#they get each other they hate each other they would kill each other they would kill For each other

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug Like Angel

pt4

See you soon

hey guys warning this chapter literally has none of the batfam here its highlighting reader being insterted into itsv-atsv

It has been a year since you had gotten bitten.

You were now 14

Since then you've lost a couple of people.

Your Gwen Stacy, who was instead named [REDACTED], was killed while you were trying to stop the green goblin.

You lost an officer you were close to. He died while protecting a kid.

You lost someone you considered an uncle.

You were tired.

Since then you've been training yourself, secretly fighting crime to not be seen by your family, and getting stronger in general.

Every day was sortve the same. Wake up, get ready, go to school, come home, eat, fight crime, sleep, repeat.

It all changed one day.

You had just gotten back from patrol.

You stopped 3 muggings and saved a cat from a tree.It was a slow day, thankfully.

You were doing your homework peacefully.

You were almost done with your algebra homework when suddenly a portal popped up right next to you.

You couldn't process anything as the portal sucked you up and took you in.

The next thing you knew, you were stuck in an alternate universe with other versions of you.

And you had to get home soon ASAP no rocky if you didn't wanna die.

And that be all fine and dandy.

Except you didn't wanna get attached to anyone.

You didn't want them to exclude you and you to follow them around like a lost puppy like you did with your family.

And guess what?

You did get attached.

Peni, a small kid who was in a tiny robot fighting, was like a little sister to you.

Peter B. Parker, ham, and Noir were all like uncles to you.

gwen and Miles were your cool older siblings.

You loved them.

And you hated that.

Because you knew deep down, you wouldn't get to see each other again.

You all were destined to be apart, due to your separate universes.

You got attached.

You were attached to noir and how his coat smelled like cigarettes and milkshakes.

You were attached to Ham and how he always cracked jokes when things got tense and awkward.

You were attached to peter b and how he talked about his past experiences.

You got attached to Peni and how she would use stickers everywhere.

You got attached to Miles and how stupidly awkward he was with Gwen.

You got attached to Gwen and how she gave you the advice you always needed.

Fuck.

You didn't wanna go back to the manor.

This is the happiest you've been in a while.

This is home.

You can go on patrol here without worrying that your family might see you.

You are constantly smiling and laughing with the people here.

You're constantly wishing you could stay here forever.

Other than the constantly painful glitching, you're so happy and excited.

You never wanna leave.

You were so proud of Miles and how he got everyone home.

You cried as soon as you landed back in your room.

You sobbed into your pillow. You're gonna miss them.

No one even noticed you were gone for a week.

No one noticed how bruised up you were.

No one noticed how sad you looked.

It's been 5 months since then.

You got invited to join the Spider Society.

Miguel saw you on patrol trying to fight an anomaly and failing miserably due to you never fully getting actual training.

You were trying! It's just that you didn't want your family to see you so its sort of hard to control a whole glitching green goblin...

Miguel took you into the spider society.

You saw peter b in Miguel's office and immediately tackled him into a hug and cried a little.

You learned that due to being a mix of two multiverses (Marvel and DC) your canon events were a tiny bit messed up.

Miguel explained everything, but everything was going through one ear and out the other.

You wondered if the others were here too.

You wondered if they missed you like you missed them.

Miguel could see how spaced out you were.

"What's wrong, Mija?"

"Are the others here? Like Gwen, Miles, ham, noir, and Peni? I know Peter's here, I saw him just now, but what about the others?"

He went on to explain how they hadn't been invited yet.

Later on, you begged him to at least invite Peni.

He couldn't resist your puppy dog eyes, so he said yes.

Since being introduced into society, you've slowly started getting used to just doing everything here.

You would go into Miguel's office for hours and hours just to be around him.

He was like the father you always wanted!

He would listen to you complain about your family, and he would always lend a shoulder to cry on.

On multiple occasions, he had to carry you back to your bed in your universe because you'd fall asleep in his office on the floor.

You both have gotten close.

Miguel was your emergency contact, always there when you needed him. Despite his intimidating appearance to others, he was never scary to you.

At one point you saw Gwen again, finally!

You were so happy! one step closer to getting everyone together again!

Slowly, you saw everyone again.

..Everyone except Miles.

You didn't understand, why not Miles?

You asked Miguel and he went on a tangent that did not make sense and went through one ear and out the other.

You did get to meet Pavitr and Hobie.

Pavitr was your twin! You guys had similar personalities and had twin telepathy.

You both were around the same age and everything!

Hobie is SO COOL!

He taught you how to play your guitar! You were finally getting a hang of it!

He was like the older brother you never had!

You wanted to be like him so bad!

When he and Gwen jokingly said they wanted to start a band, you wanted to!

A couple of months later, you saw miles again!

It wasn't in the best circumstances.

You had just gotten back from school. You were in your room scrolling on your phone, when suddenly your spidey senses tingled.

You saw Gwen hop out of a portal in the middle of your room.

"Hey! I kinda sort of need your help."

"what's going on?" you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.

Gwen went on to explain everything you missed.

From Gwen seeing miles to Miles tagging along onto Mamhatten in pavers universe, and then to Miguel's body slamming him into a train and calling everyone to chase him.

Jeez, you don't go to the society for one day and everything goes to shit.

You thought about it for a second, no one would notice you not being here for a couple of days, right?

"..alright, I've saved the multiverse once, I can do it again."

You sat up on your bed and grabbed your suit.

You grabbed Gwen's arm as she took you to a whole other universe.

After a lot of fighting, you all managed to save Miles's dad.

Seeing their family be happy together made you tear up in happiness.

They deserved to be happy.

After a lot of apologies from all parties, everything was still pretty awkward.

You've probably apologized to Miles over a million times despite him insisting it wasn't your fault.

Sure, you didn't help the others chase him, but you still didn't tell him about society.

Hell, you should've been there to defend him.

You should yelled at Miguel from the beginning over him not letting Miles in his exclusive clubhouse.

Instead, you were scared Miguel was gonna bring you back to the manor and disown you, even if you knew he would never do that to you.

You should've stood by miles from the start.

It's never too late to make up for everything.

oml this was kinda boring but i needed filler lol

honestly i might write a oneshot of all the spiderkids together

taglist (please tell me if i forgot to tag you!):

@bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla

[marvelstars]

I agree.

James didn´t need to become a bully, he could have been like Harry or Ron or bassically any other kid his age, mind his bussines and have fun without hurting people, yet he didn´t and he focused on Severus because he didn´t like the fact the girl he wanted for himself was Severu´s friend. James may have not been a darkarts practicant but it´s hard to ignore one of the reasons he bullied Severus was the fact he tought he was below James and Sirius and so didn´t deserve to have Lily as a friend.

James was a good friend of Sirius, he gave him a home and supported Remus but he and Sirius still used Remus to get their fun putting other people in danger letting him get loose during full moon and when push came to shove Sirius and James doubted Remus precisely for his lycantropy and keep the truth of the secret keeper from him.

Them both were lousy friends of Peter Pettigrew calling him names or thinking he was pathetic and expected his co-dependence with them would lead him to lose his life as SK having Voldemort persecuting him instead of Sirius, they were wrong, they tought real life was like Hogwarts and found out Voldemort wasn´t quite as easy to fool as their teachers or as easy to fight like beating other kids at school. That was a fatal mistake. he keep bullying him even after he and Lily became a couple and this didn´t stop until graduation. That´s the story of canon James with Severus and all the fics in the world can´t change those facts.

I also believe they exaggerate Severus "torture of Harry Potter" yes he was biased agaisnt him and usually listened to his Slytherin students like Draco over Harry and Ron or Hermione when they fought each other but the most Severus ever did to Harry as his teacher was to punish him with detention and usually Harry gave him reasons for this, be it because he stole ingredients from his classroom, was out after hours or put himself in danger when the whole school wanted to protect him from Sirious when they believed he wanted to kill Harry and

If Severus was THAT abusive to Harry as his teacher then Minerva would not have supported Severu´s detentions and even add she would have been more strict than him in one occasion and we saw this, say whatever you want about Snape but he never send Harry, Ron and Hermione to the darkforest as part of their detention, his personality and words may be horrible sometimes but Snape´s main thing/motivation after repenting for becoming a death eater was the fact he keep students safe and he took this duties seriously, yes including Harry.

Harry himself would not have gone out of his way to keep Sirius and Severus from fighting each other if his relationship with Snape was so bad and he only started to truly hate Snape because he blamed him for Sirius and later his parents death.

We have been over this for many years and fandom seems to repeat non-stop the takes they believe will win them arguments but sometimes we just need to read the books again before making more arguements imo.

I cannot believe people let Snape get the high ground.

How do people casually overlook the fact that Snape spent six entire years of his life telling a kid—who never even got the chance to know his father—that said father was an arrogant douchebag? Like, how do people think that behavior is normal?

Snape, a grown man, spent years trying to convince a grieving, orphaned child that his dead father—who literally died protecting his family—was a terrible person. No compassion for a man who gave his life for his wife and son. No sympathy for a kid who grew up abused, unloved, and completely alone, only learning about his parents through stories told by others.

Instead, Snape chose to rehash his teenage rivalry with James Potter by bullying his son. Imagine being so petty that you can’t move past your high school grudges, even when the other person has been dead for over a decade.

Even the coldest, most detached person would muster some respect for a man who died fighting for good. But Snape? No. He chose to sit on his high horse—ignoring the fact that he was once a Death Eater who only changed sides when his own personal interests were threatened—and still had the audacity to act morally superior to James.

James Potter died a hero. Snape, on the other hand, spent his life tormenting the child of the woman he claimed to love—while refusing to let go of a teenage rivalry and weaponizing it against a traumatized, grieving boy.

I cannot get over how utterly selfish and cruel that is. Snape had no empathy for the dead and no sympathy for the living. And people still try to defend him? Seriously?

[brawberryz]

I don't want to die

Batfam × negleted Asuka langley!Reader

《Platonic》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error/ This story has no relation to my Evangelion AU

You hate this

You hate everything, nothing is ever fair to you

You always tried your best being batgirl but still you couldn't get anyone to tell you how proud they were of you

You were good at fighting and you solved cases in hours but still it seemed like you didn't exist for your family

Your presence was a shadow between the great walls of the mansion, you didn't understand why none of your efforts to get noticed worked

But it's okay, you don't need anyone

You didn't need his approval, you're fine alone because you know very well that no one will protect you or take care of you

But at the same time you didn't want to be alone, you wanted to experience that love that Bruce gave to his other children and which you never felt

Bruce

How you hated that name, he was never a father to you and he never will be, he pretended to be the perfect and exemplary father but deep down he was as broken and rotten as you

You hated him so much, you hated your father and your mother, You hated your brothers and you hated men

Nobody understands you and comprehends you, they pretend to like you but you know that the fake

Richard, claimed to be the eldest brother and that he cared about his brothers but you knew it was a farce, he was as hypocritical and fake as the whole family

He only showed affection to the people who suited him and if you were not useful he just ignored you

You hate him so much, his mere presence makes you nauseous and disgusted

Jason, he was an idiot just like the whole family, since he had revived he was a person full of anger and revenge

In a way you understood him a little, but then you hated him

I believed that just because his life had been miserable it didn't mean that he should make life miserable for others, sometimes you wished that the joker would beat him to death with that crowbar again

Tim, you didn't hate him as much as the others but you still despised him

Since you and he arrived at the mansion You had some kind of rivalry since you two were equally intelligent and you were very competitive children

I never wanted to admit that I was wrong and at some point you were like that too, but having Bruce always put you on his side made your blood boil

Because Bruce seemed so proud of him but with you he treated you as if you were some kind of mistake

Damian, he was the second person you hated the most every time you two saw each other it seemed like you wanted to kill each other

You still remember the first time he arrived at the mansion you weren't so excited you thought he would be another idiot you would have to deal with

You were very surprised when you saw how a katana was heading towards your head, by instinct you dodged it your years as batgirl had favored you for the first time

You didn't remember that fight well, you only knew that if your father and your brothers didn't interrupt that fight you and Damian were going to end up killing each other

But there was something that stayed in your head, when they separated you Damian you and him were equally hurt by their big fight but everyone decided to pay attention to him

Everyone was so worried about him and they had only met him a few hours ago, but you

You had lived in this mansion for more than a decade and they didn't even bother to check on you

The only one who seemed worried was Alfred who carefully tended to your wounds

You could still remember the look of disappointment and anger that your father gave you after that fight

You wanted to cry at that moment and yell at him but you couldn't, you couldn't show yourself weak

It was a simple nonsense that shouldn't affect you, you were never going to show yourself vulnerable or cry again

But deep down, you would have liked to be able to cry

Barbara, you didn't hate her but you didn't like her either, you just tolerated her since at some point she was quite useful in your missions

But you weren't going to lie that at some point you felt jealous of them when she was Batgirl, you saw how Bruce treated her with so much love as if she were a daughter

How he looked at her with pride and cared for her, and you were there looking at her with hatred without knowing why she deserved that love and you didn't

It wasn't fair, she hadn't even tried hard to get Bruce to respect her and you who spent your whole life training and becoming one of the strongest and most skilled members of the batfam he didn't even turn to look at you

Cass, you tolerated her to a certain point your opinion of her was neutral

Sometimes you used to train together but you never talked, you only got together to train or on missions that Bruce asked her to accompany you

Steph, you met her when she was Robin, you got along well at the beginning but when she stopped being Robin you two separated and stopped talking for a while

When she came back she looked so different as if something had changed, you had heard that she went through a lot of things when she left like getting pregnant or something

You just kept quiet and didn't ask her so as not to make her uncomfortable

Your life wasn't the best but you learned to live like that, you got used to this life full of disappointment

Maybe you should just accept this life and wait to die, no one will remember you and the only thing people will remember will be batman's invisible daughter

You will remain as one of Bruce's many mistakes, a mistake he could never fix

_

It was another mission, it was easy you just had to deactivate some bombs that the scarecrow had placed in some buildings, you had done it many times it shouldn't be difficult

And as you sensed it was very easy, there was only one bomb left that was located in a warehouse

You were confident without paying attention to the warning of your father and oracle

You quickly went to the place where the bomb was located, you had deactivated many bombs this one should not be so difficult

But you trusted too much

Oh no

It was a trap, a fucking one

Before you could react the bomb ended up throwing the toxic fear all over the place and you didn't even have time to react

"(NAME)!"

Bruce shouted trying to get you out of there but it was too late

He could see how your body fell to the ground trembling while tears came out of your eyes

He could hear how you screamed in fear and begged for it to stop

"NO! NO PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME REMEMBER, ANYTHING BUT THAT!"

You said between screams while you grabbed your head and curled up further into yourself

Bruce was surprised to see you in that state, he had never seen you so vulnerable and scared

He knew it was the fear gas's fault but he was still surprised, not even when you were little and had come to the mansion you never showed yourself scared or vulnerable

Since you were little you always had that look full of hate and resentment

He quickly went to you to check your condition, he hugged you tightly to prevent you from hurting yourself because of your state

"(Name)!, please react!"

He said trying to make you see reason but all you did was scream in pain and agony

Whatever you were hallucinating was much worse than anything

_

Your head was full of memories of your childhood and that incident

You were supposed to forget it forever but apparently they decided to come back

...

You didn't remember your mother's face, it was a blur between your memories you only remember her tired voice

When you were little you didn't understand why she always seemed so depressed and tired, you were too young to understand the world around you

She was hardly ever home and if she was she was always lying on the couch drinking cheap alcohol

You always asked her what was wrong but she always answered "it's adult things, honey"

In those moments your little self wished you could be an adult and understand everything, to be able to help your mom with whatever she was suffering

But you couldn't, you were a little girl unaware of the world and the problems that surrounded her

You wished your mother had been more present in your life

You knew she had to work for hours and then come back tired, but still...

You still wanted her love

You saw how the other kids at school came to pick them up, how they hugged their parents happily

Hugs

Have you always wanted to know what it would feel like to have someone hug you, would it feel as warm and comfortable as many say?

You just wanted to experience that, deep down you dreamed that someone would hug you in such a quality and loving way

Then that day came, you could still remember it

You had come home from school as usual, everything seemed normal

Too normal

"Mom, I'm home!"

Screaming at you as you took off your shoes and left your backpack on the table

You found it strange that she didn't answer since she was supposed to stay home today

You walked down the small hallway of the apartment until you reached your mother's door

It was half open and you thought he was asleep, you opened it excitedly but all that joy and excitement disappeared as soon as you saw that horrible scene

"M-mom..."

You said in shock looking at her hanging body, small tears came out of your eyes as you looked at that scene completely paralyzed

You quickly reacted and went to her crying, praying to any god that existed that this wasn't real

But it was real, your mother's skin was as cold as the snow falling outside the apartment

After that it seemed that your memory decided to erase all traces of something you remembered

To a certain extent you could still feel your mother's cold skin between your hands

When you were little you didn't understand why Your mother had done that, but now

Now you understood everything...

_

You woke up in your bed, you heard the soft knock on your door

It was Alfred asking you to go have breakfast

"I'm not hungry Alfred, just leave me alone please..."

You said in a tired tone, it was the same tone your mother had

You curled up further in your bed, the old butler said something you weren't able to hear but you didn't care either

Nothing mattered anymore

So the days went by, you weren't even able to get out of your bed or eat

Even the batfam was surprised not to see you as usual to patrol

Richard decided to check on you and almost fainted when he saw your condition, your room was a mess, full of dirty clothes and other things

It was almost impossible to walk around there, your floor was full of things like books, clothes and other things that he didn't want to know what it was

But the worst was your appearance, you smelled terribly bad and your hair was greasy

He quickly forced you to take a shower, he had to push you into the bathroom since you didn't even deign to answer or get up

After Richard told the rest of the family about your sorry state something inside them turned on, like a protective instinct towards his sister

Now they had to force you to do things as mundane as bathing or eating, since apparently you weren't even capable of doing it by yourself

Each member of the batfam tried to cheer you up in their own way

Jason took you with him to the library while he told you about the new book he was reading, he thought it might be interesting for you but all you did was give him a tired look

Tim made you sit next to him while he worked on his computer, sometimes he asked you if you wanted to help him in some case but you just refused

The old you would have accepted without hesitation but the old you was no longer there

Damian and Cass made you go with them to train with them but you refused, arguing that you were too tired or didn't feel like it

So they just made you sit there while you watched them train since Bruce asked everyone to keep an eye on you

Steph and Barbara tried to cheer you up by making you spend time with them, but nothing worked

You gave them the same empty and tired look you gave everyone

Bruce decided that the best thing was to take you out of school and take you with him to work, since according to him you were in a very delicate and vulnerable state

Besides he could educate you, you didn't need any teacher when you had him, it was much better since you spent all day by his side and he could control you better

Richard tried to get you to bake a cake with him but all you did was look at him tiredly before nodding at his idea

But he still tried to make you happy while you two cooked but nothing could make you feel something

You were like a doll without emotions, you had entered a state where you couldn't even tell what was real and what wasn't

Your body was there but your conscience wasn't

But don't worry, as long as you're next to them you don't have to worry about anything

I'm thinking of updating Goodbye World My soon, there are just a few things left to edit and then I'll upload it

Leaving that aside, I hope you enjoy this!

@strwberryglass

[willowsnook]

an experiment pt. 3

lando norris x reporter!reader

a/n: 😈

pt. 1, pt. 2

tags: @sarx164 @wildflowerrsszz, @jaematthews15, @opastries81 @armystay89 @hadesnumber1daughter @dying-inside-but-its-classy @chlmtfilms @freyathehuntress @ashley-k @charlesgirl16 @widow-cevans @cmleitora @rawr-123s-stuff @majapapaya4 @fullmugwolffish

-----------------------------------------------

Y/N: ABSOLUTELY NOT LN: non-refundable, sorry. See you tomorrow

You threw your phone across the room, furious. Hadn’t he done enough? You had your resignation letter typed out, for god’s sake. Begrudgingly, you moved across the room to find your phone, calling your best friend. 

“What’s up?” David asked.

“Lando Norris is coming to Austin to see me,” you said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Wait, why?” David questioned. You could hear his confusion over the phone. 

“I don’t know, he posted that thing on Insta and then texted me that he bought a flight,” you complained. 

David snorted, "He posted that thing and then immediately bought a flight? Sounds like someone's feeling guilty," David said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You groaned, flopping back onto your bed. "I don't care if he feels guilty. I don't want to see him."

"You sure about that?" David asked skeptically. "Because it seems like you two have some unresolved tension."

"The only tension we have is me wanting to strangle him," you muttered.

David laughed. "Right, because that's totally normal behavior between two people who hate each other."

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn't see you. "What am I supposed to do? He's just going to show up here."

"Well, you could always not be there when he arrives," David suggested. "Or you could hear him out. Maybe he genuinely wants to apologize.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” you complained to him and you heard him laugh in response. 

“I’m always on your side, but let’s just say that Carlos isn’t the only one betting on when you two will get together.”

Instead of answering you hung up, not interested in hearing what he had to say anymore. You groaned before pulling yourself off your bed to begin cleaning. Deep cleaning your apartment always cleared your head and it killed two birds with one stone considering that Lando was coming the next day. 

Lando didn’t answer any of your texts the rest of the night and you started to convince yourself that he wasn’t coming which had you relieved. That was shortlived when you heard someone knocking on your door the next day as you were eating lunch. 

“You’re kidding,” you said, shocked as you opened your door to see him standing there, exhaustion written all over your face.

“I don’t have the energy to fight with you right now,” he mumbled, pushing past you with his small suitcase. 

“I didn’t invite you to come,” you shot back, following him angrily. He set his stuff down near the kitchen island before turning back to you. 

“My guilt was eating me alive so I had to come,” he said plainy.

You rolled your eyes, “I would have saved you the trip if you just would have called.” 

He gave you a pointed look, you both knew you wouldn’t have answered. 

“Can I please take a nap before I read the apology speech I prepared?” He asked and you fought hard against the laugh threatening to escape. It didn’t go unnoticed by Lando who smiled triumphantly. 

“Fine,” you agreed, showing him to the guest room. “Why do you have your suitcase?” 

“I didn’t book a hotel,” he replied nonchalantly. 

“Then where are you going to stay?” He didn’t answer and you furrowed your eyebrows. “No. No way. Do you not remember that I don’t like people staying over?”

“I remember every single thing about that night. In detail,” he shot back and your face flamed red. “We won’t be in the same room so it should be fine by your rules.” 

You stormed out of the guest room and slammed the door. You paced back and forth in your living room, trying to process the fact that Lando Norris was currently napping in your guest room. This was not how you expected your day to go. After about an hour, you heard the door open and Lando emerged, looking slightly more rested but still jet-lagged.

"Feel better?" you asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of your voice.

He nodded, running a hand through his messy hair. "Look, can we talk?"

You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall. "Isn't that why you flew halfway across the world?”

"I had no idea what was happening y/n, you have to believe me,” he said honestly. “I got rid of social media mid season because of the amount of hate I was getting. I’m so sorry this happened.”

“The things that have been said about me Lando…” you trailed off, resolve cracking. “How could I want to keep doing this?” 

Lando's face fell as he saw the pain in your eyes. He took a tentative step towards you, his voice soft. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. What they've been saying, it's not okay. Not at all."

You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "It's not just what they're saying. It's... everything. The threats, the harassment. They found my personal information, Lando. I don't feel safe anymore."

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt evident on his face. “You’re too good for us to lose you. That article you wrote? It was brutal, but it was honest. And that's what makes you great at your job.”

You didn’t say anything but didn’t stop Lando as he stepped even closer to you, his hands coming to cup your face. 

“I need you there,” he admitted. “I need you to keep me on my toes, to keep me accountable. Don’t let them win.”

A tear escaped your eye and Lando brushed it away with his thumb, staring intensely at you. You laid your head against his chest, taking a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you again. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” you replied softly. Pulling away, you tried to collect yourself before turning back to him. “How long are you here for?”

“Couple of days,” he said sheepishly. 

“You know I’m not going to sleep with you again just because you’re here,” you said and he rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll try not to be offended that you thought that was what I wanted,” he replied. 

“Whatever,” you said, heading towards your room. 

“Pain in my ass,” you heard him mutter under his breath as you left. 

The next day was actually enjoyable, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. You and Lando got brunch before walking around the city, you showing him the touristy sights. 

As you walked along the river, you couldn't help but sneak glances at Lando. He seemed more relaxed here, away from the pressures of the F1 world. You had to admit, when he wasn't being an insufferable prat, he was actually quite charming.

"What?" Lando asked, catching you staring.

You quickly looked away. "Nothing. Just surprised you haven't complained about the heat yet."

He chuckled. "I'm not that delicate, you know. Besides, the company makes it bearable."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your small smile. "Careful, Norris. That almost sounded like a compliment."

"Don't let it go to your head," he teased back. “What are we doing tonight?” 

“Maybe just a movie back at the apartment,” you said. “Thanks to your apology speech, I actually will have to go back to work tomorrow.” 

He grinned at you. “Glad to hear that.”

“Yeah my first piece back will be ‘Why Oscar Piastri is my pick to win the 2025 championship.’”

You squealed as he moved into you, tickling into your sides. 

That night, you and Lando were curled up on opposite ends of your couch, watching a movie. You kept sneaking glances at him, noticing how relaxed he looked in your space. It was a far cry from the tense interactions you usually had at the track.

As the credits rolled, Lando turned to you with a soft smile. "This was nice. I'm glad I came."

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest you weren't quite ready to examine. "It was. Thank you for coming, Lando. I know I gave you a hard time, but... it means a lot that you cared enough to fly out here."

He reached over, gently squeezing your hand. "Of course I care, y/n. Despite our... complicated history, I've always respected you. And I hate that you were hurt because of me, even indirectly."

“I appreciate it,” you whispered. He stared at you a little longer, his eyes flickering down to your lips before he spoke again. 

“Sequel?” He asked and you smiled, nodding your head. 

As the next movie started, he didn’t move back to his spot, instead staying very close to you. As you felt yourself drifting off, you snuggled into his side, much to his amusement. The last thing you remember was him placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, gently rousing you from your slumber. As consciousness slowly crept in, you became aware of a warm presence beside you, a steady heartbeat beneath your ear. Your eyes fluttered open, and the events of the previous night came rushing back.

You were still on the couch, curled up against Lando's side, his arm draped protectively around you. Sometime during the night, he had pulled a blanket over both of you, cocooning you in warmth. The TV screen was black, the movie long since ended.

Panic seized your chest as the full weight of the situation hit you. You had spent the night with Lando. Not just in a physical sense, but in the most intimate way possible - wrapped in each other's arms, vulnerable in sleep. This was exactly what you had always feared, the reason you never let anyone stay over.

Slipping out of his arms, you tried to calm yourself down as you headed back into your room. Your mind was racing as you showered, your feelings for Lando bubbling to the surface even though you pushed them down. 

Lando was sitting up and scrolling through his phone when you came back into the living room. He looked up at you, face instantly scrunching as he saw you. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“Nothing, what time is your flight?” You asked, without any emotion. Lando moved off the couch towards you, grabbing your arm as you turned away from him. 

“Y/n, what’s wrong? Is this because of last night?” He asked and you flinched, giving him the answer he needed. 

“You need to go Lando, thank you for coming, but it’s time for you to go.” 

“Wow,” he said in disbelief. “I’ll go when you can look me in the eye and tell me that all you still feel for me is hatred.” 

“Lando please,” you said, begging. 

“Why are you pushing me away?” He asked, frustration evident in his voice. 

You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. "Because it can't work, Lando. We can't work."

His eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "Why not? Give me one good reason."

"We live in different countries, for starters," you said, your voice strained. "Our careers are completely incompatible. I'm supposed to report on you objectively, and you're supposed to trust that I won't use anything personal against you in my articles."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Lando snapped. "Look at Fernando and Melissa. We could make it work if we wanted to."

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. "It's not just that. We're too different, Lando. We argue constantly. Half the time I want to strangle you."

"And the other half?" he challenged.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said. 

“It does to me,” he shot back. 

“What would happen if we were together Lando?” you asked tirelessly. “If your fans hated me for writing about you, how would they treat me for dating you? I’ve seen how they treated your exes.” 

Lando was quiet for a moment, anger steaming off of him. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally said, coldly. “I guess I’m not worth it.”

You started to call after him but he was already gone. 

—--------------------------------------------

Lando’s season started off incredibly, winning the first three races all by over 5 seconds minimum. You would think that he would be ecstatic, his boyish energy returning to interviews and PR videos but that was not the case. He was pissed. Anyone that tried to talk to him was met with short answers and anytime McLaren made him do anything, he looked like he was being held at gunpoint. 

He wanted to get over you but he couldn’t. He’d never had anyone challenge him the way you did and he could still feel you sleeping in his arms that night from a couple of months ago. His friends were walking on eggshells around him and Carlos was about to lose it. 

“Please just call her,” Carlos begged, sitting next to Lando at dinner in Monaco. They had a couple weeks in between races and what was supposed to be an enjoyable break, was turning into a nightmare for Carlos due to Lando’s moodiness. 

“She doesn’t want anything to do with me, she made that quite clear,” Lando replied. 

“She’s just scared Lando, she’s literally been checking up on you,” he told his friend. A look of interest flashed across Lando’s face so Carlos kept going. “Oscar said she asked how you were doing just last week.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Lando finally said and Carlos groaned, resting his head into his hands. 

You were miserable. The past few months since pushing Lando away had been some of the hardest of your life. You threw yourself into work, covering IndyCar and trying to ignore the ache in your chest every time you saw news about Lando's incredible start to the F1 season.

But no matter how much you tried to distract yourself, thoughts of him kept creeping in. The way he looked at you that morning on your couch, hurt and confusion in his eyes as you pushed him away. The feeling of falling asleep in his arms, more content than you'd been in years.

You knew you had valid reasons for ending things before they really began. The complications of your careers, the distance, the intensity of F1 fandom. But the longer you went without talking to him, the more those reasons felt like excuses born out of fear.

OP: Hey, you asked about Lando last week. Thought you might want to know he's in a pretty bad mood lately. Carlos is at his wit's end.

You frowned, guilt gnawing at you. Was Lando's mood because of you? No, that was ridiculous. He was probably just stressed about the season, despite his early successes.

Y/N: Thanks for letting me know. I'm sure he'll snap out of it soon.

OP: c’mon y/n, I know you’re just as miserable as he is. 

You cursed your friend David who you knew told Oscar about how depressing your life had become. As you sat in your apartment that night your mind wandered back to that last conversation. 

Why did you push him away? Because you didn’t want to get hurt? 

The truth was, you were terrified. Terrified of letting someone in, of being vulnerable, of potentially getting your heart broken. But as you reflected on the past few months without Lando, you realized you were already heartbroken.

With shaking hands, you picked up your phone and dialed a number you had been avoiding.

"Hello?" Lando's voice was hesitant, guarded.

"Hey," you said softly. "It's me."

There was a long pause. "Y/n? Is everything okay?"

You took a deep breath. "No, actually. Everything's not okay. I... I miss you, Lando. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for pushing you away."

Another pause. And then nothing. He hung up.

[korebringerofded]

We Don't Talk About It- Zoro X FReader

Summary- It was easier to be casual, no strings attached with your fellow crewmate, but things get complicated. A/N- In the thralls of depression and managed to write something. No edit. No proofread. Rawdogging life rn. Don't judge me too hard. Warnings- Mentions of sex, fwb, cursing, reader is called 'my girl' by zoro like once, smut at the end, oral (f recieveing), Zoro a has big cock, Zoro almost (but doesn't) kill an npc.

Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated. All requests are open and you can find my entire masterlist here.

You wouldn’t necessarily say that your relationship with Roronora Zoro was complicated, you two agreed rather early on in your arrangement that it would be nothing more than casual sex, a heated passion of tongues and heat, hands desperately tearing clothes from sweaty bodies when the other felt that hot aching hunger that couldn’t go unsatiated.

Nothing more, of course. Just a fun and harmless way to let off steam. What’s the worst thing that could go wrong with fucking your crewmate anyways, right?

Nevermind all the times you would doze off in his arms, the ocean breeze ruffling his fuzzy green hair as you laid on his chest, all while your fingers easily traced along the sprawling scar across his chest. The whole time you lay there, all the famous sword-fighter can do is set your annoyingly cute face to memory.

You both swore it was casual, even when Zoro bought so many useless, pointless things, for the chance he would get to see your smile, hear the very laugh that kept him up at night. The way fiery rage would boil through him anytime he saw anyone flirting with you, touching you.

But of course, it wasn’t anything serious. Just casual, no-strings-attached, sometimes drunken, sex. Neither of you needed any distractions, after all.

Sure, maybe Zoro daydreamed about your taste, maybe he knew each and every place you liked to be touched. And yeah, maybe Zoro spent hours thinking about your lips on his cock, like you were his only relief, like he couldn’t cum without imagining your fucking eyes fluttering up at him,so glossy and wide, because fuck his own hand was incomparable to yours, no matter how many times he fucked his fist, it wasn’t the same as you.

But that was fine, normal even…right?

That’s exactly why you shouldn’t have cared, shouldn’t have felt a single thing as you stood at the edge of a crowded bar, the entire crew drinking and chatting and yet despite yourself, despite all the denial, you were noticeably distracted, eyes glued to the bar.

Zoro had (unsurprisingly) over-indulged, leaning against the bar with hazy and glossy eyes, a lazy grin on his face as a stranger, a young woman almost shamelessly flirted with him, a manicured hand trailing up his arm, probably admiring his toned muscles, the ones you had grown so used to, the ones you found yourself missing more and more.

You two weren’t exclusive, you had both fucked other people before and yet…that didn’t change the pang of jealousy that burned in your chest, spreading up and over your cheeks. You let out an audible sigh, making some vague excuse about needing air before pushing through the crowd and out into the cool, empty streets. You swallowed down the fresh air, letting the crisp breeze blow over you to cool your nerves, the heartache you chose to ignore.

You didn’t even need to look up to know who had followed after you, the familiar scent of sake and salty ocean air filling your senses, as Zoro leaned against the wall next to you. He was quiet for a while, the only sound on the near empty street was the festivities inside the tavern.

The entire time you could feel Zoro’s steely eye locked on you, his brows furrowed just slightly. He didn’t say anything, just occasionally glancing at you. You hated how it made you simmer, how much it affected you, even now. It all made your earlier frustrations bubble up as if they were fresh wounds.

You shot him a look, his tilted head, and slightly pink cheeks only making your anger burn and brew in your chest.

“What?” Your tone was sharper than you intended, making you quickly turn away from his annoying face.

"What’s with the cold shoulder?” Zoro huffed, moving to stand in front of you, a hand against the wall behind you, his hand going to your chin.

He leaned in closer and- you could smell that woman's perfume, lingering on his skin and you scoffed, pulling away from him.

“I’m surprised you remembered I was even here.” You rolled your eyes, hating the jealousy that burned through your chest.

Zoro could just blink at you, eyebrows furrowed as you pulled away from him, his eye scanning over you, the clenched fists, the anger that boiled.

“So…you’re pissed at me or somethin’?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

“No.” You said sharply. “So go back to your new little friend.” You turned to walk away from him.

“Tsk.” Zoro let out a breath, a pang of irritation rushing through him. “That’s what has you so upset?” He wanted to laugh, his jaw tight.

You took in a deep breath, trying to keep yourself from saying something you’d regret. Still, you hated this nauseating jealousy that was building within your chest. You tilted your head back to look at him, his expression tight as he stared down at you.

“You were flirting with that fucking cook all night, and I get the third degree for talking to another woman?” Zoro laughed darkly, shaking his head as he got nose-to-nose with you.

“Since when do you care about that?” You huffed, tone coming out sharper than you intended. Sure, maybe you had been talking to Sanji that night but it wasn’t like that, not at all.

“I-.” Zoro took a step forward, his eye softening just slightly as his mouth hung open, so many unspoken words that danced on the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill over.

“Of course I care.” Was what he wanted to say, was what every cell and atom in his body screamed at him to say.

The silence was so heavy, and your eyes on him so intensely only made it worse, he just wanted to kiss that damn look off your face and be done with this.

Instead, he tightened his jaw and scoffed, shaking his head in frustration.

“I don’t care. Fuck whoever you want. I will fuck whoever I want.” He snapped, hating the way his ears burned, hating the way the words felt on his tongue even as he walked away.

It was a lie, of course it was a lie.

Almost two weeks of the silent treatment from you was enough to descend the swordsman into shambles, his jaw tight and lone eye twitching. The entire crew could sense it, the tension, divide, the way Zoro watched your each and every move and how you, in turn, ignored all of his advances to bridge the ever growing gap between you two.

Maybe you were pushing this all a little too far, being too hard on the swordsman. You never agreed on anything exclusive, had never wanted it to be exclusive before. No matter how many times you tried to remind yourself of that, it didn’t soften the blow.

That heartache was probably how you ended up here, drinking entirely too much in a crowded bar. Nami sat across from you, equally drunk as you were. Countless glasses sat on the table the two of you leaned against.

You had definitely gotten too drunk, more drunk than you had intended to.Your mind was reeling and cheeks pink as you danced incredibly close with a man whose name you couldn’t even remember. You don’t even remember telling him your own name nor him telling you his. His hand curled around your hip, his warmth seeping into you as his leg pressed between your thighs. It wasn’t the same, of course. And no matter how hard you tried to push it from your mind, he wasn’t who you wanted.

You sighed, shamelessly tilting your head back as you felt this complete stranger push his thigh between your legs, bodies pressed so close your breasts pushed to his hard chest, the skirt of your dress pushing up more and more as his hands wandered over your thighs and hips.

And then all at once- as if an unseeable force just ripped the stranger away, leaving you blinking and gasping as your bleary eyes took in the scene before you.

Zoro stood there, his face twisted in rage as held the man up by the edges of his shirt, his chest rising and falling with barely contained fury. His eyes full of fiery rage, his breath coming out in deep huffs.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Zoro growled, dropping him and the minute the man's feet touched the ground, he shoved his hand flat against the man's chest, the impact sending a deep crunch echoing through the bar as the man practically flew, colliding with the wall in a sickening crack.

You could just stand there, stupidly drunk, doe-eyed and cheeks so pink it just made Zoro’s head spin more, the beer he had drank that night still simmering in his veins.

“We are leaving. Now.” He said, leaving no room for question as he grabbed your arm and started to pull you after him.

You immediately shoved his hands away, arms crossing over your hips as Zoro slowly turned back to you, the veins in his muscled arms twitching as he got nose-to-nose with him.

“Why did you do that?!” You snapped, shoving at his shoulders, though Zoro could just stare down at you, nostrils flaring.

“Why?” Zoro laughed humorlessly, like ice running down your spine. Zoro inhaled deeply, shaking his head.

Without another word, Zoro had you scooped up and tossed over his shoulder. He didn’t care that everyone in the place had witnessed the scene. He just ignored your curses, ignored the squirms and the way you smacked and hit him you ranted at him. HIs silence only made you more angry as he carried you out of the bar and down the dark street.

“Put me down, you piece of shit!’ You huffed

You hated feeling like this, so vulnerable, so furious, even when you knew you had no right to be.

And eventually he did put you down, waiting until you had stopped cursing and smacking him.

He was gentle as he sat you back down on unsteady heels.You could only glare up at him, cheeks pink from all the drinks you had, definitely too much.

“Do you enjoy fucking with me?” He asked, eye sharp and full of icy rage.

“Excuse m-.” You started, but Zoro moved forward, his hand slamming audibly on the wall behind you, trapping you in with his arms, the muscles twitching and tight.

“You ignore me for days, I go to find you, to try and fix whatever this is.” He waves his hand between the two of you. “And then, I hear from long-nose that you’re going out. I searched every bar in this fucking town and this is what I find.” Zoro growled, his hands trembling.

“Oh, so now you care what I do?” You scoffed, arms crossing over your chest, looking away from his steely gaze.

“Stop with the bullshit.” He snapped, jaw tight. “I’ve been goin’ fucking crazy, I don’t know what you want from me.” His tone was softer now, his eyebrows furrowed. “And seeing you with someone else it-.” Zoro shook his head, rubbing his neck with a sigh. “I almost lost it.”

Almost? You were sure the poor guy had a broken rib-maybe two, if he had even survived that.

“You could’ve killed that guy.” You muttered.

“I should’ve killed him.” Zoro said, a deadly serious look on his face.

There was a silence, a moment of shock between both of you, you were shocked that he had said it, and Zoro couldn’t believe he had been drunk enough to say it. He could just groan, rub his face in irritation before looking back down at your stupidly cute and sweet face.

“I have always cared.” He said suddenly.

“What?” Your voice was meek, eyes and sharp expression softening as you saw the look of desperation, the regret on his face.

“I…didn’t mean to hurt you, to…make you think I don’t care I-.” He stopped, his cheeks burning up and he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I care too fucking much, actually.” He continued.

“But you- you said.” You started, your heart racing at his closeness, at the rawness in his voice.

“I was just being shitty, I…was acting shitty. I was jealous, that’s it.” Zoro mumbled. “Please- I can’t take anymore of this silent treatment bullshit.”

Seeing how much it had affected him, the true regret and emotion on his face made your eyes flutter, cheeks burn up at his uncharacteristically soft words. The ache in your chest now replaced with a fiery thrum that echoed through your entire body.

“You were…jealous? Of Sanji?” You asked, a teasing smile on your face that only made Zoro scowl and pinch your cheek.

“Of course I was, stupid.” He mumbled. “Did you really think I would want anyone as much as I want you?” He asked, his hand brushing over your cheek, he couldn’t help but savor each touch, each glance.

“You want me?” You asked

He let out a dark laugh, letting his head slip to the crook of your neck so he could take in your scent, your warmth, like he was starved and worn.

“Every second of every day.This face, this body. I can’t think straight when it comes to you” He said in a low voice, his hands gripping your hips as if to emphasize his point.

You were both too drunk, too close and…when he looked up at you, neither of you had a shred of hesitation before your lips collided, neither sure who started it. Only that you both stumbled back to the ship. Hushed giggles and stolen kisses exchanged as Zoro clumsily lead you to an empty room. His hands moved quickly, almost desperately, over your flesh, spreading out under your clothes, his fingers trailing down the expanse of your stomach.

“Zo’, slow down. M’not gonna disappear.” You managed out, giggling softly as Zoro grabbed your legs and dragged you forward so he could press soft kisses down your ankle.

“Maybe I don’t wanna take that chance.” Zoro hummed, his steely eye watching each and every reaction, taking in each sound you made like it was a siren's song.

His rough, tanned hands dragged along your thighs, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch before his fingers brushed over the clips of your heels and he quickly, expertly, unfashioned them, letting the clatter to the floor.

“Ever the gentleman.” You teased, pushing up on your elbows as Zoro tugged off his shirt, his muscles tense and eyes hungry as he stared down at you.

“Gotta treat my girl nice, hm?”

Those words made you pause, your heart racing at the way his eyes locked on yours, the almost nervous expression on his face, like he was worried about what you would say, what you would think.

“I just-” He started, eyes flickering over your blushing cheeks, that damn smile.

It kept him up for weeks, that face.

You chewed on your lip, pushing yourself off the bed and standing before him, hands trailing over his scarred chest, tracing along each line, each mark. His scent made you dizzy, seasalt and cedar, sweat. You could almost feel his own heart beating as hard as yours was. You rested your hand there before leaning in and connecting your lips, it wasn't rushed or rough.

Your arms looped around his neck, neck tilted as Zoro slipped his tongue between your glossy lips, the taste of sake still on his breath as he invaded your mouth, his hands coming up to your hips, gripping the ends of your dress and tugging it up and over your head.

He had seen your body countless times, and yet for some reason this time felt so different, like it was the first time either of you allowed yourself to feel anything real from these fleeting moments. LIke Zoro let himself actually want you.

“S’ fuckin beautiful.” Zoro almost groaned, his fingers trailing over your hips, old scars. His mouth practically watering at your soft skin presented just for him. His fingers tugged away at your bra in a swift motion, a low hum at the hardened peaks of your nipples, the way your cheeks flushed.

His eye scanned down your body, his thumb hooking under the thin straps of your panties before he tugged them down, a starved expression on his face as he gently laid you back on the bed, pressing kisses down your ankle, up your thighs before he was settled between them.

“Been thinking about this for weeks.” He muttered, pressing soft kisses to your clit, around it, his tongue dragging slow and agonizing circles around your bundle of nerves. “Need to taste you, feel you cum until your legs fuckin’ shake.” He groaned, voice muffled and his cock pressing painfully against the bed, desperate for any friction as precum soaked his boxers.

He truly acted starved, his hands gripping your thighs tightly so you couldn't pull away or escape his touch, his hungered movements as his tongue pressed past your folds, curling and lapping up all your essence that he could. He shifted again, moving to suck on your puffy clit.

You were a mess, near sobbing as you came, once twice, coming up on a third time as Zoro continued his assault. He had moved so one of his expert fingers curled and twisted in your tight cunt while his tongue swirled over your clit.

“Z-Zo’.” You whined, a pleading desperate tone to your voice as you tugged at his messy green hair. “N-need you inside.” You whined, eyebrows furrowed and face hot with tears.

He smirked, a wolfish grin on his face as he pulled back, his fingers and mouth leaving your sex just long enough so he can tug his boxers away and leaving you feeling empty, the need and want for him growing even hotter in your core.

You couldn’t stop the gasp as you saw his cock, messy curls at the base and pulsing with need. Zoro had always stretched you out in a painfully delicious way, but it always shocked you regardless of that. Tanned skin, pink fat tip that he pressed against your slick folds, letting out a groan as your slick coated him, your warmth pressed against him and making his hands tighten around your hips.

“How bad you want it, hm?” He chuckled darkly, hips pushing forward so his tip pushed past your walls, stretching and aching for more, desperate for all of him.

“D-don’t be mean.” You huffed out, already panting from your previous orgasam’s, head still spinning and your stomach tight with tension.

“C’mon, you’re so soaked for me. Just wanna hear ya’ say it.” He said, continuing his movements, pushing his tip just past your walls before dragging his fat tip along her clit, her folds.

“Z-zoro. Please, I need you. Only you.” Your voice, the sweetness in your tone was enough to make Zoro snap, his hips slamming flush against yours. You scrambled to cover your mouth to quiet the moans and gasps that came tumbling out.

“That’s right, y-you’re mine.” He grunted, hands spreading your legs deliciously so his tip could burry deep into your plush walls that trembled around him, your desire soaking the bed, your thighs. “Only mine.” He groaned, his tense and fat balls slapping against your flesh as he continued pounding into your awaiting cunt which tightened and pulsed.

Zoro was delirious, drunk on the liquor he had drank indeed but more so with this, the teary look in your eyes, the bruising pace he kept, unrelenting and heavy as his desire boiled over, the cord snapping as he felt you tighten again, and he came deep in your cunt, letting his seed fill your womb. He had to mark you, remind himself you were his, only his.

Exhausted, you both collapsed there, sweaty limbs entangled, drunk on each other, on the passion.

And for once, neither of you left or recoiled. Zoro just tugged you into his arms, holding you there until you both drifted off.

Please do not copy, use my work, or put it through AI without my permission or I'll be really sad about it!!

[thepancakeking]

I hate to be that guy @worseandworsebytheday , but your wrong. As someone who 100% dark souls 3, bloodborne and elden ring (I'm working on DS 1) elden ring is amazing. Is it perfect? HELL NO, I won't step within a mile of pvp, and I have bosses i would gladly dip in sulfuric acid. But to say that rani and the moonlight greatsword are the only good parts is to ignore so much of what makes the game fun.

As someone who played the dark souls games, to say that elden ring is boring is so stupid, elden ring is a beautiful game, with amazing designs. Each area felt new and like it was crafted with love. Meanwhile the most interesting area of dark souls is the grand archives and Raya lucaria did a great job of capturing that. Dungeons in elden ring feel new and fresh with different puzzles and enemy placements, and if completed at the correct level, then the reward feels well worth it.

Saying that ranni was the only worthwhile character shows me that you either completely skipped, or ignored all of the other questlines. Alexander's questline felt so much sad to me, ranni's badass, don't get me wrong, but alexander is a sad story that reminds me of seigwards story from DS3, as a soldier trying to prove himself before he can return to his home, and ends up killed by someone he once called a friend.

I love that you say that elden rings story is convoluted, then mention bloodborne as being better. Either way, I agree, elden rings story is complicated and I sound like a madman trying to figure it out. But I love that, gimme the crazy stories that make enough sense that it gives me an "ooooohhh" moment, but I also wouldn't ever expect the twist in a million years. Like hell yeah this lady is fucking a dead shardbearer that is both poisoning the land, and the size of the land. And while your at it, yes I will kill your dragon child, why the hell not.

elder scrolls or elden ring. there is a right answer

Listen I love skyrim, but you have to be a bumbling fucking moron if you think it's better than Elden Ring!!!!

[tovibeornottovibe]

Club Rats

Azriel x Fem!OC

Azriel and Merrin have been meeting in clubs for months now. Sometimes, they ditch Rita's for dinner, and most of the time, they end up sleeping together. It's better than relying on the skills of strangers, and they like each other, probably more than either of them would admit. This time, they drink far, far too much, make some regrettable decisions that get them thrown out, and share a moment more intimate than they ever have before. [2.7k words]

warnings: excessive drinking, mentions of spiking and Azriel not taking that as seriously as you should!, self-destructive behaviour, mentions of sex (no smut tho), Azriel being the rude, snarky, imperfect male that he is (not towards the OC, to everyone else)

Prefer to read on Ao3? [this is a series there! let me know if you want me to post those fics on here too (:]

“Azriel.”

He looks up. The sound of the sea washes over him as he sits there, legs hanging off the edge of the dock, with his thigh brushing hers. His wings feel like deadweight, like his muscles aren’t even connected to his body. She’s settled in the crook of the right one, and every time she breathes, her shoulder nudges him where he wants her to put her tongue.

It’s maybe four-in-the-morning. He doesn’t know. They got kicked out of Rita’s not more than an hour ago. Merrin bashed in some male’s teeth. Azriel bashed in his jaw. His shadows won’t tell him why she did it, and he doesn’t know why he helped. 

For the briefest moment, he remembers that they might have banned them for it. He huffs out a laugh.

Both he and Merrin are very, very drunk. He’s not entirely convinced they didn’t get spiked. It should concern him, but they’re both suffering, and that’s a comfort. 

They’ve been trying  to convince each other that they were just in this for the sex for the past few minutes. They like each other, but it’s just release, you know?

Head heavy from the alcohol, he cranes his neck forward to look at her face. He distinctly thinks she is the most beautiful female he’s ever seen, and guiltily goes through why she’s prettier than Elain. It’s totally unfair and he knows thinking about it makes him an asshole. Merrin’s hair is a nicer colour and she lacks the etherealness of High Fae that unsettles him. She fits better in his arms; she’s tall enough that he can rest his chin on her head without bending down when they embrace, and when they’re in bed, he can tangle their legs together and she can settle into the curve of his body without issue. Of course, these things were fantasy with Elain.

He swallows thickly. “Yeah?”

She hesitates and something in his gut twists, like he can tell she’s about to say something serious. 

“Are we—are you happy?”

For some reason, that makes him laugh. It’s a horrible, bitter, broken kind of laughter. It’s utterly without warmth. He hates it, actually.

“No,” he says, and it’s true. “Are you?”

She offers him a smile. “Not at all,” she says. “What a fucking pair we make, eh?” Something inside him recoils at the thought of her putting herself at his level. Giggling, she presses her forehead into his shoulder and clutches his forearm where the scars on his skin meet the unmarred flesh. Then she sighs. “Gods,” she says like she’s just discovered the secret to life, “you’re actually an important person, and you’re miserable.”

“It’s not all cocktail parties and fountains of champagne,” he says.

“No,” she laughs. “You torture people for a living.”

Though he stiffens, not even that can knock him out of whatever it was they drank. Feeling him tense, she shifts so her chin is resting on his shoulder, and she laughs again when she sees the look on his face.

“It doesn’t bother me,” she says. “That’s kinda fucked, right?”

It’s stupid that it makes him feel good. It’s stupid that he likes hearing that. Some days, he doesn’t think it bothers him either. And yeah, that is kinda fucked. He kills people for his brother. A lot of the time, they probably don’t even deserve it. Yet, here he is, with the most gorgeous female in the world, drunk off his ass with her, and she doesn’t care that he tortures people for a living.

“It is,” he says. “Really fucked.”

Merrin grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers, and he lets her because he wants her to touch him. All of the time. He thinks about her so often that one day it’ll probably get him killed, but if he goes out with her on his mind, he’ll consider it a pretty decent way to die. Cassian would throttle him for saying that. Rhys and Feyre too. Mor would look at him like he’d lost his mind and call him an idiot.

Merrin would make a joke and smile at him.

“I don’t think we’re fucking tonight, Azriel.”

He hums in agreement. “We’re not in a state to do that anyway,” he says, “but I would if we were.”

“I would too.” She goes back to resting her cheek against his shoulder and he can smell the shampoo she uses. Gently, she rubs circles with her thumb on the back of his palm. It’s probably more intimate than they have ever been in bed and the feeling runs up his arm and into his brain. He traces her reddened, bloodied knuckles. “Wanna just sleep?”

He raises a brow at her. “Together?”

“Literally. In the same bed. Just sleep.”

“...Okay.”

“Come on then,” she says softly, pulling herself up more gracefully than the amount of drink in her system should allow for, then she’s tugging him up too, despite the fact that he’s heavier. With the amount of force it takes, she almost loses her balance and tips backwards, but he catches her at the waist. “Back to mine?”

In response, his shadows languidly start to swirl at his shoulders. They’re objecting to the presence of her cat, but the chances are that it’ll be asleep, or otherwise outside, since it likes exploring the city in the early hours of the morning. 

Raskal meows at the bedroom door at inconvenient times: sometimes when they’re asleep; sometimes when they’re in the middle of something else. It’s so achingly domestic that Azriel can’t even be annoyed. Merrin always comes back after letting Raskal out and buries her face into the crook of his neck, clings to his torso like he might disappear if she didn’t. She blames it on the cold, but she’s from the Winter Court and never gets chilly. If he’s awake enough, he pulls her on top of him and cards his hands through her hair, usually in an attempt to lull her back to sleep.

Hand-in-hand, they stumble back through the city to her apartment. Merrin makes him crouch down so she can pet a stray cat for what seems like half an hour, but it’s really only for a few minutes. Passersby stare at them and look away when he glares. No one will mention what they see, not to the rest of the Inner Circle; that’s asking for trouble, and the city has had enough. 

He has no idea why he’s letting her do this with him. They aren’t together. They’re club rats who keep finding themselves in each other’s company and more often than not, they end up sleeping together because they trust each other and it’s easier than gaining the attention of a stranger. 

Though, recently, they’ve been ditching Rita’s for dinner, and he’s glad because these days he’s eating less and less when he’s in the House of Wind. Merrin takes him to little bistros he knows only by name. He brings her to fancy restaurants and she always laughs because they look so out-of-place with her in slinky, little dresses and with his lipstick-stained cheeks that the High Fae actually turn up their noses. She once ate a whole meal with her fingers to really push it, and they couldn’t kick them out because he’s a member of the Inner Circle. Things like that are why he likes her company. She’s so unconcerned about what other people think of her in the way that the rest of his family pretend they are. 

She’s a smart person. She understands that people assume things about the nature of their relationship, about her, and about him, even though they know nothing. More than once, she’s been called a whore, and, more than once, he’s scared someone shitless for it. And she doesn’t care. Not that she should be ashamed, but Azriel isn’t certain that Merrin ever feels shame for anything she does. Regret, maybe, but not humiliation. 

People, the ones whose opinions are worth listening to, like Merrin. She’s compassionate and generous and she can make even him roar with laughter. She isn’t those things because she wants approval for them, she just is. It’s so rare that he meets someone who has no ulterior motive, who speaks their mind and says what they want with no caveats.

Azriel can’t tell if he’s in love with her or if they’re just friends who fuck sometimes. If they’re really friends at all. He doesn’t know which of those things he even wants. He knows that he likes holding her hand. Likes the sound of her voice and that his heart stutters sometimes when she laughs. He could sit and listen to her go on tangents about anything and everything for hours on end. 

Her choice of dress tonight is driving him insane: the black velvet hugs her curves and it barely reaches her mid-thigh. Open at the back, the expanse of her smooth skin that he has dragged his hands down countless times teases him. He wants to pull at the curls in her hair.

When they’re in bed, he’s almost insatiable. He’ll stay between her thighs and do pretty much anything she asks of him. Seeing her flawless form when she punched that male earlier sent twitching heat racketing through him. But so does waking up to her making tea, wearing his shirt, humming to herself. 

It’s a lie that he isn’t happy. Here, on this random street in Velaris, with his head pounding and his legs not quite working as they should, in Merrin’s blissful presence, he’s happier than ever.

Maybe he does love her.

Would she have invited him back to her apartment just to sleep if all she wanted from him was sex?

Would it feel so normal to be with her, to recognise the scent of her even in a crowd of writhing bodies in a club, if he didn’t feel something for her? 

Is it strange that he sleeps better in bed with her curled into his side than he ever has in the townhouse? That she can chase away his bad dreams just by tightening her grip on his waist? That he hasn’t had anyone else because the thought of sleeping with another makes him feel ill?

He can’t figure it out and maybe doesn’t want to right now.

He squeezes her hand and drags her away from the stray, leading her down alleyways so they can get to the townhouse where she owns the top-floor apartment. The stairwell is in no way designed for Illyrians, so his wings scrape against the walls. She's pushing him up in front of her so he goes quicker and doesn’t have to endure the discomfort for so long. They’re definitely stamping about and waking her neighbours.

But they’ve undoubtedly done that before. He’s reminded of the time he carried her upstairs and didn’t wait until they were at her door before he pulled her underwear down. Merrin shamelessly moaned his name particularly loudly halfway up and complained in the morning that the female who lives below her might not cat-sit for her on account of disturbed sleep. He’d snickered. She smacked him in the arm.

Not tonight, he reminds himself. Tonight, they’re sleeping off whatever was in their drinks.

When her front door clicks shut behind them, he almost pins her against it and kisses her. It’s only her ducking under his arm and taking him to her bedroom by grabbing his shirt which stops him. He can kiss her in bed, he thinks. Not with any expectations. He just wants to.

“I think I lied earlier,” she says, pulling at the ties of her dress before he takes over for her wordlessly, letting her continue. “I am happy sometimes. I just don’t think I’m content. They’re different, right?” She peers over her shoulder at him when his fingers still at the small of her back, the dress starting to slip off her as he nears the final tie. 

“They are,” he replies. “I don’t think I’m content either.” Then he undoes the final tie and the dress falls to the floor in a heap of black velvet. She steps out of her stupidly high heels and kicks them towards the door. 

He’s absolutely not focusing on the fact that she’s left wearing nothing but lacy, black panties. He’s not thinking about the fact she’s topless as she disappears into the bathroom to clean off her makeup. He does not care that when she comes back and he’s lying on her bed in his underwear that she picks up his shirt and drapes it around herself to sleep in.

Instead of going to her side, Merrin climbs on top of him, her knees in the space between his hips and his wings, and he instinctively curls his arm around her to pull her down to him. She’s practically pinning him down with her arms braced against the pillow below his head. Despite the Autumn chill, she’s warm.

He gets his kiss. It’s tender, slow, and without heat. Her lips are soft and he lets her push her tongue in his mouth lazily. They’re uncoordinated and a little messy, but it’s fine, he doesn’t care because it’s her. It feels like they’re the only two people in the world, like all things have led to right here, right now, and he thinks that everything that’s happened to him has been worth it. When they separate, she presses chaste, wet kisses on his cheeks and along his jaw and makes him smile. 

“What would make you content, Az?” she asks quietly.

He could say lots of things, most of them he shouldn’t admit to because they’re both still drunk and it’s a bad idea to make serious decisions when your head feels like lead. 

But…

“Just—stay there,” he says, shaking the vulnerability from his tone, sliding his hands under the shirt and settling them at her hips. He refrains from toying with the waistband of her underwear.

Merrin kisses the crest of his brow and his cheekbones. “What?” she asks, smiling when he starts to blush. “For the whole night?” He hums confirmation. She whispers against his lips, “That would make you content?”

“If I wake up with you on top of me too.” The distance between them is closed. He runs his fingers along the back of her thigh while his other hand creeps up the dip of her spine, pulling her impossibly closer until they’re chest-to-chest and he can feel how her nipples have pebbled through her—his—shirt. Of her own accord, she shifts her hips a little lower until she’s sitting on his pelvis, giving him just a hint of friction. He tuts and pulls away. “What happened to just sleeping, Merrin?”

They need to rest. At the same time, he also needs to know how wet she’ll be if he sinks a finger into her tight heat. She’s always so… reactive. Learning all her sensitive spots has been a lesson he never wants to finish. She isn’t shy about showing him. 

She catches his hand before he can satisfy his curiosity.

“Just reminding you of what we would be doing if we hadn’t drunk that last bottle of liqueur,” she says, shimmying even lower so she can rest her head on his chest, slotting her legs between his thighs. 

He sighs a laugh, his eyelids suddenly heavy. “Like I needed reminding.” When he rests his free hand on the back of her head, dipping his fingers into the fine hair at the top of her neck, he feels her melt against him and fully relax. He tugs the covers and pulls them over the both of them. “What would make you content?” he asks softly, letting himself sync his breathing with the rise and fall of her shoulders, with the soft puffs of air he can feel on his pectoral where his tattoos mingle with her flaring curls. Somehow, the sight of them doesn’t make him wince as often as it used to, but he sees them more these days. Merrin likes to trace the lines of ink in the mornings.

“I don’t know,” she says, “‘suppose we’ll find out if I feel the same as you when we wake up.”

He blames the drinking, but he hopes that she does.

[bathroomcryptid]

The Real Housewives of the Imperium

A/N: This is just some bullshit my brain vomited while I was procrastinating other things. Enjoyyy

Lore Drop���️ before we begin: In my personal headcanon of whatever the fuck this is, the wives of the Primarchs definitely act as a political arm of their respective legion/Primarch. They are the ones that involve themselves with the administration and nobility and royalty of the Imperium, and this is a role the Primarchs are happy enough to dump on them while they’re off fighting wars. It also means that the wives run into each other a lot.

Who Hates Each other?

-I would say no one really hates each other, but that’s a lie. The Red Lady and the Wolf Mother cannot under any circumstances be in the same room together, they will absolutely kill each other it’s not pretty.

-The Raven Mother, while not generally having any disagreements with anyone, is just around so rarely it’s hard to say she has any really good friends amongst the wives.

Who are friends?

-First, The Khatun has some freaky superpower that lets her get along with literally everyone and everyone loves her. She is literally everyone’s best friend and she loves it.

-Lady Lupercal, The Mother of the Salamanders, and The Khatun have seen everything. These were the first three spouses and the only Primarch spouses for a long time. Not only were they the first, but they were also the only three to have been with their husbands prior to the Emperor’s appearance. These three wrote the book and have a deep friendship because of their circumstances.

-The Lady of the Hydra, the Dark Lady, Lady Guilliman, Lady Lupercal, and the Lady of the Emperor’s Children are all somehow extremely good friends and it’s so bad for everyone’s health because these women SCHEME. If you fuck with them or their husbands they will have the entire Imperium legitimately thinking you sacrifice babies to pagan gods in your free time by the next cycle do not mess with them. They also will pull up to the function with the best gossip.

-A surprising friendship here - the Mother of the Salamanders and Lady Curze. Everyone was expecting the Red Lady and Wolf Mother round two with these two, but noooo, they get along like a house on fire and that’s what they’ll do to yours if you fuck with them. Whereas our Quintet of trouble up there will spin you around with their words, these two are more of the “corner you in a dark alley with a knife and threaten you within an inch of your life” type.

-The Lady of the Death Guard, Lady Aurelian, the Khatun, and Lady Kurze also float around each other because they are four of the genuinely nicest people you’ll ever meet and they subconsciously bond over it.

-The Wolf Mother and the Dark Lady are drinking buddies

How do they complain about their husbands/step-children to each other?

-Now when it comes to complaining? The Lady of Iron is there, first in line to start complaining about her husband and you know who’s right behind her? The Lady of the Iron Hands because I know in my heart of hearts she’s beefing with her step-children. Between these two there are literal hours of content.

-Even though those two are in a league of their own, most gatherings between these women usually devolve into complaints about their husbands.

-Fun fact: It’s actually during one of these complaint sessions that Lady Guilliman got the idea to ban paperwork from the bedroom.

-Although, some of these women are putting back breaking work into these men, so honestly, they deserve to complain a little

Who is talking up their husbands/step-sons?

-You know who’s not complaining? Lady Aurelian and the Lady of the Death Guard on god they love their husbands more than anything and no one knows why because they are so hot. Deadass, they pulled up to the function looking like goddesses with baked goods and everyone else was like “…sorry, the Imperium’s Next Top Model is like two doors down”, but no they were in fact in the right place and everyone is still surprised.

-Also, be careful when it comes to mentioning the step-children because there are some *cough* The Mother of the Salamanders *cough* who keep a whole book of all their kids and their accomplishments on them at all times and they will yap on about them for HOURS. The Mother of the Salamanders is like one of those dads that have pictures of their kids accordion style in their wallet and they open it up and a whole string of pictures falls out but she has too many kids so she needs a book.

-It’s also a perilous topic of conversation around The Lady of Angels and The Lady of the Emperor’s Children because they will pull out their step kid’s artwork and they will make you look at it and compliment it. For. Hours.

-It’s not unheard of for particularly these three to be at events with the step-children and not shut the fuck up about them.

…

The Mother of the Salamanders: *to the person next to her* This is my son [insert Salamander name here]. He is just the most wonderful son ever. He just got back from defending a planet from Xenos! Look at this picture of him right after they claimed victory! *holds up a picture of said Salamander covered in blood looking majestic on the battlefield* And look at this sword he just made! He’s so talented! *proceeds to open a whole scrapbook, flip to said son’s page, and fold out a ton of pictures because they wouldn’t all fit on the paper* And look at this-

Salamander: *blushing under his helmet*

…

The Mother of Angels: *to the person next to her* You know, my son here [insert Blood Angel name here] is quite the performer.

Random Noble Probably: Ah, really-

The Mother of Angels: Yes! He’s just so talented! *pulls out a stack of photos* You see, this is him playing the piano, his first instrument, and then here you see he decided to try out the harp. He’s absolutely excellent at both and then- *continues chattering on and on*

Blood Angel: *flattered that Mom cares so much*

…

The Lady of the Emperor’s Children: *sits down next to someone* Hello, lovely, how are you?

Random Noble: Ah, My Lady, I’m well and you?

Lady of the Emperor’s Children: Ah, I’m spectacular. Say, have you met my son [insert Emperor’s Child name here]?

Random Noble: We have not had the pleasure.

Lady of the Emperor’s Children: Well, this is [insert name again]. You know, he’s quite the talent, almost perfect at anything he tries his hand at. You know, he recently picked up painting. *starts rummaging and pulls out a stack of photos* See, here was his first one. I was so surprised at how good he was on his first try, and then he followed it up with this one and I was absolutely blown away! *Off she goes on a tangent*

Emperor’s Child: *can’t tell whether to be flattered or concerned that Mom has that many pictures of him*

…

-Though they aren’t the only three culprits of this, most of them have done this, the rest of them, though, usually shut up after about an hour or two and only have a few pictures on them of their step kids.

-cuts over to the Lady of the Iron Hands and her step-children who are trying to growl at each other around a very tired looking Ferrus Manus who is sat between them.

-though, most of these women love to brag about their step-children and how great at everything they are.

-The Lady of Iron is also another big culprit, she loves showing off her step-kids. She has also threatened Perterabo within an inch of his life when he’s ragged on his kids.

-The mental health of the Iron Warriors rose significantly once the Lady of Iron was apart of the picture.

-Almost as much as they like bragging about their husbands.

-As much as they complain, this is a group of the most fiercely loyal group of women you’ll ever get in a room together.

-They hear a whisper of a complaint about their husband? It’s over for you, you’ll be dead or wishing you were by dinner. They hear you praise their husband? You’re not leaving until they’ve told you every amazing thing their husbands have ever done in their lives.

The Ultimate Uniting Factor:

-There is one person, one man, in the entirety of the known and unknown galaxy who has the ability to bring these women, even the Red Lady and the Wolf Mother, together like nobody else: Big E

-If you mumble under your breath anything that could possibly be construed as a complaint against the Emperor of Mankind then you may as well have shined the Batsignal in the air because these women are coming out of the woodwork.

-Now they are all here and they have all involved you in a conversation that couldn’t be construed as anything but absolute treason if it were to come out of anyone else’s mouth

-If you were to put these women in a room together and point a camera at them and let them talk for a few hours, every single time it would devolve into irate ranting about Big E. You would never catch a kind word about Big E falling from their lips.

-The Emperor won’t step foot in the same zip code as these women because he understands that they are down every second of every day to literally evict him from life.

-The Emperor literally started a crusade as an excuse to leave Terra because he got word that the Khatun was on her way.

-Say what you will about the Emperor of Mankind, he’s smart enough to know that these women will end him where he stands if they ever get their hands on him.

[4ttack-ur-heart]

Abstract Love~

NSFW

Pairing: Rafayel x fem! Reader

Warnings: Rafayel tops, smut, scissors used to cut clothing.

Summary: What had started out as a wholesome idea of becoming Rafayel’s human canvas quickly shifts into sexual tension and a passionate night.

AN: I haven’t written a fic in like over a year so bare with me if there’s any mistakes or it’s just bad lol 😭

————————————————————————

“Hold still, Cutie.” Rafayel gently commands as he grips your wrist.

His tongue just barely pokes past his normally pouting lips in concentration as he angles the paintbrush carefully over your skin.

You let out a small giggle as the brush fibers danced across your ticklish arm. “It tickles though.”

He lets out a dramatic sigh and grips your wrist a little tighter.

You see, the day just started with him painting a commission and you stopped by to spend time with him and wind down after a long week. But after many little snarky comments and teasing each other, he managed to splatter you with paint as a joke.

Unfortunately for you, the paint splatter (according to Rafayel) looked just like a specific species of coral that grew in Lemuria. To you, it looked just like what it was; a paint splatter. He's the artist, though.

So now, you’re being held hostage and yelled at to hold still by your dramatic boyfriend while he finishes your new armpiece on the round ottoman in his living room.

“Ya know, people would kill for me to paint on them.” He says and his gaze shifts from your arm to your eyes. “You could be just a little grateful.”

Blowing a stray piece of hair out your face, you roll your eyes at his comment but stay silent.

He continues working in silence after that. A bit of annoyance runs through you as he continues to trail the paintbrush higher up your arm until the strokes hit the edge of your t-shirt sleeve.

Rafayel grabs your sleeve and tugs at the material impatiently. “Off.”

“No, Raf, I just wanna relax and you still have to finish your piece-”

“Please, baby?”

Fuck, now Rafayel sits there with the saddest puppy dog eyes as his eyebrows curve up. He even adds a lip wobble in there to really get under your skin.

You let out a sigh, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you agree. “Okay, okay. Big baby.” Your fingers curl underneath your top to take it off.

Rafayel’s hand quickly grabs you before you can tug any further. “Wait, you’re gonna smudge the paint.”

And just like that, your blood pressure rises again. Your arms drop down to your sides and wait for more directions, cause apparently you aren’t doing it right.

“Please don’t hate me.” He stands up and walks over to a nearby cabinet with his back turned towards you. All you can hear is junk rattling around as he rummages in one of the drawers.

As he turns around, you don’t miss the shiny glint in the basking sunlight of what he is holding in his hands.

You quickly sit up straighter and your mouth drops open in shock. “You are not cutting off my shirt.”

Rafayel sits down beside you again, yet you back away as he moves closer.

“Please? I’ll buy you like ten more,” he begs as if he were asking you for a piece of candy. Rafayel stares at your glare in dismay, and then the begging continues.

“Raf, I like this shirt.”

“My love,” his arms wrap around your waist and he nestles his head into your lap. “I’ve been working on that commission for hours. I just need a little break.”

Rafayel’s warm breath fans over the exposed skin on your tummy and lets out a soft groan as his arms tighten around your body.

“My rock, my inspiration, my muse. I’ll never ask for anything again.”

You let out a laugh knowing damn well that wasn’t true in the slightest.

He pouts again at your reaction and lets out a huff. “What’s it gonna take?”

Your fingers thoughtfully stroke your chin as if you were a wise man with a beard. “I want you to take me to that nice restaurant with the fancy classical music.”

He goes to respond but you cut him off before he could even let out a sound.

“And a trip to the arcade. They have a new plushie collection.”

“Done.” Rafayel pushes your body against the ottoman as he moves to straddle you and makes sure to push all of your hair away from your shirt. “Hold still, baby.”

If circumstances were a bit different, this would be so sexy.

He grips the bottom of your top, the cool metal of the scissors gently grazing your skin sending shivers up your body. The thin fabric easily slices as he gets closer to your neck.

“Tilt your head back.” His free hand grips your chin and gently pushes back, exposing your neck. With a final snip, the fabric now hangs loosely off your body, leaving just your bra exposed. He helps you out of it and discards the ruined shirt and scissors to the side.

Rafayel continues to hover over you, his breath growing ragged at the sight of your breasts straining against your bra from the position. He leans down and places a lingering kiss on your lips. His tongue glides over your bottom lip before slowly dragging his lips down your jawline and neck.

“R-raf…” you breathe out. What the heck is he doing? Is he trying to make you horny or trying to make art? If he continues, you’d know you both would be too turned on and needy for each other to continue.

“I know, I know.” His head falls on your chest in defeat. “I won’t be able to stop if we keep going.”

There’s a silence for a few moments before he lets out a sigh, the air flowing between the valley of your breasts.

Letting out another groan, Rafayel focuses on finishing you- well, his art on you.

“Don’t get horny. Don’t get horny. Don’t get horny.” The muffled words ring from him like a prayer and it sends you into a laughing fit.

“C'mon finish up.” You tap at his arm and he reluctantly sits up and grabs the paintbrush again.

The next 20 minutes were spent in silence. Your eyes were closed as you didn’t think you'd find this activity as relaxing as you originally thought. The occasional hums and steady breathing fill the void in the meantime. Rafayel had managed to paint his way up your arm, across your clavicle, and back down to the other arm. The original coral piece he had started with had expanded into various designs of foliage, all oceanic of course. Vibrant colors littered your body as different designs of seaweed, shells, and even bubbles coated most of your top half.

You feel the tip of the brush swoop down between your cleavage before abruptly stopping. Blinking your eyes open at the pause, you look down and see Rafayel’s eyes sadly staring at the front band of your bra that connects the cups. His bottom lip was stuck between his teeth as he hesitantly met your eyes.

Sitting up carefully, your hands reach back to unclasp the garment and you don’t miss the way his eyes lit up at the sight of your now naked chest.

“Are you excited that my bra is off cause of my tits or so you can continue painting?” You tease and wave the dangling bra in front of his face.

He tosses the garment away and it lands helplessly on one of his easels across the room. The blue and pinky irises were now glazed over with something you couldn’t quite catch.

“Both.”

Rafayel moved his palette stand closer to his new position. The veins in his hands flexed as he twirled the brush between his fingers and dipped it back in his colors.

“Ooh,” you shiver slightly as the cold paint bleeds from the paintbrush down your breasts and your nipples start to grow perky. “Can I put on some pasties?”

Rafayel lets out a small snicker at your words. His eyes never leave your body as he continues to paint. His eyes flick to yours and he raises an eyebrow, “Did you really just ask me that?”

Your hands move your hair off your neck and you go to rub your shoulders for warmth but remember the wet paint coating your skin.“Yes, didn’t I buy some when I wore that dress with the open back for your last exhibition? I could’ve sworn I left them here.”

“I threw them out.” Rafayel’s words were quick. Too quick. Not to mention his focus had immediately shifted back to painting your chest. Your boyfriend is not smooth, he just wants to see your boobs.

“Rafayel.” Your tone is playful as you draw out your next words, “I’m cooold.”

Rafayel’s eyes lock onto your hard nipples. His lips parted slightly as a wicked idea filled his brain. Wordlessly, he lowers his head and quickly suctions his lips around the left bud. You moan out in surprise, your hands immediately coming up to entangle into his purple locks. His tongue swirls around the bud, lips squelching against your skin and his teeth lightly graze it.

Rafayel pulls off the swollen bud with a harsh pop and dips his head to latch onto your other nipple. Your body squirms in response with little breathy whimpers leaving your mouth.

After giving the same treatment, he pulls off the other nipple, and a smirk forms on his face. “Warm enough now?”

And just like that, he continues painting, while you try to ignore the wetness forming between your legs.

Oh, this son of a bitch is evil.

Rafayel stretches the artwork down to your naval and his left hand starts to grip your hip. You couldn’t help but continue to squirm and writhe a bit as the soft bristles kiss your skin. Not to mention the now heated sexual tension building up.

You squeeze your legs together in hopes of ignoring the growing heat.

“If you keep moving, I’ll tie you down.” He threatens.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Rafayel is not normally this… bold. The sex you two have- you wouldn’t call it vanilla at all, but usually you’re the one initiating anything freaky so to have him start to tease you like this so nonchalantly is turning you on badly.

“Is that a threat?” You ask.

“That’s a promise.”

Finally, the brush stops at your pants.

“You know the drill,” he says as he tugs at the belt loop of your jeans. His fingers quickly unbutton the front and he gradually pulls them off with your panties.

“Wait, Raf, everything?” A gasp escapes you as you’re now fully bare in front of him. Another shiver runs through your body as his eyes are fixated on your cunt. You’re just hoping he can’t tell how aroused you are. Silence is his only answer. Your jeans are tossed carelessly with the rest of your clothes, but he keeps a hold of the lacy panties in his hand.

“Someone’s a little hot and bothered, isn’t she?” He asks as his thumb brushes over the wet patch on the fabric. Rafayel gives a small chuckle before dropping the panties and kneeling in front of your body.

You go to sit up only for his hand to quickly stop you.

“Stay there, paint isn’t dry yet.”

His voice had gotten a bit raspier it seems, the tone dropping as his eyes started to cloud with desire. You’re able to catch sight of his half-hard cock behind his pants and you exhaled shakily, but obey nonetheless.

Once again, the cold bristles touch your skin, making it even harder to stay still as he trails them down to your hip bones. “R-Raf…”

“Hmm?” His eyes never meet yours, too invested in focusing on finishing his creation so he can ruin the fuck out of it.

And you.

After only hearing silence from you, he finally looks over to meet your needy expression. He knows that look, he practically invented it. Your eyes had shifted to match a puppy’s and your mouth formed a pout as small huffs of air left your parted lips. The same stupid look he gave you earlier when he wanted to start this project. Oh, how it came to bite him in his Lemurian ass.

“Lemme finish up and I’ll fuck you, cutie. I promise.” His now quivering hand goes to continue painting down your thighs and you jerk abruptly as the brush kisses your inner thigh.

When Rafayel looks over, he can see the wetness start to travel down the lips of your pussy, a small puddle staining the furniture underneath you. He feels his cock twitch in his pants and his breath hitches in his throat. His hands hook underneath your thighs and pulls you closer to him before diving in like a hungry shark.

You let out a surprised whine as you feel his tongue slide into your folds and start to lick. Instantly, your leg curls around his neck and he groans into you. His tongue circles around your clit and suctions to it, much like he did to your nipples. Dirty moans leave your lips as small beads of sweat start to accumulate on your forehead.

“Hu-agh!” Your fingers grasp the edges of the ottoman fiercely as you start to slowly grind your hips into his face.

Rafayel slurps at your cunt, the filthy noises filled the once-silent room and his groans send vibrations straight to your core. After one more long suck on your clit, he pulls away, much to your dismay.

Ignoring your whines of protest, he looks at the puffy bundle of nerves and he can feel his cock fully hardening. The golden rays of the setting sun through the windows glow onto Rafayel and you can see your juices coating the lower half of his face.

“Baby, let’s stop painting,” you reach for his hand that rested on your thigh. “Please, I need you.”

Rafayel would love nothing more than to take you right here and now. To smear every piece of furniture in this room with the paint from your body, but he has a better idea in mind. An idea that required him to finish painting you.

“Soon, my love.” He leans over once more to lift your chin and he brings his face closer to yours as he seals your mouths together. You could taste yourself on his lips and you moan into his mouth when he slips his tongue in briefly. He pulls away and ruffles a hand through his hair.

Rafayel tells you to stay sitting up as he works on finishing your thighs and legs.

Soon enough, your front half is covered in paint. His detailed masterpiece swirls down your body and he swears you look so ethereal. Rafayel holds out a hand to help you up and he guides you to one of the floor-length mirrors resting on the wall.

He stands behind you as you take in his work, hands settling on the outside of your hips as he presses your body against his. A soft kiss is placed on your shoulder blade.

You really did look beautiful.

“If you give me at least twenty minutes to do your back, I promise you, my queen, I will worship you.”

A frown appears on your lips in response to his words.

More waiting?

“How would you even paint my back?” You ask since you risk the possibility of smearing or cracking the creation down your front.

“Just stand, okay? I’ll be quick.” Rafayel promises.

Bracing your hands against one of the walls in his studio, your hair was now pulled up, as Rafayel continued to paint your body.

Within only a short time, your back and the rest of your arms were completely painted. Rafayel had already planned out the rest of the piece in his mind while he was eating you out. How to enhance your figure and beauty without taking up too much time. Because, let’s face it- he wanted you, needed you. So, he had decided to go with larger and simpler designs instead of going as small and intricate as he did with your front.

You weren’t squirming as much even though it tickled as he continued lower and he wasn’t stopping as often either, his strokes deliberate and quick. Both of you guys had one goal in mind and you were eager to achieve it.

Rafayel kneeled on the ground, just barely finishing your calves.

Almost there.

Finally.

The last brush stroke was done.

Rafayel slowly got up, placing the paintbrush on the easel where your bra hung from. His hand entertained with yours. Standing in front of the mirror again, he turns you to the side so you can see his creation.

"Wow, Raf, it's beautiful."

Underwater floral patterns flowed gracefully across your body, each vibrant hue—deep blues, soft pinks, and rich greens—complementing your skin tone beautifully. Intricate details danced in the designs, tracing from the curve of your neck down to your ankles, creating a stunning tapestry of the ocean's beauty enveloping you completely.

"I wanted you to take a good look at it before it's totally ruined."

Your eyes flit down to his pants and that's when you notice how hard he is.

With that, he practically drags you to his bedroom.

“Wait,” you stopped halfway through the doorway. “I’ll get paint all over you and the bed. Shouldn’t I go wash up really quick?”

Rafayel scoffs and a smirk crosses his features as he starts to unbutton his shirt. “Cutie, that’s the whole idea.”

He reaches underneath his bed and pulls out a large folded white tarp. Quickly throwing off the pillows and duvet, he placed the tarp on top of the sheets.

You stand there, slowly getting the idea. You watch as he takes off his shirt, slacks, and boxers, tossing them in the corner. His cock was still hard as it curved upwards and the tip grazed his stomach.

Rafayel walks over to you with a new look of determination in his eyes. His hand locks with yours as he leads you to the bed.

“Let’s make art.”

Without waiting for your reaction, he gently pushes you onto the bed and crawls over you. His lips fiercely locked onto yours in a sloppy kiss as you both let out needy whimpers and groans.

Rafayel attaches his lips to your neck and starts to nibble at the sensitive skin. You let out needy whimpers when he hits your sweet spot and you curl your leg around his waist, your deprived pussy needing friction- anything.

His hard cock hits your cunt and you both react with breathy whines. The tarp crinkles and the material squeaks a bit when Rafayel leans down and lowers his head by your throbbing clit once more, his tongue darting out and circling the bundle of nerves. Not holding back anymore, your back arches off the tarp as your moans fill the air.

“Fuck, you taste so good.”

Rafayel's bare arms lock against your legs, keeping them spread as he feasts on you. His tongue trails lower and swirls around the entrance of your eager hole, his whole face practically buried between your folds.

“Augh- right there…” you whisper breathlessly. “N-no, where are you going?”

Your fingers curl into his hair when you feel him start to pull away. He hovers over you again and places his hands beside your head. His lips find yours and he starts to rut himself against your cunt.

“F-fuck.” Rafayel whimpers against you and lets out a long hum. He becomes annoyed at the thought of ending so soon when you two just barely started. “I wanted to savor this moment, but baby, I can’t. I need you. Please.”

He pulls back slightly, the intensity of his dark, smoldering eyes locking onto yours with a passion that ignites a fire deep within. They seem to plead silently, urging you to utter the words that linger on the tip of your tongue, a promise of unspoken desires hanging in the air between you.

“Please, Raf, don’t make me wait.”

His hand trails down between your naked bodies and grasps his aching cock. He slides it up your folds, coating it in your wetness before slowly sliding in.

You both moan in unison as your gummy walls envelop his cock. Rafayel’s face is buried in your neck, as one hand holds up his weight and the other tangles in your hair.

He starts to thrust in and out, and your toes start to curl. The room becomes heated fast as the sinful sounds of skin slapping mix with filthy moans.

“Mm, fuck, you feel… so good.” He pants in your ear and his tongue darts out to lick the shell of your ear. “My beautiful muse.”

His words help tighten the knot in your lower tummy with your cries become louder with every thrust as you desperately try to chase your release.

Sloppy kisses are placed along your face and his moans become ragged groans as he too is close to cumming.

“I— augh!.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too.”

Words are really hard right now. Your mind was too cock drunk to even think straight. Rafayel lets out a choked noise and his thrusts start to falter slightly.

Dazed, your hand brings his face in front of you so you can see his pretty eyes. “F-finish with me.” Though your words are slurred and lazy, he understands completely.

His hips thrust even deeper into your hole as his body starts to shake. Your orgasm washes over you and you cry out, muscles tensing.

Before you can even recover, Rafayel pulls out of you, emitting a small noise at your sensitive walls. He roughly grabs your hips and turns you over on your stomach. The sweat on your body smears the once beautiful artwork covering your skin. The tarp shifts at the movement.

“One more, cutie, please,” Rafayel bends over your form and places another tender kiss behind your ear. “Can you do one more for me?”

You nod tiredly and he picks up your legs and spreads them once more. His fingers are placed in front of your mouth and you close your lips around them. Your tongue swirls around his digits for a good few seconds before he pulls them out.

“Good girl.”

You let out another breathy moan when his hand reaches down to finger your already stretched-out hole, ensuring you’re wet enough for another round. His long fingers are buried deep within you and your sore hips push back to rut against them.

When Rafayel pulls his hand away, there’s a long strand of cum connected to his fingers. He takes them in his mouth, humming in satisfaction at the taste.

It’s slippery when his cock finds its way to your slit again. With a slow push, he enters you again and bottoms out.

His thrusts are sloppier this time as he lays on top of you in the prone bone position. Your mind is hazy and blurred from pleasure and borderline overstimulation. The way his vulgar words are quietly whispered in your ear as if he wants to ensure you those words are for you and only you.

“You like it when I top, huh?” His words are a bit broken as small gasps and grunts are caught in between. His hand brushes away the hair sticking to your forehead from sweat and he places a tender kiss to your temple, while his other reaches under your stomach, forcing you to arch your hips.

“Mhm!”

Rafayel’s fingers find your clit once again, a broken cry escaping you in the process. The familiar coil in your tummy appeared again as your second orgasm of the evening was quickly approaching.

Loud whimpers started to leave Rafayel as well and he whines at his own orgasm building up.

“T-together, my love?”

That’s all it took to send you over the finish line. Both of you cry out in ecstasy as you finish together.

You can feel his hips stutter from his release, but Rafayel quickly pulls out before he can cum inside you a second time. Rafayel watches in a euphoric bliss as his cum shoots out all over your back in spurts before lazily trailing down your ass. The colors he had painted on you earlier were heavily faded, smeared, and now mixed with his white seed.

A content sigh escapes him as he rolls off of you and gathers you into his arms. Rafayel places loving kisses over your sweaty forehead and hair. Your fatigue quickly caught up to you and you felt like a limp noodle in his arms.

“Do you want me to start cleaning you up or would you rather lay down for a while?” He asks as he grabs a small rag sitting on the nightstand and starts to wipe the cum and sweat off your body.

"Can we just stay for a moment?" Your hand finds his resting on top of your hip, and you lock your fingers together.

"Of course, I'll start the bath in a few minutes." Rafayel brings your locked hands to his lips and kisses the back of your hand. "I love you, my muse."

----------

Bonus:

"So like... now what?"

The next morning, after freshening up, Rafayel laid the fully dried tarp against the bed. His lips were pursed and his arms crossed as he studied the tarp covered in paint.

The once-pristine white tarp had transformed into a chaotic canvas, splattered with vibrant paint that danced across its surface. The delicate designs he had painstakingly created were completely obscured, lost beneath the bold colors. Only a few faint handprints and the rough outlines of your limbs remained, turning the simple canvas into a wild abstract masterpiece.

The glass of cold-brew coffee in your hands jingles and Rafayel turns to you.

"What do you mean 'now what'?"

"I mean do we throw it out now? Or fold it up maybe?"

"We can't throw it out! This is art, this is our love, this is-"

"Porn."

[rekino2114]

Could we get something with chara for the valentine's day event. I was thinking either 8, 9 or 10 you decide. We need more content for her

Chara valentine's day prompts

Pairing:female chara dreemur x gn reader

A/n:I decided to use a different writing style than usual since I thought it fit better with the prompts

Prompts list

Prompt#9: giving her a hersey's kiss instead of a real one

Y/n:Hey Chara do you want a kiss?

Chara:no

Y/n:what? You always say you love them

Chara:Always is an exaggeration, I can't say I hate them but I don't need one every hour

Y/n:come on pretty please, just a small one

Chara:you're gonna bother me until I say yes aren't you?

Y/n:probably

Chara:[sighs] fine I guess your kisses are nice

Y/n:I knew you liked them!

Chara:whatever

Y/n:Close your eyes first

Chara:why? That's weird

Y/n:no its more romantic

Chara:you better not do something weird

Y/n:don't worry I think you'll quite like it

[Chara sighs again but closes her eyes and opens her mouth, waiting for your kiss]

Chara:come on hurry up

[You take the chocolate out of your pocket and put it in chara's mouth. She's surprised at first, but as soon as she recognizes the sweet taste, she starts chewing it with a smile on her face]

Y/n:so did you like that?

Chara:Yeah.....but what about the kiss

Y/n:That was it, I gave you a hersey's kiss, it's a type of chocolate

Chara:oh...........ok

Y/n:did you want one that bad~?

Chara:when you told me you were gonna give me a kiss I expected a kiss

Y/n:well I did give you one

Chara:fine, if you wanna play it like this then I'm gonna get the kiss myself

Y/n:what do you-

[Suddenly, chara takes you by the collar of your shirt and kisses you passionately on the lips]

Y/n:........wow

Chara:now that was a real kiss

Y/n:Do you....want more kisses

Chara:Yeah

Y/n:which ones?

Chara:both, I love both.....but I guess yours are a bit better

Y/n:[giggle]:I'm glad you love me more than chocolate

Chara:obviously, would I kill someone for chocolate?

Y/n:yes actually, you very much would

Chara:come on, I'm better than that

Y/n:if you say so........wait were you implying you'd kill someone for me

Chara:did I stutter?

Prompt#8:feeding chocolate covered strawberries to each other

[Chara walks over to you eating a chocolate bar looking angry]

Chara:hey y/n, what happened to the chocolate bars in the fridge

Y/n:what do you mean? They're still there

Chara:no I brought 8, like 3 of them are gone

Y/n:......you eat way too much chocolate

Chara:just answer my question

Y/n:I melted it and made chocolate fondue

Chara:......what's that?

Y/n:Are you serious? You're obsessed with chocolate and don't know what chocolate fondue is?

Chara:I'm allowed to not know stuff, but I'm curious now what is it?

Y/n:it's just melted chocolate that you put in a bowl and dip stuff in

Chara:that actually sounds pretty good, can I have some

Y/n:yeah sure, I made it for us anyway

[You take a strawberry,dip it in the fondue and hold it over her mouth]

Y/n:People usually do it with strawberries, so here you go

Chara:I can eat it myself

Y/n:but i made it for valentine's day, it's more romantic like this

Chara:......you are so lucky I love you and chocolate

[She eats the strawberry and hums in happiness as her eyes sparkle]

Chara:wow that's good and I don't even like strawberries normally

Y/n:yeah, you'd probably eat a shoe if it was covered in chocolate

Chara:no seriously try it

[Chara dips a strawberry in the chocolate and shoves it in your mouth]

Y/n:....oh yeah, that is really good

Chara:see?

Y/n:i could have done without the force feeding though

Chara:I thought you said it was romantic

Y/n:You shoved it in my mouth how is that romantic?

Chara:whatever

[Chara looks at the fondue and the chocolate bar in her hands with determination in her eyes]

Chara:what do you think would happen if I dipped the chocolate bar into chocolate?

Y/n:diabetes, I think you'd get diabetes

Chara:.........worth it

Y/n:WAIT CHARA NO!

[nexiva]

You made me hate you

Part 4

Bucky x reader

Warnings: ok now they really hate each other, really angsty part and a lot of swearing (again)

Summary: A not so nice morning in the kitchen with Sam and Bucky

A/N: I couldn’t wait any longer haha so enjoy this part :)

Masterlist

Five months. Five months of avoiding each other like the plague. And when we do run into each other? Jesus Christ, even Captain America himself would bolt from the room.

Barnes has gotten a little more… how do I put it? Confident. In the wrong way. About three months ago, he was still trying to talk to me, still trying to convince me—just like everyone else. But I wouldn’t give in. I would never forgive him. Maybe after all this time, it seems childish, but I didn’t care. I stood firmly on my ground.

And once everyone realized I wasn’t going to change my mind, that’s when things started heating up. Barnes was starting to get so cocky. The worse my remarks got, the more he started snapping back at me. I could see I was driving him insane—not that it was my intention. I just didn’t want to see him. But since he was already there, I couldn’t stop myself from throwing sharp comments his way. Until, finally, he had enough and started fighting back.

“Fuck, Sam, I swear I tried everything. But she wouldn’t even let me get a word in. I’m so done with this. Guess some amends just can’t be made.”

I walked into the kitchen with every intention of ignoring Barnes and making myself a great breakfast.
“Morning, Wilson.”
“Hey, Y/L/N.”

I could tell Sam was uncomfortable, but that didn’t stop him from asking a stupid question.
“So, Bucky and I were about to go for a run. Do you wanna join us?”

Oh God. Pathetic.

Barnes practically choked on his coffee, barely stopping himself from suffocating (what a shame that would be).

“If I were you, I wouldn’t let him outside. He might ‘accidentally’ run over someone and then claim he was forced to do it.”

Oh, I knew that one was going to hurt. But it rolled off my tongue so sweetly that I couldn’t stop myself.

Barnes threw his cup against the wall. Sam flinched slightly.

“You are a cunt, you know that?”

Bucky stepped closer like he was about to throw hands. I got up immediately.

“What? You gonna kill me too now? Finally finish collecting the whole family, asshole?”

And he just stared.

Nothingness in his eyes.

I wanted it to hurt. I wanted him to feel exactly the way I did. But strangely, there was no satisfaction in seeing him suffer. It wasn’t as enjoyable as I had imagined. So much time had passed, my rage had only grown, and yet… I couldn’t put a name to that stupid feeling inside me. Oh no, it definitely wasn’t sympathy or guilt—it was just exhausting.

For the first time, I saw something in his eyes. Fear?

I didn’t care to figure it out. Not at that moment.

“Fuck you,” was all he said before leaving the kitchen.

I sat down with a small smirk but also with a hint of uncertainty (hopefully, it didn’t show).

“Um, so that went well?”

Sam, not knowing what else to do, sat down with me.

“Y/N, aren’t you tired of this?”

The bastard could actually read my mind sometimes.

“Despite everything, you two have a lot in common. He was under HYDRA, you had NEXUS. You really should—”

I couldn’t listen to him any longer.

“Despite everything? You mean the fact that he killed my sister? And HYDRA? NEXUS? We have nothing in common. I never killed anyone for someone else. No one ever controlled me like some brainless puppet!”

“Because Fury saved you! You little brat! You think you wouldn’t have done the same as him if Nick hadn’t stepped in?”

Silence.

A long, awkward silence.

I had no idea how to respond. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to admit he was right—even if he was.

“I wonder if you’d say the same thing about him if Fury hadn’t shown up back then. You need to get it together, Y/N, because everyone is tired of your shit.”

Sam stood up, looked at me, and walked out.

I couldn’t admit he was right. I couldn’t get rid of the fog in my head. That horrible memory.

I refused to back down.

The kitchen felt emptier than before.

Sam’s words hung in the air like a goddamn storm cloud, suffocating me, pressing against my chest. "Everyone is tired of your shit."

I clenched my fists. Fuck him. Fuck them all. They didn’t get it. They weren’t the ones who had to wake up every morning and remember that someone ripped their soul apart like it was nothing. They weren’t the ones who had to stand in the same room as the murderer and pretend like he was just another member of the goddamn team.

I grabbed a piece of toast and took a slow bite, staring at the shattered ceramic from Bucky’s cup still lying on the floor. Someone else could clean it up. I wasn’t going to.

The compound was quiet now, except for the faint hum of the fridge and the distant sound of traffic outside. I let myself breathe. But my hands were still shaking.

Then I heard it—the door slamming shut.

I exhaled through my nose, already knowing who it was.

“What the fuck do you want now, Barnes?”

Silence.

I turned my head slightly, and there he was, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, jaw tight. He looked like he hadn’t cooled down one bit since storming out of here a few minutes ago.

“I’m not done talking.”

I let out a dry laugh. “That’s funny, I could’ve sworn you told Sam you were done trying.”

His nostrils flared. Good. I wanted him angry. I wanted him to feel something.

He took a step forward. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Y/N.”

I shot him a look. “Oh, I don’t? Enlighten me. Please.”

His eyes darkened. “You think you’re the only one who lost someone? You think you’re the only one who wakes up every day hating the person in the mirror?”

That caught me off guard. For a second. But I didn’t let it show.

“The difference between us, Winter Soldier?” I stood up, stepping closer until there were just inches between us. “I lost my family. You were the one pulling the goddamn trigger.”

He swallowed hard. I saw his fingers twitch—just slightly. Like he wanted to punch a hole in the wall. Or grab something. Maybe grab me.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he let out a bitter chuckle and looked down.

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice was lower now. Tighter. “Every goddamn day, I think about the people I killed. I hear them screaming in my fucking head. And you?” He shook his head, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “You don’t even want revenge anymore. You just want something to be angry at.”

I stiffened.

He saw it. He fucking saw it, and I hated him for it.

“Go to hell, Barnes.”

His lips curled into a humorless smirk. “Already been there, sweetheart.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and left, leaving me standing there, fists clenched, pulse racing, and for the first time in a long time—completely speechless.

[echoric]

trans iceman who is scared of needles so he asks the others to do his t shot for him

this is so canon in my trans iceman truthing heart </3

Goose knew first - he met Iceman in the Academy and with his Mother Goose tendencies, he was the first person to get under that ice cold exterior that Kazansky always put up. He noticed how Ice would never change in front of the others, how he always showered last and was the first to the locker rooms in the morning, already in PT gear and warming up before anyone else even showed up. There was one day when he woke up early, couldn't get back to sleep, and decided to go to the locker room to get an easy warm up in before PT would start - and he promptly had a shoe thrown at his head while Ice scrambled for his shirt. They had a talk, Goose was sworn to secrecy, and a few weeks later, Iceman appeared at his door with a vial and a question and Goose was more than willing to help.

Slider was second - he met Iceman fresh out of the Academy, but he had known about the infamous pilot for years before that thanks to Goose. He knew about the prickly exterior and the walls that would take patience to get through, but he wasn't put off by the glares and the icy attitude. They flew together, and slowly, that icy persona started to melt and Slider saw Tom peeking through. It was only a matter of time before they changed in front of each other, they bunked together after all. Ice told him to close his eyes, and he did - just thinking it was another one of the pilot's quirks - but when Ice told him to open his eyes again, the first thing he saw were the large twin scars on his chest. And Slider might've freaked out because he had no idea what they were, but once Ice explained, he held his hand out for the vial before Ice could even ask - he'd been through enough medical check ups after flights and missions to know that the man hated needles.

Hollywood and Wolfman were the next to learn - entirely by accident. They were messing around in the locker room at Top Gun after a hop because they were the first two back after getting shot down in almost record time, just throwing shit at each other and trying to smack the other with their towel. Ice and Slider are the next to in, both looking pissed and ready to kill - and Hollywood and Wolfman exchanged a single look before calming down their chatter. Ice opened his locker with more force than normal, and something fell out onto the ground and rolled over to Hollywood's foot. He tried to pick it up, but Slider was darting forward to grab it before he could, and Hollywood makes a face - "Dude, steroids are so bad for your heart, you're going to kill your career." Slider is about to tell him off when Ice stops him with a nervous glance, and Hollywood and Wolfman are added to the roster of people more than willing to help Ice with his monthly injection.

Sundown and Chipper never learn outright - but they have their suspicions. When a drunk Slider gets into a bar fight bad enough that the civilian ended up in a hospital bed and Ice ended up bailing Slider out of jail, there was a quiet understanding throughout the entire group. Some drunk prick making a snide comment about Ice's appearance was enough to set all of them on the defensive. Sundown and Chipper might not have known why, but they had their brother's back regardless. They noticed after that incident, Ice seemed to lower his guard a bit more around them.

Maverick was the last to know - and it was completely intentional. In fact, Ice was willing and hoping to go to his grave without Maverick knowing. The only reason he ended up learning was when Ice finally cracked and slammed him against the wall of their shared bunk room on a carrier. It was all heat and passion and years of built up tension crashing down at once around them, and it took only a few seconds for Maverick to rip Ice's shirt off - and then there was an icy chill colder than the Arctic ocean washing over Ice as he saw Maverick's eyes catch on the scars. Ice was ready to get told off, to get thrown out of their room, and dishonorably discharged from the Navy after so many years of careful work to purge any F from his files. But Maverick's hands were burning hot against the scars, tracing them with a concern and care that Ice had never felt before. They said the bare minimum amount of words so Maverick understood the situation, and then they didn't leave their bunk room until they were almost late for breakfast. None of the others commented on how they both carefully adjusted the collars of the flight suit - but money was definitely passed between hands.

[pigeonentity]

i keep thinking about them in terms of for and against each other: thirteen's against, twelve's for, eleven i think would be against, ten's for, and i haven't watched anything before him (yeah ikk im getting to it soon. watched it w my parents the first time so its on them) so i can't speak beyond that. dhawan's against, missy's for, and simm's against. like they've all got at least a little of both but they have a general direction

twissy worked out because they both cared about each other. missy came to help the doctor when he thought he was going to die, the doctor... locked her up, but he did have good intentions. i dont think we can say spydoc worked out, but i think since they both hated each other it went smoother than it could have. and tensimm was fucking doomed (neither of them want the same thing. they want each other to be different people)

twelvesimm, which was overshadowed by twissy but still deserves a mention, i think is similar to tensimm but with time could have had a higher chance of success, since 12, i think, might have responded more to him rather than trying to push him into someone who wanted to be better. tbh it might depend on the doctor's mood that day, im a little uncertain about this one but at the very least its a vaguely more functional tensimm

thrissy would break me. thrissy would be the anti-tensimm. missy shows up, still an enemy but also always, willingly and knowingly, a friend, and this time it's the doctor who says no. who tells her to fuck off, less distrust than expected and more loathing. they fight until missy realises it's not their usual games, and the doctor's gone too far stopping her. i mean come on her master tried to have her and her companions killed but it's not like he actually did it-- but she turned him over to the fucking nazis before she even knew he destroyed gallifrey, and missy killed osgood just after the doctor offered to have her as a companion, how would 13 take that?

11missy (elmissy? elemissy? mileven? no.) would run similarly, but if we're going with her using her same plan that she used on 12... he would take the army. he would take the army, however little he trusted her. i can see it going a few ways-- she leaves or he kills her or he locks her up somewhere because he's the doctor and she's the master and that's what he does, she comes back and suggests conquering the universe together or something, he says no and they fight, he says yes because he excuses murder if it aligns with what he wants, or if he likes the person enough (look at who he married!!) and they murder across the universe and we have canon thoschei until a companion saves the universe from them or river gets jealous

11dhawan would be AMAZING they have VERY similar energy and it would be SO much fun but also-- parallels? you could do so many little parallels with that? we see them spin the same way at the same time and they hate each other but one comments on something walking down a hallway and the other comes by and says the same thing and ughhh who do i pay to make this happen??

12dhawan has a special place in my hearts and i cant completely say why i just need them to meet. i need to be there when the master shows the doctor the timeless child and he cant accept it. idk if he'd be able to go the "there's more of me!" way out that 13 did, but he might be able to half do it, in that he realises he can overload the system but they break out of there through spite. i need to be there when the doctor says that ofc burning gallifrey is wrong, but he sides with the master. they lied to us. they lied to both of us. i need to see the master's anger, because he's being forgiven again. but he's not forgiving him, it's more that he understands, or like what he said to clara-- do you really think i care for you so little that betraying me could make a difference?-- and the master doesn't know what to do with that. he is so close to being better. but he doesn't want to be. so he burns himself up

10missy would work BUT i think 10 might take the army and theyd be less functional than twissy

I FORGOT THE ONES AFTER 13 skipping 14 bc he blurs into 10 for me even though they're different, but 15 would be for and he and missy would both hurtle into "this is MY queer friends to enemies to whatever the fuck we are and i can be as weird and dramatic about it as i like" not only are they both for but they're both on the exact same level as to what their relationship is and they're so fucking weird about it it's brilliant. varies a bit depending on who missy kills but i think there's a lot of chaotic potential there

but also if the master starts being too dramatic he would just tell them to shut up. which would also be brilliant

ANYWAY if anybody writes about any of these versions PLEASE tag me i need to read about them. pigeonentity on here and ao3. please

to me thoschei is one of those dress up games where i get to mix and match different items of clothing (versions of the doctor and the master) to create stunning outfits (tragic relationship dynamics)

[atzluvz]

Through blood and petals

Series masterlist

A/N: As previously stated this is my first ff ! All opinions and feedback is appreciated :)

Pairing : Mafia!San x reader (not written in this chapter though)

Warnings : angst, san gets traumatized, major character death (it all works out in the end tho i promise) , san is in the mafia n highkey a serial killer...

Word count: 1.3K

Series Summary : San let his guard down once, and it cost him everything. Now, he’s built his walls higher than ever.Living with the weight of his past. But when a kind hearted florist enters his life, his carefully guarded world starts to crack. He swears he won’t make the same mistake twice; but some things are impossible to resist.

Chapter 1: No surprises

“A heart that's full up like a landfill. A job that slowly kills you, bruises that won't heal.”

San didn’t really like his career, and not the typical “I hate my job, aarrgghh!!!” kind of complaints. He genuinely despised it. And not that he could back out, oh no. Everyone knew once you joined the mafia, the only way out was in a casket. Maybe that’s why he learned to dissociate during work, leaving all his feelings and emotions behind in his cozy, luxurious penthouse. But what did that make him? A killer without emotions? A machine? No, that’s what made him the perfect asset to the Velvet Dagger Cartel: fast, effective kills with no attachment to his victims. San was there to do his job and make the evidence disappear like it never even happened. Each life he took was like checking off another item on his checklist. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw his targets as real people. That was, until he met her.

She was supposed to be like the rest, just another civilian to help expand their territory. But when San got his mission folder, something didn’t sit right. They never gave him undercover roles, let alone for a ridiculous three months. He was supposed to intern at the bakery where she worked, learn her schedule, poison her, and check her off the list. Simple. Clean. Efficient. But for some reason, everything about this felt wrong.

At first it was nothing. Just brief glances as she served pastries with a smile that was too warm for his liking, too much emotion, too much vulnerability. But as the hours merged into days, her laughter echoed in his mind when his shift was long over. How her voice would greet every customer with a level of kindness he doubted existed in this world, it started to tear him down. She was just a mission, nothing more.

But she had this refreshing feeling to her. She was nothing like the cold, calculating people he was used to. She had this aura that made everything feel softer. She’d talk about her dreams of opening a bakery, how she wanted to make the world a little sweeter, one pastry at a time. She shared stories of her childhood, how it was only her and her mom, but they managed. It was bittersuite she said, a loss of something to earn something else. Every detail about her life was wrapped in warmth, like the oven’s heat that surrounded the bakery. And the more San watched her, the more he saw her as something other than a target. She became a person, a real, breathing, beautiful person.

And suddenly it happened. He couldn't tell when the information he was supposed to extract turned into real interest. How he’d linger in the kitchen for too long, asking questions about ingredients or recipes, only to watch how her eyes lit up when she explained. Every smile she gave him felt like a small crack in the cold walls he’d built around himself. Not like she was blind to it, and he knew, they both knew the feeling between them wasn't platonic. Slowly the meetings discussing the bakeries turned into dates at a nearby cafe. And in those moments, san forgot all about his job. He was just … him. And she was just her. The more he fell for her, the harder it was for him to remember his purpose.

So, when the poison arrived, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Even after he learnt everything he was supposed to know. The way she would come in at 8:00 every morning and leave at 5:30 with a cinnamon roll in her hand every time, always with a smile. That stupid smile, the one that made him melt. She didn't deserve to die. She didn't deserve to become yet another name on his stupid list. But the mafia isn't forgiving. They wanted her gone, and so he had to make her disappear. But he couldn't. He wouldn't.

San arrived home later than usual that night, the weight of his mission plaguing his mind. He had made up his mind. He would end it. He would walk away. He’d tell her everything, run away with her, leave it all behind. But the moment he walked through the door, the air was thick with something unfamiliar. The faint scent of roses. Her scent.

He froze in the doorway, his breath catching in his throat as he saw her.Her body was sprawled out in the middle of the living room. Her once vibrant eyes were open but lifeless, staring blankly ahead. A trail of blood pooled beneath her, the color stark against his white rugs. The delicate flowers she’d worn earlier were crushed under her body, petals scattered like remains of a dream that had never had a chance to bloom. She was gone. And it was all his fault.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. Trying to memorize every detail, the way her hair framed her face, the soft curve of her lips, the faintest trace of a smile she’d given him just hours before, as if she had known nothing was wrong. But in her delicate hands, the ones that once held him so softly, was a piece of paper. Marked with a dagger. He recognized it all too well. The letters he once placed himself, now in the hands of the love of his life.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it. He couldn’t bear to face whoever was on the other end. He knew what they wanted. He knew what they would say. But then, it rang again. And this time, he answered it. “Did you think you could walk away, San?” The voice was cold, laced with amusement. “You let us down. We thought you were better than this. But you lowered your guard” he heard a spine chilling chuckle from the other side “ Your just like the rest of us. Disposable.” San’s grip tightened around the phone. His eyes never left her body. “You took her from me,” he said, his voice barely controlled. “You’ll pay for that.”

The rage inside him was a wildfire. He wasn’t the cold, emotionless machine anymore. She had turned him into something different. Something human. Without thinking, he grabbed his gun from the table and left the penthouse. Moving like a predator hunting down its prey. He made his way to the headquarters, each step fueled by the image of her lifeless face, her broken body. He didn’t care how many lives he had to take. He didn’t care who stood in his way. They wouldn't be able to stop him anyway. He cocked his gun before kicking the door in….

The heavy air in the room felt like it was pressing down on him. San stood in the doorway, the faintest tremor in his hand as he wiped a smear of blood from his collar. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the sound of his boots scraping the floor as he stepped forward. His gaze swept across the room, lingering on the men who had once called him a brother, now sprawled motionless, their expressions forever frozen.

Chapter 1.5 : Fourth of july OUT NOW!!

[vampworks]

Playing games you can't win

Pairing: Caleb x Reader

w/c: 1.1K

A/n: me and that chip have beef, also Caleb and dog coded love has me like charlie day at that red string board.

Summary:After three week of Caleb trying to win you over, you finally have enough. He quickly finds that he can't handle it.

Warning: Toxic love, pipspeak as a pet name, mourning, intimacy, angst, Caleb gets very little comfort

The push and pull was far too much. The heat was far too much. For three weeks, the two of you had been 'playing house' in Caleb's sad condo above the city. Your mission was long since ruined by the colonel, so your days were spent watching Wontony float around. You'd ask the poor robot questions about a man it seemed you both had just met.

'The Colonel was a cold, calculating shell of a man you couldn't stand. All attempts to draw a reaction were pointless. A cup thrown and shattered at his chest. His response? Nothing but an empty grin and tease. Caleb on the other hand, was all heat. He is just as touchy as he was when you were kids if not more. When he did appear, he'd test how far you would let him. His large hands carefully tread down your shoulders only to rest above the small of your waist. He stops completely, staring into your eyes and searching (Pleading) for approval. It hasn't come.

The once-narrowed eyes completely softened leaving behind a starved dog begging for anything akin to touch. You could have called him pathetic at the sight of him on his knees; hell, he sure does. The two of you were so close. Caleb was practically vibrating while pawing you in every place he could. Lilac eyes traced the curve of your jaw and neck as if you'd break if he lost even a moment of control. The epitome of every slow-burn romance you had forced him to see growing up. Each of those followed the same pattern. He studied each one just as closely as planes or bugs in the backyard.

meet-cute

build-up

some kind of misunderstanding breaking the progression and the two separate

The problem is resolved, and the music swells.

The big kiss

pg-13 rated makeout scene

and they ride off into the sunset

He had tried so hard to follow the plan. Maybe then you fall for him like he had from the start. Nothing about this "resurrection" has gone right so far, so here we are back at the starting line every time Caleb falls to catch himself. Far too much Far too soon

So he'll wait for you to make the first move. He'll wait like he always has, but now it kills him to know you're finally seeing him as the crazed man he is. No more hiding, no more wishing from afar.

Now is the time to call in reinforcements, so movie night it is. Don't ask how long it took to organize a full weekend off, but for you, it was more than worth it.

'10 things I hate about you' is on the screen before you both. The smell of braised chicken was still in the air from dinner as Caleb slowly inches his way to your side of the couch. By the time Heath Ledger sings on the bleachers, his left arm slowly comes to rest on the back of the couch. behind your head. After bickering over whether Cruel Intentions or Pretty Woman should be next, somehow your legs just fell into his lap. Oh no, guess you'll just have to leave them there because' the movie is starting. It seems 'Cruel Intentions' won while you aren't looking.

you were so focused on his dorky grin and teasing that he won again with his evol. The man chokes down a snort as the title card plays, but you only glare and huff. It's a small thing, but it only sets him back further behind as the memory of him holding your legs down with it comes crawling back up. Seeing red, you storm off. Sure, you're a sore loser, but dear God, can you have one night without feeling weak compared to him? Without the thought of the colonel.

He follows you throughout the apartment with a racing heart. He begs for another chance for you to just see things his way. His words go in one ear and out the other as you pack your things, practically shoving them back into your luggage. He stops you in the doorway, falling to his knees. "Please, let me fix this. I love you more than you could ever know. All of this has been for you." Large trembling fingers grasp around your legs, his head pressed into your waist. "Let go, Caleb." You muttered through gritted teeth. You couldn't play this game anymore. You weren't the kid he left behind, and he was the boy you had spent a year mourning. He only held tighter. "You don't understand, pip. I just got you back. How in the hell am I suppose' to live without you again?" He barked. You scoffed. "That's the thing. You can't fathom the idea of me gone, but I had to bury you. That's why I will always win this little game,huh?" You lift his head with your fingers beneath his chin. He lets out something like a whine. A new dark thought now surfaced: you'd give him exactly what he wanted from the start. You'd be his while you held his leash.

You bend down to kiss him. It's rough and heated. Nothing like those movies before. A disgusting mess of teeth clashing and you biting his lip till it bleeds. Neither of you pulled away for air, now in a game of who would own the other and who was a coward. Caleb seems to break as tears threaten to fall down the apple of his cheeks. Every voice in his head screams out to grab you and never let go, but he doesn't. He told you that any pain you gave him was a gift to be cherished, and this was no different.

Soon enough, the man is a mess, gazing back up at you as you pull away. "Breathe, Caleb. I love you too." Your voice is sickeningly sweet as your hands find purchase in his hair, soothing him. "Bye~." The door slams,

A second later, you're gone down the hall, bring up a finger to swipe away the blood.

There's a gaping hole in my chest. A you-sized hole that aches and calls out to be filled. For years I watched over you as a dog guarding its flock. My teeth and claws protected you from the wolves all around but I was just as hungry as them. I longed for your taste as I kissed your wounds. I dreamt of your touch as you hugged me. My eyes are tearing into your flesh just as they would. I am no better, but maybe You have always known this and loved me anyway. Maybe your love will absolve my sins.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY NEVE GALLUS - PARTY BANTER *  assorted banter from dragon age: the veilguard

we're under fire! look out!

i've got you covered.

that's one way to handle it!

we're getting somewhere!

might want to stay quiet.

well, isn't that a treat?

i'll take your word for it.

you helped me as much as i helped you.

do i want to know where this is going?

what do you need?

guess i'm still stunned.

it's easier to hide.

a stake out's easier in the dark.

does it bother you?

it'll be just like old times.

you ran into him?

he was the meanest pie maker i ever met.

what was it doing in the middle of a crowded market?

where's the truth start and the rest begin?

that's how the whole job started.

i heard you and [name] arguing.

sounded like you were ready to kill each other.

i get why you're worried about [name].

we need both sides of the coin to have a shot at this.

the place has quite the atmosphere.

i heard it from a friend of a friend's cousin.

fair enough.

they seem like the types to enjoy a spooky story or two.

is fighting monsters about the hunt or about the victory?

you've got a funny idea of fun.

are we going to sell flowers?

guilt comes out in funny ways.

you hear something different?

you know [name]. probably sprained an ankle.

you want to know if i've tried it myself.

you keep things quiet.

he walked into my office.

there's a case. i've got a lead.

i'm not sure yet, but i'll get back to you.

you don't need magic for that.

i'm connected. whether it's well connected depends on who you ask.

i probably know someone.

that step's a formality.

someone's always willing to take a chance.

who's going to stop it?

you wonder why i'm busy.

someone's been visiting the fancy part of town.

i'm a sucker, that's all.

right, should have guessed.

you've done well for yourself since.

i wasn't trying to pry before about where you came from.

i just notice things.

might even get some sleep tonight!

for that, i'm sorry.

you'll give it your best shot.

i'll take your word for it.

you think they'll come through?

are you getting used to your new abilities?

you're getting the hang of those powers.

this should be interesting.

i watch everyone.

we don't know that.

we'll manage something. might even make it out alive.

that would make sense.

if you ask the question, maybe i can answer it.

are you mad at me for something i did in a dream?

you know him better than i do.

i'd hate for assassins to find me predictable.

don't flatter yourself too much.

i don't trust anyone on first meeting and i keep an eye on everything.

you're just so serious.

it wasn't personal.

does this mean you trust me less?

you don't have to.

find me at midnight and we'll test the theory.

it was your call to make.

i might have a weakness for seafood and candlelight.

we have our moments.

my work leads me to strange places.

you're not bad to work with.

thanks for noticing. not everyone does.

isn't this exciting?

you've got me there.

i've got the feeling i've missed something.