ears as he approached. Parents parted as he walked down the cobbled stone path, not wanting to graze against his wings with slight unease in their eyes. Azriel was used to it by now, the looks of disapproval, the slight fear in the people he passed.

The bell rang and birds shot to perch on the branches of the trees that surrounded the plush gardens teeming with bright flowers and wildlife. Children began to file out from the open door, grabbing their bags and running to their parents with wide smiles, excited to tell them what you had taught them that day.

Azriel spied the inside wall littered will paintings and cards, all addressed to you, as well as a wooden table filled with the gifts the children had no doubt made their parents purchase for you.

Then he saw you, and the Shadowsinger audibly gasped. There you were, dressed in a loose white blouse with stringed corset, an earthy brown skirt that fell to the floor covered in colourful handprints that reached your thighs, your hair was unbound and baby hairs whispered along the sides of your face.

You were sunshine. You were radiant.

Nyx's hand was curled in your own as you led him out of the classroom and Azriel could have sworn he'd never seen a brighter look on anyone's face as the little man searched the crowd, "Uncle, Az!"

Your gaze had also fallen on him and you drank in his smile as Nyx left your grip and hurtled to the Shadowsinger, his grin was large, showing off all of his teeth as he bent down and wrapped Nyx in his toned arms, laughing loudly and asking about his day before standing up.

"I don't think we've ever formally met," you held your free hand out, your other carrying Nyx's bag, "I'm Y/N, well, Miss Y/L/N."

You were as soft as summer rain, adoration in your orbs, and you radiated purity and grace. Azriel glanced at your outstretched hand, sliding his own into it and feeling a force of gravity will him closer to you, "So you're the one that has Nyx ready for school at the crack of dawn," he felt relief when you didn't recoil at his hand in yours, the hands that usually made people grimace, "Azriel," you giggled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your pointed ear.

High Fae.

"Guilty as charged," your voice was like butter, smooth and rich, the perfect balance of femineity.

"Can't say I blame him," he smirked at the heat that rose to his cheeks, at the sheepish smile that tugged at your lips.

"That's very nice of you to say," one of your students walked past you, waving goodbye, and Azriel watched you bend down and fix her jacket to her body, telling her to have a lovely weekend in the sun, "Nyx has had a lovely day today. He just keeps on flourishing, it's remarkable," you had told him once you had risen again.

"I'm sure anyone could flourish with you around. Must be the Y/N effect," he cocked his head to the side at your giggle, just happy to be able to examine the woman who had Nyx all excited every morning. Feyre and Rhys were right, you were remarkable. Like a rainbow rippling in a storm.

"Must be it," the birds jumped from branch to branch around you, like they wanted to keep an eye on you for as long as possible, flitting to the bird houses you had erected by the pond of ducks and in the trees.

"Would you like to walk home with us? Feyre mentioned that you didn't live too far from the house?"

Your mouth fell into the perfect o shape, "Oh, I wouldn't want to impose-"

"You're not," Azriel smiled, looking down at Nyx, shaking his little hand and asking, "Is she, Nyx? Would you like Miss Y/L/N to walk home with us?"

"Yes!" Nyx shouted and you laughed, a laugh that made the edges of your eyes crinkle, you disappeared into the building, returning a few moments later with you satchel, locking the door and taking Nyx's free hand in your own after handing his bag to Azriel.

Azriel was positive that he'd never seen Nyx shine so brightly.

The walk home was full of light chatter, you made Azriel laugh more times than you could count, and Nyx was pointing out random things along the way, looking up at you for approval and tapping his feet on the ground when you nodded and smiled.

From the house, Feyre watched through the curtains as Nyx ran up the path, and kept watching as Azriel lingered behind, she wished she could hear what he was saying to you. But as you smiled, and blushed, and then nodded at the Shadowsinger who was kicking his feet like a schoolboy, she knew it was going well.

Strong arms wrapped around her midsection and her back hit a hard chest, his deep chuckle vibrated through him and his warm breath fanned against her ear, "Playing matchmaker again, darling?"

Feyre hummed with a gentle smile, accepting the peppering kisses over her shoulder as she watched you walk away, looking back at Azriel and waving before turning the corner, "I think this is my best one yet," she told Rhys, noticing the pursed smile on Azriel's lips and the faint pink tinge to his complexion as he followed Nyx up the path.

"I'm inclined to agree."

SO CUTE!

Thank you for the request! x

[serendipitous-girl]

𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞

⊱✿⊰ summary: your family wants to protect you but its impossible with the life you all lead

⊱✿⊰ warnings: kidnapping, minor torture, it will be angsty, almost dying, spitting on your face, the joker deserves his own warning tbh

⊱✿⊰ notes: this is for skye because she wanted some angsty batfam stuff and here we are. I am just shitting on the page and hoping words form at this point. I hope you enjoy and feel free to send me requests. Also this is a platonic fic sorry if you were hoping for romance action

⊱✿⊰ tags: @kozumesphone @fizzywashere87 @fashionablysouly @witherwallflower @goldierey

@finleyforevermore @baecakie @gergthecat @mqstermindswift @anyas-shitposting69 (comment on this or send me an ask if you want to be added to my DC taglist)

"Well, well, well. Looks like baby bird got caged." The clown sneered, leaning close to your face. You scrunched your nose and tried to scoot away despite the ropes scratching your wrists raw.

The Joker's finger runs along your cheek, a horrific grin on his face as he stared at you. You tried to keep a brave face, you tried to act like the domino mask over your eyes was really a shield. You tried to act like your dad, Batman.

Maybe it was your fault you got kidnapped. He said you weren't ready to go out and patrol with your family, but you went away. You stole one of Damian's mask and put on the most costume adjacent clothes you owned.

"Where should I start, little one?" Joker asked, breaking your train of thoughts. Placing blame would be set for another time. Not now, its not time yet. "Should I give you a smile that matches mine? Should I turn you into a firey decoration before dear ol' daddy bat gets here?"

You winced, trying to prevent the ice filling your veins and the fear weighing your stomach down. The Joker grabbed a knife from his table that had numerous weapons littered on top. Carefully the cold metal of the blade brushed against your skin, not harsh enough to cut just yet. He wanted to scare you first.

•───────────•°•❀•°•──────────•

"I am going to kill that son of a bitch." Jason growled as soon as he heard the news. Bruce gathered the family in the batcave, and explained the Joker had kidnapped the youngest of the family- you.

"Jason, I understand your frustration but we can't act with haste. I won't let her face the same fate you did. I won't make the same mistake twice." Bruce replied, already dressed as Batman. He was doing his best to stay professional despite his fear being ever present.

"I don't want to wait too long either." Dick added, crossing his arms over his chest. Everybody was tense, wanting their sister to be safe once again.

"I'll find where that stupid clown is keeping [Name]." Tim said, standing up and rushing towards the computer before anybody could even reply. Barbara silently followed, knowing she would be the most help to Tim.

Bruce looked at all of his family and nodded, "We'll find her and get her back."

•───────────•°•❀•°•──────────•

Your throat was hoarse and tears had dried on your face. There was no point to fighting it anymore, you only hoped he would kill you soon.

"Aw but doesn't the bird look good with her wings marked?" The Joker chuckled, slicing yet another line into your arm. The cuts were deep, sure to scar, and they were deliberate. You could only guess what he was spelling on your arms.

With the amount of blood flowing down your arms like a red river, it was to no surprise you were fading in and out of consciousness. That would be nice, at least you wouldn't be awake while he tortured you.

You almost settled into the pain, eyes fluttering close to let yourself rest, when you heard a crash. Glass was broken and there was yelling everywhere.

The Joker grabbed your face with his hand and forced you to look forward, where you saw your family (the only thing disguising their horrified looks were their masks)

"Looks like they showed up in time for you, baby bird." He grinned, spitting on your cheek. You were too tired, too fragile to even bother being disgusted. It was better than the cutting.

"Let her go and I'll think about not crushing your head into the wall." Red Hood barked out, already aiming his gun at The Joker. You tried to pay more attention but you were fading slowly,, ready to force your body to rest.

The Joker dropped your body like it was nothing, your face smashing into the concrete. It hurt, pain forming in your forehead but it was a distraction from the blood oozing out of you.

Despite your best efforts, you finally blacked out. The last thing you saw was your family lunging at the Joker, rage thick in the air.

Light flooded your eyes, fresh air blasting your lungs. You were laying down on something soft and warm, contrasting against the mildly scratchy fabric on your skin. You blinked your eyes a few times, forcing them to focus despite the dull ache pounding in your head.

"You're awake." Damian said, apparently sitting beside you. It took a little while but you realized you were in the personal hospital at the manor. He had a few scratches and bruises but nothing as horrific as the scars on your skin (and in your brain.)

"Wha-what..happened?" You croaked, throat feeling like sandpaper. Like magic, Dick appeared with a glass of water you gratefully took. The liquid in your throat was almost heavenly in the way it made you feel infinitely better.

"The Joker kidnapped you and we rescued you." Your father explained calmly, not bothering to add details. Which was probably good for you, the devil's in details.

"I'm glad your back, sis." Jason said, making you suddenly aware of his presence in the back of the room. Your entire family seemed to be in here, ready to see your betterment. Despite he general aversion to touch, Jason wrapped you into a hug.

Of course, everybody else joined in (forcefully or not) for a big group hug. You laughed, despite the hollow of your heart, watching as Tim was pushed into the hug by Dick.. It was ridiculous having a group hug after a traumatic event...how family sitcom could you get?

But somehow, it felt good to be in the arm's of your family. It felt like home.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[zhongrin]

“honey, can you… get us a pet?”

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, childe, tighnari, kaveh, pantalone, cyno

◇ tags ◇ fluff, crack, dragon!li

◇ a/n ◇ all i want in life is a zhongli and a al haitham with their chosen pets is that really too much to ask

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli, predictably, brings back a dog. before you ask, it’s a very normal dog that isn’t the size of a mountain and is unable to control the elements. it’s a common house pet, a sign of luck and auspiciousness, plus he’s a very good boy!

………. just. don’t coddle rex jr. too much, okay? rex sr. is still a half-dragon after all.

al haitham brings back a pot of some rare plant he got at the grand bazaar... what? plants are pets too. an even better version, he argues, especially since this particular one should bear small edible fruits when they grow enough. plus, they’re quiet and will let him read in peace.

hey, it’s your fault for never specifying what kind of pet you wanted him to get.

childe brings back an otter. where did he get it? no one knows. don’t ask. where will he put it? uhhh. no worries, he’ll put the otter in your bathtub for now, but he’ll commission someone to dig up a pool for them to float around! it’ll be fineeee!

tighnari sits you down and lectures you about the responsibilities of a pet owner for two straight hours to make sure you truly understand what you’re asking of him first. adopting a pet is a huge step in your life and he wants to make sure you fully understand what you’re getting into.

plus, you might want to take into consideration that your fox hybrid lover inherits that territorial behavior from his ancestors…?

kaveh jumps at the opportunity. to him, that’s like you’re giving him the green light on bringing animals home. a mistake on your part, honestly.

it’s day three and you’re now housing: an unexpectedly tame dendro slime with a withered flower on its head, two very weakened and starving desert foxes, one forest fox with one eye, and a little bird with a broken wing.

good luck.

pantalone merely chuckles yet the very next day you find the most elegant, purebred siberian forest cat delivered straight to your lavish shared abode’s doorstep. she’s groomed to perfection, well-trained, and a joy to be around.

the most beautiful cat for the most breathtaking person in his life - he thinks it’s very fitting.

cyno unexpectedly brings back a rabbit; a snow-white furred darling with ruby-red eyes that fits on top of your palm. such an innocent-looking, wee little being has become a lethal weapon in cyno’s hand. whenever you deny him of something, you will now see two pairs of eerily similar-colored eyes looking up at you with wet bunny eyes.

darn it.

like father like son, you suppose.

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town

[cheriladycl01]

How the fuck has a bird been the reason I DNFed - Grid x Driver! Reader

Plot: Y/N is racing in Silverstone when a Pigeon flies into her and is stuck to her while she's driving at 200mph around the track until it starts to fly away but gets pulled under the car and causes Y/N to crash out.

"Y/N you are currently P2, Lewis ahead 2.6 second gap" your radio engineer says.

"Copy, increasing" you report.

Sky Sports: Commentator - It's really been a fantastic race at Silverstone, with only 4 laps left to go, it's looking like a Lewis win, Y/N behind him in P2 and Oscar Piastri who just overtook Max Verstappen. WHAT'S THIS Y/N JUST HAD A BIT OF A TWITCH ON TRACK! She remains steady but... was that debris? Commentator - Lets look at that on-board, to me it looks like Y/N's had a bird attack. Oh woah yeah look at that, it flies straight into her. She flinches which is what that twitch was, but she's recovered so well and the birds still in there with her. Commentator - Let's look at that radio.

Y/N Radio: Y/N - A fucking bird just flew into me Radio Engineer - Copy that Y/N - What do you mean copy that, what do i do. It's covering my vision from the left with its wing! Radio Engineer - Go into turn 14, and try shift it off. If not then pull it off on the straight Y/N - I'm driving 200mph and you want me to take my hands off the wheel?

As you swoop round that corner the bird manages to jump out all on its own, without you having to nudge it, where you were slower. However next thing you know as your speeding down the straight is you see a large mass get sucked under you car. You car jumps slightly with the intrusion under the car and you spin a little, recovering it once again.

"Fuck fuck" you mutter to yourself as the car starts to spit the engine.

"Did you just take the bird under the car?" you engineer asks and you let out a small whimper. You couldn't believe you'd just killed a bird with your car.

"The car's fuck-" you start, but something gives out in you car and in a freak accident your car skids as you attempt to break. However with the motion of your car clipping the race edging you car flips over multiple times. Where you car was flipping, the gravel wasn't much help to slow you down, and you colliding into the barriers was the only thing you remembered.

Sky Sports: Commentator - And what a nasty crash that is for Y/N, really unfortunate where she was gaining on Lewis. And i think that's a red flag because of the amount of debris and that crash. Everyone's being called back to the pits and the Red Bull Team are looking extremely worried for their youngest driver. Commentator - this just isn't looking good David, no Marshalls have arrived on scene, Y/N isn't replying to her Engineer... everyone in the pits looks worried. These are those crashes that, you just really don't know the outcome...

Y/N Radio: Radio Engineer - Y/N please come in, Y/N are you okay? *Static* Radio Engineer - Y/N, the Marshalls are nearly with you, if the radio is broken, please just give us a hand gesture of something. *static* Radio Engineer - Christian, she's not replying Y/N - How- Radio Engineer - Y/N! Y/N - How the fuck has a bird been the reason I DNFed

Sky Sports: Commentator - Her voice sounds a little strained but, she's getting herself out that wreck as the Marshalls approach. The car engine has just caught alight as well, so the Marshalls will need to look at that.

You pulled yourself out, before putting a week thumbs up to the fans who were all standing round near the barrier waiting to see if you really were okay!

Marshalls came running over, two of three going to defuse the car and the others coming to check on you.

"You okay kid?" a man asks you, you had your arm wrapped round the front of you, by your ribs. They were most definitely bruised for sure.

"Smells like a fucking fuel infused Christmas dinner" you shout over the loud noises of the crowd and the car being put out before pointing at the roasted Pigeon on the floor next to your car.

The medic bursts out laughing, happy to see that you were okay and cracking jokes.

"Fuck, I just lost P2" you say kicking some of the gravel. You look up seeing the medical car come up to you. You walk over to it explaining your okay, but they refuse saying they need you to come in for observation.

After a long time in observation coming out with a mild concussion, bruised ribs and a sprain you were sent back to see the last few laps of the race. You saw some crew from various new channels film you, making you wave and smile.

You saw Christian and he immediately came from the Pit Wall pulling you into a hug.

"Hey its okay, it's okay! I'm just glad you are okay. That was a freak accident and there wasn't much else we could have done" Christian says rubbing your shoulder.

Everyone was happy too see you, Max ended up overtaking both Oscar and Lewis, coming in first place as a make up for what happened with you.

After the podium you were directed to post race interviews.

"Well, Y/N what a race that was. Could have been a race win but ... talk us through what happened" Will says looking at you and pushing the mic forward.

"Well, its uncommon but yeah. I was driving, pigeon flew into my cockpit and gave me the scare of my life. It hit my chest and helmet hard which caused that spin. And from there on it was a shit show, and I ended up crashing. Considering that wasn't a crash with another car, that's one of the worst I've been in! I blacked out and don't remember too much" you explain and he nods in thought.

"Yeah, you definitely had us all worries there! That's up there with the nastiest crashes I've witnessed. We're just all glad your okay!" he smiles and with that your sent off.

You went online to see everyone making memes of you and the bird and your funny radios.

All the other drivers had messaged you to make sure that you were okay, and you'd been treated to dinner by Max and Christian who felt bad about your scare today.

But overall, if you ever see a bird on the track again, you'll probably cry!

A/N: Just a small little drabble!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo

[tubbytarchia]

Traffic/Life series roster as dinosaurs

A lot of these don't make for very good hybrids unless you wanna get into freaky territory or full on centaur but... Hope it's a fun scroll nonetheless!

Grian - Novialoidea

A small birdie... The name also means "New wings" which I find fun. New lives and death games to be part of, new wings to accompany him... (Honorable mention to "Shuvuuia" the "desert bird" who unfortunately is not a pterosaur (doesn't fly)) (Yes we're including pterosaurs! Just using "dinosaur" as a conveient blanket term)

Tango - Aratasaurus / Pyroraptor

Fire raptor! Either works just fine and Tango as a skittery little raptor is perfect for a creature like him

Scar - Apatosaurus

"Deceptive Lizard" harkening back to Scar's scamming tendencies. Though I've always liked the idea of him being some larger gentler animal in any hybrid scenario and a long-neck fits the bill well. He can poke his nose into people's conversations easily to start marketing something useless to them and swishes his tail to ward off anyone who's about to stop him

Impulse - Nasutoceratops

Ren - Regaliceratops

Horns. COOL horns. I don't know what else you want from me ceratopses are just way too awesome. Nasutoceratops is a wicked cool dinosaur for having its horns point so forward much like a bull and I for one can jive with some Impulse bull symbolism. Bulls are often viewed as strong, sturdy and loyal, traits also assigned to Impulse a LOT of the time. But though he IS intensely loyal in many cases (+ Ceratopses are also known for how they defend their own!), and he's not very outward about the following traits, he can get quite petty and bitchy and hold grudges. Still, you don't think of that when you look at him and he seems to agree! Eg him feeling like he should be accepted into Cleo's alliance in 3rd life without actually proving himself when Cleo was rightfully hesitant, at which Impulse more or less rolled his eyes. And him proclaiming "betrayal!" when killed by Bdubs when their alliance was as firm as a rat's tail

(And I feel the need to point this out too just in case: "bulls are also known for their temper" yeah but they're not like that! Bulls like many animals become defensive when exposed to aggravating behavior or movement! Which you could work into Impulse's grudge holding and intense loyalty...? I don't know enough about him sorry but do with that what you will)

Regaliceratops! Regal!! Crown shaped frill!!! Need I say more?

Gem - Therizinosaurus

Theris are so bad bitch coated to me and I would love to have one as my wife I mean um I couldn't decide on a less generic specimen so Gem can just be a Theri! A herbivore - often associated with the belief that herbivores are gentle passive creatures, but far from it, especially with Gem! She bares her claws like it's no one's business

Martyn - Stygmoloch

A Pachy with a tough head and a tendency to bonk people - I think it fits Martyn's tendency to perpetuate drama haha. The Stygmoloch's name though more or less translates to "demon of the styx river", the river of the underworld representing loathing of death. To me this makes sense with all the watcher lore (that I have a hard time understanding but whatever!!) especially with how Martyn became in LL. The watchers themselves don't loathe death (??) of course. They're death games. But someone within the game trying to stay alive and win? Probably loathes the idea of themselves dying. I have no clue what Im saying

Pearl - Carnotaurus

Ok maybe a hot take not to make her into a pteradon or even a raptor with wing-like features but those just didn't fit that well in my opinion. Rather I wanted her to have some kind of horn motif in place of her wings as visual symbolism for her character. I'd like to imagine her having fine horns, to then have them damaged (one broken off) and simultaneously the other more grown out. Think of how domesticated goats for example have their horns trimmed. I think human hybrids with horns would do the same to keep them from becoming a bother but Pearl would neglect to after her heartbreak in DL. I was heavily considering the Diabloceratops for this, especially because of the name (Devil horned face - good ostracizing material) but Pearl strikes me a lot more as a carnivore and there are only two horned carnivores out there so... Carnotaurus it is haha. And even now I'm making her horns unrealistically big but.... We can suspend some belief

BigB - Oryctodromeus

"Digging Runner"! I've already talked plenty of why BigB is very rabbit behavior to me and my reasons for assigning this burrowing dinosaur to him are similar. Tldr he is fidgety and cautious yet clever and constantly buries himself underground

Lizzie - Anurognathidae

I don't even fucking know man it made me think of Lizzie and then I wasn't able to assign anything else to her. Lizzie often claims to be confused and if any dinosaur looks to be in a perpetual state of confusion then its this one. I know a lot of people like to portray Lizzie as a butterfly also so there you go, wings!!! And it's quite cat-like too for those who like to draw her as a cat

Mumbo - Leinkupal

I really struggled with Mumbo... So many different dinos fit him imo but I figured it should be at least something moderately large (so "Technosaurus" was out of the question lol). Then I rediscovered this dinosaur whose name translates to "vanishing family" and then I thought about LL and SL and how Mumbo went out quickly after the initial death/s and left a very felt absence in someone's alliance and then I became really emotional and forgot what I was doing

Joel - Nodocephalosaurus

Bdubs - Psittacosaurus

"Knob Headed Lizard"

Joel as an Ankylosaur has been stuck in my head from day one of assigning dinosaurs to the Lifers and I'm frustrated that I can't truly explain why. You'd view an Ankylosaur as a slow and docile creature, even compared to other herbivores, but...

1. Maybe not so much nowadays, I don't know what non-dino nerds think, but I feel like ankylosaurs were largely believed to be HUGE back in the day, much like velociraptors, when in reality they're not that big. The Nodocephalosaurus is especially small even among other ankylosaurs. But, well, we all know what Joel loves to say about himself

2. Joel is or likes to make himself look well in control, just as ankylosaurs have little to worry about as far as predators go. Especially in earlier series where he was content basing mostly by himself. It's always when things get dire and he enters his red life that he becomes very impulsive and erratic like an ankylosaur flipped on its back

3. I know there's a distinction between Traffic Joel and Empires Joel and whatever other Joel but... Even in death games his more charitable traits shine through here and there. He really becomes a dangerous rascal for a large majority of the time and he's very good at it, he's not putting on a mask or anything, but I like to remember that underneath that tough spiky armor is gentleness and caring. His care towards Lizzie and Pearl and Etho etc etc

4. The image of Joel as a hell of a spiky creature is just really fun to me. Yet heavy and blunt ones! And someone once proposed the idea of him having a club tail but having chiselled it to be sharp to mirror him being a menace. (Added benefit also that it's lighter that way haha) To me he's always been an obvious heavy hitter rather than stealthy or particularly creative etc. Him as a carnivore just doesn't work as well for me

The name bares no fitting meaning but when I look at Bdubs I think of Psittaco. All other species close to it in looks are already ceratopsians and we have like... 3 of those already lol. Im sorry Bdubs you look so stupid

Cleo - Lythronax

There's so few predators in this roster lol oops, but Cleo deserves to be an apex one! The name translates to "Gore King" because you know, zombies... and you know, Cleo is very king so true. If any of the Lifers should be able to boast rows of razor sharp teeth to gore others it should be ZombieCleo

Scott - Theiophytalia

I've been really struggling with Scott but how about the dinosaur whose name translates to "Belonging to the garden of Gods". There's only one known specimen of this species and it's an Iguanadon looking dinosaur which I think a lot of people would regard as the most basic, possibly boring type of dinosaur (if it weren't for the Allosaurus which already takes the title of "basic straight white guy") but that further fits Scott imo. It's always been a strong point of appeal to me how MUCH there is to his character that so often goes under the radar or unexplored, and how he's very often portrayed as just some handsome looking guy as opposed to a hybrid etc. He's not at all extravagant yet has mastered his craft of bending fate in his favor, he so often has things perfectly under his control just as he wants them, etc... reflective of the name "Theiophytalia" even if you wouldn't think such a dinosaur to sport one of the most prolific names a dinosaur can have. Also garden something something flower husbans. Basically whatever Bree's take on Scott is lol. I don't wanna blab for 5 paragraphs about that blue mf here but. I hope this makes sense

Jimmy - Yinlong

I struggled with this mf the most because he's another very hashtag deep character. I felt really bad to remove his bird motifs completely because the canary is so essential to him, but a raptor nor a pteradon fit my image of him at all. I spent so much time looking into various species but it just aint it, but Yinlong was possibly quilled and we can still cover him in feathers, even if he has nothing close to wings haha... BUT ANYWAY. Yinlong is a small kind of pathetic looking dinosaur, and Jimmy definitely isn't small but he'd sure be made to feel that way. Yinlong translates to "Hidden Dragon" however, a rather thought-provoking name for such a dinosaur. Given his character, it sure does feel like there's a soul of a dragon laying dormant somewhere in him, buried by all the self deprecation and curse labels. Honorable mention to Tianyulong, a very similar dinosaur who was named after a museum, but "Tianyu" also translates to peace and content. Something that Jimmy can't yet but deserves to be

Etho - undefined raptor

Already made a loong post about raptor Etho haha which I assume yall have seen since the support towards that post is the only reason I'm even making this post

Skizz - Olorotitan

"Titanic Swan" close enough to an angel right. I feel the whole angel thing is a bit overdone when Skizz can become a malicious little creature every now and then, but swans much like angels do get viewed as beautiful and taken as symbolism of love. Much like Skizz is largely viewed as an angel and often as someone who can do no wrong. But mostly I wanted Skizz to be a hadrosaur/duck-billed dinosaur, because those are dinosaurs known for their speculated vocalizations. And what is Skizz good at? Talking and voicing his love and appreciation? Yeah? Yeah... I'm so sorry Skizz btw this hybrid idea does not work out

Again, a lot of these don't work so well as hybrids... Some like the long-neck ones I cant imagine to have more than a spiky spine back and a tail, but! These picks aren't based on hybrid potential but rather what I think genuinely fits. I did really work on this all day looking through a bunch of dinosaurs and research haha, but I do love dinosaurs a lot... If you disagree with any hey thats cool! Feel free to give me your opinions if you've any and I hope this was fun to scroll through regardless

[lilacs-stash]

@norazingrid I do dare to disagree /lh (my first fandom was mlp I have one million opinions on this)

Earth: Knife's character is very tied to physical strength, which fits earth pony magic. Same thing with Baseball, Blueberry, and Trophy. Apple is an apple. Applejack. Yes. Box Nickel Pickle Pepper and Dough it just feels right for.

Pegasus: Marsh has defied gravity in S1. Fan and Paper blow away in the wind. Toilet can fly. And OJ I like to draw with little juice wings. And Suitcase is the same character as Fluttershy 👍 /j

Unicorn: Mic would have sound based magic she'd have a hard time controlling. Lightbulb would have light based magic. TK's spout is horn shaped. You could give Tissues a broken horn. Bomb would have explosive magic and potential a broken horn as well. The Cherries stem is kinda horn shaped. Test tube and Cobs need magic to properly build their machinery

Hippogriff/Seapony: Balloon is both very bird and fish, Lifering is just a fish.

Batpony: Bow's triangles look like wings but also she was reintroduced in a Halloween special

Magic alicorn: For those who don't know this is what I consider Sunny Starscout and Sunset Shimmer. Basically you aren't physically an alicorn but have the magic of one. Candle's body is a unicorn, Silver's an earth pony, and Clover's a Pegasus.

Changeling hybrid: He could have the holes in his legs. Like cheese

Chageling: Bot's whole arc has to do with being in a body that isn't theirs and have bug theming, so changeling is perfect. Goo is a bug to me and just doesn't fit anything else. Taco is mostly here because of the invisibow and her hiding her arms.

Alicorn: I don't think I need to explain these ones Tbh

Kirin: They catch on fire when mad, so does Painty

Draconequus: Yang causes chaos it's one of his favorite activities. Also nothing else fits

Crystal Unicorn: only using the HC of them having crystal horns, so Salt would have a salt crystal for one

Yak: It just fits for Tyler. Potentially you could also make him a dragon

[grandlinedreams]

|| welcome fellow Ghoul fuckers ily

|| notes: sequel to [this], got nothin' to really say beyond reader and Cooper make the most fucked up implied pseudo parents for Lucy lmao, Canon somewhat compliant, post s1, gonna have to wait for the prequel meeting dic to know why reader knows Coop's whole name

|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, Canon typical gore/violence, something something save a horse ride a cowboy, NSFW ㅡ fingering, edging (i had to take a lap around my house), irradiated cream pie, unprotected sex (supposedly those swimmers are FRIED but I can dream),

The low croak of a crow echoes over the barren stretch of sunbaked, irradiated earth ㅡ and the creature itself lands on the bent, rusted post of a long gone sign. Tilts its head this way and that, blinks liquid black eyes ㅡ three of them. Then squawks indignantly when a bullet narrowly misses it, jet black wings flaring as it takes to the sky to complain in that low, creaking voice.

"Get lost," you tell the bird, glancing at the way Dogmeat tracks the creature. Then she whines, licks at her muzzle like she wants to go catch and eat the damn thing.

"Don't even think about it, pup." You inform her, soothing the disappointment with rough scratches to her head that have her nudging for more before you walk away, sharp whistle summoning her to your side. You don't know why, but she's taken a shine to you over your companions, and you're not about to push her away.

The set up for tonight isn't far off, but it's the skitter of some other creature off in the distance paired with the ominous rumble from above that gets your attention ㅡ and you click your tongue at the foreboding, electric green that rolls in the clouds, cracking with lightning. It isn't nightfall yet, but it's growing closer with that mess on the horizon.

There's a pitiful attempt at a fire being made by Lucy when you return, and she offers a smile that you echo briefly before moving to Cooper's side, nudging him with your boot. "Storm's rollin' in."

He grunts, tugs his hat from where he'd been shading his face ㅡ pretending to sleep to ignore Lucy's still-attempting-to-be-friendly rambles, you suppose. "How far out?"

You shrug, slinging your pack back onto your shoulders. "About an hour, give or take."

Lucy flicks a confused look to both of you as Cooper gets to his feet as well, and her head tilts. "Why're we moving?"

You raise an eyebrow. "You want radiation sickness, vaultie?" It's worth it for the way she bristles, and you snicker. "Come on. There's something of a building not far from here."

You're kind enough to wait for her unlike Cooper, who heads off with Dogmeat while you trail with Lucy.

The building was probably an apartment complex at one point for the squared off, honeycomb like interior, the sections that remain halfway decent.

The presence of scattered, long empty supply packaging ranging from stimpacks to tins of cram says that you aren't the first to be here though, and you split off with Cooper to scout out the place, leaving Lucy with Dogmeat.

You're just as quick with tongue and trigger as Cooper ㅡ Lucy has learned that the hard way over the last week or so. But there's still a softness to you that Lucy likes, gravitates towards ㅡ and figure that Cooper likes it too, for the way she spots him watching you sometimes, pretends not to notice when he looks up and glares at her.

"Clear," you report, pulling her from her thoughts as you toss her a bedroll and a spare blanket. Where you got them, she doesn't know. And the dark stains of what absolutely is most likely blood tells her she doesn't want to know.

What she does know is that she's allowed what constitutes as a room to herself ㅡ three walls and a roof that won't cave in are enough for her to take it without complaint. Dogmeat goes with her, and when she looks up, she knows why with the unspoken way you and Cooper split off for the same little room a couple broken spaces down from hers.

"Get some rest, Lucy," you tell her, offer a small smile that makes her beam as she settles down for the night, deciding that she is far, far better off not thinking about just how close you and Cooper actually are.

"Cute kid," you remark as you finally trail into the room after Cooper, earning an amused scoff.

"Fuckin' annoying is what she is," he grouses, and it's your turn to laugh as you shrug off your pack and kneel, digging for your own bedroll.

"Considering that's what you called me when we first metㅡ"

"No, I called you an annoying bitch."

"Potayto, potahto." You tug the bedroll free and roll it out, blinking as Cooper settles himself over it with a groan and then a sigh. "Excuse me."

He peers up at you. "What now?"

"This is my bed." You snip, jerking a thumb over your shoulder. "Up, Cooper."

"Nah." He folds his arms behind his head. "You like the vaultie so much, go cuddle up with her."

You stare. "Cooper Howard," you say, "if I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous of the kid." He's silent, and you raise an eyebrow. "Are you?"

"No." The words is sharp, and he lifts his head to eye you. "Don't need to be jealous when I know what's mine," he rasps, "now quit bitchin' and c'mere."

You don't know what it says that you do so without fuss, settling yourself to straddle his hips as he sits up, draping your arms over his shoulders.

"There," you snip, adjusting to flick at the rim of his hat. "Better?"

He watches you with eyes as dark as an oil spill, and you don't miss the flick to your mouth and back up. "Gettin' there."

You snort. "You know," you murmur, tone dropping lower, "if you wanted to kiss me, all you gotta do is ask."

He smirks, the flash of his teeth. "Where's the fun in that, sugar? I like the chase. Besides," he lowers his tone, leans in further, "you're the one bitchin' when we can share this sad excuse for a bed. And the way I see it, you're gettin' the better deal anyways."

You roll your eyes, act like you're annoyed ㅡ but the way you don't tell him to shove it or get off of him speaks volumes enough.

Poetically, it starts raining just as you kiss him. The fingertip drum of it on the roof, sour-sweet smell of it that still reaches you because this isn't a real bedroom, just some shitty excuse for it. Doesn't matter, because this is far better than the kisses you've stolen over the last few days when you're absolutely certain Lucy isn't watching either of you.

Cooper seems to think so too for the way he deepens the kiss, cups your face as he nips at your lower lip and licks into your mouth when they part.

He squeezes at your hips, snakes his fingers back under your shirt, pinches and tugs and maps until you're squirming in his lap as he shoves your shirt off completely. He pulls, coaxes you into an arch that lets him mouth at your ribs, nip and sow sparks of pleasure in your veins as he leaves little patches of bruised pink skin in his wake.

He likes marking you, he realizes, the subtle claim without him having to say it. Mine.

He welcomes the grind of your hips against his, your body soft in all the ways that his isn't, filling in the cracks and rounding out all his sharp edges until he can't think of anything but getting his hands on you properly.

The pop of the button on your jeans is easy, the slip of his hand deliberate ㅡ you're louder this time, covered by the storm above as you whine and moan and buck into his hand and the sinful, clever work of his fingers.

And then just as you're about to crest that wave of pleasure, he stops. Smirks at the way you glare, taps your nose with his other hand. "You know you don't get nothin' for free around here, sugar."

He's teasing though, pushes you back to work his belt open, pants down ㅡ then dragging you back over him. Groans, tips his head back at the teasing glide of you before he's adjusting to line himself up and guiding you down.

The gasp he gets is music to his ears, nearly lost to the gutteral, hissed noise he makes himself at the tight, warm squeeze of you around his length. His eyes roll, and he bucks his hips up.

"C'mon sweet thing," he rasps, "don't make me do all the work. Ride for me."

The rhythm is stilted for the way he grips your hips anyways, reluctant to let you pull off of him too much ㅡ but it still feels good. Your breath matches the staccato movement, hands splayed on his chest for balance and head thrown back, looking for all the world like some sort of dedication to a long gone diety that he'd gladly worship to the end.

And he does still, reverence to the way he touches, kisses, bites ㅡ throbbing vitality in your veins calling to him, sweet siren song wrapped in those plush lips of yours. Soft skin squeezed under his fingers, forgiving for all the ways he can't be gentle, desperate as he is.

It's the throttled clamp of your warmth that says you're coming undone, gooey and wet and warm in all the right ways that has him clutching at you, cursing as his hips jerk and he fills you, mouthing at your pulse point as he does.

Heavy breathing sets the undertone of the roll of thunder outside crumbling walls, rapid beat of two hearts, and there's something dangerously soft, romantic in the way he lets you melt into him.

You drape over him, whisper soft kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his mouth until he kisses you back, slowly, selfishly, dangerously sweet.

"You," he tells you, "are absolutely no good for me." He slings an arm over your waist, softens the bite until it's nonexistent.

After all, what's one more vice?

ㅡ

In the morning, the four of you leave ㅡ there's a lot of ground to cover, after all. Lucy walks beside you, Dogmeat and Cooper just a few feet ahead.

"So," she begins conversationally, "what're those marks on your neck from?"

To your credit, you neither flinch nor blush, busy yourself with fussing with something at your hip. "Mosquitos."

Lucy hums. "That's funny, didn't realize mosquitos got so big. Best be careful then, huh?"

[paperdice]

HIIII how are youuu?? Sooo I wanted Golden cheese angst bcz we love angst right? …right? EHEM!!! One shot Mom golden cheese x child reader, the scenery is like when she’s gonna turn off the virtual world, what would she say to her child to calm them down? THABK YOUUU

𝐦𝐨𝐦!𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

"Let's not make much more out of all this, it pains my heart enough."

You could only watch as everything unfolds before your tiny eyes, watching your dough glitch was so uncanny,, What was happening to you and the other cookies? You felt like a harsh waterfall of fears and anxiety was just poured on top of you. Your head was hurting, why was it hurting?

You looked around for golden cheese cookie but your mother was elsewhere with the outsiders, but you didn't know where. Panic was creeping up on your paranoid confused mind with its long claws scraping against hope itself.

"momma?? has anyone seen my ma?? the queen??" you pleaded at your cookies for help but the panic and confusion was also spreading to their minds too.

A small body like yours was easy to miss, and your throat was up against the tight lump of fear which made it difficult to speak any louder than an inside voice. This made you frustrated, puffy red cheeks with tears wanting to roll down on them to finish the saddening piece.

Everything was too much, you just wanted your momma.

Like any child would be under unexplained pressure, you sat and began to cry where you were. You never had to go through anything like this before, nothing was even close to this, you were always pampered and safe. never had you thought to be separated from your mother in such dire time, because she always told you she'll be by your side.

"oh there you are! my poor baby bird.. I'm so sorry..!"

Your mothers voice shined a bright light to the darkness that was holding you in its grasp. Quickly looking up and running towards your mother, arms reaching out for her protection away from the world. Hiccups raided you when attempting to speak but all that came out was babbles and loud whimpering.

"oh no, you.." the distraught in her voice was clear, kneeling down and hugging you like it was the last hug she'll give. Her wings cradled you with its soft feathers,. "wh-whuAH!- is haH-haa-peen-nningggg. .. mommaa pl-leaze.." crying to tell her not to leave you again.

The most painful thing shes ever heard. Her baby trying so hard to talk through their fright after being left alone for how long. Her heart being broken is an understatement, it was stabbed and swollen, trying to stay strong for what's next.

Forcefully shutting her eyes by the time her own tears began to stream down her face. But she can't let you see that, you've been through enough as you proved.

Wiping away her tears with her arm, still holding her child in the other. She needed to do this.

She needed to do this right before shutting down her kingdom, but her heart aches so violently against her.

This was the closest shes gotten to her baby after the kingdoms perished, she doesn't wanna lose you again, she doesn't want to let you go. Losing the real you was the most difficult so she doesn't care that you're virtual because you felt just as real.

She gently holds both your shoulders and looks into your now redden eyes.. "I know there's a lot to explain, but.. I think its better not to uh, dull on it too much. because everything is okay." she smiled and felt bittersweet to speak more when she saw your face gleam as bright as gold, with faith in her words. "My gem, I've noticed how your dough has been getting paler as of late. Have you been getting rest?"

Have I been getting enough rest lately? hmm.

"I don't know, I can't remember.. is it that bad momma?" Worries was heard within your voice, "Nothing serious, just concerned me a little since it doesn't look good on you... How about you get some rest." she felt her brow flinch at the end of the sentence, was this the right way?

"mhm! can we nap together again?" .. "of course we can, anything you want."

A genuine smile was now on her face remembering all the times you two would nap, everytime you wanted to sleep you always invited her to join her. Even at the most uncalled for moments, your obliviousness spoke volumes of your love for your mother.

"I promise to nap with you whenever your small heart desires, no matter how many times you ask I'd do anything to be with you again."

Be with me again? ma's talking funny

"But I'm right here! And your bed is waayyy over there! let's go rest!"

"Yes you're right that's quite the far flight huh? How does sleeping in my arms in the meantime sound? Just like your real freshly baked days"

You don't exactly remember those days of course but you know your mother loved it based on how many times she'd reminisce about the memories. You didn't want to leave her side so you nodded and began to get comfortable, giggling at how goofy you felt. You were too big for this you thought.

"everything will be okay, sleep tight my love, I will wake you up when our morning comes.." tears falling as she saw you close your eyes and smile, "I love you ma." you said nuzzling on her inner arm, not realizing that you were fading away.

"I love you more, so much more.."

hellooo!! I'm doing alright how about you? I hope well, I also hope you like the angst! I had to resharpen my angst writing skills since its been a minute sobsob, thank you for the request and you're welcome! come back again if you're thinking of rolling another <333

[tiny-minecraft-rabbit]

You should do 4 with Jimmy and grian.

"What were you thinking?" Jimmy asked, cupping his hands around Grian.

Grian hissed at him- Usually that would be accompanied with the little borrower flapping his wings, but one was hanging limply from his back.

Jimmy sighed, gently pulling Grian out from the vent he had gotten stuck in. "Dude, I really don't think that vent travel was your best plan."

"Vents are great modes of transportation!" Grian argued, despite the fact that Jimmy had never seen him travel through them before.

The borrower had been trapped, sliding down the walls while trying to push open the grate he could barely reach let alone lift up. He can't imagine how the other had even got into them in the first place, but he certainly wasn't able to get out without Jimmy's help. Even then, considering it's been a few days since he's even seen Grian, he doesn't want to know how long it took for him to even get to a place that Jimmy would find him.

"Just- Just how long has your wing been like that?"

The silence was probably the worst answer he could have gotten.

"You should have come to me- Grian, you know I would have helped you-"

"That's just it, Tim!" Grian snapped, his head looking ready to pop right off, "I'm a gosh darn borrower, I don't need your help. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself and I do not want some Bean handing out charity at every little inconvenience I have."

Jimmy sighed at that, gently bringing Grian to the kitchen counter. "I understand that. I know you don't want me to just give you handouts; but this isn't a handout. You're injured, you have been for a while, and instead of getting help you're letting your pride get in the way."

Grian remained stubborn, "I don't need your help."

"You do," Jimmy insisted, staring down the limp wing, "You don't know how to set it do you?"

More deafening silence. Jimmy could barely believe it. He's seen Grian injured before: small bumps and bruises, at most a twisted ankle that he had expertly wrapped. There was nothing around his wing, not even an attempt at a splint or bandage. Grian couldn't fix it and had just left it to fester.

To be completely honest, Jimmy didn't know how to fix it either.

"I'm calling my friend Pearl. She's a vet, she'll know how to set your wing."

Grian laughed at that. It was an ugly, disdainful laugh. "Yeah. No. Not happening. You want to help that badly you can get me a popsicle stick and gauze. We'll wrap it, hope for the best; but I am not getting another Bean involved. You're more than enough."

"Grian, please, you might not be able to fly again."

"I'm grown okay with that."

A lump formed in Jimmy's throat. There was no way. Flying was everything to Grian. Jimmy saw his face when he flew. Saw the pure joy. Grian may have been okay with losing that, Jimmy was not.

"I'm calling Pearl," he said again, picking up his phone.

"Then I'm leaving," Grian snapped right back, "You can't make me see a vet of all things. I'm not your pet."

Jimmy glanced between Grian and the hole he knew was poked into his kitchen wall. He reached over him, his arm casting a light shadow over Grian, slid the toaster in front of it.

All the rage left Grian in an instant. "Wait, Tim- You're not- You're not actually serious-"

"This is- This is for your own good," Jimmy stuttered out, almost gagging on the words as he pressed the call button. He pulled out a big tupperware box and laid it was a towel.

"Don't. Jimmy, don't do this," Grian pleaded, backing away from him.

His hands shook as he once again scooped up Grian. He had to be firmer, since the borrower was trying to slip out, and far more careful not to touch his broken wing when Grian was struggling.

Pearl picked up the phone, "Hey Jimmy! What's up?"

"P-Pearl! Hey- Hey. I have a- a bird I found, wing is pretty beat up. Can you come over? Please?"

Grian bit into his hand, and it took all of his will not to flinch as he set the borrower in the tub. He was crying. They were both crying.

It would be fine. It was just Pearl and Grian would fly again. Grian could hate him forever, but he would fly.

[charismabee]

I like STP swap aus in theory but I find how I've seen people do them a little strange (not bad tho they're still cool n stuff and I like them very much)

Like they're just... making the princess bird shaped without actually examining what swapping the Shifting Mound and Long Quiet's role in the narrative would mean. (Not meant to be negative)

Let's take the Narrator for example. In Slay the Princess he wants to kill the Princess because he wants to stop death forever. But the Long Quiet isn't death, he's stillness, lack of change. This completely changes the Narrator's core motivation. It can work though. Maybe he's in a world that has stagnated, no change, no innovation. It feels like rot, so he decided he had to find a way to be rid of it. Or maybe some other explanation. This would change his core world view, what he might consider a good end, how he acts a bit, lots of things.

Speaking of the good end, that's definitely not going to be an eternity of stagnant bliss, we literally just killed the personanification of stagnation. You could think around that too. Remember I the stranger route when everything was happening at once and it was the same as nothing happening? Maybe that happens. Without stillness the Princess is met with a barrage of constant change and stimulation, everything happening at once. The Princess could realise it is Nothing as much as it is Everything and that gets her out of it.

The Long quiet would be interesting too, because he doesn't change, it isn't in his nature to. Instead, he fractures. Perhaps instead of finding his multitudes you are shattering him. Breaking off parts of him so he can see them from the outside and know them. Once enough pieces of him have been broken off he will shatter completely and finally be able to see all of him, would talons pick up his broken pieces, would wings made of textured nothingness wrap around them and embrace them tightly? Would he reside on a hill of squirming hands or bodies, lost in the centre of the shifting mound?

Perhaps without a need for agency, or someone to make a decision the Voices would just exist as their own thing. First one that claims to be a Hero, who claims to have agency in their story (a part of reflected in her, the Long Quiet does not need to shatter to be able to see him), quickly joined by a Paranoid and terrified victim, an Opportunist Scammer, a Stubborn opponent. Different, but not changed. Not the one person molded into another.

Even the construct itself would be changed by who it is created to kill. Perhaps when the Princess first arrives on the path in the woods it is autumn, a sign of the seasons changing, there is life and death and nature and cycles, but on that 3rd Chapter, it is summer. The leaves are green and waxy, everything is preserved in a completely silent stillness. Maybe there is a horror in that no matter how you get there those silent woods are always the same, unchanging.

Unlike the Long Quiet, the Shifting Mound does change. She is naturally malleable. She has no need for voices because whatever action you take becomes what she would have always done. Perhaps her body changes, giving her new advantages, the body of a vicious Beast stalks towards the cabin, hunger tinting your choices through a cabin twisted to suit her needs. A goddess glides towards her temple, willing it to be large enough to fit her. A dainty Princess hurries to find her Prince charming in a fairytale cabin. The land twists under her will, whether she realises that or not, only giving resistance when too close to the 'monster' kept down there. She is change, it is only natural she causes it.

Even stuff like how to get rid of him would change, because can you actually kill the absence of something? The natural state of things before they shift? The shifting mound is motion and for everything to be in motion all the time means nothing can ever really happen at all. There is no fulfilment in anything you do if your opinion on what to do changes every moment you exist. Perhaps to truly 'kill' him she needs to make him smaller, change what cannot be changed to make the stillness that will be broken, the things to be changed. Perhaps he will break them out of there and thank her. Perhaps without a way to know himself he slowly fades into a nothingness, trapped in an eternity of stagnation that change herself refused to save him from.

It is still a love story, he is naturally inclined to help her, she will always love him, but things have changed.

Anyway this is just a dumb little ramble because I was thinking and it's nearly 3am so this is probably nonsense anyway. I do really like swap ideas they're interesting and stuff <3

[scekrex]

Adam Masterlist

Consider chasing dick instead of pussy {SFW}

Fuck him, flip him, bend him backwards, baby, put your back into it {NSFW}

Bitches want me 'cuz they know that I can rock {NSFW}

Heavenly {NSFW}

Till death do us part, but we're already past that phase {SFW}

Heaven's gates won't open up for us again {SFW}

What it takes to be a man {SFW}

Going viral {SFW, crack fic}

Hidden in the sheets {SFW}

Lost and Found {SFW}

Any way you want me, baby, that's the way you got me {NSFW}

Night Terrors {SFW}

I'm liking it better with you {SFW, crack fic}

Drunk 'n' Nasty {SFW, crack fic}

Constant Headache {SFW}

Baby we could be Bonnie & Clyde {SFW}

Do you even {SFW, crack fic}

For you I'd bleed myself dry {SFW}

Pretty baby with the sun in his eyes {SFW}

Figure you out {SFW}

Cuffed Up {SFW}

Got Me Obsessed {NSFW}

Forbidden fruits cause damage {SFW}

Born to Lose {SFW}

Chaotically Chaotic {SFW}

Let me live/Let me die {SFW}

Lonely Eyes {SFW}

Flying and Falling are pretty close to each other {SFW, crack fic}

I'll shelter and adore you more than anything {SFW}

Stick It To The (Wo)Man {SFW}

With broken wings we're fallin' {SFW}

The Plan (Fuck Parents) {SFW}

Pretty Boy Swag {SFW}

Goodbyes that feel like you're still in my city {SFW}

In Desire We Trust {NSFW}

People Pleasing doesn't rock {SFW}

And I dream to be your fantasy {SFW}

Chains on my lips just add flames to the fire {SFW}

Love me like you mean it, a little bit harder now {NSFW}

Never wanna stop 'cause your taste is so divine {NSFW}

Let the sun set on your life and I'll make, oh I'll make you mine {SFW}

When you meet my eyes, we both know that you're mine {SFW}

But I still want more, don't know what I'm after {NSFW}

I hate everyone, it's so easy, I wouldn't do it if I didn't really care {NSFW}

It's 'cause of these things {SFW}

He can fix it {SFW}

If God's watching then we're both sinners {SFW}

Love at first sight, I still believe {SFW}

Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone {SFW}

I bring the ribs, I bring the drama {SFW}

Everything I love, I guess it makes me damned {NSFW}

Smother me with loving hands {SFW}

We're eating good tonight, darlin' {NSFW}

Reach out and touch faith {NSFW}

Birthday boy {SFW}

All the violence makes a statement {SFW}

If I'm so wonderful then why am I so misunderstood {SFW}

This hurts me like Heaven {NSFW}

Is this the life, the one from your dreams? {NSFW}

I got myself a fuckin' life dressed up in evening wear {SFW}

Little soldier {SFW}

About bragging and loving {SFW}

The deeper you go, the better you feel {NSFW}

Never wanted to dance with nobody, but you {SFW}

I'm a jester and I'm yours, call me your fool {SFW}

Burning, I feel it too {SFW}

There's a darkness at the heart of my love, that runs cold, runs deep {SFW}

I promise you that I'll be good to you if you promise that you'll try to love me too {SFW}

Make me cum {NSFW}

You're dead to me, stop saying my name like beetlejuice {SFW}

Spin round quick rock yo body {NSFW}

I got all twisted up, you helped straighten me out {SFW}

Suck it up, big boy {NSFW}

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be {SFW}

Take me down, a little bit harder now {NSFW}

I'm not likely to kick a head in, but I'll curb stomp a bitch if she objects at our wedding {SFW}

Kill anyone for you {SFW}

Out for Blood {SFW}

Lover come hold me {SFW}

I'll meet you in hell {SFW}

I don't want you to hate me, no, I want you to wanna hate me {SFW}

I wave goodbye to the end of beginning {SFW}

Let's make a mess and cross the line, you and me a masterpiece {NSFW}

Call me daddy {SFW}

I love it - you son of a bitch {SFW}

The king's demand of golden birds {SFW}

Rocking your world {NSFW}

I'm gonna fuck you up without further ado {SFW}

Can't take back all the things we said {SFW}

Slow Dance with You {SFW}

Gold is a divine color, luckily you're the most divine person to exist {SFW}

You're always so lovely {SFW}

All I want is all you've got {SFW}

'Cause a sinner needs a saint to tell him what's at the end {SFW}

Drunken Truths {SFW}

A bloody nose and two bleeding hearts {SFW}

'Cause no one saw me the way you did and no one's seen me that way since {SFW}

And I know the weight of the world can't crush my chest {SFW}

I could treat you so much better I've known you forever figured you out {SFW}

Masterlist 2

[ptn-imagines]

Hello and good day! :^D

Can I request any sinner of your liking with sinner!reader who has wings like it's part of them? Like they can fly, they only allow few trusted people to touch their sensitive wings, and they hate the rain because it makes their wings heavy. It's okay if you dont do this request

Hey the winged sinner anon here, about the request I gave can you make its romantically ? I'm fine if you turn it platonic

So as I've mentioned I've been absolutely down-bad for Zoya lately. So I wrote for Zoya. Hope you enjoyed and that I included enough wing stuff!

Zoya in a romantic relationship with a winged Sinner!Reader

There’s this common misconception that you were brought into the Legion for your unique Sinner power. It’s about as far from true as one can possibly get.

The reality of the situation is that you joined the Legion for about the same reason as anyone else does: you had a vision for Syndicate’s future, and you weren’t afraid to break some skulls for it.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that it gave you protection from the vultures that were Syndicate’s wicked, morally corrupt gangs. You were a tool to them, a prize to be won, by virtue of your wings. The Legion offered you a safe haven from all of that.

The Commander of the Legion, Zoya, was hardly going to turn away a willing and eager recruit, but it didn't hurt that the two of you got along easily. You found Zoya’s softness under her rock hard exterior (and abs) pretty quickly, and the life experiences you had as a visibly obvious Sinner in Syndicate meant that when plans needed to be made, you were often invited to the war table right alongside her and Earl.

Perhaps it was only natural that you two would eventually fall in love with each other. Zoya’s way of asking you out wasn’t exactly elegant, considering how she basically kabedon’d you while you were walking past her and asked if you wanted to go out with her, but it was so uniquely Zoya that you just found it endearing.

At the start of your relationship, despite Zoya’s curiosity about your wings, you were very guarded and didn't allow her to touch them. They were, after all, one of if not the most vulnerable and sensitive parts of your body. Zoya respected this boundary, and while you did occasionally catch her lingering glances on your wings, it never went past that. There was no harm in your girlfriend looking, you figured.

As time went on and trust deepened in the relationship, you did eventually allow Zoya to pet your wings. The first time you allowed her to touch the fluffy feathers, her expression turned into one of such childlike wonder that you couldn't help but laugh.

It took less than a month for Zoya to know every single spot of your wings. Where you didn't want them to be touched, the parts that made your body twitch involuntarily, the spots that melted you into goop… among other things.

This understanding would soon deepen into helping take care of your wings. Grooming and preening, first of all, helping you straighten out your wings, as you taught her how to identify and remove broken feathers. You were always capable of doing this on your own, but there was no denying that it was much, much easier with someone who could actually reach behind your back properly to help out.

You weren't a bird, but you definitely were starting to understand why preening was a bonding thing between mates. Plus Zoya kept calling you nicknames like “my little bird” that, while you laughed and protested that you weren't, you never quite stopped. It was nice.

Zoya's… not quite expertise, but certainly experience in grooming your wings meant that whenever you'd get soaked by an unexpected downpour or similar watery incident, she was the go-to to help towel off your waterlogged feathers. Sitting in her lap having your wings tended to by her surprisingly gentle hands was always nice, and she often threw in a massage for other parts of your body afterwards, and as a hardened warrior, Zoya knew massages. You were almost always turned into a melted puddle of goop by the time she was done. And you liked it that way.

At some point, you started wearing Zoya's jacket more often than she did. It wasn't that you'd stolen it, it was just that it had been a rainy season and every single time the rain began to pour down, Zoya had thrown her jacket over you without a single thought. It was oversized on you, but that was perfect, because it meant that it was able to provide protective cover for your wings. A little raincoat for them.

It wasn't just wing maintenance that Zoya did for you, though. You could fly with your wings, of course, but you'd never thought to do anything complicated until one day, quite out of nowhere, Zoya asked you if you ever did aerial tricks.

You had said no at the time, though a bit stunned by her question. The way she shook her head and muttered “damn” under her breath was more than enough motivation to learn how to perform soaring tricks, starting with swooping dives and loop-de-loops and advancing to more advanced displays. The proud and excited grin on Zoya's face when you performed your first aerial show for her was absolutely worth all the effort.

Of course, your favorite thing was to snuggle up to Zoya and wrap your wings around her in an odd sort of cocoon. Though she'd never admit it, Zoya was absolutely a teddy bear of a partner who loved cuddling – and by swaddling her in your wings, you had a way to envelope her in warmth just as she did to you.