#they weren't exactly like the picture if anything they were worse

[brainscrewz]

this was my every day cartoon character outfit in high school and i think my own personal hell would be wearing this fit again

[radiance1]

Witch au but Sam looks far too much like Martha Wayne than a lot of people are comfortable with.

I hear you ask, "but Sam is younger than her in this au" and I tell you that Martha Wayne had the genetic trait of looking younger than she actually was, a trait that was in her family for generations.

Thus, we have Sam who resembles Martha Wayne far too much, the philosopher's stone that makes her immortal, and a genetic trait that has Martha looking younger than she actually is and you get misunderstandings.

So, Sam was just minding her business trying to figure out what exactly for her castle to be anywhere that wasn't Amity Park when someone stepped onto her property and, getting a feel for them she realized that they don't seem to be magical in nature.

Also, scratch that, it was more than one person.

So, she decided to give them a... 'warm' welcome.

A group of people who believed in the supernatural decided to get together one day to explore the castle that spawned randomly one day in Gotham for shits and giggles. So there they were, stepping through the fog, barely able to see the ground let alone each other.

They had to solve a puzzle for the door to the castle to open in those conditions, which was weird but it was also the fun kind of weird so they weren't complaining about it. When they opened the door it was very dark, which made them second guess themselves for a second and then they decided to step in anyway.

They live in Gotham what's the chances of this castle being worse than what they go through weekly?

The door slammed shut behind them as soon as the last person stepped inside, leaving them in total darkness for a moment before candles lit themselves up and they saw the inside of the castle in its full glory.

It looked, very, very beautiful.

So beautiful in fact, that they almost missed the woman stood at the top of the stairs. She looked very, very beautiful and was wearing a dress that looked very expensive (think Blue Diamond from Steven Universe but black) with a red gem right in the middle of her chest.

The lady welcomed them into her castle, and suddenly they found their vision going back as the woman's sinister chuckle echoed all around them and they found themselves in separate rooms of the house.

Fun fact, this group of people were also streamers and streaming everything up to the point of Sam's entrance and then her magicking them all in different rooms. They also had a pretty good following, so safe to say the chats were going crazy over what just happened.

So, the various live streamers investigate the castle to find a way to escape before their assumed death, they solve various puzzles both with their own wit and the help of their chat that were magical in nature. The various puzzles and traps were, genuinely, very fun to solve, both for the chat and the streamers doing them.

All the streamers manage to meet up again, and boy are they genuinely thankful for the fact that-so far at least, this doesn't seem to actually be anything life threatening and just seemed to be a grand time all around.

Then they all headed down a hall together, and the chat just went absolutely ballistic when they saw a large portrait of the witch and another man standing together and smiling.

The chat never got a good look at her before the streamers got teleported to different rooms, but that painting?

It changed everything.

Because the woman standing in that picture-as pointed out by a chat member, looked an awful lot like Martha Wayne, and the man standing next to her? Thoms Wayne.

The streamers, obviously, think they've hit the jack pot because their viewer count is just going up and up because of this new information and also think they've hit some sort of scandal because, wasn't Martha Wayne dead?

Eventually, the find themselves sitting at the dining table with said woman who was silently drinking tea with a bunch of food sitting on the table in front of them. The woman smirked as she placed down her cup, asking if they enjoyed the various puzzles she laid out for them.

Everyone agrees, and the chat is exploding for them to ask if she's actually Martha Wayne.

She doesn't answer save for a cheeky smile and then suddenly they were standing outside of her castle and couldn't get back in.

Safe to say, reporters were flocking to ask various questions.

[dollfacefantasy]

hi! i just finished reading your most recent fic, (amazing btw 💕) and keep reflecting on the part where leon calls reader a little disappointing.. so i was wondering if you could write some angst with DI leon where he’s quite mean and degrading and saying how he’s disappointed and stuff with reader, yk! then leon lovingly fucks reader after as a way to say sorry? (daddy kink included) thank you <3

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon goes a little too hard on you one night during sex. upon realizing how much it hurt you, he knows he has to make it up somehow.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink, praise/degradation, age gap (20s, early forties), mentions of spanking & not using safeword

word count: 5.2k

a/n: part 1 <3 took me a while to figure out how i wanted to do this but i hope you guys enjoy.

Something isn't right.

That's all you could think while watching Leon idly stir pasta sauce at the stove. You were perched nearby at the counter, observing him as if he was under experimentation. While to anyone else his actions would appear completely mundane, you knew that this gesture was only the first step in something larger. 

He never cooked you dinner. In the year and six weeks you'd been with him, he'd only ever made you a real meal twice before. Once being six weeks ago on your anniversary, and the other about four months before that, a couple days after you had a fight that nearly blew the wheels off your relationship.

In each case, there was a reason behind it. Whether to celebrate or make amends, neither was an innocuous decision made at random. You weren't even sure that Leon possessed the ability to be spontaneous, but that was a separate issue for another time. The obvious meaning behind his actions was the cause of the splashing of the noodles being poured into the boiling water making your stomach turn. 

Because today wasn't anything special. There wasn't a birthday or an achievement to make an occasion of. That meant it was the other option, the makeup option, and you were extra sure of this because the two of you hadn't exactly been the perfect picture of being in love lately.

"Honey, could you put these on the table for me?" he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

He looks at you over his shoulder to make sure you see the plates and silverware he's referring to.

"Yeah, sure," you respond.

You hop off the stool you were sitting on and grab the things he wanted you to. This was even worse. He wasn't going to let you eat in peace at the counter like you did when he wasn't here. No, he was going to stare you down across the dining table.

But you still do what he asks. Sighing, you haphazardly put a plate down on both ends of the table with silverware bordering each side to match. You grab glasses next and put them there too. Once everything is in its perfect place, you plop down at your seat, deciding to wait here until he joins you. This chair was out of view from the kitchen which meant you could get a few moments alone to brace yourself.

It's not that anything terrible was going to happen. It was just going to be a conversation. But it would be a relationship conversation, an emotional conversation, something neither of you were good at.

You weren't good at it because you'd never been good at it. Ever since you were a kid, the slightest spotlight put on your feelings had barbs forming in your throat and stinging, salty tears brimming your lash line. Everything had to be coaxed out of you, or you were sure to break down. 

Leon wasn't good at it because his version of a conversation came across more as an interrogation. When talking about feelings, he never wanted to talk about his own. He'd never share what was going on in his own head, he only wanted to know what was going on in yours. You were the one struggling; therefore, you were the one he needed to help. You were the mission to be resolved.

You supposed that was consistent with everything else about the man you loved. He always wanted to be the one in control, the one managing the details of your life. It came from the desire to protect. He showed his love by keeping you safe, keeping you from being like him. He went away for weeks on end following orders. When he came home, he liked to be the one doling them out.

And that was how you liked it too. You weren't some unwilling victim. When he offered to try this stuff out with you, you couldn't have been happier. You liked being told to do this and do it now. You liked the security of his lap, the promise that no matter how bad things got he would be there to wipe away your tears and make it all better.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. You were pretty sure you knew what the specific topic of conversation would be tonight. You'd been distant lately. You could already hear his voice ringing through your head telling you that. For the past couple weeks, you hadn't been you. You hadn't been as sweet on him, kissing his cheeks and stroking his hair while you cuddled. Hadn't been hanging off his body or climbing all over him every chance you got. Hadn't been as eager to squeal daddy when he made you cum.

You knew why, and you knew he didn't. That was by design though. You didn't want him to know. This whole situation had spiraled so far out of control, and you just wanted to sweep your mess under the rug and forget about it. You didn't need daddy's help cleaning it up.

It shouldn't even be that big of a deal. Nothing that bad had happened.

The night that had your panties in a bunch happened a few weeks ago. You'd had a shitty day and so had Leon. You were looking to act out, and he was looking to punish.

You gave him some attitude. A few eye rolls and sharp responses when he asked you things. Looking back, you think maybe you should've sensed he was in a bad mood and just dropped it. That's when the other part of you chimes in and wonders why he couldn't do the same for you. Why couldn't he feel out your emotions and realize you needed him? But then you start to feel emotionally stunted, expecting your boyfriend to be a mind reader. 

This internal conversation never gets very far.

That night he hadn't read your mind. He'd taken you over his lap and given you a spanking. It was pretty standard. You'd had over a dozen of those by his hand at this point. The slaps weren't the problem. His palm hit you all the same, bringing the sting you craved. The part that stuck with you and created this wedge was just him. It was how he spoke, the way he looked at you. 

You could still see the eyes you fell in love with looking at you with nothing but disappointment.

You could still hear him growling in your ear when he had you bent in half and fucked you afterwards. He had you face down on the couch, holding your head against the cushion while he jackhammered into you.

"If you want my attention, all you have to do is ask. You know that. But you never fucking do it. You play these games with me. You think I wanna put up with that? You think I come home and wanna hear you bitching at me too?"

You weren't even sure what about it had got you. It was harsh, sure, but it was supposed to be.

"I want you to be a good girl. To behave. I don't want to deal with a bratty little slut."

He'd said stuff like that before. But in that moment it didn't feel like daddy was mad at you, it felt like your boyfriend was. It didn't feel like you were naughty or misbehaving. It felt like you were pathetic.

"You want daddy's attention so bad, next time you say please like you're supposed to. Don't make me go through the chore of disciplining your ass again. I'm over it."

By some miracle you still got to cum. He came inside you like normal. When he pulled out he'd fallen back onto the cushions of the couch to catch his breath. He lied there, fingers wiping the sweat from his brow as if he'd put in a hard day's work. You sat there unsure of what to do with yourself. After he'd come down a little more, he'd pulled you close, kissed all over your face like normal and taken to you to bed. But you'd laid there with your eyes open, trying not to cry as he snored against the back of your neck.

You're snapped out of your memories by the thud of the pot on the dining room table. Leon stood a few feet away from you, oven mitts on both hands as he placed the dish between your seats. He cracks a smile at you when you look up and meet his eyes.

"I made way too much. I hope you're hungry," he teases.

You respond with a weak grin of your own. Sitting up straight in your chair, you blink a few times and rub your face as if that'd be enough to clear away the past and magically fix everything.

Two of his fingers duck below your chin and guide you to look at him again.

"You ok?" he asks. His voice is tender like it is most of the time when he speaks to you.

"Yeah. I'm just tired," you tell him with a more convincing smile. You're not sure if it works, but he seems to accept it for now.

"Alright," he says, leaning down and kissing the corner of your mouth.

He takes his seat across the table, opposite yours. You get the privilege of serving your portion first. You shovel a helping of pasta onto your plate. The red sauce spreads on your plate, and you grab a piece of toast to soak some of it up. Leon repeats your actions and gets some of the food for himself. He had made too much. You'd definitely have leftovers, but that was nothing to complain about. He made dinner before these conversations for a reason. Like anything else, he was a good cook when he wanted to be.

The meal starts off silent as you had expected it to. You both eat instead of trying to talk. Forks hitting plates and bread crunching into two fills the room in the place of words. A sense of calm comes over you, but you know it won't last forever. Eventually, Leon does break the silence with some basic questions. How was your day, wasn't this summer heat killer, did you see he fixed that thing in the garage you'd asked him to. It's fine. Just fine like everything had been for the past couple weeks.

The conversation reaches another lull though, and this is when he goes for the killing strike.

"Baby, I think we need to talk," he sighs.

You raise your eyebrows as if you hadn't been expecting this.

"About what?" you ask after swallowing your mouthful of pasta.

Now he raises his eyebrows. He's not disappointed, but he knows you're playing dumb and doesn't appreciate it. It's affectionate though. It doesn't look like it did a few weeks ago.

"I know something's bothering you," he tries softly.

"I told you I was tired," you shrug and look away.

"It's not just today though. It's been more than a few days," he says.

You sigh and put your fork down. You're conscious of every part of your reaction in an effort to avoid looking pouty or melting into tears.

"I don't know. The past few weeks I just haven't felt great. It's not like a crisis situation or something," you say.

"Then tell me about it, sweetheart," he says, trying to will you to look up at him with his gentle tone, "I want to help, but I don't know what's wrong. Every time I try, you pull away."

"Not on purpose," you add. It's an important defense to you.

"I'm not saying it's on purpose," he says. You can tell he's trying to be as non-confrontational as possible. Maybe he does pick up on your emotions a little bit. "All I'm saying is that I'm worried about you."

And with one little sentence, you feel the spikes starting to poke through. You look down and place your palm on your eyes. You felt ten times more pathetic than you had a few weeks ago. He can see you're getting closer to breaking, so he continues.

"You can talk to me. If you need something or I did something, I just want to make it better," he continues, "I don't like not knowing what's going on in that pretty head. I like it even less seeing you look so sad."

Your lip wobbles. A last resort to hold in the barrage of emotions. "It's nothing," you choke out.

"It's not nothing if it has you this upset," he counters, speaking quietly, "Just talk to me, little love."

That's all it takes, and you can't hold it anymore. Tears leak from your water line and draw limpid streaks down your face. You bite your lip to nip any audible cries in the bud. It doesn't matter though, he still sees the small droplets of water.

"My baby," he coos, "C'mere."

You rise to your feet in an instant and round the table. He pushes his chair back and takes you into his lap. You're cradled by his warmth, safe against his chest as he rubs your back. As much as you loved mentally complaining about his interrogations, maybe this is what you needed. Maybe this worked for you.

"You're ok. I'm right here," he murmurs. 

He kisses your hairline and cups the back of your neck to keep you close. He lets you cry it out before attempting any more questions. Once it seems you've settled though, the spotlight is back on you.

"What's wrong, sunshine?" he whispers.

Try as he might, you still couldn't bring yourself to say the words. It was like two wires in your brain that just did not physically connect. Expressing pain was hard enough, but expressing pain that he caused? This inability killed you, it really did. Thinking about it brings another sob from your lips. You wanted to beat your own ass till she had enough of a spine to just say a few simple words so this could all be over.

You can't do that though, so Leon continues on with his tender questions.

"Can you tell me when you started feeling this way?" he asks with a hint of hesitation.

There that was one you could answer. "Few weeks ago."

He nods, taking any information he could get as crucial.

"Alright... is there something stressing you out?" he asks.

You shake your head. Technically there was something stressing you out, but while you were breaking down, 'stressing out' was code for responsibilities, so the answer is no.

"Problems with your friends?"

Another head shake.

"Family?"

No.

"...Me?"

You almost shake your head again. You could swing just making something up on the spot. But that wouldn't be right to him. He'd done the work of the guessing game and come to the conclusion fair and square. You nod yes.

A whirlpool of emotion forms in his pupils, but it's almost like he knew he was to blame. He nods and sighs. His hand doesn't stop rubbing your back.

"Ok," he breathes, "You gotta give me a hint, honey."

You found words coming a bit easier now that he had led you this far.

"Remember a few weeks ago when you got mad at me?" you rasp and look at him with your watery eyes.

He blinks at you. "We got into a fight a few weeks ago?" he asks. 

There's genuine confusion in his tone. He didn't remember. Or at least this day didn't stick out in his mind. He hadn't been dwelling on it since it happened, hadn't been wondering if it meant something greater in the context of your relationship. You weren't sure if that brought you relief or frustration.

"No. It was like... it was when I had a bad day and I came home and you were watching that stupid cop show. And I kept talking. And you told me to shut up. And I said you were only watching it cause you didn't know how to change the channel," you list off some of the events that led to the infamous incident.

He smiles upon remembering that little joke. He found it funny. Then why did he get so mean?

"Don't tell me you've been mad cause I wouldn't let you watch your show instead," he teases.

"No, it's not that. Remember after when you spanked me? And then we fucked on the couch..." you sniffle.

He pauses to think about your words. The gears turn in his head, the pieces fall into place. The lightbulb goes off in his eyes.

"Oh yeah. I remember that," he says. He remembers, but he doesn't understand. "What about it?"

His thumb swipes a few tears away while waiting for the answer you were still trying to formulate.

"Well... like... I don't know," you start. You felt ridiculous verbalizing it. "You just kinda hurt my feelings."

His brows furrow. He still doesn't get it.

"Hurt your feelings?" he repeats, "I didn't hit you too hard, did I? You know if that ever happens you have the word. You say it, and I stop for you in a heartbeat. You know that."

"It didn't hurt like that... it's just some of the stuff you said," you say. The urge to pull away is starting to come back.

"Sweetheart," he says. His voice is dripping with concern. He didn't remember saying anything bad enough that you'd still be twisted into knots over it multiple weeks later. "You know you can use the word for that kind of thing too. Please tell me you know that."

"I know that," you start, feeling a little ashamed. This was exactly why you didn't want to talk about this.

"If I say something that hurts you this bad, you need to tell me. Right when I say it. You tell me to stop. You let me remind you it's not real," he says, quiet but firm. He holds you tighter, unintentionally squeezing more tears out of you. "I only say things I think will get you off. I don't say them to hurt you."

You hide your face in his neck. You felt so fucking pathetic.

"Hey, hey, hey. Shhh. It's ok. I just... I want you to understand, baby," he murmurs. He rocks you back and forth on his lap a bit before speaking again. "Can you tell me why you didn't use the word?"

Leon prayed with everything he had that it wasn't because you were scared of him. If that was it, you might as well pick up the fork off the table and jam it right into his heart. You don't answer, and it worries him. All he gets from you is the feeling of tears dribbling down his throat.

"Did it not hurt till afterwards? Did you think I wouldn't stop?" he coaxes.

You shake your head. "Cause... because I don't want you to think I can't take it," you weep.

While he's relieved it's not what he feared, he didn't expect this.

"What do you mean? You can't take it?" he repeats.

"I don't want you to think I'm a bratty little girl. I told you that stuff was ok, and I don't wanna tap out and make you feel all guilty and stuff," you cry, the words rushing from your mouth.

He sighs and his eyes close for a second. He did feel like a piece of shit now, but with what you just said, he didn't want you knowing that.

"My sweet girl," he says against your head while rubbing your back, "I would never think that about you. The word is there for you to use it whenever you want. It doesn't matter if it makes me worry I hurt you. That's not a bad thing."

You cry more into his neck, clinging to him as if you're trying to merge into one.

"I just don't wanna disappoint you," you sob.

"Baby, baby, baby," he whispers, holding you tight against his chest and rocking you again, "You never disappoint me. You don't. Not when you act bratty, not when you break a rule. That shit is all a game. It's a game, and if you don't like it, we don't have to play it.

"I know you're sensitive. I know you get emotional. I'm with you knowing that stuff. It doesn't make me think of you as an obligation. I like being daddy, but it doesn't make me think of you like that. If it makes you feel like that, we can stop. You're more important than any of it."

"I do like it," you weep, "I just... I don't want you to think I'm pathetic."

"I don't think that. I never have," he says and kisses your temple, "You're my baby. My pretty girl. My favorite person on this planet."

You sniffle and snake your arms around him tighter.

"Pathetic or disappointment never cross my mind when I look at you. Half the time I don't even have thoughts when I see you. You're so fucking gorgeous you take 'em all away," he whispers.

He nudges your head out of the crook of his neck so he can see you. His lips land on your forehead first. Then your nose. Then each cheek. And finally your lips.

"Look at me," he whispers.

You do what he asks and look up at him. You look into his eyes. These were the eyes you fell in love with.

"You are not a disappointment," he says before a kiss, "You are not pathetic. I love you. I love you when you're being good or when you're being a little shit. I love when you wanna call me daddy, but you'd still be mine if you decided you never wanted to say that word again."

"I still wanna call you daddy," you sniffle and give him a small smile.

He chuckles and returns the expression. "That was a quick decision," he teases, "Doesn't sound like you thought it through."

"I did. I still want my daddy," you say and put your head down on his shoulder.

"Good. Cause I'm right here," he says softly, "Daddy's got you."

The problem wasn't totally resolved in Leon's mind. Never again did he want to cause you weeks worth of stress over something like this. But for now, he was happy to see you smile. He could accept this temporary fix. He nuzzles your neck and places a few soft kisses on your throat.

"I think daddy needs to make it up to his baby for being so mean to her. For making her cry like that," he whispers.

A warm tingle branches out through your spine and curves around your ribs. You scoot closer to him in his lap and shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Don't give me that shrug. You know you like being spoiled. Being the center of attention," he whispers.

"Yeah..." you whisper in his ear.

He grunts as he rises to his feet with you in his arms. Your legs lock around his waist before his feet even start moving. He'd clean up the table later. Right now was about you.

He carries you through the house, tosses you onto the bed. You squeak at your glide through the air. He pulls his shirt off and drops his pants before climbing on top of you. Always efficient your Leon.

The warm lengths of his muscular limbs encompass you against the mattress. He starts by kissing you on the mouth, but his lips soon trail down to your neck. Tongue and teeth brush over the balmy skin of your neck. He nips a few hickeys along the curve of your throat, listening for every little hitch in your breath or stifled moan.

"Always with those pretty little noises..." he mumbles against your skin.

He inhales you before moving away, gets his fix of your scent before his hands push your shirt over your head and toss to the floor with his. His hands rub up and down your side, gently squeezing and massaging while his mouth migrates towards your chest. He lays kisses at the tops of your breasts. He can feel your heart pattering against his lips. It drives him crazy, feeling what he does to you down to that level.

Your legs wrap around his waist and pull his body closer. You couldn't get close enough after the weeks of distance. He groans as his crotch comes flush against yours. It's as if he can feel the heat of your center through the layers of cloth that separate you.

He kisses between your breasts, forcing himself to remove your bra before he thinks about your pants. He nuzzles the two spheres of flesh with all the care he holds in his body. He'd never been good with words, and the last few weeks proved as much. Showing you physically how he feels is easier.

"Haven't been able to kiss my girls properly in too long," he murmurs and glances up at you, cocky smile in his eyes.

"You're stupid," you laugh quietly.

"Hey. That's not a nice word, princess. Not one you should be calling your daddy," he chides before giving one of your nipples a few sucks.

You sigh contently and arch into the wet embrace of his mouth. "Sorry daddy," you smile.

"I'm sure you are."

He gives your tits some more attention, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't antsy to get his fingers wet. They fumble with the button on your shorts before he lifts your legs and practically tears the garment loose. He kisses your ankle and down your calf to your knee where his hands take over and press them up against your torso. He can feel your slick creating a wet patch on the front of his boxers and ruts into it. His cock grows stiffer beneath the fabric as if trying to get to you.

"You ready for me, babydoll? Dripping like a good girl? Gonna be nice and easy for daddy to slide right in," he says while leaning down to be close to you.

You nod eagerly, your nose bumping against his.

"Nothing makes it better than having daddy inside, hm?" he coos.

"Don't need anything else," you say and sling your arms around his neck.

That's all he needs to hear. He pushes his underwear down his legs enough so that his cock is free. You feel it slot between your puffy outer folds and prod at your entrance.

He slips it inside, and you both groan. Your head tilts back, allowing him to kiss at your neck some more. You'd had sex since that fight, but this was the first time you were feeling full. The first time you were feeling like his again.

"Daddy," you whine and grab at him. Just what he'd been missing.

His hips start to rock. The bones in his pelvis press right up against your ass. He fucks you deep and slow at first. Each thrust glides over a myriad of sweet spots. Every time he pulls back, you just want him to push right back in.

"That's it, honey. Tell daddy how much you missed him," he grunts.

You don't say it with words. You tighten up around him, squeezing his dick like if it gets out you'll die. The sensation wrangles a moan out of him, and his face drops into your neck. He digs his forearms into the mattress and uses the leverage to pump himself into you harder.

"My perfect, perfect girl. Don't know what I'd do without you," he whispers.

Your eyes flutter shut. You just listen to the sound of his panting, feel his heart beating for you. Your thighs tremble while pressing into his waist. Your toes curl as his hips strike the right angle to batter right where you need him.

"You could never disappoint me," he mutters. You feel his lips moving against your throat. "I love you, sweet girl. Nothing you do could ever change that."

The words are almost enough to make you get all weepy again, but you'd cried enough for one day. Instead your body latches onto him tighter.

"Harder," you whimper.

"You sure, baby?" he hums.

Your nod comes quickly. "Need to feel it more. Need it harder."

So he gives it to you harder. His eyes clamp shut and shroud his vision in darkness. He focuses on thrusting hard, clapping his skin against yours over and over. He pounds into you while pressing his face harder against you too.

You show your gratitude with a whine. His shaft hits just right, fills you up just the way you'd been aching for.

"Almost there, daddy- Can I-" you stumble over words.

"Yeah, sweetheart. You don't gotta ask tonight. You cum when you're ready," he says.

That's how you know he's really sorry. He keeps fucking into you until he feels your limbs fizzling from the proximity to release. Everything about you gets shaky. Your breaths are ragged and labored, your hands vibrate while trying to clutch at him.

"Fuck fuck fuck," you whimper.

The spark goes off inside you, and you cum hard. Your body goes taut and rolls through the waves of euphoria. He can't resist your walls pulsating around him. It's only a handful of seconds before his tummy is fluttering and his seed is spilling from him into your cunt.

"Inside, daddy," you whine as if he needed the direction.

"That's what I'm doing, baby," he grunts through clenched teeth.

He drools against your neck while his hips twitch and the last few drops leak from him. The saliva gets smeared in the messy kisses he leaves on you while pulling out. He rolls over but scoops you up with him, cradling you against his chest in a position that isn't necessarily comfortable but you love anyway.

A series of over the top kisses land on your face. You scrunch your nose and shake your head.

"Quit it. I already forgave you," you giggle, "You don't gotta slobber on me."

"Tsk tsk. Ungrateful," he tuts affectionately, "You know if I didn't give you these, you'd be begging for 'em."

"Mmm... maybe," you acquiesce with a little smile.

"Sure, sure. Maybe. Silly girl," he mumbles and nuzzles your cheek.

The playful touches continues for a moment before he calms down and softens up. You look towards his eyes, and his fingers sweep down your cheek.

"You're ok now?" he asks.

You nod. "We're ok now."

To give him the final shred of reassurance that you could, you stick out your pinky. He rolls his eyes, but sticks his out to and hooks it with yours. He knew you were back to yourself since your inability to be serious had made a reappearance. He smacks a kiss on your lips to seal the deal. He can feel you smiling into it.

[meangirls-imagines]

Hi. Can I request a Regina imagine? High femme lesbian reader. She/her. Looks are exactly my profile picture.

Plot:

Reader overhears people spreading terrible rumours about Regina. Reader defends her and Regina eventually finds out. Just pure fluff.

Thank you!

Protective

Description: Reader is usually the level headed one of her relationship. However, she is hanging on by a thread. The thread snaps when she hears a football player talking shit about her girl.

WARNINGS: none really. pure fluff. regina being all heart eyes for reader. reader yelling at men

Y/N was on her last straw.

All week for some reason, people wouldn't stop talking shit about her girlfriend.

Regina George.

It was no secret that people disliked her girlfriend. She knew that. She knew when her and Regina first got together. People would tell her all the time, it's not like she could forget.

But this was different.

It was more constant than usual.

It was like every day there was a new rumor about her girlfriend.

"Regina is cheating on Y/N with Aaron Samuels."

"I heard Regina is pregnant with Jake's baby."

Y/N was tired of the shit talking. She was one little inconvenience from exploding. Luckily for her, it would happen soon.

Unluckily for Shane Oman, he was about to endure Hurricane Y/N.

Regina knew all the rumors about her weren't true, but it still hurt to hear them. Gretchen and Karen were working to kill all the rumors as they started but it was hard when they kept coming.

Regina had no idea how Y/N was reacting to the rumors. She hadn't seen the girl all day due to them not sharing any classes together. So she had no idea what to expect.

She was waiting for the girl in the cafeteria, foot tapping impatiently. Gretchen and Karen were with her, glaring at anyone who looked at Regina badly as they walked past. The blonde felt vulnerable. She just wanted her girlfriend here with her.

Her day just got incredibly worse when Shane Oman came up to their table.

"Hey babe, you wanna hang out later?" Regina cringed. "Shane, you know I'm gay and have a girlfriend. Leave me alone." The boy smirked and leaned closer to Regina. "Oh come on, Regina. Remember how much fun we used to have? All you need is the right guy to straighten you out."

Regina went to reply but was interrupted by someone pouring a smoothie on the boy's head. He whipped around to see a smirking Y/N standing there with an empty cup.

"Hi there, Shane. Let me go ahead and explain something to you. You're going to back away from my girlfriend, and I won't tell the entire school that you have herpes. Got me?" The boy stared at the girl with rage in his eyes.

"Try it. No one would believe you." Y/N smiled at the boy. "Sure, they won't. But, I can very easily get medical documents that say that you not only have herpes but maybe I'll throw erectile dysfunction in there. Imagine how much action you'll get after that."

Shane blushed in embarrassment and stormed off, leaving a trail of smoothie behind him.

The cafeteria was silent, all staring at Y/N in disbelief. The girl stood on the table and addressed everyone.

"Okay. Since we seem to have a gossip problem at this school, allow me to tell everyone now. If I hear a fucking peep about my girlfriend, you can go ahead and sign your fucking death wish. Everyone got it?" The cafeteria seemed to all agree and go back to their business.

Y/N smiled in satisfaction and stepped down, instantly being pulled into Regina's lap. The blonde pulled her into a kiss, causing Gretchen and Karen to squeal.

They pulled away after a minute and Regina brushed her thumb on Y/N's cheek. "Thank you baby. I really appreciate it." Y/N smiled and kissed Regina's forehead. "Anything for you baby."

Needless to say, the rumors stopped and no one messed with Regina again.

[hearts4chriss]

Texas baby.

Angry!Boyfriend Chris x Needy Poc! Girlfriend

prompt: while Chris is filming with his brothers and Sam and Colby you send me a bunch of thirsty texts and images to distract him. Fortunately and unfortunately it works but at what cost?

Part 7

Contains: PURE FILTHY SMUT! humiliation, semi-public, balcony sex, ROUGH! CHRIS, degrading, hair pulling, dacryphilia, overstimulation, use of pet names, hair pulling, ass slapping, choking, photography, dirty talk, spanking, heavy aftercare

A/n: THIS IS DEDICATED TO THE AMAZING & TALENTED GIRL @luv4kozume I LOVE U SO MUCH MAMA ( my mother ) THANK YOU SOOO MUCH FOR ALWAYS BEING THERE IM SO GLAD I FOUND U AND IM SO PROUD OF YOU UR ALMOST @2k🤭🤭

Damnit Chris

Chris Matt and nick were here in Texas to film a collab w Sam and colby and he begged me to come along.

But since he left I’ve been feeling soooo horny for him, I haven’t been able to get him alone of course since he’s here for the collab and I wanted him to explore where I’m from ( surprise :) )

But it’s his fault, he’s been doing things in purpose.

The way he’d hug me from behind pressing his boner into my ass, the way he’d “accidently” grab my tit whenever I’d be out with him and his brothers since we got here.

Oh and his little flirty comments,

“Sorry sweetheart, my fault princess, you need something ma?, you look so pretty mama” all his stupid shit now has me wet and I can’t do anything for hours until he gets back

I had an idea. I was gonna make him pay

I knew how Chris felt whenever I teased him in public, which is exactly why I sent it. It would always end in really, really rough sex.

But we were in a hotel so I'm not sure how this would go but since he was filming with Sam and Colby I hope he doesn't get too upset.

Chris Pov

I was with my brothers and sam and colby as I had just seen the last of my girls texts.

My dick pressed achingly against my pants I swore I felt pre-cum in my boxers. those fucking pictures.

And it only got worse as I tried fixing myself when they weren't looking, just the though of her sitting on the hotel bed in a thong and a sheer black robe covering her made me almost nut in my pants.

I could not wait to bend her over the balcony and fuck her so good, let everyone know shes mine.

Throughout the rest of us filming, I began to get angry and even more pissed off with her sending me those.

She had me turned on, for hours, knowing I couldn't do shit about it.

I was gonna ruin that ass the second I got back. She wants to act like a slut? i'll fuck her like one.

1:27am

I was still awake, I had been laying on the bed before I heard the hotel room door open.

“Hey baby how filming.” I said turning around giving him a clear view of my plump breasts through the sheer material along with the thong hugging at my hips he tried to regain focus.

“You think that shits funny? Sending me that while im in public and making me hard hm?” He spoke in almost a growl his hand wrapping around my throat squeezing a bit and I shook my head and squeezed harder.

“N-no I-dont mphm think its funny-“ I choked out and he let out a scoff before releasing his grip.

“Outside, balcony, bend over.” Was what he instructed and I did so removing the robe walking outside as he followed me smacking my ass and I whimpered

“Faster, slut you wanna get fucked so bad I suggest you move quicker.” Chris said with a teasing tone as I scurried outside bending over and resting my arms on the rails the cool breeze hitting my nipples as they hardened.

“You know what's coming now baby?” Chris spoke in almost a baby-like voice rubbing his hands over the curves of my ass.

before I could speak he lays a harsh smack across my ass I jolt forward gripping onto the rail tightly.

“Don't make a sound yeah? Just be a good girl.” He speaks leaving a kiss on my neck before leaving another smack

“Your, smack, such, smack, a, smack, fucking, smack, slut, smack.” Chris said quickly through gritted teeth as I bit my lip from any groans or whimpers, also ignoring the way my pussy throbbed each time he smacked my ass.

“Fuck-“ he says under his breath fumbling with his pants undoing his belt letting his pants fall to the ground kicking them off before sliding down my thong letting his dick slap on my ass spreading the pre-cum a bit.

“You think you deserved to be fucked?” Think you deserve my cock hm? He said waiting for my answer as I tried to form the words he got irritated smacking my ass.

“You better answer me sweetheart, or you won't even get the tip.” Chris said in a mocking tone.

“P-please Chris- I'm sorry I-promise-“ I choke out my words falling out all over the place and he chuckles spreading my legs before forcing all of him inside me.

He normally would give me time to adjust but he was fucking pissed, he immediately began ramming into my pussy balls deep inside me, his hand grasping my shoulder making it easier to thrust.

“O-oh f-fucking shit Chris!” my jaw slack moaning his name loudly almost forgetting we were outside, but it felt so euphoric feeling him so far gone inside me.

“shit ma so fuckin tight on my dick, such a slut.” He grunted continuing to abuse my cunt letting it coat his cock easily sliding in and out, well pounding.

at the pace he was going, I could cum in probably a minute or two, and I knew chris was gonna make me his cum slut for my behaviour just a few hours ago, I was so fucked.

“shit shit- fuck!- feels so fucking good oh shitt!” I screamed biting my lip from my moans bound to has granted us a noise complaint but boy he did not like.

“Open your fucking mouth, you wanted this right? For me to fuck you like the whore you are?” He said smacking my ass again inserting his fingers into my mouth through my lips.

He continued his pace whilst I made a mess on his fingers from how hard and rough he was going I couldn't keep up as I drooled on his fingers, my ass slapping hard and quick on his pelvis allowing his cock to hit my g-spot every thrust, my stomach already gained the familiar sensation.

“Look at that, already about to cum so pathetic baby.” He chuckles removing his fingers from my mouth so he could pull my hair tightly thrusting harder making a clapping senation.

“FUCK im cumming f-fuck-“ cries of his name flew from my parted lips as my cum began dripping down his length allowing his warm thick load to shoot inside me, but he didn't even slow his pace allowing my eyes to shoot up from sensitivity.

“S-sensitive Chris!” I cried out gripping tightly on the balcony rails and feeling my legs already close in before he reached down spreading them apart leaning over to my ear.

“Nu-uh sweetheart, you wanted this remember?” He mocked leaving a lick on the sensitive spot on my neck making my breath hitch like he knew it would letting his cock ram deep inside me as our cum mixed creating a stick sound.

“such a dirty slut for me aren't you.” He sighs deeply allowing his eyes to roll back at the sight of me so fucked out on his cock.

“F-fuck yes yes- such a slut for you Chris-“ I cry out resting my head sideways on the rails and squeezing my eyes shut to let my mind drift away as it clouded it up from how he was fucking the shit out of me.

“Good girl, so fucking good f'me.” Chris's voice dropped an octave as he was so focused on fucking me till I saw stars it felt, thats when, The sticky sounding was replaced by a squelching wet sensation.

“Fuckk chris- I-“ I groaned my legs quivering as I began squirting over his cock and lower stomach, I could've sworn he would have stopped by now but he didn't

“oh god-“ I said feeling my eyes well up with tears as my legs nearly caved in at the overstimulation and he chuckle admiring how my wetness glistened in the faint light of the moon on the balcony.

“Love this fuckin pussy so much, fits so perfectly around me-“ chris moaned his brown locks sticking to his forehead as his arm wrapped around my torso to squeeze my tit making me whimper my legs began to shake a bit.

“come on ma one more, being such a good girl.” He praises his hand reaching down to rub my puffy clit chuckling at the heat of it as I squirmed tears falling down my face from the overwhelming pleasure.

Chris reached over to the hair grabbing phone putting it side ways and recording in front of me.

“Tell everyone how much a whore you were acting baby hm?” He said still thrusting deeply inside me.

“I-fuck- s-such a whore- for y-you-“ I said panting, almost like a dog my tears on my cheeks as I could hardly form a sentence.

Fucked her so good she can barley speak, fucked her dumb with my cock. He chuckled looking at the camera before setting it down as I could barley support my body weight at this point, my orgasm quickly was approaching.

“Oh fuck fuck I-its- so close-“ My toes curled into the ground allowing everything to entirely take over as I couldn't even process what was happening.

“fuck baby- cum, all over this dick.” He groans his teeth grazing over my shoulder as I shutter in his grasp.

“FUCK- C-cumming s-so fucking good-“ I squealed as I began to cream his dick for the 3rd time as he slowed his thrusts just enough so he could finish inside me again before slowly pulling out.

I try and hold my body up for a bit before chris pulls me into him, my chest heaving as my tears stained my face, our cum dripping out of my abused pussy and my body covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“F-fuck Chris-“ I shake against the balcony rails barely holding myself up before Chris rubbed my shoulder placing a kiss.

“Shh I got you baby.” He whispered in a comforting voice gently picking me up bridle style allowing my head to rest on his chest as he carried me to the bathroom allowing a bath to run for me.

He got a warm cloth pushing my legs apart cleaning my inner thighs first since I'd be more sensitive in between.

“You ready? let me know if it's too much okay?” Chris kissed my forehead and I nodded as he cautiously pressed the warm cloth to my heat cleaning me up being careful to not make me wince.

My bath was ready so he held me again placing me in as i sigh leaning against the back of his as He sat behind me.

“Want me to take ur hair out mama?” or do you wanna keep it in.

“T-take it out.” I sigh tiredly and he smiles grabbing the baby scissors.

He was precise and careful taking my weeve out, I made sure to teach him how to do it so he wouldn't cut my hair and he didn't

Once taken out he undid the braids underneath it beginning to givev my scalp a small massage and I rest my head in his hands.

Your hairs gorgeous baby. He says quietly and I look at him and smile.

Eventually he got me out the bath allowing me to dry off with some support, he carried me to our bed.

“Here you go.” chris smiles handing me a pair of panties and one of his T shirts.

“I'll be right back okay?” He says and I nod as he leaves the room and I’m confused but I’m honestly too tired to even think

I put my bonnet on and wait for him

around 5 minutes later chris comes back with two cokes and a bag of takis.

“I know these are your favorite snacks so.” He shrugs handing them to me before taking off his shirt climbing into the bed with me in his grey sweats.

Thank you. I smile at him

“Of course ma, come here.” He says and I get closer to him laying my head on his chest.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me baby.” I say tiredly and he chuckled.

“Oh don't thank me, it’s my job sweetheart to do that and make you feel so good and plus I think we woke everyone up anyway.” He chuckles

“Oh shit- probably.” I shake my head as we both errupted into laughter.

The rest of that night ( 20 minutes )consisted of us watching TV and eating my snacks before I drifted off to sleep 20 minutes later.

“Goodnight gorgeous.”Chris mutters leaving a kiss to my clothed shoulder turning of the lights cuddling me as we fell asleep.

Taglisttt

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris

@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @mattsnymphette @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @ratatioulle @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @blondiesjailer @kqyslyho3 @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @stqrnstars @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @lacysturniolo @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @luhsexcbihh @nicksmainbitch

[squinch-depraved]

schlatt waking you up and using you however he wants (ib an irl experience kinda?? also first fic i've shared let's gooo sorry it's so short and possibly bad i wanted to get my first real post out on his birthday 😔) (shaking crying scared throwing up pls be nice to me)

you weren't sure when exactly you woke up. maybe it was when the door first creaked open and shut, quickly and quietly. maybe somewhere in the next few stagnant silent seconds in which he seemed to contemplate what he was doing, his broad frame pausing in front of the exit just long enough to think, fuck it, before his footsteps led him to the side of your bed. maybe it was when you felt his cock on your face and heard, "smile, toots," just to open your eyes to a bright flash. he was sitting on you now, pinning you down and smacking his throbbing shaft all over your face. a small whimper forces its way past your lips and he laughs.

"j, 'm so tired," you whine.

"you're the one who said i could use you whenever." he grips your chin in one hand when you try to turn away.

"didn't say you could take pictures," you retort, grabbing a pillow and hiding under it.

"needed something for when we're apart. now stop fuckin' talking, or i'm gonna ruin you even worse than i already plan to." the pillow is thrown off the bed before he's even done speaking. "and don't hide this pretty little face when i'm lookin' at it." he pauses for a moment, and then spits on your face. it's humiliating. it's pathetic. but it makes you so, so wet. and he can tell.

he throws your blanket somewhere, and you sigh because you know once he's done with you you'll have to get out of bed to go get it again. unimportant and worth it compared to what's about to happen. a grin lights up his face when he notices you aren't wearing anything but one of his sweaters.

"fuck, doll," he breathes. "were you expecting this or somethin'?" dipping his finger into your slick and bringing it to his mouth, he groans. "never mind, i don't fucking care, just- ugh, just keep lookin' pretty while i use you like the stupid toy you are."

you squeal as he slides himself between your legs and wastes no time slamming himself into you.

"god, toots, slid in so easily, huh? you that wet for me?"

he snickers when you can't say anything back, too sleepy and delirious from his dick to manage a reply. one hand comes up to wrap around your throat while the other holds himself steady as he pounds into you at a relentless pace. what was, before this, a quiet bedroom, is now a dark, echoey chamber of moans and grunts, skin on skin sounds bouncing off the wooden furniture and slate grey walls. pleasure dances through your limbs, settling as an ever-building burning deep in your core. you try to speak with his hand still around your neck.

"j, 'm gonna-"

"i don't care, y/n, either come on my cock or don't but shut up," he pants.

and so you do. you come undone, digging your nails into his back through his sweater. a few moments later, he speeds up a bit and grunts, burying his face into your neck and spilling a rather large load into you. you both stay there for a few minutes, content and unsure of what to say. finally, he looks up at you and smiles slightly.

"sorry. i, uh. i just needed. that," he mumbles. you pet his hair and kiss his forehead.

"get the fuck off me so i can clean up and sleep."

[eclipzee3]

˗ˏˋ 𝓐 𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 ˎˊ˗

𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆!𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑𝒅𝒂𝒅 𝒙 𝑷𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒑 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔!𝒅𝒃𝒇 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

˚ʚ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ɞ˚

•°`` 1.1k ``°•

➵tw for stepcest, somnophilia, basically dub-con, age gap, sexual comments, groping, cream pie, oral sex, threesome, lmk if I missed any. Super mean price, too!

Hide this post if you do not like the warnings. Please block me or do what you see fit.

You didn't exactly want to admit how you felt about it. Your fathers best friend, Philip, was a pain in the ass. Quite literally as well.

Every time he came over, he was all over you, and along with your father. And even worse, your mother's job had her away constantly. And it wasn't like you could text her. Not when your dad had to give you a phone and watch what you did on it before taking it back.

It was ironic given that he was watching porn all the time on his phone. You had walked in on him once or twice. You still weren't sure if he was really close or if he had come to you both times. You hoped for the latter, obviously.

Philip wasn't the brightest either, as stated. Whereas your father was with you all the time, every time phil came over, his advances were clear. Missing panties, bras, shirts.. you name it. Even your own jewelry? The worst part is he would tell you exactly what he'd do with them. And return them to you.. with their own new design. More of, covered in cum. Needless to say, those panties were thrown away. But you didn't have an infinite supply of the damn fuckers, so there you were. Sitting alone in your room with no panties and a tight little top for bed.

You preferred tighter clothes for bed since they didn't slide around as much. You dad didn't seem to think it was for that. It was surely just to turn him on.. According to him.

You had lost doorknob privileges due to talking back when it was really just you telling him about why you decided to wear tight clothes. He wouldn't even let you buy baggy ones. Said you'd look homeless every time.

So, under your covers, you were really just in a camisole. Just a baby pink shirt, nothing special. You were so ready for bed. It was the middle of the week, and you had classes tomorrow at your college, so you had to get your beauty sleep. Until...

You heard a knock at the front door, then a few clicks of the doorbell. You already knew who it must've been.

Fucking phillip.

"Hey!!" He shouted, seeing your father. You pictured the scene in your head since you were upstairs. Sulking in dread as you already knew what was about to happen. You heard muffled voices.. and then walking up the stairs. You saw your dad's silhouette through the small hole of your absent doorknob.

"Phil wants to see you, baby doll." He peeked his head in, and you audibly groaned. "No." You mumbled, glaring at him.

"No attitude. You know fuckin' better. Get up, you're saying hi. And just for that, you'll be spending about an hour with us since you wanna be such an uptight brat." He glanced at his watch before watching you instead of disappearing. You just looked back. Wouldn't he leave?

"Get up. You wanna test me?" He growled, walking in and getting closer to you. He hovered over you, his eyes staring daggers into yours. "If you wanna be a fucking brat do it so phil can see. Get the fuck up, y/n." He said in a yelling whisper voice. The type your mom would use when you were misbehaving in public.

Abruptly, he tugged your covers off just as you were about to say anything. No panties.. no covers. No privacy. He glanced down, taking a look at your bare pussy. "Oh so you're being a slut now? Is that it?" He said, rolling his eyes before grabbing your arm. "I don't have any underwear!" You protested, but he dragged you out of bed regardless despite you trying to fight him. There was no use. He was twice your size.. you weren't exactly a fighter either.

He pulled you down the stairs and led you into the kitchen.. only Phil to be there with a grin on his face. "What's wrong? Missing something?" He asked, glancing down at your hands tugging down at your camisole to cover yourself. Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment and anger setting in. You were flustered, and your own father threw you at a man whore. "Fuck off." You snapped at him, only to get a rough push into the counter by your dad, his body pushing you into the cold marble. "You will not speak to our guests that way, do you understand." He roughly whispered into your ear with gritting teeth before pushing off you after your little scolding.

You stood there, practically fuming. You glared at phil, only making him chuckle, his eyes drifting down to your pussy.. a little bush of pubes very visible, along with your pussy lips.

"Wanna tell Phil why you don't wanna wear underwear, hm?" John seemed to have calmed a bit, almost a playful tone as he glanced down too.. feeling a bit of blood rush to his cock.

"Because someone took all my panties and used them to jerk off with." You said dryly, eyes connected with Phil's as he finally looked up, tilting his head. "Wasn't me, baby. Must've been your dirty daddy." He laughed, only for John to laugh with him. Your dad's hand slipping around your waist before sliding down to your ass.. giving it a rough squeeze. "Guess we'll have to get you some more, huh?" John said, his hand leaving you to reach out to the fridge only to grab two beers. Despite being of age, you still weren't allowed to drink. Or basically do anything for that matter.

He passed the beer to Phil for him to smirk, tipping his head up as a thanks before he opened the cap with just his thumb. You were surprised he didn't have a deep cut of some kind. You guessed it was from all the shit he did over the years.. creating a rough callous on each of his fingertips. John did the same, for them to take a few sips, dramatically smacking and doing what older men had to.

"You just wanna stand there? If you need something to do, you can always start cleaning. Something a woman like you should be doing." He said, taking a quick sip before chuckling softly. "Or actually, a girl like you."

Fucking prick. You chose not to talk. It would only get you either having to actually do that or screamed at.. or worse. You shuddered at the thought. They both began to chat.. while you stood there awkwardly.. backing away slowly.

John didn't seem to notice. Nor care. So, you crept up the stairs, being sure to avoid the creaky parts before getting into bed, shutting your eyes. You prayed they wouldn't notice you disappeared, but they would eventually. You were just afraid of what would happen.

ㅤ/ᐠ - ˕ -マ z Z Z

"Wanna fuck her?" Phil said. He wasn't lightweight. He knew well what he was doing. What he was asking from your father. And your dad did, too. He wasn't dumb. "Why wouldn't i?" He said back, glancing at each other.

"Her fault for wearing that shit.." Phil cursed under his breath, palming himself as they stood above your bed.. watching your body squirm in whatever dream you were having. John's eyes were focused on your ass. Perked out as you were cuddled into yourself.. curled up. You said sweet little nothings.. soft hums coming from your mouth as your pussy soon glistened.

To answer the question.. yes. You liked it. You loved it. The attention was horrible, but the outcome? God. Your poor pussy needed cock. You were still a virgin due to your dad being a prick and not letting you lose it.. so your fingers and household items were really the best you had. And you couldn't even deny it if you were asked. You had wet dreams about fuckng yourself on your dad's cock maybe every night.

Your pussy was practically dripping. John groaned softly.. his cock perking in his jeans. "Fuck.. pretty girl.." he mumbled, bending his knees as he moved his hands to your ass.. rubbing it before sticking a finger in your tight little hole.. the warm wetness sucking him in. Phil was unbuckling his jeans.. pulling his boxers down and stroking his meaty cock in no time as he watched your father finger you..

"So fuckin' tight..." he rose from his position.. pulling his cock out as well.. moving down once more.. just now on your bed. You still hadn't awoke yet since your dream was also quite action packed. You didn't notice the dips in the bed where your father's knees had gone.. his hand guiding his cock along your wet folds, a grunt leaving his lips as he took everything in him not to cum right there and then. Phil hummed behind him, precum from his cock making wet noises as he pumped his cock.. grabbing one of your arms from where it was tucked in your chest before gliding it over his cock instead. Soon, both the men were groaning.. only fondling with you now.

John decided it was enough. So, he began to push his cock inside you, Phil now moving onto the bed aswell, on the other side as he rubbed his cock against your cheek. They were both getting what they wanted before your eyes began to flicker open.. Phil reacting immediately. He slipped his cock in your mouth, holding your head as he licked his lips.. eyes rolling back as he began to buck his hips against your tongue. You hummed... the foreign feeling of something prodding at your pussy making you mumble more.. little movements coming from you as you finally began to realize what was taking place. You moaned as your stepdad began to work himself in further, groans leaving his lips as you squeezed around his cock. You whimpered.. hands tugging on Phil as he lifted your head farther on his cock.. guiding you as you moaned around both of them.

"Fuck, baby.." Phil cursed. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this." He began to thrust into your mouth, your eyes widening as you gagged and choked on his girth. He was huge.. you could feel how slimy his cock was from his precum.. and even better, your daddy was thrusting into you at the same time, cock covered in your sticky arousal as lube. He began to spoon you, rutting up into your core as you moaned, his hand reaching around to play with your clit at the same time.

"So tight, princess.. love this big ol' cock dontcha' babe.." he purred into your ear, quickening his pace as he groaned and bit at your neck.. Phil bruising your throat at the same time. John knew you were helpless. He knew you were just a little toy for him now.. and he fucking loved it.

He thrusted and thrusted, finger quickening on your sensitive bud as Phil began to slow down.. sloppy thrusts following as he quickly pulled out of your mouth, pumping his cock quickly.. "fuckfuckfuck.. cmon.. fuck.. baby.." His feet scrunched as you moaned on your daddy's cock, little whimpers leaving you as you closed your eyes.. Phil shooting cum all over your face.. the gooey white substance dripping from his tip as he groaned.. swallowing hard as he watched John practically pound into your pussy as he sucked on your neck. "Gonna ruin this pretty pussy.." He said, voice rough and gravelly as he tried to keep his composure inside you.. his free hand going under you and slipping beneath your shirt to cup your tit.. pinching your nipples.

"Fuck! Ah.. too much!" You whined.. shorted breaths leaving you as you reached down to play with your clit.. your breath quickening as you came closer and closer to the edge.

"Gonna cum? Gonna cum all over step daddy's cock?" He grunted, obviously close himself as he kept going steadily, your clit burning with heat as you finally came.. short gasps leaving you as you whimpered.. mumbling yes over and over again as you father came quickly after cock pushed up into your cervix as he came.. hips jolting as he hummed.. "ur' pussy belongs to me, doll.. daddy's girl.."

He had filled you to the brim with his cum.. eventually pulling out only for the cum to ooze out of you.. body shaking as you gasped.. feeling the absence of your dad's cock as you drifted back to sleep..

"Never getting a filling that good from anyone else.." he whispered, kissing your forehead as he presumably got dressed with Phil... leaving you to your dreams as you slept.

This took so unbelievably long to make. It looks so short, too 😭. I hope you enjoyed it!! lmk if you want a part 2 maybe?? If this gets traction maybe but idk I'm not gonna like waste time if it's not gonna be enjoyed yknow 🤧

༊*·˚

[viviennevermillion]

Sharing a tent with him ♡

author's notes: set during vargas camp. unfortunately i never found a full translation of the second one so if anything here contradicts canon, just roll with it. spontaneously writing this at 10pm after vowing i'm gonna go to bed early today so i can go to work earlier. oops. also picsart gold is making me go off with the headers so I'm making these for literally every character because i have no life. contains: malleus draconia x gn!fae!reader, cuddling warnings: none

Malleus, as always, is happy to go on a trip outside of Night Raven College; especially if he gets to share the experience with you and in this case Lilia as well. To be honest, you weren't exactly excited about spending your days in the woods near the creepy dwarf mine, engaging in sports and camping activities; but the presence of a certain fae prince made you look forward to it at least a little.

That feeling only multiplied when Vargas announced the students would be sharing tents in groups of 2-3 people and Kalim and Cater excitedly asked Lilia to have a Pop Music Club sleepover. "I'm sorry you two, but I think I'll have to decline. I'm sure Malleus-" "I'll share a tent with Malleus", you blurted out and the dragon fairy raised an eyebrow at you but immediately shot you an amused grin. "You seem quite eager", Malleus put his hands on his hips and smiled at you, "very well. I'll allow it. Just be sure you won't be frightened halfway through." You could tell he was joking and Lilia chuckled at Malleus's obvious excitement about the matter.

Malleus absolutely adored the fact that you wanted to be close to him and spend time with him; that you even felt comfortable enough to fall asleep around him. He sucked up every piece of evidence for that like a sponge, already craving the next instance of you expressing how much you valued him as a companion.

You let out a long sigh after Malleus broke the tent pole for the third time by hitting it too hard with the hammer. "Here let me be so courteous as to help you", you teased and put the pole into the ground, firmly hitting it with the hammer a few times until you felt that it was firmly stuck in the ground. "So, what do we do now?", Malleus seemed at a loss, trying to inspect the instructions on the information sheet Vargas had given you, "why do they explain these things in pictures? Why not put words too? I have no idea what this means." You could see him pouting and took the sheet from him with a laugh. "Be glad you'll never have to put furniture together yourself because that's just like this but worse", you sighed and inspected the pieces for the tent, "okay so....uh....I think this big thingy goes onto the pole and then we....uh-" You tried building the tent and helplessly watched the pole tip over and your "tent" sink to the ground. "You know, on second thought, maybe we should just sit down and wait until Vargas does it himself", you gestured awkwardly and sat down on a tree trunk.

"Oh but we are supposed to do it ourselves. After all we won't be able to understand the feelings of humans once they experience the joys of camping after all the hard work it takes to prepare it", Malleus smiled. "You're too eager for your own good", you took a deep breath. "You were the one who wanted to share a tent with me so badly", he grinned and it was clear he was relishing in the fact that you hadn't hesitated even a second to suggest pairing up with him for this trip. "You're making me sound desperate", you shook your head in disappointment and Malleus chuckled, reaching out his hand to you.

"I'm sure this is going to turn out to be quite pleasant if we commit to it. Once we're finished with our work we can be proud of the result. It might not be perfect but it'll be ours and we can share it for the next few days like a temporary home for just the two of us-" His words made your heart flutter and you took his hand and got up. "How could I say no when you put it like that?", you sighed and continued trying to build the tent.

You enjoyed a nice evening with Malleus and the other students; grilling marshmallows over the campfire and listening to the others talking about experiences they had with camping so far. There were fireflies surrounding you, nothing too unusual for being around Malleus, and the atmosphere was a peaceful one that made both of you feel happy and content.

The two of you were the last ones at the campfire, watching the embers as well as the stars above. You rested your head on Malleus's shoulder as a shooting star passed the night sky. Malleus leaned his head against yours and closed his eyes, a peaceful smile on his face as well. Malleus put out the fire and the two of you went to bed, turned to each other in your sleeping bags.

You watched curiously as Malleus pulled out something from his backpack. It was an enchanted lamp, shaped like a rose. Small, soft lights were dancing across the petals, bouncing off the ceiling of the tent. "These are quite popular in Briar Valley. I thought you might like it, so I brought it along", he smiled and put it somewhere where both of you could look at it. The conversation about the lamp evolved into a quiet talk about Briar Valley; Malleus telling you all sorts of stories about his homeland and mentioning a variety of places he was going to show you if you wanted to visit. He spoke with fondness until both of your words had turned to mere whispers.

If you don't pull the good old "I'm so cold" trick to try and be closer to him, he definitely will.

Malleus was amused at how almost dramatic you were about it. "It's so icy in this tent... I'm going to freeze to death....whatever shall I do?", you sighed with a sorrowful expression on your face and Malleus looked at you seriously. "I could make a fire to warm-" "GOD NO", you gestured wildly as you felt Malleus's fire magic manifesting within the tent. He put the flame out just as fast as it had appeared. He seemed to ponder the predicament further, then smirking at you. "Of course...you could always come closer if you dare", he teased, "I won't mind." "You don't have to tell me that", you smirked back.

That was how you ended up snuggled against Malleus in his sleeping bag, your own sleeping bag long discarded to the side. You had your head rested on his chest and your arms wrapped tightly around him. "This is a strange feeling....but not unpleasant. I like it", Malleus mused and absentmindedly started drawing circles on your shoulders, "although something tells me you had intended for this all along." He smiled as you confirmed his suspicion, a little flustered from the fact that he had seen through you. "There's no need to shy away from me", he clarified, "you need only ask. I don't mind being close to you." He breathed out and closed his eyes, leaning his cheek against your forehead.

The two of you remained silent for a while, until you weren't even sure if he was still awake. "Malleus?", you whispered; a quiet "hmm?" signaling that he wasn't asleep. You hesitated for a moment, your fingertips running up and down his arm. "I just wanted to say...", you took a deep breath, "I've really grown to treasure your presence in my life... You've become very important to me and being around you....well....makes me happy. I'm glad to have met you. I hope you know that." You could hear Malleus's heart beating faster against your ear and you felt him trying to pull you even closer.

"That means quite a lot to me", he whispered back, his lips grazing your forehead as he spoke, making you wish he'd just press a kiss to your skin already, "I feel the same about you. Thank you for being part of my life." You squeezed him gently in your embrace, making him smile.

You remained silent for a few moments, thinking about what you should say next. "You know.... I've spent all my life going from place to place; meeting all kinds of people and experiencing the brief but meaningful moments that life among humans had to offer, but I never really stuck around anywhere. There was nothing that I felt could capture my interest forever; just a century even. The people I met were just as fleeting as my time spent with them. I never had any reason to settle down", you whispered and took his hand into yours, running your thumb across his soft skin, "but now that I've met Lilia, Silver, Sebek and especially you, for the first time I'm certain I want to stay. Do you think there might be place for me in Briar Valley?"

Malleus was awestruck, his eyes widening with every word you spoke. Surprise made him incapable of even replying for a minute. His heart fluttered and there was a feeling of warmth and love in his chest that he didn't even know he craved this much but that henever wanted to miss out on again. You really wanted to stay...with him...as if it was the most self-evident thing possible.

Malleus's expression turned into a soft smile eventually and he squeezed your hand back. "I'm sure that could be arranged", he whispered with an adoration in his voice that was hard not to pick up on, "got anything in mind already?" You closed your eyes, focusing on his chest rising and falling and the soft sound of his breathing. You knew what you wanted. But you didn't dare say it yet. "We'll see." Malleus nodded. Perhaps you could be a guard. Or an attendant. Or an advisor. Or perhaps...the idea he undoubtedly liked the most: You could stand at his side, watching over the country alongside him; forever united in the love you felt for one another.

"Yes. We'll see", he confirmed and wrapped his arms tighter around you; the dreams you two shared remaining unspoken for now. But Malleus knew just as well as you did where he wanted to take the bond you had. Just say the word and I'm yours, he thought, falling asleep with you in his arms and a peaceful smile on his face.

[sixxrock666]

Can you write a Nikki Sixx imagine for new years, I know this is a late request so don’t worry about rushing you can take however long you need :)

I wasn’t sure what exactly you wanted so here’s a lot of fluff with Nikki on a new years eve. Hope you don’t mind i added a fun scene with all of the members…crossing my fingers you’ll like it :)…it is pretty short tho so sorry about that

★ new year

You were currently on your way to the new years party the guys were talking about these past few weeks, walking with Nikki and the guys, with Nikkis hand draped over your shoulder keeping you close and warm.

You all were slightly intoxicated from the alcohol you already drank at Vinces place, so it was no surprise when Tommys shout interrupted your peaceful walk.

"Dudes there's a photo booth we've got to go in there"

Mick rolled his eyes ready to protest but Vince was already excitedly following Tommy to the booth.

"fucks sake" Mick grumbled out but ended up following them anyway like the responsible parent.

Nikki laughed to himself before pulling you along.

Ever since you started dating Nikki you became really close with the guys and you’d dare to say they were your family. They filled your days with endless laughs and happiness and you were so thankful for them despite all the casualties they caused.

Tommy was the first to get in the booth placing himself in the corner. Mick went after him along with Vince, which left Nikki the free chair in the middle. He sat down and pulled you on his lap.

Vince reached over to put in the money and start the machine up but in the process he ended up butting his hand into Nikkis head and his elbow into Micks stomach so all hell broke lose before you even got to take the picture.

Mick was letting out curse after curse, Tommy was trying to get to calm down Vince but made it worse, while Nikki stoot up, trying to get back at Vince and somehow you got pulled up along with them.

After you all calmed down you realized the pictures were already done, already taken. You caught Vinces eye, the look of pure horror on your faces... the pictures were done.

You all tried to scramble out of the small space to see what came out of this at once. Which considering the small door was a horrible idea.

You were the first to get your hands on the photos and oh god.

Somehow the first picture consisted of a blurry Tommy and Nikki launching onto Vince, then the second one was you getting pulled up by Vince with Mick looking ready to kill you all. And in the last photo you weren't really sure what was going on because all you could see were blury bodies and hands sticking out everywhere.

Suddenly Tommy snatched the picture out of your hands and just started laughing like crazy while showing it to the other guys. Heck they were crazy but you loved them so much and wouldn't trade this for anything.

Tommy carefully put the picture away and swung his arms around you and Nikki, nestling himself in the middle. Vince joined yourside ruffling your hair and Mick stuck to to Nikkis side as you made your way to your destination.

☆彡𐬿𐮛⁂☆✯𐮙𐬾

You were finally able to get away from the party with Nikki, you were both running up the stairs hand in hand while trying not to fall over, with alcohol flowing through your veins.

You two were giggling like crazy as Nikki almost threw himself at the door when you reached the top. You helped him steady himself and open the door to the roof top.

Nikki led you to the ledge and he looked absolutely breathtaking. His dyed black hair looked as fluffy as ever. The moon haze shone on his eyes making them look ethereal. His smile lit up his whole face and you felt that fuzzy feeling in your chest know he was the one. Your Nikki.

"C'mon what are you thinking so hard about love"

Nikki said as he pulled you towards him, your back to his chest with his arms wrapped around you.

"Nothing I'm just really happy" you barely whispered out. Nikki nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck and placed soft kisses along your neck, while his hands caressed your hips lovingly.

"I'm glad"

You couldn't be more happy with Nikki besides you, the rest of the boys somewhere around and the dark sky, lit up with stars all over with the muffled music coming from downstairs. You found solace in the moment.

Nikki suddenly perked up as you both heard the countdown starting.

He spun you around and looked you straight in the eyes while his face was plastered with the most sincere smile.

He placed his hand on your cheek, pulled you closer and rested his forehead momentarily against yours. The look he gave you was filled with nothing but pure love and adoration. You were his.

"4, 3, 2, 1,.."

Nikki pulled you in a sloppy kiss while holding you firm, his hands on your hip and cheek. The fireworks went off in the distance, the sound muffled but neither of you cared much because all you two could feel was each others warm skin.

He could still taste the remaining cherry cola chapstick you always used and he could feel you smile into the the kiss. He had everything he ever wanted and dang it if this won’t be the best year till now he doesn't want it.

He lightly deppened the kiss, his hands slowly moving downward towards your ass as his tongue found his place in your mouth.

When you had to catch a breath you pulled away laughing and throwing yourself on him, arms around his neck as he lifted you off the ground and spun you around before stopping and laughing along with you.

Nikki placed a short, sweet kiss on your forehead and pulled you back in the hug as his calloused hands started stroking your hair.

"fuck i love you so much" he whispered as he squeezed you thighter afraid you’d disappear.

"i love you" you said back, with the fireworks still going off.

☆彡𐬿𐮛⁂☆✯𐮙𐬾

[escelia]

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Here's part 3 (or chapter 4) of my fic Not So Normal. After this installment, I'm planning on uploading the series to ao3 as well as Tumblr so stay tuned for that link to drop!

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterpost

Not So Normal pt3

TW: vague, brief descriptions/mentions of violence, vivisection, and panic attacks

It had been a total accident. His parents were supposed to be halfway to a science convention by then. When Danny floated through the floor and into the kitchen he hadn't expected his mothe- he hadn't expected Maddie to be there. He should have expected the gun in his face a moment later, but definitely not the hole she'd put in his chest before he'd even gotten a word out. It happened so fast. The shouting and shooting, the thermos…

He'd come to on the exam table in the lab, wrists bound, bright light in his face. He could barely make out the figures just beyond it, though he knew exactly who they were. He'd begged and screamed and cried, anything to get them to listen. Jack had gotten Maddie to take a breath and listen for a moment as Danny tried to get it through to them that he was their son!

"I'm Danny, it's me! I'm still me! Please, mom, you've gotta believe me!"

They believed him. He never thought that would make it worse. They became curious in a way they weren't before. Less angry about the dastardly spook they thought had been impersonating their son and more eager to tear into the science experiment they believed legally belonged to them. They called him an abomination that was no longer human and gripped their scalpels with cruel excitement on their faces. He remembered screaming for hours.

Only Clockwork would be able to say how long he'd been like that. All Danny had known was that he was tired and weak, his throat was dry and his entire body ached. He'd been in human form for the whole thing, and though it was much more painful that way, it kept them from getting to his core. He would only ever be grateful for that.

Eventually it was Jazz that had released him. Jack and Maddie had stepped out for dinner believing his restraints would hold his weakened body. They'd been right, he couldn't have escaped on his own, but Jazz had snuck down to the basement right after they'd left and shoved him through the portal, telling him not to come back, it wasn't safe, but to contact her when he knew he was okay. She'd locked the portal's blast door behind him. There, drifting in the vast green of the Realms, he cried and cried until he felt himself fall through a natural portal.

He'd dropped into a dirty alley with a painful thud and couldn't suppress the cry of pain as rocks and dirt pressed into his wounds.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" He'd heard a man call. Gentle but firm hands helped him sit up, his own hands busy keeping his chest closed and smearing the blood and dirt that already covered him. The man gasped in horror as Danny begged for help.

Turns out the man that found him was none other than Bruce Wayne. He was alright as far as billionaires went; far more sane than Vlad at the very least. When Bruce asked what happened all he could get out was that his parents hurt him and he never wanted to go back there. Bruce had decided then and there that he would keep Danny. They'd taken pictures of the damage for court, thinking they would need to build a solid case since Danny was healing up well. He even called in a few favors with his lawyers. The Fentons, though, oh they helped plenty.

"Dr's Fenton, how do you plead?"

"Guilty! That thing is a monster! It belongs to us! That's our experiment! It's fooled you all! You'll see, just wait!"

Several of the officers around the courtroom had to restrain them as Maddie screamed and flailed. Jack was fuming. But much more docile than his wife. The pictures and testimonies had been enough to prove them guilty of child abuse and neglect, but their outburst all but sealed their fate as unsuitable parents. That day, Danny found a new place to call home, and a new family he was ready to die for.

~~•○•~~

Today was the day! Er- night! Tonight was the night! Danny was finally going out on patrol with the bat clan officially. After the events at the warehouse and his family finally learning about his past as Fenton and Phantom, Bruce has asked Danny if he was interested in patrolling with them. Damian had vouched for Danny, doling out thinly veiled compliments about his fighting prowess. Bruce decidedly kept that info to himself. The enthusiasm with which Danny responded had Bruce regretting asking, but it was clear that Danny had been itching to get out there and fight some crime.

Due to his experience, he'd been paired with Nightwing for the night. Dick had cheered at finally getting some one on one time with Danny, pulling him in for the kind of suffocating hug only an older sibling could provide. They had an absolute blast that night. Dick would show off, doing fun, dangerous looking flips off of buildings before firing his grappling hook at the last minute. And Danny could keep up, even as he swung through the air. It made Dick cackle in delight. Quietly of course, they were very stealthy, thank you! (Dick had to be shushed over the coms several times, and Danny was able to keep his laughter to a quiet snicker.)

They'd been on a roll with Danny being able to cover so much ground from so high up. In just the first few hours they'd stopped at least three muggings, recovered a stolen car, and prevented a bank robbery before it had even begun. Hearing his father commend him for a job well done over the coms made him glow with pride. He'd never had so much fun on patrol before. It made his core vibrate with glee.

"Danny, are you… purring?" Dick asked. He heard the others gasp over the coms.

"No! No, now way, I'm absolutely not purring! What gave you that idea?"

"He purrs?" Tim guffawed over the line, and Steph began to giggle uncontrollably.

"Absolutely not!"

"I've found he purrs when he's incredibly happy or content, just like a cat," Damian explained. He could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Aaawwwwwww! I'm happy spending time with you too, baby ghost!" Danny was smothered with another hug.

"Betrayed. By my baby brother! I cannot believe this."

"Settle down everyone! We're still on the clock," came the gruff, authoritative voice of Batman.

Sobering up from the moment, Danny and Dick went back to patrolling. It was starting to get quiet in their area, the others reporting incidents in their own sections of the city. It gave them time to grab a snack before something new popped up.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Nightwing began, taking a bite of his granola bar.

"I am," Danny replied. His snack of choice was a pack of fruit snacks. "Patrolling in my old haunt was exhausting. It was just me and my two friends out there most nights. Fight after fight after fight… I have a sense that lets me detect the presence of other ghosts, and it seemed to go off nonstop there. I was lucky if I got eight hours of sleep in a week, let alone a night." He paused to pop a few snacks in his mouth. Dick was quietly attentive, munching on his granola bar.

"Here, I know I've got someone to watch my back. And it helps that humans are much easier to handle non-violently than ghosts."

"I'm glad you like it here, Phantom," Nightwing said with a smile, using his codename. Danny smiled back, getting ready to toss a few fruit snacks into his mouth but stopping short when a chill unfurled on his chest. He gasped, dropping his snacks. Seemed like their break was over.

"What's wrong?" Nightwing asked alert now, eyes flicking around the area to perceive the threat.

"Get behind me."

"What?"

"Just do it! You're not equipped to fight ghosts!"

At the word ghost, the coms erupted in chaos. Danny shouted at them to stay clear, he could handle it just fine, it was probably a small fry anyways. Dick followed his directions, getting behind Danny but not cowering. No, his big brother was covering his back. Sure enough, about a minute later, three large glowing vultures rose over the edge of the rooftop.

"Awe great, it's the birds with the hats! What do you want?"

"Good evening to you, too, King Phantom," one of them snickered. Danny just scowled.

"Plasmius sent us to, and I quote, 'knock some sense inta ya.'" another one said, making air quotations with the tips of his wings.

"I'll have you know I've got a thermos here with your names on it and no access to a portal. How does an extended stay in Soupland sound?" Danny waved his thermos threateningly at them, a sarcastic smile on his face.

"How does taking your little friend here hostage sound?" The last one threatened, perching his claws on Dick's shoulders. Faster than Dick could blink, Danny had spun around, ice shooting out to freeze the two other two birds, thermos pointed like a gun, while clawed fingers wrapped around the third one's neck. The bird squawked in fear.

Frost swirled dangerously around his aura, and Dick swallowed nervously in the face of its intensity. Danny's eyes were glowing a furious, toxic green, and even though the glare wasn't directed at him, he could feel its anger. Dick had seen him like this at the warehouse, sure. But now, this close, Dick truly understood the sheer power that Danny possessed, the majesty that was this eldritch creature in front of him. Somehow, all he felt in his presence was safe.

Danny growled at the ghost clutching at Nightwing, squeezing until the talons loosened.

"Why did Vlad send you?" He questioned. Absently, Dick thought he reminded him of Bruce in interrogation mode.

"He's mad some other guy adopted you or something, the same usual psycho spiel!"

"What's he planning!"

"I don't know! He was going on about how you're supposed to be his son and was throwing things. He wanted us to come rough up you and your new family. He's real mad, but that's all we know, I swear!"

It was silent for a moment while Danny absorbed the information. He regarded the vulture with cold eyes but didn't release him. He should have known Vlad would try something like this. His adoption wasn't super public but it wasn't like it was a secret either, so he'd been bound to find out. Most ghosts respected him too much as King now to threaten anyone Danny considered family, but Vlad always had his ways. He'd have to take care of it without getting the others involved.

Making up his mind, he hit the button on his thermos, sucking up the frozen ghosts and the ice along with it before swinging it around and shoving the end on the last one's beak, trapping him too. Dick sagged in relief once they were gone and Danny made a fuss about checking his shoulders to make sure he wasn't injured.

"Phantom, what was that about!" Bruce's voice was strained over the coms, likely because he didn't know what to do or how to help. Damn, Danny had forgotten that the others could hear them. At the time it had been a brilliant idea; Danny infusing the coms with ectoplasm meant that not only could Danny use them without causing interference, but they were now some of the most secure lines of communication on earth. There went his plan to keep his family out of it.

"Just some unfinished business," Danny replied, trying to sound unbothered. "The hostiles have been apprehended, and there are no injuries. We're good to continue patrolling."

Dick eyed him skeptically.

"Absolutely not. Turn in for the night you two, we'll debrief at the end of patrol," was Batman's stern order.

"No way, more are bound to show up-"

"Which is why you'll need to teach us how to fight them. We'll need you level headed for that, Phantom. Head back to the cave. We'll talk later."

Danny pouted. He could be level headed and still finish patrol! He could! At least that's what he told himself while he clenched his fists to stop them from shaking. Dick put a comforting hand on his shoulder. It was cold.

"Why don't we have Agent A make us some hot chocolate and we'll tuck in for a movie while we wait for the others," he suggested. The ghost searched his brother's face, seeing concern even underneath his domino.

"Fine," Danny conceded. "But I get to pick the movie."

By the time the others had gotten back to the manor Danny was curled up on the couch, chilly toes tucked underneath his brother's thigh and hands curled around a warm mug while the credits for James Cameron's Avatar rolled on the TV. Damian reached over the back of the couch and gave Danny's shoulder a squeeze, pulling him from his post hot coco daze. They had a meeting to get started.

~~•○•~~

As everyone settled around the meeting table in the cave, Damian made a beeline to the seat next to Danny. He would never admit to anyone that he'd been jealous that Danny had been sent out with Richard. Logically, he knew there was no real reason for Brother to come with Father and himself. He wasn't getting dethroned as Robin, and he had enough experience that Father could trust Danny out with a patrol partner. Still, he'd wanted to be there for his first experience patrolling as a member of the family. After the events of the evening, he wished even more he'd been there.

He'd heard of this Vlad before, and never in a good light, though he knew nothing more than that Danny did not like him. It was clear he'd been a source of great stress before he had come to them. Damian was frustrated that he couldn't be there to put their assailants in their place. It looked as though Danny had never mentioned Vlad to anyone else. Damian didn't know if he was proud or concerned by that. Instead of voicing his thoughts on the matter, he leaned in close to Danny's ear to whisper.

"Are you sure we're not blood related?" Damian asked with a smirk.

"What?" Danny whispered back, confused.

"When you were questioning the, what were they, birds? You sounded like Father." Danny turned to blink at him, trying to process the comment. "It is a compliment, Danny."

"Oh!"

"What are you two whispering about?" Tim asked from across the table. He'd leaned one hand onto the table with the other on his hip like an amused mother who'd caught her children conspiring.

"It's none of your concern, Drake." Danny chuckled and shrugged at him, miming zipping his lips shut.

"Alright, mission report, Phantom," Bruce interrupted, approaching the table and throwing a folder down. "What was tonight about?" Danny took a deep breath to keep himself calm.

"An old thorn in my side. The vulture ghosts were sent by a guy who used to bother me back in Amity Park. Had this crazy idea that if he killed my family, he could have me all to himself as some little heir to his evil empire. Seems he heard about my adoption."

Bruce frowned deep at that. So he was a threat to be concerned about. Good thing he'd done some research on ghost weapons then. He tapped the folder.

"If he'll be sending more ghosts to attack us, then we need to know how to fight them. I've taken the liberty of doing some research on weaponry. DalvCo is willing-"

"Absolutely not!" Danny stopped him short. Bruce barely stopped himself from groaning. It had been a long night, and now was not the time to be argumentative.

"We need weapons. This isn't up for discussion."

"That wasn't a request, Bruce. As High King of the Infinite Realms, I forbid my family from doing business with DalvCo and, subsequently, Vlad 'Plasmius' Masters, who owns it." Bruce's face contorted with understanding after his words. The others were quick to catch on. He heard Dick grumble about how the name wasn't even clever, and it made Danny smirk.

"Besides," Danny continued, a sly grin overtaking his face. His teeth were a little too sharp in his mouth. "I have a much better plan. Tim, how do you feel about mad science?"

Tim's eyes gleamed, and his grin, teeth less sharp and far more human, matched Danny's.

"You can build weapons?" Damian guessed next to him. Danny glowed with pride.

"Of course I can, I'm Daniel Fenton-Wayne, after all!"

~~•○•~~

Meanwhile, in Soupland

"I told you we shoulda just told him what was up, then got outta there."

"How was I supposed to know he was gonna ice you two?"

"Oh, please, the ice was tame. He souped us! He said he doesn't have access to a portal and he souped us!"

"That's what we get for threatening someone close to our King."

"Exactly, we shouldn'ta done that. We're too old for this!"

"I may be old, but I'm not deaf. Stop shouting in my ear, loud mouth!"

"Well, then get your wing outta my face, flabby feathers!"

"In case you haven't noticed, IT'S FROZEN!"

"We coulda been on a tropical southern island by now if it weren't for that Plasmius jerk pitting us against Phantom."

"Yeah!"

"Yeeaah!"

"We should work for the King from now on."

[gotham-daydreams]

Could you do a part 2 of Not Tonight, maybe like when they all start to realize that reader is gone?

Since I'm already working on this (and about half way done with it), for now I'll give a little sample of pt. 2 while I still work on the main post. Hope that's okay! Also yes, the actual part 2 is going to be/already is much longer than what is given here.

Also also, small but kind of obvious spoiler; they all do, in fact, realize that the reader is gone. They are not going to be okay, among some other things.

Nothing too much here warning wise, just a bit of angst (of course), and Bruce just, realzing that neglect- believe it or not, doesn't exactly keep you up to date on what your kid is up to, or make you very involved in their life. Who could've guessed?

Though for a bit of context, yes this is still taking place in the Manor, and no our little bat friend is not aware that the Reader is no longer living in the manor during this point in time.

First part.

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

Bruce didn't feel much better by the time he reached your room. It took him mistakenly stumbling into two guest rooms before he finally reached it, and honestly he felt more regret over that alone.

Most of this time he hardly remembered that this room before him now was even occupied, let alone that you had claimed it as yours. What didn't help was that it was only now that he remembered introducing this space as your own, and yet it had forgotten that small detail so fast.

Regardless, Bruce just pushed that all to the side as he knocked on the door, taking in a breath.

"Y/n?" He called out, only to get no respose. So he tried knocking again, but he still got nothing.

Sure, he was getting a little confused but just pushed that to the side with everything else as he stared down at your door knob.

... Should he?

He had to talk with you eventually, especially considering what he just figured out and how little he actually knew about you. He needed to talk with you. He couldn't just let this slide, not with what he knew now. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

So, be tried the knob, and was kind of surprised that it was unlocked. Though besides that little strange detail, he gently pushed open the door, and took a peak inside.

Oh. You weren't even here...

Bruce didn't know how to feel about that.

Regardless of that, however, he opened up the door a little wider, and stepped inside. What he saw only made him more confused, but also so much worse when he looked all over the room. How could this be...?

Various things were on your desk, shelves, and hung on the walls. Your room looked surprisingly clean, but honestly Bruce doesn't know what he was expecting. After all, he didn't even know your exact age or hardly anything about you, and even then — by the looks of things, he had missed out on so much more than he originally thought.

Trophies, awards, medals, and certificates were littered about your room. The very sight of them made the paper in Bruce's hands feel so much heavier, and yet he still held onto it as he further inspected the awards, and few pictures hung on your walls.

[....]

All of these awards — they were only the finishing products of what you had spent all of your time doing. They were only small glimpses into the person who truly were, and as Bruce looked at the records you had hung on the wall, he could feel his own regret spilling out of his bleeding heart.

He wish he was there with you.

He wish that he had been there to see you even get half of these rewards that you undoubtedly deserved. He wish he got to hear the music you played, and what kind of songs you wrote. He wish he had been there to see you go on, and work your way up, with him being there as your support, and yet...

He had missed everything.

[...]

Bruce missed it all. Every little thing.

... He had to find you.

No if's or but's this time. No more excuses. He had to find you. Bruce needed to.

[cryoux]

Wanderer x reader - Dream Invasion

(Sorry for using The Wanderer Picture of all time)

The Wanderer was a little exasperated now.

It seemed you couldn't go a few minutes without wandering off out of sight - which was ironic, considering who was named 'the Wanderer'.

"Where the hell did you-" he stopped short once he rounded the large tree, seeing his traveling companion laying on the ground. This wasn't the time for a nap, for Celestia's sake! He approached you, ready to give you a rude awakening, but quickly realized that something was horribly wrong.

Shivers wracked your body, and he could hear your body fighting for air with every breath. The Wanderer found himself kneeling next to you, scanning your form with wide eyes to locate the culprit of these symptoms.

The most frustrating part was that he couldn't find anything. With you unconscious and no visible wounds, the Wanderer had no hope of diagnosing the problem. His mind raced with possibilities, but none of them made any sense, and nothing fit. What should he even do? It had been 5 minutes ago that he last saw you, fit and healthy, and now you were struggling to keep yourself alive.

"You are not going to betray me like this." He growled, directing his panic into anger, but that didn't give him any more of a solution.

Then he heard footsteps. Two sets of footsteps. Oh, great. The very last thing he needed was strangers stumbling upon them - he didn't want to take his attention off of you for even a moment. Nevertheless, when a bush rustled and produced two individuals, the Wanderer brought his violet eyes up to examine them closely.

Wait a minute.

He recognized these two.

That one, with the green hair and magenta eyes - she'd been another one of Dottore's wretched experiments, hadn't she? He could have sworn he'd seen her somewhere, whether in person or in a file he could not seem to recall.

And the other, with the massive ears and bushy tail, well, that was the one he had happened to strike with lightning in a show of power. Awkward.

Of course, neither of these people had any way of knowing exactly who he was. In fact, the one-sided recognition was finally working in his favor.

Upon seeing your state, the man -Wanderer had never bothered to learn his name- ordered his subordinate to stay behind him, and he approached with cautious purpose.

"Hey, my name is Tighnari. I'm a forest ranger from Gandharva Ville, and your friend isn't looking too good. If you'd just allow me to-"

"No!" The Wanderer shouted as he saw the forest watcher reach for you. Of course he didn't trust this guy, he'd just walked out of a bush and apparently felt chivalrous enough to help a stranger. It was too kind to be true.

The forest ranger stopped with a frown. "If I may, they really need some help, and quickly-"

"No, we don't need your help! Get lost!" The Wanderer snapped, his hand protectively curled around your wrist.

"Sir, I don't care what you need, I'm more concerned about the fact that your friend here had a run-in with that cherry laurel over there," the scholar retorted with unexpected sass, then gesturing to an unassuming bush, "and they need medical attention!"

A tense staredown took place between them, both parties equally as stubborn in getting their way. The green-haired girl was the one who managed to break the silence, though she sounded laughably timid.

"Please trust Master Tighnari!" She squeaked, trying her hardest to alleviate the tension. While she failed, the Wanderer still managed to look at her, then at Tighnari, then down to you - who was noticeably worse than just a minute ago. His brow furrowed. He did not trust these people at all, and he hated having to back down from any sort of confrontation, but… you really weren't looking good. And if you left him, the wandering puppet felt that he would finally shatter for good.

So, after scowling to himself and convincing his head and (metaphorical) heart to compromise, he brought his gaze back up to this 'Tighnari'.

"...fine." the Wanderer conceded, allowing his worry pricking through his defenses and helping dictate his actions. "What do we do."

"At this stage, I need to give her an intravenous antidote. I can take her back to Gandharva Ville," the forest watcher reached for your shuddering body, and the Wanderer narrowed his eyes at him as he pulled you even closer. Tighnari backed off, though irritation sparked in his eyes. "Or you can. Just keep up, got it? She's running out of time."

With a nod, the Wanderer scooped you into his arms, holding you as he rose to his feet. He absolutely hated needing help from anyone, but you somehow meant more to him than his stupid pride.

Tighnari led the way, and the green-haired girl attempted to take up the rear - after a withering glare from the Wanderer, though, she popped back up to her colleague. The group rushed through the forest, and by the time they reached the little village in the canopy, your shuddering had increased considerably.

The moment they stepped into one of the huts, Tighnari sprung into action. Orders were given, supplies were retrieved, but none of that really mattered to the Wanderer. He set you down on the one bed in the little hut, and gently brushed some dirt off of your cheek. He didn't care where he was, who he was with, or what situation he'd gotten himself into, all he cared about was the one in front of him.

"Please," he murmured, as if you would wake up with his willpower alone. But he had learned that no matter how hard he wished, the world was cruel, and existed only to laugh at him.

"Please, don't leave me. I'll rewrite Irminsul itself to get you back. I swear it." The Wanderer allowed himself this moment of weakness, though he buried it once more the second Tighnari approached.

It was difficult for the watcher to work around the Wanderer's possessive behavior, but he managed to insert the IV anyways, then breathing a sigh of relief and giving the Wanderer a small jar and spoon.

"I've given them the antidote, and I'll take out the IV in twenty minutes. In that jar is activated charcoal, it'll help flush the poison from their system. Just have them swallow some, whenever you can." Tighnari instructed, standing from his stool and gesturing for the Wanderer to take a seat instead. "Do you need anything for your stress? I have several herbal teas that can help calm you."

The Wanderer opened his mouth to retort with a no, how dare you assume he's stressed, he's perfectly fine without your stupid tea! But ultimately thought better of it. This guy had just saved you, after all, and he was due for some appreciativeness. Just maybe not so much from the Wanderer.

"...I suppose." He kept his eyes trained on his companion, even as he heard the forest watcher leave and close the leaf shade door behind him.

Silence overtook the room. Much to his relief, your breathing had slowed down significantly, and your horrible quivering had reduced to a minimal amount. The Wanderer recalled the instructions he'd been given, and he let out a sigh. What a nuisance this all was.

The Wanderer opted to pull the blanket up to your chin, then froze. You looked almost... peaceful, in this state. It was strange for him to nurse you like this, he realized, a second before he realized that he was now just staring at you. With a huff, he turned around and buried his flushed face in his hands.

"Damn you." He muttered to you in his moment of weakness, fighting to control the blush on his face. Caring for you was the priority - he needed to curb his personal feelings for now.

After several minutes of silence filled only by his own rush of thoughts, a knock sounded at the door. Wanderer looked up, only to see that grassy-haired girl yet again. She looked so nervous, he suspected she may just pass out on the spot.

"H-hi there! I'm Collei, a trainee forest ranger… I brought some clothes for them and, uh, tea for you. I-I'll just set it here, see you!" For being on her own territory, she was ridiculously skittish. As she ducked back out the door, he failed to find any good reason why his ex-ally had bothered experimenting on such a weak-willed individual.

The sugar and honey presented on the platter made the Wanderer scrunch his nose in disdain, rolling his eyes before picking up the piping hot cup and sniffing it. The tea was an aromatic green, with hints of mint reaching past the stark scent of the tea leaves. It was, decidedly, not tampered with, not that it would matter; the Wanderer took a sip and was pleased to confirm that it was, in fact, just tea.

He savored the tea over some time, allowing the bitter green to ground him as he watched your form intently. There was noticeably more life in your skin, and your shaking had reduced almost entirely. Now he just needed you to wake up, damnit!

The Wanderer set down his empty cup with a massive sigh. How could he have let something like this happen? Truly pathetic - he couldn't even keep an eye on the one person he held dearest, and the sense that this was all his fault clung to him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, as if you would wake up by the power of his rare remorse. Hah, yeah right. The world would never be so kind as to do what he wanted it to. He found himself leaning down towards you, reaching out to rest a hand against yours - only to tear it away like your radiance had burned him. How dare he attempt to sully you with his cursed touch? The very notion of having direct contact with you made him ill, though only towards himself, not at all directed to you.

The Wanderer hated that he felt this way. He hated the fuzzy feeling that took hold of him when you were near, practically stupefying him. Oh, how pathetic he felt, gone from being a feared Fatui Harbinger to a clueless, lovesick wanderer. While his Fatui days were retired for good, he still wished he didn't feel quite so… airheaded. Maybe he even wished he couldn't feel at all.

Rays of sun shattered through his melancholy as the door opened, and the Wanderer practically leapt back into his stool near the bed. Tighnari was back now, sighing to himself like he had more work to do than even the most studious scholar. "Well, let's see how they are," he approached the IV drip first, then followed the line to the person it was connected to. Following a short physical assessment, Tighnari nodded to himself.

"You're in luck! They're doing very well. But I would advise staying put for at least a few days. Those plants can really mess with someone. Ask for me if you need anything, I'll be back later." The forest watcher said, removing the IV from you and quickly exiting the little hut.

Whether he left quickly out of consideration or antisociality, Wanderer wasn't sure. But it didn't much matter when he turned back around to you. Maybe he could hold your hand, and explain that he was just checking your temperature. Or stilling your tremors. It could have been an accident! So much consideration put into an act that he doubted he was even brave enough to pull off.

A soft muttering shocked him back into the present, and he looked to you with owlish eyes. You were still asleep, he found, but you were growing restless, a deep frown over your features that he loathed to see. Were you relapsing? No, this was a different disturbance. Maybe you were having a nightmare? He couldn't quite confirm, but it sure seemed like it. The way your eyes darted back and forth under your eyelids was the biggest indicator, until he heard your increasingly distressed whimpers and witnessed your now panicked twitching. But what could he do? He was no stranger to nightmares, but it wasn't like anybody had ever comforted him through them. Normally he'd just reason through it, but he couldn't exactly reason with someone who was unconscious. Could he still enter your consciousness with the remnants of his divine power? Shit… he could try. All it would take...

Was physical contact. Unbelievable.

Taking a deep breath in and situating himself comfortably, the Wanderer reached out to grasp your hand in his own before he could second guess himself any more. Your hand was warm, he couldn't help but think as he closed his eyes, and even as he took his consciousness and sought after yours. After connecting with it, he opened his eyes, only to see darkness. No, did he fail? Was that feat beyond his power now?

A sob halted all trains of thought and motion throughout him. Slowly, he turned around, only to see you, knelt on the ground as crystalline tears fell from your eyes. No.

Ignoring your thoughts now voiced in the back of his own mind, he blinked - this time, there was grass under his feet, and a glittering starry sky as far as he could see. The scenery was quite beautiful, all things considered. But the only beauty he concerned himself with was the one crying in front of him.

Tentatively, the Wanderer reached out a hand to rest on your head. He was never good at comforting people, and he wasn't going to pretend he could be, but he could at least mimic the actions he'd seen others do when faced with similar situations.

He didn't dare speak, only allowing the weight of his hand on your head to communicate his presence. Eventually, you wiped away a set of those tears and looked up to see just who had joined you.

"Oh. It's you." You said, though whether you thought it a good or bad thing he couldn't quite tell. You sniffled pathetically, in a way that hurt his soul itself, and a wave of memories flooded his mind. Sorrow, anger, betrayal… your past grievances were not unlike his own, he discovered.

"Why are you…" he trailed off, not sure whether to acknowledge the situation or not. You only sighed, focusing on controlling your voice.

You shook your head. "It doesn't matter." A lie. It did matter, your thoughts inadvertently told him. "You can stop pretending to comfort me." The Wanderer frowned.

"I'm not pretending."

Your eyes went wide, only for you to return to normal just as quickly. "Right. You're the version my brain conjured to cheer myself up, of course you would be different."

He yearned to tell you it was real, that he was here, but that felt like far too much explanation. Besides, if you only saw him as a figment of your imagination, then…

He could do things he'd never dare entertain otherwise.

Finally, he chose to ignore the comment, pulling your body up to stand with ease. As much as the tears pained him, he still found them so, so pretty. Just like every other bit of your existence. How pathetic he sounded.

Reaching his hands up to your head was a tentative motion, and slowly, he cupped his hands around your face, allowing his thumbs to brush away any straggling teardrops. If it were anyone else, he would have drawn away in disgust, washing his hands raw to rid himself of the germs. But you weren't anyone else. You were yourself, and that was truly all he needed you to be.

His uncharacteristic actions no longer confused you, now that you had remembered your dream state. Instead, you figured this was what you wished for every waking hour, manifesting in your dreams yet again.

The Wanderer raised an eyebrow. Again? Had you dreamed of him before? That would explain why you'd greeted him so comfortably, but it felt a little too conceited for himself to assume.

You seemed to be deeply considering something. Desperately, more than anything else in the imaginary world right now, you wanted to touch your Wanderer. To feel his porcelain unmarred skin underneath your fingertips, to gaze into the violet depths of his eyes, to run your hands through his silky hair, knock his hat off, and pull him in close-

Wait, what? You wanted to do what?!

Quickly, to avoid letting you see his rapidly forming blush, the Wanderer pulled you into his chest in a hug. His head rested on your shoulder, arms encircling your body, and now he couldn't tell if the fluttering in his chest was his own or merely a transmission from you.

He was practically gaping in his shock. No way, there was no way he'd just seen that in your thoughts. It couldn't have been from his own mind, could it? While it was unlikely, he couldn't dismiss the possibility, so he attempted to calm his -or your- racing 'heart'.

After a long while, the equilibrium was broken, and you pulled away from the embrace. The Wanderer, though, held you tight, unwilling to let you go.

It appeared you wanted to stay close as much as he did, because you once again rested your head on his chest, reaching out to fidget with the anemo vision he'd so oddly received. While it was just a hunk of metal and glass, he found it akin to you toying with his very own heart, tantalizing him with your warm perfection.

"Forgive me, dream-wanderer. I don't think I can hold myself back anymore."

Your words confused him, and he looked at you with a purely puzzled expression until you straightened up, looked him in the eyes, and-

His own eyes went impossibly wide. Through sheer shock, he felt his chest explode with feelings he'd known before, and others he would never hope to identify. It scared him, it exhilarated him, and most of all it pleased him, far too much. Tears threatened to fall from his own eyes, so he squeezed them shut and redirected his mind to the situation at hand. However fake you thought this was, he didn't care as your lips pressed against his own.

You pulled away all too soon for his liking, and he jolted from his daze to bring you back, this time with fervor. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve you. You were everything, all the things he could never be and all the things he wanted, placed into one individual at one point in time. How dare he allow himself this moment of happiness, after no less than three betrayals? As lovely as your touch, your scent, you were, he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve you.

These thoughts plagued his mind even as you pulled away for air, manifesting themselves as tears welling up along his eyes. Damnit, he was really going to cry over something like this?

Yes. Yes he was. But hopefully not right now, if he could help it.

"You need to wake up." The Wanderer prompted, trying to get himself under control.

You sighed, seeming forlorn. "I know. But I just want a little longer with you."

He wanted to reassure you that he'd have you as long as you'd have him, that he would always welcome you into his life - but that would be giving too much away. You could never find out what had truly happened here in your dream.

But oh, would he treasure the memory. The feeling of being so close to you, the elation that took hold of him when you'd kissed him - you had kissed him!

The Wanderer let his arms remain around you as he nuzzled into your neck, unable or unwilling to care about his rather expensive hat tumbling to the ground. Well, it was still technically a dreamscape. Any damage done wouldn't be permanent. So many less than pure thoughts entered his mind the moment he realized this, but he wouldn't allow anything to taint this moment between you two.

Sighing into your neck, he whispered into your ear: "Wake up. Don't be so afraid to lose me; you'll find I'm much closer than you might think." The shiver his proximity pulled from you was satisfying, but he did need you to wake up soon. Any longer in this dream would result in him possibly losing his mind entirely, devoting himself to your affections in a way he long since swore he'd never do for another.

Finally, he allowed himself to slip out of your consciousness, returning to his own body and straightening out his appearance. His body had practically used you as his pillow during his time in your mind, and he was so grateful nobody had come barging in to witness such a thing.

A slight change in breathing patterns alerted him to your awareness as you awoke, eyelids heavy as you tried to take in your surroundings. The Wanderer waited patiently as your eyes traced the patterns in the ceiling, the panes of the window, and eventually came to rest on him. He wanted to brag to the sun and moon themselves that he was the one getting your undivided attention, and wanted to make even the heavens above jealous.

I don't deserve this.

"Hm...?" You made a small, dreary sound, adjusting yourself to the completely unfamiliar surroundings. Almost completely; you would recognize your dear Wanderer anywhere.

"Took you long enough." The Wanderer scoffed, crossing his arms and relaxing his muscles, as if he hadn't been on the edge of his seat and the verge of panic since you'd been afflicted. "Get enough beauty sleep, your highness?"

Though it was meant with sarcastic and snide intentions, the 'pet name' made your breath catch as your stomach was invaded by butterflies. Or was it the toxins? You couldn't be too sure.

"What-" upon hearing your scratchy voice, you paused and cleared your throat, though it didn't solve the problem. The Wanderer was already holding out some water to you, and you took it gratefully. "What happened?"

Well, he supposed he should start at the beginning. "I lost sight of you, and the next time I saw you, you were unconscious on the ground. Do you mind explaining that?" He fused some irritation to his tone, hopefully disguising the genuine worry he'd felt.

"I…" You reached desperately for any strands of remembrance, only to be blocked by a heavy fog over your mind. Frustrated, you let out a groan. "I don't remember! Damnit, I can't remember any of it."

Now that was almost comical. All of that, and you couldn't even remember how it had started? The world really could be a dangerous place, apparently.

With a sigh, the Wanderer took it upon himself to fill in the empty space between then and now. He relayed how he'd found you, how the infamous Tighnari assisted you, and how your treatment had been administered. You remained quiet throughout the story, whether from respect or weariness he wasn't sure.

"He removed the IV and left, saying if we needed further assistance we could ask." He snorted at this. "As if!"

Now you rolled your eyes. "Don't be such an ass. He saved my life, the least you could do is be civil."

"I have been civil, thank you very much." He huffed, offended that you'd even assume he would be anything less than cordial. "Good to see your lack of faith in me is still intact."

Your lack of faith was not unwarranted, though. The story as he told it had been incomplete. Fearing your reaction, fearing your perception of him, he had omitted his exploration of your consciousness entirely. As far as you knew, it was merely a conjured scene from your own imagination, and your feelings remained unrequited and unacknowledged. But that didn't feel fair, did it?

Since when did he care about fairness? Did you really like him, or did you like the version of him you'd constructed in your mind? Not that he'd ever change himself for somebody, he was merely curious.

Good grief. Nobody had advertised just how difficult these cursed things called 'emotions' could be.

[mjlovescm]

Snapshot, Argyle 🍋

A/N: idk if this is really nsfw but it contains- kissing, lap sitting/grinding, lingerie, 

“Okay, and when you take photos, put this on your neck so you won't drop it.”

“I’m not gonna.” 

Jonathan ignores Argyle’s words and continues to warn his friend about the importance of being careful. 

“Argyle,” Jonathan says cautiously, “what do you really need it for? Whatever it is, I can just take the photos for you and say I helped you with it.”

He suggests, for the fourth time today, just to be shut down again by his best friend. 

“Sorry man.”Argyle's hand is firm on Jonathan's shoulder. “There’s some things only I can do. Trust me.”

It was one of the many very vague responses he’d been receiving from the long-haired man. Useless attempts at easing Jonathan's worries when it came to Argyle using his camera for reasons that keep changing. First it was “curiosity,” then personal reasons. When those didn’t work, he landed on a random “project.”. Although none of it made real sense, Jonathan trusted his friend, for better or worse. 

“Okay,” he says with a huff. “I trust you.”

“Thank you man y/n’s pics are gonna turn out great.”

Jonathan smiles at the thought before really taking  in Argyle’s words.

“Isn't this for a work thing ?”

Argyle is silent before spewing nonsense to cover his tracks. 

“Thanks for the camera man, have it to you by monday!” 

Long distance at any age is difficult. But doing long distance as high school sweethearts going to separate colleges was rough. With the large transition, stress, and distance of college, you and Argyle worried how your relationship would survive. Rather than ponder the survival rate of your relationship, you searched for ways to keep it alive regardless of your location. 

Letters, mixtapes, and over-the-phone dinners were on the long list of long-distance activities. But anything involving sex was number one. Dirty letters were too prison-style; mixtapes would only put us in sexually frustrated moods; and phone sex started way back in junior year. But an idea the two of you never considered was dirty photos as keepsakes. 

The lingerie store at your local mall had peaked your interest the moment you stumbled upon it. But it wasn't until now that you had a real reason to shop there. A sexy photo shoot was the perfect opportunity.

“Don’t you think lace is a little advanced.” Argyle comment’s trailing behind you like a lost puppy. “I don’t want us to get too ahead of ourselves.”

“Advanced how?” you questioned your boyfriend. 

“Not in a bad way,” he’s quick to clarify. “I just- I don’t think my pictures will look as good as yours. I wanna give you something steamy to hold onto.”

You stop and turn to look at your boyfriend with a sweet, teasing smile. 

“Argyle, just because you’re paying doesn't mean I’m the only one getting something,” you assure him. “I told you I wanted us to match.”

“I’m paying?” 

“Yep and we're getting matching pajamas.”

After many hours at the mall you left carrying a hefty amount of bags and the two of you made your way to your home. 

But back in your bedroom, you weren't feeling as sexy as you did prior. Now that you were face-to-face with a camera and your boyfriend's eyes, the last thing you wanted was to be seen. 

A knock at the bathroom door makes you jump out of your exposed brown skin. 

“Baby I think I got the hang of this thing.” 

“T-that's good,” you paused, your mind elsewhere. “Can you get me the pajamas? I’m not ready for any pictures.”

“O-oh okay… you all good in there?”Argyle asks with a soft voice. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lie. 

Your words say one thing but your body language speaks for itself. While Argyle worked out the kinks of the camera you found yourself stuck in your head. Suddenly hyper aware of the brown skin that was present and exposed under the matching set you had on. The change in mood is apparent to your boyfriend, who knew exactly how to fix it. 

“Before we start…” he sets the camera down and rummages through his jean pockets for something. “A little party starter?”Argyle smiles and shows you a few pre-rolled joints. 

Your smile quickly matches his, and soon smoke and smiles fill the space between the two of you. While you light the joint, Argyle picks up Jonathan's camera. 

“Smile, baby,” he says, pointing the lens at you. 

“Hey,” you say as the flash hits your eyes. “I thought we were taking sexy photos.”

“Trust me.”Argyle says almost more to himself than you, voiced laced with something.

“These are very sexy.”

“Oh yeah.” you match his newfound tone. “What about it?”

With the joint pressed to your lips and light in hand, you take a few drags. Exhaling you blow the smoke at the camera, Argyle's eyes light up along with the flash from the camera. 

You and your boyfriend take your time to smoke. Enjoying each other's presence and bodies, along with taking photos. As the weed settled into your system, your nerves slipped away, confidence and sexuality replacing them. 

“Don't you think that's a little close?”Argyle asks as you sit in his lap, a camera in your face. 

You ignore his question, pushing the camera aside and kissing Argyle without a word. A small sound leaves him, and you follow suit. Plump lips move against each other slowly, taking time to enjoy the feel of the soft skin. Argyle's large arms wrap around your body, pulling you closer and intensifying the kiss. 

“You- look so-”

Argyle attempts to speak with his lips still on yours but his words come out muffled. Wrapping your hands around his neck you ran your fingers through Argyle’s long hair as your hips began to move against his lap. Although his words don't break the two of you apart, the sudden flash of Jonathan's camera does. 

“Was that on purpose?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

“Yes,” he lies. “No, you got me excited,” he admitted.

“Aww.” you say with a smile. “Let’s take a few more.” 

You take a few cuter pictures, kissing each other on the cheek, among other places. But it didn't take long for your photo ideas to become less cute and more sexy. 

“Hmm, that's a good angle.” 

“Oh yea.” you say as you get on your knees before running your hand over the lingerie containing Argyle’s erection. 

You press your face to Argyle's bulge before kissing his tip. The two of you are too lost in the moment to remember Jonathan's important advice when it came to taking pictures. 

Argyle's clumsy fingers lose grip before he realizes.

“Oh shit baby.” 

Argyle's attempt at a warning is useless. You're smacked in the face with Jonathan's camera, and you immediately yell at the pain. 

“Fuck,” you curse, holding the spot where you've been hit. 

“Oh my god, baby, are you okay?” your boyfriend quickly analyzes your face. 

Once he is sure you’re fine, Argyle is quick to pick up Jonathan's camera, inspecting it for anything. A crack, scratch, or broken piece. Thankfully, Jonathan's prized possession was left unscathed, and for it to stay, that meant this photoshoot was over. 

“Told you your camera was safe with me man.” 

Argyle takes the camera off his neck and hands it back to its owner.

“Don't worry, I’ll develop them for you.” Jonathan offers. 

“No!”Argyle says with wide eyes. “These are for uhh my eyes only,” he says, plastering a smile onto his nervous face.

Masterlist Sweet and Sour Silky Smooth, 🍋

[marshallpupfan]

I'm about to make yet another lengthy post... easily my longest yet. This time, it's not about the movies or any issues I have with PAW Patrol in its current state. No, it's instead about a problem I've been dealing with... except said problem is less a what and more of a who. I'm sure some of you already know about this, but for those of you that don't, let me tell you about a person who's been a thorn in my side for three years now.

Back in October of 2020, I encountered a user who seemed to be doing the whole Daily Marshall Pics as me. However, I soon discovered they weren't just doing the same thing... they were actually using the exact screenshot I posted, the exact same hashtag, and quite often, the exact same text. They did this for every daily I posted... or just any picture, really. As soon as I'd post something, they'd immediately take it and repost it onto their account. At the time, I didn't know what to do, or if I could do anything.

Cut to around December of the same year, and I decided to make a new winter-themed avatar and banner for my Twitter account. Less than a day later, that user seen I did that and... no joke... took both and applied them to his own account. Suddenly, with him posting the exact same content with the exact same avatar and banner, his account looked exactly like mine. Some people even admitted they thought he WAS me, and a few were starting to get seriously confused. At this point, I started referring to him as my copycat, since anything I'd do or post, he'd do or post it, too.

However, this time, I confronted the user and asked him why he took my new avatar and banner. He claimed he liked them so much, he had to use them. I asked him not to, telling him that I put a lot of work into making something unique for myself, and of course, he got mad... and then, in the same reply, asked me to make something for him. Just to be nice, I made him a banner... to which he offered no gratitude.

He wouldn't change the avatar, so I created myself a new one. Not even a day later, the exact moment he seen it, he took that avatar and applied it to his account, too. Yet again, I confronted him, demanding to know why he'd do that, as well as why he didn't even thank me for making that banner I made for him. He responded by claiming that I "made him cry"... and then quickly asked me to make him an avatar, too. I ignored his request.

Near the middle of December, a pal here on Tumblr messaged me about a concern he had. He made a text post about his plans to start his own daily pics, and that user on Twitter, now on Tumblr, copied and pasted his exact post onto his own account. If he copied all of my posts, he was surely going to do the same to my pal, too. We knew we had to put a stop to this, so we came up with a solution...

On December 18, 2020, I posted my first Daily, with text indicating it was mine. We were both curious to see how that copycat would react once he seen it.

He... didn't take it well.

This was actually his fifth message; he left four other ones, mere minutes apart from each other. When I didn't reply back after ten minutes (yes, ten minutes), he said this to me. Once I seen this, I blocked him, as anyone honestly would. He quickly followed me with some alternate account of his, but I found out it was him and blocked it, too. Afterwards, I figured this was going to be end of it; just another rude, childish person on Twitter, blocked and out of my life...

...right?

Nope. Ever since that day, he's been absolutely furious with me. Even to this day, he's refuses to let it go, and his copycat tendencies and attitude has only grown worse. Ah, but let's not get ahead of ourselves... no, there's more to the story. A lot more...

To say the least, when he left that message above and found out I blocked him, he started bad-mouthing me to many other people. Just about everyone took my side, and much to my surprise, Twitter banned him. At first, that seemed like the end of it again... but nope, he simply created another account not even a half-hour later... and he went back to using my avatar and banner again, because of course.

Less than a month later, another account started following me, this time themed around Chase. Suspiciously, I was one of the first it followed... and one of the first replies they left on my tweets?

"Can you remove your watermarks?"

Gee, I wonder who this might be? I ignored the message, and their third reply was... well, I'm sure you can guess it wasn't friendly.

I blocked this account, too. Again, I hoped this would be the end of it, but of course, it wasn't. You see, the one thing I learned about this user is that he's incredibly lazy. He doesn't want to do things in Photoshop or go hunting for pictures, so he just wants to take everything from me... and the official PAW Patrol account (he constantly reposts their content, too). When I stopped him from doing that, he became hostile. When I refused to remove my watermark, it just made things worse.

I don't have a picture of this, but a few days later, he created yet another account. This time, he pretended to be the "second official PAW Patrol account", using the actual PAW Patrol account's avatar and banner at the time (themed after Moto Pups, if I recall correctly). Naturally, I'm the first one he went to, and he left a reply on my latest daily about how I'm going to get into "trouble" if I don't stop being mean. I tore into him for this, telling him that no one will take his side, Twitter will just ban his account again, and to leave me alone.

He deleted the account less than a day later.

Things remained quiet for some time... or so I thought. From what others told me, he kept trying to get everyone to turn on me, usually by sending private messages to many users in the hopes of getting them to see me as some sort of bully. His plan failed, as nothing ever came out of it. Maybe it has to do with the fact I like trying to be positive and encouraging, and many of my followers have seen that over the years... whereas he's screamed at people for simply putting stickers on their Nintendo Switch. No, seriously... he has.

He kept trying, of course... often asking other users to tell me how "sorry" he was, despite the fact he kept leaving me nasty remarks the very same day. In fact, at one point, the Nick Jr. Twitter account made a post about asking their followers to post pics of their pets, I did so, Nick Jr. replied to me, and he found out and replied to them by saying "DON'T TALK TO HIM HE'S A BULLY HE'S MEAN TO ME!!!!" Needless to say, they ignored him, too.

This continued for a while, and over the following months, new accounts would pop up every now and then, usually based on certain PAW Patrol characters. They were all ran by him, and of course, I was always the first person he came to... and he'd always ask me to create a new avatar and banner for that account, and then he'd get mad when I either said no or ignored him. After so many accounts, I got tired of constantly blocking him, so when he popped up with yet another Marshall-themed account, I decided to just mute it and let him do or say whatever he wanted.

...He didn't take kindly to that, either. A few months later, he exploded into a fit of rage, claiming that I was being a bully by ignoring him. Let me repeat that; by ignoring him, I was being a bully. Oh, for Pete's sake...

A few folks took his side, but once I explained to them what was going on, most of them understood and apologized (trust me, I harbor no ill will against these folks). Once I made another tweet about the situation, I blocked that user yet again, noticing that he was continuing to badmouth me. I think he ended up deleting his account, telling everyone that's what I apparently wanted (I never once said any such thing, but whatever). I crossed my fingers and prayed that this would finally be the end of it all... but of course, it wasn't.

After a while, he came back with yet another account, only this time, he got a little less lazy. He finally decided to learn how to use a photo editing program... and how did he use his new-found skills? Why, to copy me again, of course!

Indeed, his dailies started to look exactly like mine. And yes, once he discovered the name of the font style I was using, he started using that, too. And it's not just a coincidence that he used the same pic...

As I soon realized, if he knew the exact episode I got my daily from, he'd use the same one. He did this at any opportunity he could, even when I posted a daily based on the first theatrical film.

At this point, some of you probably asking... why? Why's he doing this? Why go to such lengths to copy me? The answer is... I really don't know. He just really wants to be me, I guess.

Anyway, around the beginning of 2022, I created a new template for my Daily Marshall Pics. I'm still using that template now. Of course, when he found out, he got upset and started screaming at me again to make one for him (using another newly-created alternate account to get around me blocking him... which I promptly blocked).

What followed over the next year was the situation getting worse and worse. If I did anything of note, he'd create new accounts to voice his displeasure. If he got banned, he'd create a new account and head straight for me. There was a point where I blocked him, he created a new account, I blocked him, he created a new account... and we did this for eight accounts within a single day. I'm dead serious. Of course, his copycat tendencies just got worse, as his new-found skills in editing started leading him to do stuff like this...

Yup, he started covering my watermark with his own to make it seem like he was the one who made the picture. Oh, and it didn't just stop at pictures... nope, he did it with videos, too.

Actually, Twitter banned him for this one... and yes, he created a new account immediately afterwards again, and continued doing and posting the exact same things like it never happened. And I'm the first person he tried following, of course. But hey, at least his dailies don't look like mine anymore, right?

Sigh...

And no, it didn't even stop there. He tried to copy my banner, too.

Yes, his avatar shares similarities with mine, too. Funnily enough, a few users came to my defense and tried to get him to change his Daily template to something different so it would no longer look like mine. Surprisingly, he did change it, and I even gave my approval. I was cool with his new template...

...but I guess it didn't get him the attention he wanted, because he went right back to using something that looks exactly like mine again. He's still using it now, much to my annoyance.

The sad thing is, even if I change my template to something else, he'll just inevitably copy it. If I change my avatar and/or banner, he'll copy them, too. If I do anything, he'll copy it. If my followers come to my defense, report him, and he gets banned... he'll just create another account and continue doing the exact same thing anyway.

Oh, and he once made the claim that he's only doing this because he "doesn't know how to". Yes, he said that. He apparently doesn't know how, yet he sure knows how to cover my watermark with his own... and create a template that looks like mine. Yup, he's a dirty liar, too.

(Back in 2020, I did try to answer a few of his questions, including what editor I use. Once I told him it costs money, he went silent.)

As a reminder, this has been going on for three years.

I've tried ignoring the user, and it does no good. I've confronted him, and it does no good. I've asked him to stop, and it does no good. I've defended myself, and he acts like he's the victim. I ask him to let his anger go and stop, and he tells me I'm the one who needs to let it go and stop. Others have defended me, and he just whines and claims I'm a bully. And all of this is because I blocked him for leaving a rude reply when he lost his patience after ten minutes.

(By the way, someone confronted him about the whole ten minutes thing. He said it didn't matter, that I should've responded right away. I guess I'm supposed to stop everything I'm doing to reply to him...?)

To tell you all the truth, I've tried to be patient. I've tried to be nice... but after three years, I'm sick of it. This person is psychotic. Even when I block him, he keeps a tight eye on everything I do. He's become so obsessed with me, to the point that he's basically a stalker now. He wants to be me, yet he doesn't possess my skills, and that jealousy has turned to sheer bitterness. And whenever someone takes my side, he becomes aggressive, often creating even more alternate accounts to show he's not happy.

And yet, he thinks he's the victim. He's said before he wants me to stop talking about him, yet he continues taking or copying things from me. And again, when I ask him to stop, he refuses. At this point, I suppose he's only doing this now because he feels justified in doing so. I guess he thinks I need to pay for... what, not replying back after ten minutes? For wanting to be credited for my work when I make unique content and post them on my account? For trying to stop him from lazily reposting the things I post for his own gain?

When I started these MarshallPupFan accounts, I thought I was going to post some pics of a cute, cartoon puppy, make people laugh and smile with some videos, and have a fun time. I never expected I'd run into someone so... crazy. Honestly, I don't even care that he's posting daily pics of Marshall. I've seen others do the same, and I've even liked, replied and followed some of them. I enjoy inspiring others to be creative and share their love for their favorite characters... but why use my exact template? Why try to look exactly like me? Why not try to develop an identity for himself, so his account offers something unique? Instead, he constantly wants to bounce off of me, pretend to be me... and when I or anyone else intervenes, he becomes aggressive.

It's pathetic... and it'll probably go on for another year.

I recently created a new avatar for myself. I put a lot of work into making it something truly unique...but I don't know if I want to put it out there, since the moment I do, he'll inevitably copy it. I also updated the visuals for my Episode Updates pics... and as soon as I reveal it, it's only a matter of time before he copies it, too. And of course, if I or anyone else confronts him, he'll whine and get mad... and continue doing what he's always done anyway.

Truth be told, there are so many other examples of his terrible behavior I could post here... such as when he began hounding me on Youtube and screaming at me whenever he seen a comment I left on other PAW Patrol-themed accounts (to the point the owner of the channel had to intervene and tell him to stop... to which he replied "stop what?"). I have so many more stories to tell, but this post is turning out long enough, and I think I've stressed the point quite well.

It sucks that people like him have to exist, and it's so sad that he refuses to let go of a three year grudge, now going onto four. All I know is that it's getting to the point where I'm tired of it. I'm tired of seeing him use my Daily template, tired of him acting like an absolute crybaby when I defend myself, tired of... well, the whole thing. At this point, maybe I need to start fighting back more, because ignoring him sure isn't getting the job done.

If he's going to insist on using my template, then maybe I shouldn't take it so lightly anymore... 🤔

---

Oh, one last thing. You want to see something funny? He has no problem taking stuff from me, but when someone does that to him... that's just wrong! Maybe someone needs to give him a dose of his own medicine more often... perhaps then he'd show more respect to others.

[platypotoo]

I started watching the show assuming (from pictures and such) that Sydney and C*rmy are the main couple. I didn't even know Richie existed.

But having finished the second season just now, I can't feel anything romantic between Syd and C*rmy. I expected to like them together, even to ship them at least a little. But I just don't.

Syd and Richie on the other hand? Wow.

In season 1, where they absolutely hate each other most of the time, their interactions are already so meaningful:

- The first time that we as viewers see Richie be vulnerable, Syd sees it too.

- His worry whether she is okay after the gunshots. Should be normal between colleagues, but... they used to dislike each other so much...

- When Syd resolves the fight between the gangsters, Richie looks at her in irritation, but also almost... awe? It also makes him actively change at this point already, actively change himself and how he sees certain things.

It's really a testament to the writing of this show, to the complexity of its characters that Richie is such a scumbag in season 1, in some ways saying exactly what you'd expect a guy like him to say, yet he could have been so much worse. He never crosses a certain line. And then in season 2, he becomes so much better.

Their interactions kind of hit me like a freight train - completely unexpected, raw, realistic, extremely emotional, almost forceful.

Thematically, too. The very new one and one of the oldest. At the beginning: always at each other's throats. Fighting, pulling, pushing. Is it possible that they might find peace with each other? Find even more?

The structure of season 2 had the main cast interact less, and since Syd and C*rmy were the ones working most closely together, I was sure that the strange vibes I got between her and Richie would disappear in favour of Syd/C*rmy. But except for the table scene (which I just didn’t read as romantic, more a continuation of Syd's personal arc), there were very few meaningful scenes between Syd and C*rmy.

There weren't many big scenes between Syd and Richie either, but... nobody really expected them to. However, we did get two scenes of weird awkwardness, like they didn’t know how to behave around each other without fighting. (her jumping away when nearly bumping into him! Their weird interaction when she's seeing him in a suit for the first time! "You smell good"?! Wtf? Ultimately it probably means nothing but I can't stop thinking about it!!) And of course the one scene in the last episode, when they are more than amicable colleagues - they are the perfect team without ever training together, same focus, same drive to make things exactly as they should be, helping each other, supporting each other and being impressed by each other.

It's just so weird how Sydrichie completely surprised me. I wouldn't even call it only "chemistry" or something. It's their entire dynamic, the way they made each other madly, almost exaggeratedly emotional in season 1, then went on parallel paths apart from each other - did some soul searching, improved themselves - and ended up as this weirdly perfect force together. I never expected it. I've never seen anything like it.

Right now, I think there's a 50:50 chance that in canon nobody of The Be*r's staff gets romantically involved, or that Syd gets together with M*rcus. No other option is realistic. But I'll be thinking about her with Richie for a good long while.

[stromuprisahat]

With enough delusion, the world's always spinning around you

Siege and Storm- Chapter 17

... says the dirt-poor half-Suli...

(Although perhaps she isn't half-Suli yet...)

This would hit differently if she were written as a believer, not a strictly rational atheist, who mocks faith of others in next books.

Does it mean Zoya truly went through childish deduction of Darkling's action has negative impact on me (and he didn't share his plans with me) -> he wants to destroy the world -> let's support the opposite force (if one turns up) no matter who else it represents?

That's surprisingly fitting description. And coming from Alina of all people!

(The girl has such a potential!)

First of all, Zoya overestimates her importance to others. Even if the Darkling knew her aunt lives in Novokribirsk- and why would he? They weren't particularly close, even though she likes to act as they did- I'm sure his first association with the ?town?'s name is Zoya of all people.

Warning all associates living in Novokribirsk beforehand goes against the point of surprise attack. Sudden ebb of Second Army-related people would certainly NOT raise suspicion...

Second- if we're to work with her memories from KoS- her aunt SURVIVED the Fold only to run towards it (to help others, Zoya claims). Defenceless, unarmed... absolutely stupid. How would an early warning change anything? Either she'd act the same way, or she'd do something even more idiotic, like running around, warning people.

... while I'm the prettiest, best girl around!

Seeing Zoya as arrogant, unreasonably uppity cunt makes me wanna slap her. Looking at her through KoS lances- as some poor, insecure girl hiding underneath... pathetic. She wouldn't be worth lifting my hand.

She should've remain an ordinary middle class, determined to climb up, because she works harder than others, while looking better. There might be a reason, why a Squaller (who secretly darkens her lashes) "never seems to sweat"... average ambitious bitch, who believes she's better than everyone, because she's never been worse.

Free from WHAT?

What exactly is she picturing?

If we accept her child-bride sob story, she KNOWS she's the Crown's property for half of her life. Shouldn't she strive to change that? Shouldn't she at least connect the dots between that and all those dead Grisha she's so successfully ignoring?!

Or is she so attached to the all-consuming Evil her mind turned the Darkling into, she truly believes this is some Quest to stop the Darkness from destroying the World? For a non-believer that would need quite an amount of blind fatalism.