#you’re not going to be normal when you’re raised like that

[xo100]

Where only we exist - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando Norris and his new wife, on their honeymoon, share a quiet dinner under the stars. In awe of her, he realizes that in this moment, nothing else matters but their love.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 664

*:･ﾟ A/N: it’s a little shorter then usual next ones will be normal again!

masterlist / community / request

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The golden hues of the setting sun draped themselves over the intimate rooftop restaurant where Lando Norris sat, entirely captivated. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, his wife, across the candlelit table, her face glowing under the delicate lights that hung from above. She was laughing at something he’d said, though truthfully, he hadn’t been paying attention to the words tumbling out of his mouth; he’d been watching her all night, marveling at how someone so breathtakingly beautiful was now his.

They’d agreed to keep things private when they started dating. A few shared glances in the paddock, maybe a quick smile or two for those who noticed, but most of their relationship was a secret, a hidden joy shared between the two of them. They loved it that way—their little world, untouched by cameras and prying eyes. And even now, on their honeymoon, they were cautious. They’d avoided the busy streets and larger restaurants, choosing this hidden gem above the city’s twinkling lights, hoping for a moment of peace.

But tonight, as she looked back at him with a little smile that had his heart flipping in his chest, Lando found himself caring less and less about keeping their secret.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling, her voice soft with that teasing lilt he loved so much.

“Like what?” he replied, feigning innocence, though the corners of his mouth betrayed him with a small grin. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands, watching her, still in awe.

“Like… I don’t know.” She lowered her gaze for a moment, looking almost shy, though she knew exactly what she was doing, her lips curling into a smile. “Like you’re completely in love or something.”

“Maybe I am,” he said without missing a beat, reaching across the table to lace his fingers with hers. There was a tenderness in his gaze, something deep and unspoken that had always been there but had only grown stronger since the moment he’d said, I do.

Her cheeks flushed under his stare, and she shook her head slightly, the tiniest laugh escaping her lips. “You’re making me blush, baby.”

“And you look stunning when you blush,” he replied, his voice a low murmur, almost as if it were a secret just between them.

They hadn’t been together long before they realized that what they shared was different. Genuine. Effortless. And despite the constant hustle and pressure of his world, she grounded him. With her, he felt safe. He felt home. So tonight, he let himself forget about the paparazzi who might be lurking down on the streets or the speculation that always seemed to follow them.

“Lan, they’re going to catch us if we’re not careful,” she reminded him gently, glancing over her shoulder, ever aware of the possibility of cameras.

“Let them,” he replied softly, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “Let them see how lucky I am. How I’m never letting you go.”

For a moment, the world melted away—the clinking of dishes, the distant hum of city traffic, even the thought of prying eyes. There was only the two of them, hand in hand, with Lando looking at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you,” she whispered, barely audible over the soft jazz playing in the background. But he heard her, and that was enough.

He smiled, squeezing her hand as he leaned across the table, his eyes twinkling with that boyish charm that had first captured her heart. “I love you more. And no camera, no headline, and no crowd will ever change that.”

And as they sat there, sharing soft words and quiet glances, he was reminded of just how deeply he cherished every moment with her. The world outside could wait. Right now, all he cared about was her, and he was content to stay that way forever.

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*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

[fruitageoforanges]

apparently it’s eliarhaegar hours so:

the thing that drives me absolutely nuts about them is how they have so little in common. completely different frames of reference. dorne and king’s landing, the least repressive of the seven kingdoms and the epicentre of westerosi feudalism. a loving family, a family rotten to the core with incest and abuse. the political world, the world of prophecies and doom and dragon blood. they were doomed from the start. they were so, so doomed, they could barely begin to understand each other yet their lives are bound together, and that makes me insane. two completely different worlds colliding and, while they might’ve been able to coexist in each other’s orbit for a while, the collision and the shattering itself are slow, beautiful and inevitable.

[harrywavycurly]

Bruised Knuckles and Baked Goods

Pairing: Killer!Harry x Wife!reader

A/N: This is a little follow up to Lasagna Casserole, where your loving husband Harry is a serial killer and you have no clue, you can find that here if you haven’t read it but even if you don’t read that first you’ll be able to read this and not be missing anything. Just like the last one you won’t get any actual descriptions of Harry killing anyone, you’ll just get little glimpses of things he uses in the process✨

TW: Harry is a serial killer, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, language, slight controlling behavior.

Summary: You asked Harry to stop by the store on his way home because you need to start baking cookies for your neighborhood’s fall festival but you have no idea that he also made a pit stop somewhere else resulting in him coming home late and with some damage done to his hands✨

Harry feels himself instantly start to relax as he pulls into the driveway, the muscles in his shoulders and neck don’t seem to ache as much as they did just a few minutes ago when he catches a glimpse of the light from the lamp on the end table in living room peeking through the curtains letting him know you’re still awake. It’s as if he can finally let out the breath he feels like he’s been holding all night as he puts the car in park before shutting it off, he allows himself a moment to finally look at his hands as they grip the steering wheel.

He’s been avoiding actually looking at them the whole drive home because he hasn’t exactly come to terms with what he’s done quite yet. It’s not that he regrets it or anything but Harry normally isn’t one to do things without a well thought out plan and the help of his longtime partner in crime Mitch, who he knows won’t be happy when he finds out what Harry did and how he went about doing it.

His knuckles on his left hand are red and already starting to bruise while a few have minor cuts on them while his right hand seems to be the one with the most damage, being the one he favors when opting to use his fists as his weapon of choice. There’s a small gash that he managed to get to stop bleeding but he knows it’ll need to get cleaned and bandaged while the skin on his knuckles is red and raw, it’s more stiff and he can already tell it’s going to be a bit swollen and sore tomorrow but nothing he can’t handle. He lifts his hands from the steering wheel and flexes them a few times as a slight smirk fights to form on his face as his mind starts to replay a moment from the evening, but Harry quickly shakes his head not allowing himself to relive it, not yet at least.

Right now all he wants or really needs to do is grab the bag from the passenger seat and head inside so he can see you, the person who makes all the things he’s done during the day or the night in this case seem so unimportant the moment you smile at him because for Harry making you happy will always be the most important thing he ever does. Tonight that meant him stopping at the store on his way home for some eggs and a bag of sugar, does Harry know what you need these things for at eight at night? No, but you’re his wife and also the love of his life so he doesn’t really care about the reason, he just said okay and now here he is with a plastic bag in his hand as he walks through the front door.

“Baby?” He calls out as he drops his keys in the little bowl on the table by the door while he slips his boots off leaving them next to your heels he saw you put on to wear to work this morning. “Sweetheart?” He says as he looks in the living room but just finds an empty couch making him raise an eyebrow as he stands there and takes in just how silent the house sounds.

Harry heads towards the kitchen so he can place the eggs in the fridge and put the sugar on the counter before he continues his search for you. He places a hand on his hip as his other rests on top of the kitchen table, he stands there a moment and just listens, he smiles when he hears the faint sound of humming coming from down the hall. Harry now knows exactly where you’re at and when he looks at his watch on his wrist he can take a guess at what you’re doing, he heads down the hall and stops just a few steps away from the master bedroom where you have the door ajar letting him get the smallest glimpse of you from where he’s standing in the hallway. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed quietly singing to yourself and Harry knows by the way you’re rubbing your hands together that you’re in the middle of applying your lotion, a nightly routine that if he was home when he was suppose to be you’d let him help you with because he loves any excuse to get to touch you.

“Hey baby.” His voice is sweet and not too loud so that it doesn’t startle you as he opens the bedroom door and takes a step inside. He smiles at the grin that takes over your face when your eyes find his, before you can get off the bed Harry is crossing the room and gently placing a hand on the side of your face and giving you a sweet kiss on the lips.

“You’re late.” You mumble when Harry tries to pull away but you quickly reach up and grab onto his shirt pulling him back to you for another kiss.

“Sorry sweetheart.” He says between little pecks to your lips before you finally let him pull away enough so he can look at you, dropping his hand from the side of your face. “I got-”

“What happened?” Harry watches the smile fall from your face as he hears the immediate change in your voice, it’s no longer playful and flirty but now it’s laced with worry and confusion as you take his left hand in both of yours.

“Forgot my gloves at home.” It’s not a complete lie so Harry doesn’t feel as bad as he should when the words effortlessly slip out of his mouth while you tenderly run your soft fingers over the bruised knuckles of his hand.

“This is from the gym?” You question with a quirked brow because while you know your husband enjoys a good and often intense workout the damage to his hand seems a little extreme even for him.

“I had some issues I needed to work out.” He knows you won’t push for more details when he gives you his explanation, you know how he is and that sometimes Harry prefers to talk to a punching bag than to anyone else about what’s bothering him. Harry knows it’s wrong, to use this type of thing against you so he’ll make sure that later tonight when the two of you are in bed and he has you pulled tightly to his chest to tell you a little something that’s been bothering him, something that’ll make you feel as if he’s letting you in on why he felt the need to bust his knuckles up on a punching bag at the gym so that you’ll feel a bit better and not want to bring it up again.

“Let’s get you fixed up.” You say with a small smile as you look up at him and find he’s already looking at you with what can only be described as a look of pure love on his face.

“I don’t deserve you.” You playfully roll your eyes at his words and Harry has to act like he’s just being cute as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead but he means it, he knows he doesn’t deserve you but he also knows he’s far too selfish to ever let you go. “I got your eggs and sugar by the way love. I put them in the kitchen.” He tells you as he takes a step back allowing you to stand up off the bed.

“Oh perfect I need to start making the cookies for the bake sale at the fall festival this weekend-did you remember to tell Mitch about it this time? You know he loves the pumpkin carving contest and he didn’t get to come last year because-”

“Because I got the dates mixed up.” He finishes your sentence for you with a chuckle as he follows you into the master bathroom, the real reason Mitch didn’t get to come last year was because he was busy digging two holes in the middle of the woods two hours away but you didn’t need to know that.

“So did you tell him? Is he going to come?” Harry adores how excited you get over things like the neighborhood’s fall festival, you have a certain sparkle in your eyes as you turn to look at him while you motion for him to sit on the edge of the bathtub.

“Baby…” Harry doesn’t miss the way you completely ignore him as you just turn around and head to grab the first aide kit under Harry’s sink, he knows there’s something you’re not telling him about why you’re so curious if his long haired bestfriend will be attending the festival or not.

“I’m thinking about making chocolate chip cookies for the bake sale but is that too boring?” You ask once you’re standing in front of Harry with the first aide kit placed next to his thigh on the edge of the tub. You gently take his right hand in yours and he watches the way you pout at the sight of the damage he’s done to himself. “Or maybe snickerdoodle? That’s a very fall sort of cookie isn’t it?” Harry gives you a smile when you look at him, he knows you want to say something about the gash and ask how could he have gotten that from a punching bag but instead you just keep going on about cookies.

“It looks worst than it actually is.” He whispers taking your mind off of cookies for a moment as you begin cleaning his knuckles with an alcohol wipe. You just give him a look that makes him let out a chuckle because it’s obvious you don’t believe him. “I think Mitch likes snickerdoodle cookies.” You smile at this bit of information making Harry happy that he’s able to slightly distract you from the fact he doesn’t even flinch when you begin applying some cream to his knuckles so the open gashes don’t get infected.

“Really? Oh that’ll be perfect because Niall-” You stop mid sentence when Harry’s hand slightly tenses as the name of your coworker tumbles out of your mouth. “I’m sorry honey I’m almost done.” Your voice matches the softness of your touches as you begin to bandage his hand, Harry is aware you think his tenseness is due to the pain in his hands but in reality it’s because he has put the pieces together of why you want Mitch to attend the festival this weekend.

“Niall will be there? He doesn’t even live in this neighborhood.” He watches your brows pinch together as you focus on where your hands are gently pressing over his knuckles making the bandages stick in place.

“Mitch doesn’t either.” You state matter of factly making Harry just raise a shoulder in a shrug as a smile creeps onto his face.

“Is my lovely wife trying to set my best mate up with the nosey bloke she shares a cubical with?” You shoot him a playful glare as you reach over and close the first aide kit after putting the left over bandages inside. “Because if she is then maybe she’d like to know that Mitch isn’t really looking for a relationship at the moment.” He adds as he looks over as you grab the kit to put it back under the sink but Harry just takes it from your hands and places it back down next to him so he can take your hands in his, he internally groans at how he can’t really feel how soft your hands are in his due to the way you wrapped his knuckles.

“You weren’t looking for anything serious when we met either remember?” You ask as you let Harry place your hands on his shoulders while his grab hold of your hips as you stand between his legs. “You didn’t even want to go on a date with me at first because you were so against being in a relationship.” You tease as Harry just looks up at you with a smile as you take one of your hands and brush some hair out of his face making him lean into your touch when you leave your hand holding the side of his face.

“You’ve got it all wrong baby.” You raise an eyebrow making Harry just turn his head so he can place a kiss to the inside of your hand that you have on his face. “It wasn’t that I was against being in a relationship. It was the fact I just knew the moment I went on one date with you I’d never want to be without you. So I was just really fucking nervous. I didn’t want to mess it all up.” He admits making your eyes go a bit glassy at his sweet words, something Harry’s always been good at is telling you exactly how he feels about you no matter how sappy or corny it makes him sound.

“I can’t imagine you being nervous because of me.” Harry just laughs as he pulls you closer to him while your hand goes from the side of his face back to his shoulder.

“You still make me nervous sweetheart.” His hands give your hips a little squeeze as you look down at him. “You don’t even know how often I just find myself staring at you wondering how the hell I ended up being the one you wanted to spend your life with.” Harry brings one of his hands up to gently cup your face, the bandages feeling a little rough against your skin but not uncomfortable. “But I’m so happy you picked me because I can’t imagine loving anyone else but you.” You blink a few times to try to hold back the tears that want to fall as Harry pulls your face down towards his making your lips to meet.

“You’re so rude.” You mumble as you pull away and Harry hears you sniffle as you bring your hands up and wipe under your eyes to catch the tears before they can make it down your cheeks. “Making me cry after I just bandaged your hands for you.” Harry rubs his thumb over your cheek as you let out a sigh.

“M’sorry baby.”

“It’s okay I still love you.”

“That’s good because I’d be a bit of a wreck if you didn’t.”

“But to make it up to me you can just make sure Mitch and Niall meet on Saturday-oh and be nice to Niall please. He’s a nice guy and the two of you have a lot in common.” Harry just nods making you give him a smile that makes the thought of having to play nice with your extremely talkative and slightly annoying coworker worth it but if Harry’s being honest with himself he knows he would do anything you ask of him if it would make you even the tiniest bit happy.

“Thank you. I’ll go heat up your dinner while you take a shower.” With that you lean down and place a kiss to Harry’s cheek as he slides his hand away from your face and places it in his lap, he gives your hip one last squeeze before he lets you go so you can turn around and head out of the bathroom.

“Mitch is going to be so thrilled.” He whispers to himself with a laugh once he knows you’re out of the bedroom and headed down the hall towards the kitchen as he runs a hand through his hair.

“She wants me to meet who?” Mitch asks with a raised brow as he looks at Harry who is currently digging around in his duffle bag for a roll of duct tape.

“Niall her cubical mate at work he’s going to be at the fall festival this Saturday and she figured that would be a good place to-”

“I don’t want to.” Mitch interjects as he adjusts the fit of the gloves on his hands, Harry roll his eyes at how whiny his bestfriend’s voice is over the subject of meeting someone new.

“That’s cool but I also didn’t ask if you wanted to or not.” Harry states as he finally finds the tape, he grabs it and hands it to Mitch before zipping his duffle bag closed. “It’s not like you have to date him just meet him and don’t be a dick about it.” He explains while closing his trunk so he can begin putting his gloves on.

“But I don’t want to meet-what the fuck happened to your hands?” Harry looks over at Mitch whose eyes are glued to the bandages on his knuckles. “Did you get into a fight?” He asks as he watches Harry put a glove on his right hand, slightly struggling to get the leather to fit properly over the bandages.

“No.” Mitch’s hands fall to his sides in a huff as he glares at Harry. “He never got the chance to hit me back.” He gives Mitch a quick glance to see his reaction and as he suspected he’s not happy because Harry has a feeling his friend knows exactly who it was that gave Harry the bruised knuckles.

“It was Todd wasn’t it? You beat the shit out of him by yourself? We had a plan Harry why didn’t you just-”

“I saw his car in the parking lot of a bar on the way home from the store and I just-I reacted in a way I shouldn’t have but I don’t regret it. I know we had a plan but now it’s dealt with and we can move on.” Mitch’s eyes go wide as the thoughts of how exactly Harry dealt with Todd begin to swirl around in his head. “Relax I didn’t kill him okay? I just maybe broke a bone or two.” He explains making Mitch let out a sigh as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“You beat him up in a bar parking lot and broke a few bones? Jesus man that’s not cool what if someone saw you?”

“No one saw me besides Todd and he won’t say anything.”

“He saw you? Like your face?”

“Yes but it’s fine.”

“Harry this is very far from fine. He could have you arrested for assault and you’re just walking around with the evidence on your hands Mr. Forensic Files.” Harry shoots Mitch a hard glare as he finishes putting his gloves on but Mitch just stands there and glares at him right back because this isn’t how the two of them go about doing things, they have plans for a reason and it’s to avoid possible issues like being seen and the fact Harry is so relaxed about the whole thing isn’t sitting right with Mitch at all.

“Todd knows it was me who broke his jaw and probably a few ribs last night and he knows why. Now I know you think he could go to the police and get me arrested but he won’t because when I pulled him out of his car he wasn’t alone and who he was with was someone you have to pay to get the privilege to hang out with if you get what I’m saying.” Harry takes a step towards Mitch as he explains why he’s not worried about Todd and places a hand on his shoulder so he can give it a not so gentle squeeze.

“You broke his jaw?” Mitch asks making Harry just shrug as he releases his hold on Mitch’s shoulder.

“Well yeah what else was I supposed to do? I wasn’t going to just cut out his tongue in a bar parking lot and get blood all over the place.” Mitch lets out a chuckle as Harry bends down to grab the backpack by Mitch’s feet. “Besides he also thinks we work with computers in some company’s basement for their I.T department and a guy like Todd isn’t about to let anyone think he got his shit rocked by a computer nerd.” He states with a smirk as he places a strap of the backpack over his shoulder, Mitch can’t help but just stare at Harry for a moment before he looks behind him at the house of the man they are about to go deal with.

“And this was all because he said your wife’s casserole was dry?” Harry ignores the teasing tone of Mitch’s voice as he asks the question while the two of them head up the driveway to the man’s house.

“Yeah so imagine what I’d do to you if you try to tell her no you’re not interested in meeting Niall or you don’t want to come to the festival this weekend.” Mitch rolls his eyes as the empty threat because he knows Harry wouldn’t ever lay a hand on him unless it was absolutely necessary. “She’s making snickerdoodle cookies for the bake sale but if you agree to meeting Niall I’ll have her give you some for free.” Harry knows that the long haired man standing behind him has very few weaknesses but one of them is baked goods especially ones you make.

“Fucking asshole.” Mitch mumbles as he pulls his hair back into a low ponytail right as they make it to the front door. “Better be at least a dozen and this Niall dude better not be a douche.”

“I hear he’s quite nice and uh what’s the word? Oh a bit chatty.”

“I hate you.”

“But you love her so you’ll eat your cookies and be nice.” Is all Harry says before he knocks on the door signaling that their conversation is over and they are about to start their work so they need to be focused on the task at hand, which just so happens to be ending the life of the man who is about the answer the door.

[yuwuta]

yuuta crumbs pls queen 😔🤲

here’s something from a fic that’s been kicking my ass as of late, it’s something i planned way back in february as a valentine’s day thing and obvs never got around to finishing it in time 😔 for context, yuuta’s been hit with a kind of cupid’s bow/lovesick curse that makes him act, well... more lovesick than usual. f2l because what's new around here

“Yuuta, stop!” 

He freezes, the tone of your voice shocking him to a complete stop—the desperation and anger in your cry reverberates through him and incites fear. Not the basal kind that makes him feel like he’s in danger; the kind born from anxiety; the kind that makes him terrified of losing you.

When he turns to you, it’s with wide, regretful eyes, and a strikingly meek demeanor, in complete contrast to his previous, eminent bloodlust. He unclenches his fist from Toge’s jacket, dropping him from his grasp to trudge towards you with laser focus.  

“Are you mad at me?” Yuuta questions, words desperate not unlike yours before, but far more rushed, and laced with an anxiety that isn’t unlike the normal Yuuta you know. He stops walking when he’s in front of you, tipping his head down slightly, leaving no room for you to look anywhere but directly at him, when he notices you trying to tip-toe to look past him to Toge, “Did I make you mad? Are you angry? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Please don’t hate me!”  

He keeps pleading with you, begging you not to hate him. You’re not sure that he even knows what he’s apologizing for, but his mantra of don’t hate me, don’t hate me—I love you—don’t hate me rings loudly in your ears. 

His reaction confuses you. Had the way you called his name struck something this despondent and regretful inside of him? Can he even feel true regret right now?—you’re certain if you hadn’t stopped him when you had, he’d have hurt Toge, but he didn’t seem sorry about injuring his friend, only for making you upset. It wasn’t like a few days ago when your mere presence could catch his attention, make him light up and wag his tail like a puppy. You had asked for Yuuta to calm down before he grabbed Toge, but he was blind to your wishes this time—it wasn’t love that was fueling his actions anymore. 

His curse didn’t make sense before, but now it’s grown even more confusing to you. You don’t have time to ponder the abnormalities any further when you start to feel Yuuta’s cursed energy bubbling around you. He’s still crying for forgiveness, clearly remorseful of his actions, but his energy doesn’t wallow with him; it grows stronger with every plea from his lips, and eventually the room feels stifling because of Yuuta’s persistence and exclamations of love for you.  

“No, no—Yuuta, I don’t hate you,” you’re careful to call his name tenderly this time, despite your hurried actions to reach and cradle his face between your palms, “I never said that. I never would.”  

Almost instantly, he seems to calm, the room feels lighter, and he stops rambling for forgiveness once he hears your words. “You… don’t hate me?”  

“No, Yuuta, I could never hate you,” you tell him, gently, endeared by how placid he’s become after a shred of reassurance—and relieved to no longer be drowning in the threat of his cursed energy, “But if you love me—”  

“I do,” he interjects, raising a hand to wrap around your wrists, tilting his head down further into your palms; and his eyes sparkle now like a little kid who’s excited to share something—eager and grounded and certain, “I do love you, not if.”  

You pause, then smile. It’s impressive how chipper he is now when he was bordering on a lovesick-induced panic attack mere seconds ago. “Well since you love me, you can’t hurt the other people I care about.”  

Yuuta frowns now, moving his hands to peel yours away from his face. He lets go of your wrists only to wrap his hands around yours instead, holding them between your bodies. “But I don’t want you to care about anybody else,” he pouts, petulant, the childlike air around him now on the verge of a tantrum, “I love you, and only you. I want you to love me, and only me, too. Isn’t that fair?”  

His words are so earnest and bold, you’re tempted to believe him this time; almost tricked into thinking Yuuta is saying this of his own volition; almost flattered by his proclamation until you remember that these are the emotions and words of a curse, and not his own.  

“I can’t not care about my friends. They care about you, too—Toge cares about you a lot, so you can’t hurt him, or anybody else, not even for me.”   

You feel him squeeze your hands as his lips turn downwards in frustration. He’s quiet for a moment, weighing his options, and you carefully scan his face, hoping your words don’t resonate the wrong way. Luckily, after a minute, a small smile crawls onto Yuuta’s lips and his head perks up before he tells you, “Okay… if… if you care, then Yuuta cares!”  

“Well, that’s not...” you pause, when Yuuta’s grin widens, eyes crinkling from his smile and you don’t have the heart to stop it, nor do you have the capacity to stop him should you trigger another episode. “You know what, yeah that works.”  

“Because I love you!” he continues, moving his hands to rest against your shoulders, now happy and sure of himself, “Do you love Yuuta, too?”  

Your head jerks slightly, leaving you looking up at him owlishly when you realize this is the first time he’s asked you that question. Up until now, the cursed version of Yuuta has put the emphasis on his love for you, unconcerned about a mutual attraction. Even just now, his concern with Toge’s potential attraction to you was a new development—and his true concern seemed to be with how he could stop it, to ensure that you only felt his love.  

Things are changing. Yuuta almost hurt someone he otherwise considers a dear friend—he’s not just playing at pure love anymore—now there’s jealousy, and fear, and a possessive nature on the table, too, and you’re not sure what to expect next. His curse is inexplicably complex, almost impossibly human. You wonder how it’s at all possible. 

You know that Shoko advised you not to feed into Yuuta’s cursed feelings too much, but right now you can hardly see the line between your Yuuta and the lovesick version of him, and you won’t wait until that border is permanently blurred. If reassurance is what it takes to keep his feelings at bay, then so be it. You’re not scared of Yuuta himself, but you fear that he might hurt himself just to seek your approval and love. You can’t let him do that, especially not when he already has it.  

“Of course I do, Yuuta,” you reply, a wobbly smile with teary eyes because now you’re pleading with him, “Please, don’t forget that.”

[kaylaacutiepie]

ii. heaven to you ( gun x reader)

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this one-shot. All characters belong to Park Tae- jun, the talented creator of the manhwa Lookism.

This story may not meet your expectations, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. If you have any requests or suggestions, please feel free to leave a comment below!

The night air was thick with music and the low hum of conversation as I sat alone in the corner of a bar I didn’t normally go to. But tonight, I felt restless, like something was missing, something I needed without fully understanding what it was.

And then he walked in.

Gun. I’d heard about him—a name that carried weight, whispered around town with an equal measure of awe and warning. He was the kind of guy who made people’s hearts race for all the wrong reasons, the kind of guy your friends warned you about but secretly couldn’t resist. He had that look, that intimidating, menacing aura, as if he owned every room he walked into. I was just another face in the crowd, but when his eyes met mine, I felt the spark.

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t waver. In a matter of seconds, he was standing at my side, leaning casually against the bar, like he’d known I’d be there waiting for him.

“You look like you could use some company,” he murmured, voice smooth as whiskey, low enough that only I could hear.

I raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with a challenge. “And you look like you have a habit of saying things girls want to hear.”

He chuckled, an amused gleam in his eyes. “I don’t say things just to be nice.” His hand slid onto the bar beside me, his fingers brushing mine ever so slightly, sending a thrill through me. I couldn’t deny it—there was something about him that made me want to lean in, test him, see just how far he was willing to go.

“Is that so?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though my pulse was racing. “What makes you think I’d be interested in the bad-boy routine?”

His eyes flicked over me, slowly, deliberately. “It’s not a routine. It’s just who I am.”

He was closer now, and I could feel the heat radiating off him. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, dark and earthy, making my thoughts blur. Part of me wanted to pull back, to remind myself that I should know better. But a stronger part of me wanted to see what would happen if I didn’t.

“Bad boys are fun, I’ll give you that,” I said, trying to sound casual, though I could hear the tremor in my own voice. “But they never stick around.”

He leaned in closer, his hand brushing lightly over my waist, his fingers resting just long enough to make my breath hitch. “Who says I plan on leaving?”

My heart pounded, every nerve in my body on high alert. His gaze was intense, piercing, and I could feel my cheeks flushing. I swallowed, meeting his eyes with a confidence that surprised even me. “Actions speak louder than words,” I challenged, holding his gaze.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, a grin playing at the edge of his mouth, “I’m all about actions.”

And in one smooth motion, he took my hand, leading me out of the bar without another word. The street outside was dim, the faint glow of the streetlamp casting us in shadows as he pulled me into a secluded corner. My breath caught as he turned to face me, his hand sliding down to rest on my hip, warm and possessive. His thumb traced a slow, teasing circle there, sending shivers through me.

He tilted his head, his face so close I could feel his breath on my skin. His eyes lingered on my lips, his gaze flicking up to meet mine. “Still testing me, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low, a teasing glint in his eyes.

I felt my heart stutter, my pulse quickening as my fingers grazed his collar, pulling him closer, almost on instinct. “You’re the one who said actions speak louder,” I whispered, barely able to keep my voice steady.

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Careful what you wish for.”

And then he kissed me.

The world fell away as his mouth claimed mine, fierce and demanding, leaving no room for hesitation. His hand tightened on my waist, pulling me flush against him, his body hard and unyielding. My hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against mine with a hunger that sent heat pooling low in my stomach.

His hands slid up my back, one slipping beneath the fabric of my shirt, his fingers warm against my skin, making me gasp into his mouth. He took the opportunity, his tongue sweeping against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through me that made my knees weak. His free hand cupped my face, thumb tracing my cheek, rough and gentle all at once, leaving me breathless.

The cool night air was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating between us, and I could feel every touch, every press of his body against mine, as if he was branding himself into my skin. His mouth left mine, trailing down to my jaw, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin of my neck. I could barely hold back the small, breathless sounds escaping me, my hands clutching his shoulders as he worked his way down to the hollow of my throat, each touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

His lips hovered just below my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he whispered, his voice rough, a wicked promise in his tone.

I shivered, my hands clinging to him, desperate to keep him close. “Maybe I’ve wanted you to find out,” I murmured back, surprised by the boldness of my own words.

He grinned, pulling back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and smoldering. “Oh, I plan to,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, his gaze holding mine as if he were daring me to stop him.

But I didn’t want to stop him. Not now, not after feeling the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze. He leaned in again, capturing my mouth in a kiss that was slower this time, deeper, his hands roaming over my body with a reverence that felt almost possessive. He kissed me like he wanted to consume me, like he wanted to leave no part of me untouched, no inch unexplored.

His hands trailed down my sides, his fingers tracing patterns that left me breathless, each touch deliberate, calculated, as if he knew exactly what it would do to me. My skin was on fire, every nerve alight with a desire that was quickly unraveling me.

With a smirk, he pulled back slightly, his lips grazing my ear. “I told you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Bad boys don’t just go to heaven. We bring it to you.”

I couldn’t help but smile, breathless and dizzy, and in that moment, I knew I was in trouble—the best kind of trouble.

[bbywhitefox123]

descrption: mia and rafe have been best friends ever since mia and sarah have been best friends. however, mia has a guy that she wants to make jelous and rafe has the dick she could use for her plan.

warnings: degrading, deep-throating, filming etc.

Rafe was sprawled out on his bed, shirtless and still riding the buzz of his last hookup, when Mia strolled into his room without so much as a knock. The girl he'd just been with scrambled to collect her things, tugging her dress over her head with a hasty glance back at Mia, who barely even acknowledged her presence.

This was routine. Mia had seen enough by now that nothing about it surprised her. They'd been best friends since they could remember- she and Sarah had been thick as thieves growing up, and with Sarah came him, the so-called Kook Prince. But somewhere along the way, the line between friends and something else had blurred.

He smirked as the girl slipped out, the door clicking shut. "Here to yell at me, Peach?" he asked, lounging back, his smirk practically lazy.

But Mia just rolled her eyes, stepping closer. "I need you to make someone jealous," she said, her voice direct.

Rafe's interest piqued. "What, another staged picture for your story? Need the back of my head or something?" He shrugged, already moving to get up.

"No," she said, and that one word stopped him cold. She put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him seated. Then, without a second thought, Mia reached for the hem of her top and peeled it off in one swift move, tossing it aside.

Rafe's eyes went wide, his throat going dry as she stood there, her skin bare save for a black lace bra that did nothing to cover her curves. His heart hammered. He was used to Mia's games, but this? This was different.

"Mia," he said, his voice low, "what exactly are you trying to pull here?"

"Shut up, Rafe," she murmured, leaning down until her face was close enough that he could feel her breath on his neck. She reached behind her back, unhooking her bra and letting it fall away, and Rafe's mouth went dry as he took her in.

He swallowed, his hands instinctively moving to her waist, pulling her onto his lap. The heat of her skin against his chest made his head spin. "You're insane," he whispered, a grin tugging at his lips, but he couldn't look away.

She ignored him, pulling her phone out and adjusting the camera until it captured their reflection in the mirror. From this angle, all that could be seen was her sitting on his lap, her bare skin pressed to his, and the unmistakable look in her eyes. No one would mistake this for friendship.

Rafe's breath caught as he watched her hit the shutter button, capturing the image. His hands tightened on her hips, and for once, he had no comeback, no witty response-only the overwhelming feeling that he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything.

Mia’s fingers curled around the back of his neck, keeping him close as she angled her phone for another shot, shifting on his lap like she’d done this a thousand times before. Rafe squinted, both entertained and a little confused. He tilted his head, trying to catch her eye.

“So,” he asked, voice low, “who exactly are you trying to make jealous here?”

“Just some idiot who thinks I’m not worth his time,” she muttered, bitterness creeping into her tone, though to them, this was all just normal conversation.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, chuckling. “You’re kidding.”

She sighed, finally pulling herself off his lap, and with a quick, fluid motion, she snapped her bra back on. Rafe’s gaze lingered, noticing how the lace still left just a hint of skin peeking through, enough to keep him hooked. He had to force himself to look back up at her face.

“Mason Williams,” she continued, sounding exasperated. “He’s got it in his head that I’m just some… pillow princess or whatever.”

Rafe smirked, unable to resist the jab. “And you’re not?”

Her mouth dropped open, feigning shock. She grabbed a pillow from the bed and lobbed it at him. He ducked, laughing as he caught it mid-air, remembering that one time he’d stumbled in on her with one of his buddies. She’d been sprawled on her back, looking like she was a spectator while the guy did all the work.

“I’m a freak, Rafe,” she shot back, arching a brow, daring him to say otherwise.

“Oh, yeah. Totally,” he mocked, grin widening. But his gaze dipped, taking in the curve of her figure, wondering just how much of that confidence she really meant.

She rolled her eyes, but as she picked up her phone again, Rafe forced himself to look away, back to her face. He couldn’t help himself, though; his eyes kept trailing back down.

“What’s the deal with Mason?” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual, though her bare skin was still seared in his mind.

She didn’t look up from her phone as she scrolled through the photos they’d taken. “It was this stupid dare. Mason’s friend Matt bet him a grand that he couldn’t get me in bed.” She shrugged, like this was just another normal night.

Rafe raised a brow. “And you’re cool with that? Getting dared on?”

She shrugged, a sly smirk tugging at her lips. “I was the one who set up the whole thing. I convinced Matt to make the dare. Figured it’d get Mason to bite.”

Rafe blinked, somewhere between amused and impressed. The twisted plan was something only Mia could’ve dreamed up, and as messed up as it was, he had to admit—it was brilliant in a way only she could pull off.

“You’re a little insane, you know that?” he said, shaking his head. But he couldn’t help the pride that crept into his tone. She was a handful, but damn, was she his kind of trouble.

Rafe watched as Mia tapped away on her phone, her black bra and that short pink skirt leaving almost nothing to his imagination. Every time she moved, his eyes couldn't help but follow, tracing over her curves. She was looking down, too absorbed in her plan to notice him watching.

He smirked, biting his lip as an idea formed, reckless but tempting. "Maybe you should try a different kind of photo," he suggested, his tone low and dangerous.

Mia barely glanced up, shaking her head with a small laugh. "Not sending nudes, Rafe."

Rafe just rolled his eyes, even as his grin spread wider. She still hadn't looked at him, and she definitely hadn't noticed the way his eyes were following every inch of her. He leaned in, reaching over to take her phone right out of her hands, and that finally got her attention.

"Hey!" she protested, but Rafe held her gaze, his own sparkling with that dervish grin of his.

"Not that kind of photo," he murmured, leaning close enough that he could feel the warmth of her skin against his. His fingers brushed her arm as he set the phone down on the table, and her eyebrow quirked, the hint of a challenge in her eyes.

"Then what kind of photo, exactly?" she asked, one brow raised in that familiar look she gave him, equal parts daring and defiant.

Rafe leaned in just a bit closer, his hand lingering at her waist. "The kind where we make it crystal clear to this guy that he has no idea what he's missing," he whispered, letting his fingers drift along her hip, the tension between them thickening by the second.

For once, she didn't brush him off, didn't shove him away. Instead, she held his gaze, and Rafe could see the flicker of intrigue in her eyes. He knew she felt it too-this electric, irresistible push-and-pull they'd been playing with for so long.

Rafe held her gaze, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. He ran his thumb over the edge of her phone as he leaned a bit closer, voice dropping lower.

"Come on, Peach," he said slowly, watching her reaction as he spoke. "What if you really gave him something to think about?"

Mia scoffed, rolling her eyes as she took her phone back. "I told you, I'm not sending nudes."

"Who said anything about nudes?" he replied, his grin widening. "Just saying... maybe you give him a taste. Show him what he's missing."

Her eyebrow arched, but he noticed her hesitation, a flicker of curiosity. "Like what?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Rafe's gaze trailed down, lingering on her bare skin, her black lace bra, and that tiny pink skirt that barely covered her hips. He could already imagine just how far that lace ran down, and the thought had his pulse spiking. He leaned closer, just enough that his breath grazed her cheek. "Maybe you turn around, show off a little more. Let him see what he's too stupid to go after."

Mia narrowed her eyes, a smirk teasing the corner of her mouth. "You're really pushing it, Rafe."

"And you're really not stopping me," he shot back, holding her gaze, daring her.

She let out a sigh, but she was smiling now, her eyes challenging him. Finally, she turned, tossing a look over her shoulder as she tugged her skirt up, just enough to reveal the curve of her hips and the thin line of her black lace thong.

Rafe's breath caught, his hand instinctively reaching out, hovering just an inch from her skin. "Now we're talking," he murmured, the heat in his voice unmistakable.

She tilted her phone to capture the shot, giving him a daring glance. Rafe's fingers brushed over her hip, his pulse hammering as he fought the urge to let his hand slip lower, to show her just what he thought of her little plan.

Rafe leaned back, watching Mia with that familiar cocky smirk. The tension between them was undeniable, simmering in the air. He caught her eye, and she held his gaze, challenging him with that same fiery look she always gave him when they were toeing the line. He took her by the hand and guided her down onto her knees, her eyes flashing with defiance even as she settled into the position.

"You're really taking this seriously, aren't you?" she scoffed, though there was a spark in her voice, something daring him to keep going.

"Think of it as dedication to your mission," he replied, his voice a low murmur as he leaned forward, fingers trailing down her shoulders to the delicate lace of her bra. "If Mason's gonna get a taste, let's make it memorable."

He tugged gently, teasing her until she rolled her eyes but didn't stop him. Her skin spilled just slightly over the lace, and his fingers traced the edge, letting the tension build between them. She shifted, her breath quickening, and Rafe's pulse spiked as he took in the sight of her, the mixture of resistance and undeniable chemistry pulling them closer.

She shot him a look, somewhere between a glare and a challenge. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Maybe," he admitted, snapping a picture, his grin only widening. "But so are you.”

When he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, she hesitated for just a second, then parted her lips, letting him slip two fingers into her mouth. She held his gaze, the weight of the moment thickening as she leaned into the game. Rafe's heartbeat thundered in his chest, his focus narrowing to this charged moment between them, where the lines between friendship and something more had completely blurred.

Mia's eyes dropped to the bulge in Rafe's boxers, a spark of mischief igniting within him. "Wanna snap a pic with my dick in your mouth?" he teased catching her off guard.

Her breath quickened, but she didn't say anything. What could she say anyway? Yes, Rafe, please fuck my throat for the sake of making Mason jealous? Hell nah.

“C’mon, Peach, let’s show him that you can be a dumb cock slut, isn’t that what you want?”

“I guess…” Mia muttered, feeling her stomach tightened. This whole thing was making her panties wet and they hadn't even started.

Rafe leaned closer, pulling Mia in as he took his dick out of his boxers. He pressed himself against her lips, urging her to take him in. The camera captured every moment, documenting the raw intensity of their connection. Mia's eyes locked onto Rafe's, a mix of excitement and hesitation as she surrendered to the moment.

Rafe's grip on Mia's hair was tight, controlling, as he forced her deeper, his smirk widening. "Look at you," he sneered, his voice low and mocking. "Just a pretty little thing, taking what I give you." The camera rolled, capturing the way her eyes fluttered, torn between defiance and desire. He leaned closer, breath hot against her ear, taunting her with every word. "You're nothing but my plaything. Prove it." The scene was charged with a dark energy, each moment steeped in power and submission, leaving no room for escape.

Rafe thrusts his hips against her mouth, feeling her tight and warm throat. He could feel his dick twitch as he watched her eyes tear up from the phone screen.

He smirked, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her jaw, “You like being used, don’t you?”

Mia was unable to answer. God, she was unable to breathe let alone to answer! Her eyes rolled back as saliva dripped down her lips and chin, just for her to shoot them back at Rafe when he yanked her by the jaw again.

“C’mon, Peach, do you like being used?” Rafe asked again, his voice becoming hollow as he felt his balls begin to throb.

Unable to say anything, Mia nodded her head like an obedient girl.

“You like being a whore, don’t you?” Rafe muttered, sucking in a breath.

Mia nodded, tears rolling down her eyes but she kept sucking his dick. Sucking him so fucking good like she was made for it. Made to kneel in front of him and give him head like an obedient little slut.

Maybe she was, though?

Before Rafe could ask her anything else, his mouth fell agape, and a loud moan escaped his lips. His hot cum streamed right down her throat, making Mia begin to cough. She was suffocating on his dick, but no matter what she kept sucking him with hallow cheeks and teeth eyes.

Rafe’s hand wrapped around her hair as he pulled her head back so his dick could get out of her mouth and he could cum on her pretty face as well. He was breathing heavily as he moved the phone closer to her face to capture the ruined mascara and lipgloss, the sticky cum dripping down her face and the self-respect gone from her eyes.

He chuckled at her, ending the video and throwing the phone on her bed. “Think that would be enough?” he asked, amusement reeking from his voice.

Without a thought, Mia nodded her head in agreement, causing him to laugh even louder. Rafe snorted and looked down at the lipgloss stain on his dick.

He has just made his best friend deep-throat him.

previous next

[certifiedsexed]

hi there! this isn’t about sex itself, but since periods are usually a part of sex ed and i’ve literally just been woken up because the cramps were bad enough, i thought i would ask — is it normal to be in a lot of pain when you’re on your period?

context: i still live with my abusive parents, who don’t let me take any kind of pain medication after a suicide attempt at thirteen, so i know that this problem might just be that i need to take a strong painkiller. also the pain doesn’t ever last more than three days? like the first three days (and sometimes the days leading up to it) of my period are always hell but then it’s fine, i have no pain afterwards.

but the problem is that the pain is… bad. like being woken up in the middle of the night because my sides hurt and my legs hurt isn’t uncommon, and there’s this weird thing where i’m scared to use the toilet during these first three days because it makes my butt and my sides hurt so much that i genuinely can’t move and have to bite myself to stop myself from screaming. sometimes i’ll be in so much pain, usually in my sides but also sometimes in my stomach or legs or my butt, that i can’t even move, so i just kind of… have to lie pressed into my bed and hold my breath.

my mother has always just told me that she had worse pain when she still used to get her period, and that i’d be completely fine if i just listened to her and used a hot water bottle (i have poor circulation, so hot/cold stuff just doesn’t really feel great for me usually), and i’ve always just kind of accepted that. i know it’s common for people who get periods to talk about how painful things like cramps are, but i genuinely usually feel so miserable for the first couple days of my period that if i don’t need to get out my bed, i literally won’t at all.

i’m just wondering… is everyone who gets periods in as much pain as i usually am, at least for the first couple days? or, since i know that people experience periods differently, are people in more/less pain than i am but it’s fine since this isn’t that bad and i should just take medication each month for it? idk, but ever since i started to get periods they’ve genuinely always made me feel so so bleak and in agony, and i’m someone i’d consider who has a maybe above ‘average’ pain tolerance (i have chronic back pain, migraines, and health issues that make it easy for me to sprain/fracture my ankles which i’ve unironically managed to do about eight times in the past two years — again, unfortunately all of this with mostly no painkillers unless i can get them from the school first aid box), so i just… don’t know anymore, but i thought it couldn’t hurt to ask.

anyways, unrelated but i really do love this blog — the reblogs are always good things to read as someone who’s still unpacking being raised by very puritanical parents, and the asks always offer good advice too, very empathetically in a way that sometimes catches me off guard (there was one post on here that was something about how the asker’s father would belittle them and i think your reply said something like ‘it’s not your fault and nothing’s wrong with that aspect of you’… which i know sounds obvious but that was something that i don’t think had ever been obvious to me ever since my father started doing the same when i was younger. it was really comforting to hear, is what i mean, and your replies often are. so thank you for that! and for the time + energy i can imagine it takes to run this, you post/rb so often!)

Hi! This is absolutely a sex ed question, you're right!

So, first, let me make one thing clear: no! You are not supposed to be in this level of pain on your period. Some pain is understandable but once it gets to the point it's bad/debilitating in Any fashion, something is going wrong.

But I also want to say, being in an abusive living situation can fuck up your periods. And so can being restricted from pain relief, which-just in case you're not aware-is another type of abuse.

But what you're talking about sounds like more than just a lack of basic pain relief. That's very disabling, even if it doesn't last long. It may be that intense reactions to periods run in your family [especially since your mother mentioned experiencing something similar] but that's still something you should be getting something like specialized pain meds for or even stopping your periods altogether.

What you're talking about, especially on top of an abusive living situation, is very unhealthy for you to have to deal with.

Not everyone is in that much pain. Some people are but that's a medical condition. It's a disability! What you're talking about is a disability. It can be caused by PMS or endometriosis or PMDD or it could even be connected to whatever causes your other chronic pain but it's still very much something your parents should be getting you checked out for.

Even if your mother had the exact same pain on her period, that doesn't mean you should have to suffer through it, especially not with her revoking your access to basic pain relief. That's all completely unacceptable and I'm sorry you're having to deal with this.

I'm not sure how helpful this is but I hope it's at least good to know the pain levels you're dealing with are unacceptable and Not "normal" period pain.

Also I'm so glad you're learning and enjoying the blog, especially the advice. I also grew up in an abusive household so to hear it's helping someone else in a similar situation means the world to me, fr. 💕 Sending love, Anon. <3

[archie-sunshine]

Okay um, I wasn’t kidding about being Mentally Unwell about First Aid and his dumb little socks so I wanted to say thank you for making that and also as soon as I saw it I whipped this up real quick. So…

It was your turn to bring back dinner. You knew when the barkeep already had your plates waiting that you were the last one home this time. A simple but hardy arrangement of stew, bread, and ale you take the tray up to your room.

With a little bit of finagling you manage to swing the door open. Odd, you think, that First Aid isn’t there to help, he doesn’t even say hello.

You find him in front of the fire. Your fingers dig into the tray, pressing so hard you’re sure you’re going to tear the wooden thing asunder.

He’s spread out in front of the fire, the orange glow casting across his bare skin, and there was far more of that than usual. He’d stripped out of his trousers, down to his underwear and socks, ribbons still wrapped taut around his calves, and shirt unbuttoned barely clinging onto his shoulders, and surprisingly, his headgear remained on.

It’s a sensual combination that only through sheer will, determination and one more thing that keeps you from dumping dinner and lunging for him.

Far more than just lust, it’s the realization of just how beautiful he is in that moment. You wish you had a portrait of it. Unaware, caught in a moment of peace, it sends your heart fluttering. Seeing him so open, so comfortable, so vulnerable, waiting for you in your shared room—It’s a moment of domestic bliss that warms your soul, spreading from your chest through every vein down to your tippy toes.

It makes you crave a lifetime of this moment, frozen in time here with him in your tiny room in some ramshackle inn sharing meals together in front of a fire forever.

Something snaps him out of his reverie, his eyes catch yours, and the moment is gone.

“Oh! Oh Dear!” He scrambles up. “Give me a second and I’ll get that for you!” You laugh, brushing him off and set the tray down. He looks absolutely ridiculous standing up now half dressed in the strangest combination of clothes to be half dressed in—ridiculous, and beautiful.

He eyes you strangely though the tips of his very pointed ears are turning pink and you can see a hint of that same shade just above the line of his mask.

“What?” He asks you, suspicious.

“What?” You echo back.

“Why are you grinning like that?”

Your grin widens.

“I’m only thinking.”

You step closer to him, your arms slipping under his shirt, wrapping around his waist, your thumb rubs along the bare skin you’d been yearning for moments before. That little edge of skepticism fades from his eyes, outshone by his curiosity as he steps further into your embrace, wrapping around you in kind.

“About what?”

“Becoming a powerful wizard.” First Aid laughs.

“Why a wizard?”

“A powerful wizard. I would need to be one to stop time.” Such a sweet sport, he plays along with only a skeptical brow raise.

“Oh? And why would you need to do that.”

You carefully pluck the glasses off his face, setting them aside your cooling meals to press your forehead to his.

“My world domination plans of course.”

It’s not hard to see him roll his eyes from here. Maybe you’ll tell him the real reason after dinner, or maybe you won’t. You don’t need to. After all, that moment may be gone for now, but you have a lifetime more of opportunities.

AAAaAGGHHH THIS IS SO ADORABLE!!!! thank you thank you thank you thats so cute so so cute EEE!!!!!

sorry im normal

anyway my reasoning for aid's hat being on even though his boobs are out

[fairyofsilence]

BEHIND HIS LENSE | 2/7 | TTIB SERIES | PREVIEW

Pairing: Photographer!Taehyung x PersonalAssistant!Reader

Warnings: +18, Yandere, manipulation, drugging, EXPLICIT NONCON; cunnilingus, rough sex, victim blaming, slut shaming, blackmailing, abuse of power, coercion.

Summary: After 4 long years of working for the extravagant photographer Vante, you decide to step down from your job after catching feelings for your boss, which you're sure he will never return.

But he's determined to show you that there's only one person he will consider his muse, and it's you.

I don't agree nor condone any of the actions made by any of the characters throughout the story, I also do not belive that any of the members of BTS would act this way or have this type of behaviour, this story it's fiction and it's written with the sole purpose of entertainment, please proceed with caution.

Word count: 0.8 k.

Just a quick preview of what's coming :)

In three days from now, you’ll be quitting the only job you’ve ever had.

You know you’re extremely lucky to have landed such a sought-after job with absolutely no experience at all, especially when you consider who you’re working for, but you had truly underestimated just how demanding this job was, the number of errands you do in a day will send a normal person into a coma. At first, things started to pile up pretty quickly, and eventually, you learned how to keep on top of things, becoming one of the best at what you do, but recently, there’s something that no matter how hard you tried to push it aside, you can’t seem to shake it off, and if the job was hard before that, this just had officially made it unbearable.

You’re falling in love with your boss.

At first it was nothing but a simple, innocent crush, to be fair, how can anyone blame you? Taehyung is an attractive man, and his charm rapidly made your 20-year-old-self infuriated, although that crush faded quite quickly (thanks to Taehyung’s insufferable attitude the first couple of months), these past couple of months have been messing with your head, quite frankly, you think you’re going insane with the amount of overthinking you’ve been doing, but there’s things you can’t make up, especially since other people have been noticing too.

It all started with a simple comment, your best friend had planted the seed into your brain.

“Wow, since when did you get a raise?” Sohee’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets while she makes grabby hands at your new bag, you hand it out to her, and she touches it like it’s made of glass “How in the hell did you afford a brand-new Flamenco bag? I thought you said you were saving up for a new apartment!” Her tone is so high that you needed a second to digest what she just said, which leaves you more confused than you already are.

“What are you even talking about? If you think I bought this bag than I’ll have to reconsider all these years of friendship” You tried to joke around but Sohee doesn’t seem to be taking this lightly.

“How the hell did you get a 4-thousand-dollars bag then? You didn’t tell me you had a sugar daddy!” You almost faint when hearing the actual price of your new bag, but before she can say anything even more stupid, you quickly try to cover her mouth, but she swats your hand easily.

“Can you stop? I didn’t know it was this expensive!” She raises one of her brows at you and you feel the need to explain yourself “I don’t have a sugar daddy dumbass; Taehyung gave it to me the other day after a photoshoot” Sohee’s mouth opens so wide you have to restrain yourself to not laugh and cause an even bigger scene at the company’s cafeteria.

“Are you kidding me? Are you fucking him or something?” You gave Sohee a nasty look that she couldn’t care less about “I think the nicest thing Namjoon has ever done for me is saying ‘Please’ or ‘Thank you’, and he doesn’t even do that often, how the hell did you get your boss to give you a damn designer bag?” Her fixation over a bag is starting to get in your nerves, so you try to explain the situation to her.

“It was during a photoshoot like three days ago, he shot the new Loewe campaign and during a break I said that the color of this bag is very pretty, he asked if I liked the bag and I said yes because it was the biggest one where I could definitely fit everything I needed on it, he just nodded and by the end of the shoot he came to me with the bag on his hand telling me it was for me, I asked him why would he gave it to me and he just said ‘It matches your blouse’, kind of dumb if you ask me” Sohee was truly in a state of shock by the end of you explanation, and you didn’t know what to even say to her about that.

She’s speechless for a few seconds before she looks at you with an accusing stare.

“Wait a second, didn’t you tell me once that he made you send the girls he fucks a designer bag when he’s trying to fuck them?” Her eyebrows are almost reaching her hairline, and you don’t even know how to defend yourself because that was true.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything-” Sohee shuts you up with a single look, and you are forced to face the reality.

“Y/N, wake up, that man wants something from you, and it’s not anything casual if he’s giving you these types of gifts, we’ll let it slide this time” You scoff at her ‘we’ but she ignores you, “But if this keeps happening, you have two options, tell him to back off, or” Her tone was starting to piss you off, and you didn’t know if it was because she was being truly annoying, or because deep down you knew that she was right, “you can get more out of him, not just a designer bag”.

[cakerybakery]

You think Lucifer’s ever heard the Ugly Duckling story and went, “that’s me.” And then had a version made that was called the Ugly Swan because he likes ducks and the swans remind him of heaven and how he never fit in, but now he has his duck family.

How he might just sit there now that Lilith is gone, thinking about the story that used to bring him comfort. But Lilith left him and he doesn’t know how to be there for Charlie. She’s an adult and he had no idea how to navigate that relationship now that they’re no longer in the same household. Living together was being forced to be together and he could used that as an excuse to spent time with her. But now she’s gone. Off to make her own duck family and he’s alone again.

To make it a story

Lucifer wasn’t sure why he brought the book. Maybe he hoped they could read it together or something. Like old times. But Charlie was busy. Adam’s revival meant big things.

She didn’t know what. Just that they’d be big.

And Lucifer felt left out of those big things. Charlie didn’t return texts as much or call as much since they started reconnecting.

He’d come back the hotel that day hoping to spend some time with Charlie but she was busy.

Adam found him in the reading nook of the library. Curled up on the cushions and staring out the window. Arms wrapped around his A Bad Swan book.

Sitting down on the bench by Lucifer’s feet, Adam leaned against the wall and let things be quiet.

Eventually, Lucifer couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “What do you want?” He muttered.

“To go home. But I’m guess if you had something for that besides hard work, you’d be back in heaven already.” Adam spoke offhandedly, but there was a tinge of bitterness to it. “Your kid sent me.”

Lucifer looked up excitedly at that, “Char- Charlie did?” He sat up and pressed the book to his chest. Maybe they could spend some time together after all.

“What’s that?” Adam pointed to the book.

“It’s- it’s just a book I used to read Charlie when she was little.”

He’d had it commissioned because he didn’t feel like an ugly duckling, a duckling rejected by the ducks than comes back triumphantly beautiful because he was swan all along. He was more of a gosling, rejected by the other swans for being different, that came to find out he was a duck all along and found people that loved him for him.

Or. He used to. He and Lilith grew apart. Charlie is off making a nest with another duckling that was raised among swans. He was alone now.

Lucifer curled up around the book in his arms. He could feel hot tears starting to form and tried to push the hurt, the sadness, the loneliness, down.

“Oh shit! Don’t fucking start crying!” Adam panicked and pulled Lucifer to his chest. “Charlie will kill me if I make you crying.”

When was the last time someone held him? He’d been given hugs by Charlie, but actually held? Lucifer couldn’t remember.

Adam’s arms were large and firm, his chest warm and Lucifer could hear Adam’s heartbeat. His hot tears slipped down his cheeks and Lucifer buried his face into Adam’s chest, grasping Adam desperately.

A large hand patted his back awkwardly. “Hey man. It’s okay. It’s just a book, right?”

Lucifer shook head, rubbing it against Adam’s chest. “It’s me.”

Adam pulled the book from Lucifer’s hand and set it aside. “What’s you?”

“The- the duckling!”

“What duckling?”

“In the story.” Lucifer wiped his eyes but Adam still hadn’t let him go. “I didn’t fit in with the swans and I got left behind by my duck family. And Charlie is make a new nest with Vaggie. And-“

Pressing a finger to Lucifer’s lips Adam stopped his rambling. “Hang on. Back up. What’s going on? Swans? Ducks? I don’t know what you’re taking about.”

Lucifer wiped his nose on his sleeve and reached for the book. He pressed it into Adam’s hands and opened it.

He pointed to the fuzzy yellow duckling standing among the beautiful grown swans. The swans were shown saying things like, “he’s not like us”, “he looks different”, “why can’t he be normal?”

“Oh.” Adam flipped through the pages until he got to the last image. “But look. See the duck is all grownup and had his own happy family. You have a happy ending.”

Adam frowned and touched the female duck with a little crown upon her head. The duckling with a familiar rosy cheeks. And the male with Lucifer’s hat. “Had a happy ending.”

Closing the book and putting it aside Adam laid his head on Lucifer’s. “Now your duckling is grown herself and building her own nest. Your wife left. And you’re that lonely little duckling again.”

Lucifer squeaked out a little, “yes.”

“You miss your duckling?”

Lucifer just pressed more of himself against Adam, trying to steal as much of Adam’s comfort as he could.

“I miss mine too.” Adam told Lucifer about his boys and girls. The mischief they got into. The times the kids were sweet. And funny things they did until Lucifer was laughing at the image of Cain’s ass being purple for a week because he was horsing around with Abel and fell into a container Eve used to dye things that stained his skin.

He told Adam about the things Charlie used to do and it didn’t hurt to remember the past because he wasn’t reminded that he was alone.

They lay in the reading nook, swapping stories, until it was dark.

“Thank you.” Lucifer finally said as their phones chimed with identical texts from Charlie, telling them it was time for dinner.

“Yeah. Well. I wasn’t my idea. Charlie said I was probably the only person that could understand and help.”

Lucifer laughed as he sat up. “She’s a clever young lady. I think I did need someone to talk to that was also an empty nester.”

Adam pushed himself up to sitting as well. The lights from the city shined in Adam’s smiling eyes. He stood up and stretched, his shirt riding up and drawing Lucifer’s eyes to the well earned pudge after lifetimes of hardship.

“Ohh! Fuck. Might have pulled something.” Adam groaned rubbing his back. “I keep forgetting that hell isn’t like heaven. I really need to join a yoga class or something. My back gets pretty stiff if I just lounge about all day down here.”

‘I’d like to be the one to make his back sore.’ Lucifer’s thought before he could stop himself. He flushed gold and Adam held out a hand.

“Come on. We don’t want to miss dinner.”

Hesitantly Lucifer took the hand and let Adam help him to his feet. He looked at their clasped hands and ran his thumb over Adam’s knuckles.

Adam let his hand go but he didn’t seem to notice that Lucifer had touched him so strangely.

As Adam started for the door Lucifer lagged behind and cast a look at Adam’s behind. He bit his lip as arousal strummed through him.

Lucifer hadn’t been interested in someone for a long time. Adam probably wouldn’t be interested in him, but maybe it was time for Lucifer to start branching out so he was less lonely. This afternoon had felt good. Just sharing and bonding with someone.

It might be too soon for dating or even a one night stand. But he could start with making a new friend.

The little crush that had formed in his heart would fade over time. He had just been lonely and his brain and heart were getting things mixed up after Adam’s kindness.

Still, he’d be thinking about the way Adam’s rather firm backside looked in those jeans the next time Lucifer and his dick had a double date with his hands.

He fiddled with the ring on his finger before slipping it off and into his pocket.

Yeah. It was time to move on. Maybe one day he’d find another duck to share a nest with. Until then, he’d start trying to met the other ducks around the pond.

[ellitx]

Chapter 20: Wind's Soliloquy

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

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art belongs to: srr_yo

word count: 6.3k

           The rain had been pouring ever since. It never seemed to stop but it was not strong and heavy, fortunately. Yet the frequent raindrops made the land so gloomy as if the Hydro Archon was crying for days.

           A young maiden ran towards a nearby shelter, her shoes stepping on the muddy field and forming a small splash with each stride. Alas, she shielded herself from the cold droplets.

           The flowers in her arms were wet yet they still retained their shape and form. As much as she wanted to complain and scream at the sky for ruining her journey, she feared the Anemo Archon may hear her and punish her for saying such unthinkable things.

           She sighed disappointingly. Her fingers buried against the bouquet and held it tightly close to her. Her trip near the tower’s entrance had a purpose. She wasn’t aimlessly wandering, nor was she just a citizen passing through.

           No, she was here to ask for blessing from her nation’s god and his beloved. Legend has said if you offer an offering near the entrance, your wishes will be heeded. Of course, at first, she had doubts. There was no such thing as miracles. But she took back her word when an unbelievable and impossible incident became possible.

           Shortly after Ludi Harpastum, a festival of joy and celebration, a calamity struck. A massive storm surged. Houses were damaged, and the once vibrant fields lay ravaged. The disaster had devastated her family's home. Thankfully, the Knights of Favonius offered to let the victims stay at their headquarters for the meantime while they restore the city. And one thing she noticed, in particular, was how frequently the villagers are going outside the city to travel to the old broken tower.

           At first, she thought of it as simply gathering materials and the like. And her friends were tagging along with them, so she didn’t pay too much attention to it. But when those expeditions had become nothing with no result, she had grown suspicious.

           Everyone was bringing flowers, wines, and food.

           What were those for? That was the first thing she asked her mother after she returned to her “expedition”. Her mother smiled tiredly, patting her head affectionately before she motioned her to sit next to her.

           It seemed the offerings were meant to seek favor from the Anemo Archon.

           “By offering gifts and prayers to Lord Barbatos and his beloved, the city will be restored.”

           The daughter’s eyebrows scrunched together, her doubts growing further. “But will that really work? We can’t just simply sit still and pray then— poof!” She raised her arms, motioning them slowly like acting out an explosion, “Everything will magically return to normal,” she continued before flopping back to the edge of the bed.

           “Oh, you silly girl!” Her mother pulled her to her chest and playfully messed her hair which earned her a huff, but a lighthearted one which the mother fondly recognizes.

           The giggles and laughter died shortly as the dawn of silence took over the room. The candle was their only source of light and despite the poor lighting, she could easily notice there’s something on her mother’s mind that’s been distracting her.

           “Mom?” She called out. Her mother’s eyes flickered before snapping her gaze to her and forcing a smile.

           “It’s getting late, love. Do you want to hear a bedtime story?”

           It was ridiculous. Laughable even, that her mother just offered to tell her bedtime stories when she’s already in her teens.

           “I think I’ll pass. I’m too old already for bedtime stories,” she replied, trying to lighten the atmosphere with a playful grin. “Who said you’re too ‘old’ for bedtime stories?” The mother feigned shock, her tone higher than before.

           She chuckled, shaking her head at her mother's antics. “Mom, you know what I mean. I’m sixteen!”

           Her mother's expression softened, a flicker of sadness in her eyes that didn't go unnoticed. “You'll always be my little one, no matter how old you are.”

           The daughter’s heart tugged in guilt then sighed in defeat. Whether it’s because her mother was manipulating her feelings or not, she’s unable to resist her pleading gaze. “F-fine, I wouldn’t mind hearing another story as long as it’s you telling me.” The woman smiled widely and supported her weight by resting her face on her palm.

           “Legend tells of a corner of the city that has been forgotten by the wind.”

           Her fingers brushed over her hair, tucking it behind her daughter’s ear whilst lovingly gazing at her, taking notes of the changes in her features. She knows her mother is being sentimental again over how quickly she grows. She understands those sentiments yet it’s best not to speak of the topic and make it depressing when the blitheness was there a minute ago.

           “To reach that place, one must stand before the fountain and close their eyes, then wait for thirty-five heartbeats, then walk seven circles clockwise around the fountain followed by seven further circles anticlockwise. Upon opening one's eyes, one will find they have arrived at a little shop…”

           The daughter closed her eyes and let her ears envelop the tune of her kin’s soft voice. Time had slowed down between them. It was only her and her mother together in this lone room with a single stalk of candle. She didn’t mind. After all, her voice was calming and soothing.

             She didn’t exactly remember when and how it happened. Because by the time she woke up and heard ruckus and clamor outside of the Favonius’s Headquarters, her eyes couldn’t believe what she saw.

           Everything was restored. As if the aftermath of the storm wasn’t there from the beginning… Everyone was cheering, crying, applauding, and gathering at the plaza where the statue of the nation’s god stands. She didn’t bother changing her clothes and doing her morning routine.

           She needs to understand— know— what in the world just happened. Pushing and squeezing her lithe frame against the closely packed multitude, she looked for any familiar faces to answer her horde of questions that began to bubble over her head.

           She called out to her friend and finally freed herself from the applauding audience to stand next to her friend.

           The girl's friend turned with a wide grin, their eyes reflecting the joyous atmosphere. "Can you believe it? It's like a miracle! The city is restored!"

           "But how?" she questioned, her eyes scanning the crowd for anyone who might have answers.

           "Rumors say it was the Anemo Archon himself," they replied, pointing towards the statue of the god. "They say he granted our prayers and restored our home."

           She gazed at the statue, still skeptical of the sudden turn of events. “Wh-what are you talking about?” Her lips stuttered, unable to fathom their collective and unanimous praise.

           The corner of the friend's lips trembled. Their hands were shaking even if it was already on the girl's shoulder. She could feel them shaking— shaking like a scared dog but there was a big grin on their face.

           “The Anemo Archon forgave us of our sins.”

           That was the last thing she heard. The mutual and unified cries of the civilians, priests, and nuns, all together as they clasped their hands to one to honor and pray for their lord.

            But something felt amiss, a whisper of doubt amidst the jubilation. Why would the Anemo Archon intervene now? What sins were they being forgiven for? The questions swirled in her mind, leaving a lingering unease.

           If it was indeed the Anemo Archon's doing, she couldn't help but feel grateful. Yet, she wondered what had truly transpired. The mystery of the sudden restoration only deepened her curiosity.

           But days after days of trying to uncover the truth, all of those doubts are nothing but a disguise for her lack of faith in her god. She was just being an unfaithful devotee of Lord Barbatos. How could she? And she truly felt remorseful and guilty for having doubts of the Anemo Archon’s capabilities.

           He had saved their nation more than once aside from the recent events of the storm, and that was enough for her to be grateful to him. If it truly was a blessing from the Anemo Archon, a miracle of wherein she can believe in it, then please…

           The bouquet in her hold was settled on the concrete flooring. She ignored the raindrops collecting into the fabric of her blouse, focusing on her prayers and her prayers alone. Her fingers clasped together, intertwining into a tight grip as she muted out every noise, every raindrop.

           “Oh, Anemo Archon. I do not wish for anything but for the good health of my mother. I implore you to please guard her against illness and adversity,” she whispered fervently, her voice barely audible over the patter of the rain.

           Her mother had always been her pillar of strength, her unwavering support. The thought of losing her was too much to bear. So, with her heart heavy with worry, she offered her prayers to the divine, seeking protection and healing for her loved one.

  —

             The tempest of the snowstorm was undoubtedly so cold that even his cloak was not enough for him to provide the warmth he sought. Venti peeked over the window of his room, watching over the tower looming over them so ominously.

           A little jingling was heard next to him and it was enough to recognize who it was even if he was not looking where his little friend was.

           “We are so close to the outside world…” He mumbled to himself, vigilant eyes unfaltering as if he was fighting against the mere stack of bricks. “And tomorrow we’re going to face Decarabian…” He shifted his gaze to the figure sleeping on the other side of the bed.

           The little wisp levitated over to him slowly and tilted its head before letting out another chime of jingle. Venti chuckled and lightly patted the two little sprouts sticking out of its head.

           “I’m not afraid,” He replied. “But I am afraid of losing her…”

           He glanced at the sleeping figure once more, a wave of emotions crashing within him. The weight of the impending battle was heavy on his shoulders, but his love for her, and his determination to protect her, was even heavier. The wind stirred outside, a reminder of his responsibility to liberate the nation, but in this quiet moment, his thoughts were only for her.

           Barbatos’s two dotted white eyes squeezed, reassuring his friend as he twirled over to you and gave another set of ringing. He patiently waited if he had another word to say, but it was enough of an indication when the wisp returned to lodge next to him. Venti easily deciphered what he was saying:

           “I may be a wisp, but I will do everything in my power to protect the both of you.”

           His eyes creased before he cupped his hands and gently lifted Barbatos so they could see each other eye to eye. “Thank you. That means a lot. I started this rebellion myself and I’d be willing to do anything. However…”

           The young bard briefly paused, staring absently at where you lay and Barbatos followed his gaze. It was not unusual for Venti to be deep in his thoughts. With how they have often been together, it’s one characteristic of him that Barbatos took notice of.

           But unlike his deep pondering, within his deep blue eyes he could see swirls of uneasiness. Eyes of worry lost in contemplation, reflected a storm of concern. The furrowed brow framed windows into a troubled mind, where the weight of thoughts etched delicate lines around the eyes. In their depths, shadows danced, revealing a tumultuous sea of unease. The gaze, once bright, now carried a subdued flicker, like embers struggling against the encroaching darkness.

           Barbatos was quiet but he slowly approached his friend and flew over his shoulder. The wisp already knew what was bothering him, but he didn’t break the silence. Rather, he let the silence consume them.

           He already knew this war would be a matter of life and death. Full of bloodshed and ruthless crashing of swords and greatswords all for the sake of freedom. They had lost several allies, what more if Venti loses you?

           What more if you lose him?

           Venti bitterly laughed to himself, catching Barbatos off-guard. He wanted to soothe his friend, but the cold sweat running over to the nape of Venti’s neck and the clenching of his fist over to his shorts was enough to come to a conclusion: Venti was scared.

           How come when he’s this close— they’re so close, he began to cower? He prepared himself in and out. From days to weeks, weeks to months, he led and planned everything with precision. Did he doubt his capabilities? Or was he scared they would never obtain freedom? Perhaps the weight of responsibility pressed harder than he let on.

           The impending battle with Decarabian, a foe of colossal proportions, bore down on him. The prospect of facing an archaic power, an entity that once ruled over Mondstadt, sent shivers down even the god of freedom’s spine.

           Venti cast a sidelong glance at the peacefully slumbering figure beside him. In the quiet of the room, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest served as a stark reminder of what he stood to lose. The very thought of harm befalling you awakened a vulnerability he tried to bury beneath the bravado.

           He sighed, a mix of frustration and self-awareness. The war-torn history and the battles fought in the shadows, all led to this moment. Yet, the proximity of his friend, the one who anchored him, uncovered a layer of trepidation he never fully acknowledged.

           The little wisp fluttered near him, its tiny form a manifestation of loyalty. It chimed softly, a melody of encouragement. Venti managed a rueful smile, realizing that even Barbatos wasn’t immune to the currents of fear and doubt. The approaching conflict, an inevitable clash with the remnants of a bygone era, hung heavy in the air.

           Perhaps it was fate upon meeting two important people,  in Barbatos’s life; and never did he foresee he’d forge a deeper relationship with them.

           Amidst the raging storms, he thought he would never be heard but alas there a boy clad in a dark cloak with a lyre in his hand appeared in front of him.

           “Barbatos,” he called. “If anything happens to me, protect [Name] for me, alright?” Venti stood up from his seat and discreetly walked over to your bed. Barbatos watched from a distance. The bard’s hand gently brushed over your tousled locks as he lovingly smoothed the disarray of strands.

           Venti's eyes held a tenderness, a silent promise etched within the gentle caress. The room was filled with a hushed intimacy, interrupted only by the soft rustle of hair beneath his fingers. He delicately gathered a handful of your hair, the strands flowing through his fingers like silken threads. Holding them close to his lips, he pressed a tender kiss upon them.

           “Watch over her. Promise me that. Please…”

           Barbatos, observing this silent exchange, nodded in understanding. The air in the room seemed to shimmer with an unspoken bond, a connection that transcended the uncertainties of the impending conflict.

  —

             Freedom. That’s all that matters. That’s all that matters to the people of Mond. Freedom is everything to them, and if it were to be taken from them, they would rebel and fight for it to get what is rightfully theirs.

           That is what everyone fought for. That is what Venti fought for when the tyrant locked them up. And that freedom is what he promised to seek for his dearly beloved.

           The promise… That’s right, the promise.

           Barbatos made a promise to his friend: to guard and keep you safe from your father’s wrath. That he achieved. He did not need any of those extravagant praises from everyone, or a luxurious celebration that he protected the last survivor of the royal family. Your love and attention were enough for him as his honorarium, and if his plans went smoothly, then he couldn’t ask for more than your presence.

           But what about his promise to you? Not as Venti, not as Barbatos the Anemo Archon, but as Barbatos the wind wisp. He faintly recalled from his memories, vague echoes of your voice ringing in his head to protect your dear. He could hear your cries, he could vision your tearful face, and he could smell the faint aroma of smoke and blood from the past.

           “Barbatos, please. Protect Venti…”

           He stood at the precipice of conflicting roles, torn between the weight of his promise to the girl he cherished and the duty he bore as the Anemo Archon. The memories of her pleas echoed through the chambers of his mind, each word a poignant reminder of the sacrifice she had made.

           As he prepared for the impending battle against Decarabian, Barbatos couldn't shake the dual nature of his existence. The freedom he had fought for was now intertwined with the personal pledge he made to safeguard Venti—the mortal guise he wore to be closer to you.

           The wind wisp, a manifestation of his divine essence, hovered beside him, a silent witness to the internal struggle. Barbatos knew that protecting Venti meant more than shielding the bard from physical harm; it meant preserving the essence of the person he had become through his interactions with you.

           The wind wisp chimed softly, a comforting melody that seemed to say, "I'll protect what you hold dear." At that moment, Barbatos made a silent vow to honor both promises—to secure the freedom of Mondstadt and to shield the vulnerable heart of the bard who had become an inseparable part of his divine existence.

           Yet no matter how much he convinced himself that he still preserved the life of Venti for all these years, those were merely pathetic excuses he gave to himself that he was unable to protect him. That was the harsh truth he wished to never know. The harsh truth he often ran away from. The harsh truth is the least he wanted you to know. And because of that harsh truth, you will never be able to uphold your promise to Venti to travel the world with him.

           You were living a life of lies.

           “I hate you,”

           Such vile words escaped from your delicate lips, coated with nothing but hatred. All love was lost and diminished. Resentment smoldered within you, a slow-burning fire that refused to be extinguished.

           “I hate you!”

           Three venomous words stung into his heart and soul. His eyes, once alight with the sparkle of mischief, were now dimmed by the torrent of tears that streamed down his ethereal face. He reached out his hand to you as tears cascaded down like a torrent.

           “[Name], no… Don’t leave me, please!”

           His voice cracked, carrying the weight of a thousand heartbreaks. His outstretched hand trembled, fingers desperately reaching for something that was slipping away.

           The once carefree Anemo Archon was now a broken deity, his essence shattered by the cruelty of your hatred.

           “No, no, no!! Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me here!!”

           His chest heaved with sobs, each tear a testament to the agony that consumed him. The celestial realm seemed to weep alongside him, mirroring the storm within his soul.

           Barbatos jolted upright in bed, gasping for breath. The echoes of your anguished words still reverberated in his ears, a haunting melody that refused to fade. The room felt oppressive, shadows dancing on the walls like spectral remnants of the nightmare that had gripped him.

           His chest heaved as he tried to dispel the lingering emotions from the dream. The remnants of your hatred clung to him, a weight that threatened to drown him in a sea of regret. The moon cast a soft glow through the window, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had unfolded in the dream.

           With trembling hands, Barbatos wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, realizing that he had been pulled into the depths of a waking nightmare. The images of your tears and the venomous words hung in the air, a phantom reality that felt too close for comfort.

           He whipped his head and cast his eyes promptly into the quiet room until they landed on a maiden deep in her slumber. Barbatos sighed in relief and for a moment, he simply sat there, the silence broken only by the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat. The nightmare had been a cruel reminder of the consequences of his choices, a vivid manifestation of the fears that lingered in the recesses of his heart.

           The lies Barbatos had forged for years were now haunting him. The lies that shielded you from the brutal reality all for the sake of selfish love. Barbatos had meticulously woven a tapestry of deception to protect you from the burden of his divine obligations, but mostly from his growing sick and obsessive love for you.

           You still haven’t discovered he was the new Anemo Archon until the blonde traveler told you everything about him during the night of the Ludi Harpastum festival. Barbatos scoffed, recalling how you were so caught off guard when the truth finally surfaced after you were separated from him. If only that pesky traveler and his fairy companion just minded their own business, he wouldn't need to cast you into a deep yet tranquil slumber.

           With great reluctance, he drew himself up and looked at the girl who held a very special place in his heart. You’ve brought so much joy and happiness to his life, not to mention more laughter than anyone else ever could. To see you seething with anger and searing pain would bring a weight on his chest like nothing else.

           Barbatos slowly embraced your hand to his, slipping his fingers in between, and softly brushed his lips along your knuckles, kissing each of them one by one. His vision blurred as his gaze wandered towards your angelic features, but a sudden pang of panic gripped his heart.

           “I didn’t knock her hard, have I?” he asked himself, his mind suddenly clouded with worry. The archon sighed deeply, berating himself over his unplanned actions. It was fortunate he still knew how to wield his powers and put you to sleep. He just hoped he didn’t dose you too much where it’ll take you years for you to wake up. He could only hope you’ll wake up soon, otherwise he might throw another outburst in Mondstadt.

           You've always brought light into his world and filled him with warmth. In a matter of minutes, you've managed to affect him in ways he never thought possible. He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes tightly, replaying the many times he found comfort in your arms or gave him a loving smile. There were many things he would like to say, but for now, his turbulent state of mind is not helping him.

           Barbatos groaned in frustration, ruffling his head in sheer irritation. It took every ounce of strength within him to restrain himself from throttling some ignorant traveler. Those ungrateful bastards deserve to pay dearly for ruining his precious morning.

           His rigid frame softened and he shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. Barbatos slumped on the floor next to you and hugged his knees.

           As if afraid to wake up, it feels like a waste to even blink within this dream. And to think that the other side of the sky is so vast… Does he deserve this ending?

           Sometimes some things can’t be helped. While wounded by his own helplessness, the present in all its clumsiness, is changing into a brilliance of fabric reality.

           The more I protect it, the more it looks fragile. And the more I steal it, the more I want it…

           Barbatos sighed, the weight of his internal conflict bearing down on him. You’re everything to him—his source of strength, his light in the darkness, and the light at the end of the tunnel he was always seeking. The guilt that slowly piled upon him like countless millstones on a tree of regret and the past memories won’t let him move forward, hindering him from doing what’s right.

           He knew you deserved better than what he had given you. He’s been hiding a lot of things from you: his identity, his status as an archon, and even the death of Venti.

           Barbatos tugged his hair tighter, his frustration palpable in the agitated movements. He couldn't escape the relentless truth that bound him — because to you, Barbatos was merely your wisp friend. He was not the Anemo Archon, and certainly not the free-spirited bard.

           It frustrates me because I can’t be him and it begins to burn at my throat.

           Biting his lips, blood drew out. How cruel was he to decide to pose as your lover? He only wanted to be loved, cherished, and adored. To hide behind masks of illusions and cruelty? It’s not what you deserve.

           He clutched at his chest as if trying to quell the searing pain that echoed through his heart. The memories of carefree days as Venti taunted him like elusive specters. The laughter, the music, the unburdened joy — they felt like distant echoes mocking him in his current divine form.

           Barbatos needs you. Venti needs you. He fumblingly sauntered to your bed and gently opened his palms, caressing your soft skin. He felt a newborn warmth along him.

           The deceptive dance of his identity left him feeling vulnerable. The looming possibility that you might leave him once you wake up and still remember the truth was a haunting specter. Every moment spent with you was tinged with the fear of losing the connection he so desperately craved. For now, everything is falling into place. He'll continue to act as him even if it means to deceive you. But that won't ever happen again, he'll be careful— cautious— about everything he does around you. The past will never haunt him anymore. It will never touch you.

        You will never know. It was all a dream. A nightmare. But it's better not to mention anything of what happened that night, isn't it? It's the best and safest option. The world that should be smiling kindly to you and his friend reverted to his direction, taking their wishes that were never his from the beginning.

           There’s a place he yearns for but can never reach. The place he wants so much but can never grasp. He almost forgot to wish when he gazed in the distance.

           In his tightly clenched fist, his heartbeat is heating up again. Leaning down, he rested his head against your stomach and closed his eyes, breathing in the same pattern as yours in rhythm.

           “I love you,” he whispered, fluttering his lashes to where you lay and gazing at you oh so lovingly. His fingers trickled to your arm, clinging and clutching, before traveling to your bare neck. “You love me too, right, [Name]? You’ve always said you love me.”

           He crawled over you, his physique looming over your comatose state. His teal irises glittered as he peered closely at your sleeping face. His lips curved upwards in a smile before pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

           That dreamless sleep, the veil between worlds will fall aside. His lingering touch, beaming with emotions he wasn’t aware of, glistening with affection, reverence, and lust all at once, creating a warm nimbus aura around his body. All while his unguarded words formed something like a prayer.

           “Oh love, you’re so pretty… so tender, and so beautiful.”

           His slender finger gently traced the contours of your face, tracing every outline of the contour of your nose, cheeks, and lastly lips. It lingered for more than a few seconds. He leaned in, slowly and carefully. He stared at you and let them blur as he stroked your cheeks.

           There was no response, not even an inkling of recognition or reaction.

           He exhaled shakily, taking off any remorse or guilt left in his conscience, and pressed his lips against yours. He savored the sweet taste that lingered on your dry lips.

           I love you, I love you, I love you…

           Despite their parched state, he paid no mind, lost in the intoxicating essence of your embrace. His kiss was light and soft, yet it held a fervent passion as if the dryness of your lips only intensified the craving for the delectable flavor he found there.

           I love you so much, [Name]. The things you do to me…

           With a happy sigh, he closed his eyes and relished every bit of your breath, wanting nothing more than to get drunk on its sweetness. Barbatos slowly pulled away, his lips tugging your bottom lip before it bounced back to its place. He panted, blinking for a few moments.

           A kiss with you has always been his favorite, and it didn’t take too long for him to know he wanted more because shortly he went back and connected his lips with yours again.

           A kiss here, and another kiss, and another, and another. It went on a cycle, an endless loop that he didn't even know how long he had been kissing you repeatedly. So sweet. So enticing. One short kiss after another, he wanted to engrave this in his mind.

           With every passionate lip-lock, he became more obsessed. In all honesty, he felt that he would die if he stopped, the taste still lingering in his mouth and permeating through his whole being. You’re the ethereal drug, a celestial intoxication that transports him to heavenly realms.

           Barbatos, feeling an unsettling shift in the air, abruptly sensed an intruder nearing the ancient ruins and broke the kiss. He gritted his teeth and summoned swift wind spirits to investigate the entrance. Their ethereal forms swirled with urgency as they darted towards the source of the disturbance.

           Whoever dared to step foot in here will not be spared. He already warned them if they wish to be spared from his wrath. The archon's eyes, usually serene, now flickered with an intensity born of both irritation and vigilance as he awaited the wind spirits' report.

           Upon checking, a lone maiden was standing near the wind barriers. She placed the bouquet of Cecilia flowers on the altar created by the Church for their offerings.

           "For Mondstadt, as always. For the verdant plains, for the hills, and for the forests of Mondstadt. May they continue to flourish, as always. For Mondstadt, as always. For the everlasting freedom of Mondstadt from the blizzard and the tyrant, whose coldness and oppression are one and the same.”

           What a peculiar girl letting herself drenched in rain. The rain was strong and despite the bad weather, she still offered her prayers to him.

           “Oh, Anemo Archon. I do not wish for anything but for the good health of my mother. I implore you to please guard her against illness and adversity,”

           Her prayers echoed in his ears. Barbatos crossed his arms and watched her from afar through the eyes of the spirit he cast. A lot of things have changed in Mondstadt. The city, the village, and even Stormterror’s Lair where he currently resides with you.

           He didn’t pay any particular attention to the changes outside of the ruins. But he did notice many of his people frequently visited this area to pray and ask for their blessings. Perhaps someone from the Church must have noticed him and thought this was his abode, and decided to create a shrine here, but also making sure it won’t ever disturb him.

           It’s been a while since Ludi Harpastum ended. He didn’t want to admit it but he’s been counting the days since you’ve been asleep. From minutes to hours, hours to days, and days to weeks, he never left your side. But he didn’t merely sulk in the corner, waiting for signs of you waking up. Unlike before, he decided to terraform the ruins to make it more to your liking.

           He remembers very well that you love the garden of the manor, so he made a special area for you. He remembers you love your library in the tower, so he prepared lots of books for you to read. He remembers the fountain you’d always whisper your wishes at, so he built it for you. All these things he had done, he did it for you while he waited for you to open your eyes.

           The very essence of his being intertwined with the elements, breathing life into the desolate ruins. As he lifted his hands, a harmonious dance of nature began.

           The once crumbling tower regained its majestic stature, rising from the ground as if it had never suffered the scars of time. Petals of vibrant flowers cascaded in a gentle descent, wrapping around the structure like a colorful embrace. An intricate tapestry of blossoms adorned the surroundings, replacing the debris and rubble with a carpet of nature's beauty.

           The Anemo Archon had woven a tapestry of renewal and growth, turning the dilapidated ruins into a sanctuary of life and vitality. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of blossoms, and the ambiance echoed the melody of his power, a testament to the god's ability to shape the very fabric of the world.

           He made the once rubbled, stormy lair into a sanctuary haven for his dear. It’s his gift for you that once you’re awake, you’ll dance around with him and live the life with him you’ve always dreamed of.

           He must admit though, the shrine built by the Church of Favonius was exceptionally well made and further enhanced the beauty of this sanctuary. Barbatos sighed, contemplating if he should aid the young girl by sheltering her. He never meant to become a ruthless archon and that is far from his ideals.

           His drastic change was all because of Aether. Of course, it was him. He’s too smart for his own good and Barbatos hates how quick he is to catch on to his relationship with you. But he’s here to change everything. So if he wanted to make a good image as an archon to his people, then so be it. After all, he only wanted your perception of him and that’s all he cares about. Nothing more, nothing else.

           He’ll make everything right this time. If you see him as reliable and trustworthy, then he’ll be loved by you. Finally taking his decision, he ordered his little spirits to guide the girl to find shelter. As for her prayers…

           Barbatos is no genie. He couldn’t guarantee all of his followers’ prayers. He’s not like the Dendro Archon who could cure illnesses…

           He sighed, the weight of his responsibilities settling on his shoulders. Being an archon was not a walk in the park. The expectations of the people, the intricacies of diplomacy with other nations, the constant struggle to maintain balance—all of it took its toll. Barbatos couldn't afford to let his guard down.

           News about his rampage must have reached his neighboring countries and he doesn’t want another burden to be added to his already tumultuous situation. As he watched the wind spirits guide the girl to safety, he couldn't help but feel the isolation that came with his position.

           The tower, now restored, stood as a symbol of his power, but it also harbored the secrets he desperately wanted to keep hidden. Aether's presence had disrupted the delicate equilibrium he had crafted, forcing him to confront the challenges that came with being both a god and a man.

           His thoughts circled back to you. Would you ever understand the complexities of his existence? The burden he carried for Mondstadt and its people? As the archon, he had to maintain an image, but beneath the divine facade, there was a being struggling with the desire for love and understanding. He also wanted you to see him as Barbatos.

           Not the Anemo Archon, but simply Barbatos, a young man who loves you through Celestia and Teyvat. Who harbored feelings for you for millennia.

           He shook off his inner turmoil, his eyes focusing on the horizon beyond the borders of the sanctuary. The wind carried whispers of prayers, and he knew he couldn't fulfill them all. The duties of an archon were exceptionally hard, and the struggles were his to bear. The winds howled in response, a melancholic melody echoing the challenges he faced.

           He sighed for the nth time, exhaustion began to creep over him. He placed the back of his hand over to his head to ease the throbbing pain of a migraine. The constant internal conflict and the strain of maintaining appearances were taking their toll.

           As he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he summoned a gentle breeze to soothe his troubled mind. The rustle of leaves and the familiar scent of the wind helped him find a moment of peace amidst the chaos. He turned his back and returned to where you were.

           Barbatos kissed you on the lips and it calmed him, more effective than the breeze he used to himself. You’re always his cure, the one constant that brought tranquility to his turbulent existence. The soft touch of your lips against his was a momentary escape from the weight of his responsibilities. As he pulled away, a faint smile played on his lips, grateful for the solace you unknowingly provided him.

           “I promise you, I’ll make this our sanctuary.”

           At the end of his lonely world, maybe he’ll arrive at his true world with no regrets or remorse.

taglist: @trust-the-oxygen @so-uncute

sorry for the delay on the update. i announced on my tumblr that i would be posting this chapter in late august or early september but a lot of things happened and i self-sabotaged this sob

[alexandraisyes]

hi, same anon that asked if your symptoms go away or not. no clue why I worded it like that, but I meant if you experience it worse in intervals (obviously the symptoms are always there but get more noticeable at certain times). since you've answered my (horribly worded) question already, though, I raise another question: are there any resources that aren't horrifically ableist, where I can look further into ASPD, its symptoms and how they interact with things such as autism and other cluster B disorders? I ask so I don't keep asking you circular questions like you're equipped to diagnose a stranger with a personality disorder.

Resources are far and few to come by. A lot of what I know has been through extensive interpersonal study (talking to other people with the disorder). The fact of the matter is that most people with the disorder don’t freely talk about the disorder. You can look in online forum spaces if you want, or just get lucky and meet someone with the disorder in real life or happen to get super lucky and they’re already in your friend group. I have a sociopath and a malignant narcissist in my current friend group.

Understanding neurology would also help you in understanding any disorder, because there’s plenty of research on the neurological side of ASPD. Just not a lot of the psychological side. But if you understand neurology you understand psychology (most psychologists don’t fully understand neurology, they’re two different types of medicine with far different fields).

If you’re looking for how it interacts with other cluster b disorders, you can probably find at the very least one, maybe up to ten different “influencers” who are malignant narcissists (ASPD + NPD) who talk about the disorder on varying platforms. As stereotyped as it is, narcissists do actually love to talk about themselves.

As far as how it interacts with other neurodivergencies? Just ask someone with ASPD if they have comorbid neurodivergent disorders and what it’s like. However you aren’t going to find anything on having comorbid ASPD and autism. The two physically cannot coexist on a neurological level. (Trust me, I tried, I had a misdiagnosis of autism and was trying to wrap my head around it too).

So if someone with ASPD tells you they’re also autistic they’re wrong. They either don’t have ASPD or they don’t have autism. It’s always one or the other.

This is because ASPD and ASD are both largely caused by the amygdala. In ASD the amygdala is enlarged, growing abnormally quick between 6 and 12 months old. So you aren’t actually born autistic, but you may as well be. The faster the amygdala grows during that time the more severe the symptoms are presenting and the younger the symptoms will be noticeable.

ASPD on the other handle is caused by a reduced amygdala. Deformed sounds harsh but yeah it’s basically deformed. It’s smaller than normal, with an extremely regressed growth rate.

I could potentially go into the specifics but that’s a whole other post.

And I can’t diagnose anyone, online or off, so I will never try to. However, I am a reliable resource for understanding ASPD since it quite literally plagues me. So I can at the very least answer questions about something I’m unreasonably specialized in. Especially when the majority people in the psychiatric field of medicine aren’t specialized in it at all and there’s not enough genuine research for them to fake it either. And unfortunately most people aren’t willing to have compassion for things they don’t understand.

[srslyblvck]

the devil you know, avengers

pairing: avengers x fem!reader

synopsis: the avengers seem really desperate as they come to you—the person who went under their skin like no one else to help them win against hydra. while they are walking on eggshells around you, you are having fun causing chaos.

warnings: mentions of y/n (maybe), blood, violence, gore

word count: 3.5k

chapter: 6/?

series masterlist

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ YOU WOKE UP FEELING better than the night before. The weight of your past still lingered, but you'd managed to shove it back into the shadows where it belonged. You weren’t going to let it consume you. Not today. Today, you were back in control.

The cuffs were still locked around your wrists, the familiar, metallic weight always present, always suppressing the power that constantly hummed beneath your skin. You never had a choice in the matter—one of the Avengers would have to unlock them for you when the time came. But it didn’t matter right now. You were used to them.

As you made your way to the briefing room, you casually let the cuffs clink together, the sound echoing down the hall. You knew it would annoy the team, which was exactly why you did it. Might as well make an entrance.

Sure enough, as you pushed the door open and stepped inside, the collective sound of groans and sighs greeted you. Tony was seated at the head of the table, eyes glued to his tablet, while Natasha, Clint, Bucky, Sam, and Steve were all scattered around the room, already deep into their discussion.

Without missing a beat, you made your presence known by dropping into an empty chair with a loud clink of your cuffs against the table. “Miss me?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you leaned back, folding your arms behind your head.

Tony didn’t even look up. “You ever enter a room without making a scene?”

“Why would I? Life’s more fun when you’re dramatic,” you quipped, tapping the cuffs together again, just to get on his nerves.

Clint shot you a glare, but it was more playful than serious. “Do you have to do that?”

You smirked. “Oh, was that bothering you? My bad.”

Steve finally stepped forward, arms crossed, looking as serious as ever. “Alright, let’s get started.”

Tony flicked a few holographic displays into the air with a casual wave of his hand. “So, as you know, our lovely friend here” —he gave a quick nod in your direction— “retrieved some decent intel from Hydra. Some of it’s encrypted, but we’ve already cracked most of it.”

You leaned back in your chair, eyes on the holograms. It was good to see the focus back on Hydra and not… well, not on you.

“Turns out,” Tony continued, “Hydra’s been working on something big. Bigger than we thought. They’ve got new tech—stuff we haven’t seen before. Weapons capable of destabilizing entire cities. It’s not just about targeting governments or military sites anymore. They want to cause mass chaos.”

Natasha leaned forward, studying the maps. “Their operations are spread thin, though. They’re pushing too hard, too fast. They can’t hold onto all this territory.”

“Which is where we come in,” Steve added, pointing to a section of the map. “We hit their key locations, cut off their supply lines, and cripple their command structure.”

“Sounds like a blast,” you said, leaning forward to get a better look at the holograms. “So, where do I get to have fun?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “Your definition of fun tends to involve blowing things up.”

“And your point?”

“Nothing,” Tony said with a smirk, swiping at the display to pull up more detailed files. “Just making sure we know what we’re dealing with.”

The conversation flowed smoothly, and for once, you didn’t feel the weight of everyone’s attention pressing down on you. No one treated you any differently—at least, not much. Steve was still all business, Natasha was her usual sharp, observant self, and Clint, well, Clint never gave you a break. That was normal.

But Bucky… there was something in the way he watched you, something that wasn’t hostility. He wasn’t glaring. He wasn’t throwing daggers at you from across the room. Instead, he seemed… curious. Not pitying, not judging. Just trying to figure something out.

You didn’t like it.

So, naturally, you shot him a grin. “What’s the matter, Barnes? Finally come around to my charm?”

Bucky blinked, clearly caught off guard, and for a split second, he looked like he didn’t know how to respond. “No.”

“Well, that’s disappointing,” you said, leaning back with a fake sigh. “I thought we were making progress.”

Clint snorted. “You’ve got a weird way of measuring progress.”

“Progress is subjective,” you said, and that earned a few smirks from the team. You could feel the tension easing, and that’s how you liked it. Distractions. Jokes. Keep it light, keep it moving.

Steve pointed at another section of the map. “There’s one more thing. Hydra’s central hub for communications. It’s buried deep underground in a classified location. We’ve intercepted some chatter, and if we can hit that base, we might be able to knock out their entire intel network.”

“That’s our next target,” Natasha added, eyes sharp. “But we need to move quickly. Hydra knows we’re onto them.”

“Great,” you said, rubbing your hands together. “Can’t wait.”

As the meeting went on, you noticed something: no one brought up your past. Not a single mention of the files or your connection to Hydra. You knew they had seen it by now—they had to have. And yet, nothing. Steve didn’t ask. Natasha didn’t probe. Bucky didn’t push.

Maybe they were just giving you space, or maybe they understood that you weren’t ready to talk about it. Whatever the reason, you were grateful. You weren’t ready to deal with questions, and you sure as hell weren’t about to show any cracks.

By the end of the meeting, the team had laid out the next steps, and Tony was already preparing to crack more of the encrypted files. You stood up from your chair, stretching as you glanced around the room.

“Well, looks like I’ve got some time to kill before we go blow up a Hydra base. Anyone up for poker?” you asked, a grin spreading across your face.

Sam shook his head, laughing. “I’m not losing any more money to you.”

“Your loss,” you said with a shrug, heading for the door. “But don’t say I didn’t offer.”

As you left the room, you felt that familiar sense of control settle back into place. You were back to being you. The sarcastic comments, the cocky attitude—it was all armor, but it was armor you knew how to wear well. You weren’t going to let anyone see the cracks. Not now, not ever.

And if they suspected anything? Well, you’d just have to keep them guessing.

The next mission kicked off early the following day, and unlike the usual plan of sending you in solo to do the sneaky, chaotic work, this time the entire team was with you. It was rare for everyone to hit the field at once, but Hydra’s operation was too big, too dangerous to risk any mistakes. You didn’t mind—having the Avengers at your back meant more targets, more action, and of course, more chances to annoy the hell out of them.

The mission had been going smoothly, at least for the first part. The team moved like a well-oiled machine, each of you knowing your role. You were no exception, even if your powers were still suppressed by the cuffs locked around your wrists. But you didn’t let that stop you. Instead, you leaned into your usual brand of annoying commentary, letting your voice fill the comms with quips and sarcastic remarks to keep everyone on their toes.

"Any chance we can make this a little harder?" you muttered, flipping a Hydra soldier over your shoulder with ease. "I’m starting to get bored."

“Don’t jinx it,” Natasha warned, knocking out a guard with a swift elbow to the temple. “We’ve still got the hard part ahead.”

You clinked your cuffs against each other, deliberately irritating Clint, who shot you an exasperated look as he fired off a few arrows. “Are you seriously doing that now?”

You smirked, shrugging. “You know me. Gotta find some way to entertain myself while you all hog the fun.”

The team had split into two groups once inside the facility. You, Clint, Sam, and Steve were tasked with disabling Hydra’s weapon supply, while Tony, Natasha, and Bucky went after the intel. The plan was straightforward, at least for now. But you knew better than anyone that Hydra had a way of turning straightforward into a nightmare at a moment’s notice.

And it did.

As you and the others pushed deeper into the base, Hydra soldiers came at you in waves. It was fine at first—manageable. But soon, the corridors were swarming with them. You fought them off with every ounce of skill you had, but without your powers, it was harder to keep up the momentum.

“Guys,” Sam called from above, using his wings to stay out of reach of the Hydra soldiers, “it’s getting real crowded down here.”

“I’ve noticed!” Steve grunted, knocking out another guard as they just kept coming.

“Could really use a power boost right about now,” you muttered, driving your knee into a soldier’s stomach and slamming him into the floor.

“I’ll handle that,” Tony’s voice cut through the comms. “FRIDAY, release the cuffs.”

With a satisfying click, the cuffs around your wrists fell away, and instantly, you felt the rush of power flood back into you. The shadows around you twitched and stirred like old friends returning from a long vacation.

“Ah, much better,” you said with a grin as you launched into action. The shadows coiled around you like extensions of your body, yanking Hydra soldiers into the darkness before they could react.

“Show-off,” Clint grumbled, firing an arrow that exploded in a burst of smoke.

“Jealous?” you quipped, sweeping another soldier off his feet with a tendril of shadow. “I can teach you how to be cool later.”

“You wish.”

Despite the banter, things were heating up. Hydra wasn’t pulling any punches, and it became clear that they weren’t just trying to slow you down—they were trying to wipe you out. The team fought hard, but there were too many of them.

“Behind you!” Steve shouted suddenly.

You turned just in time to see a Hydra soldier charging at Clint with a weapon raised, ready to strike. Without thinking, you acted.

Throwing yourself in front of Clint, you summoned the shadows to wrap around the soldier’s legs, yanking him to the ground. But just as you moved to strike, a searing pain shot through your leg—a Hydra soldier behind you had gotten off a lucky shot with an energy weapon, the blast catching you in the thigh.

The impact sent you stumbling, your vision going white with pain for a split second. But you held your ground, gritting your teeth as you knocked the soldier away and slumped against the wall, one hand clutching your leg where blood was already soaking through the fabric of your suit.

Clint, who had been busy dealing with another guard, turned just in time to see what had happened. His eyes widened. “What the hell, man?!”

You gave him a strained smile, trying to play it off. “Just… you know. Thought you could use a hand.”

He glanced at the wound in your leg, his expression shifting from confusion to something almost like concern. “You’re hit.”

“Wow, you’re observant,” you muttered, wincing as you tried to stand up straight. The pain was sharp, but manageable. “I’m fine. Really.”

Steve appeared at your side, his shield held up to deflect another round of shots from the Hydra soldiers swarming around you. “We need to fall back. You’re injured.”

“I said I’m fine,” you repeated, trying to push the pain away as you summoned more shadows to keep the guards at bay. “Just a scratch.”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “You call that a scratch?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Despite the sarcasm, you could feel the wound slowing you down. Every step was agony, but you weren’t about to let the others see how much it hurt. You’d already saved Clint’s life—no point making a big deal out of the fact that you’d taken a hit for it.

“Alright, let’s finish this,” you grunted, waving the others ahead. “I can still fight.”

“You’re not going anywhere with that leg,” Steve said, clearly not buying your bravado.

“I can keep up, Rogers. Trust me.” You tried to push forward, but the pain flared up again, and you stumbled slightly.

Clint caught your arm, steadying you with a scowl. “Yeah, you’re not fine.”

“I’m still standing, aren’t I?” you shot back, though you knew you weren’t exactly proving your point.

Before either of you could argue further, Tony’s voice cut through the comms again. “Weapons system is down. We need to meet up at the extraction point, now.”

“Copy that,” Steve said, his voice tight. “We’re moving out.”

The team regrouped quickly, and despite your injury, you insisted on pulling your weight as you limped along with the others. Clint kept throwing you glances, like he expected you to collapse at any second, but you ignored him, focusing on getting to the exit before Hydra could regroup.

By the time you reached the quinjet, you were drenched in sweat, the pain in your leg pulsing with every step. You staggered up the ramp, trying not to let it show, but as soon as you were inside, you collapsed onto one of the seats, your breath ragged.

Natasha, who had been helping to cover the retreat, took one look at you and raised an eyebrow. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you muttered, wincing as you pressed a hand to the wound in your leg.

Clint shook his head, sitting down across from you. “They took a hit saving my ass.”

Natasha’s eyes flicked between the two of you, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something—probably some comment about heroics and recklessness—but she held back. Instead, she nodded and turned to help with the takeoff.

Tony was the last to board, hovering just above the ramp. “Alright, everyone in one piece?”

“More or less,” you muttered under your breath.

Tony glanced at you, his face hidden behind the mask of his suit, but you could practically feel his eye-roll. “Nice work out there. Try not to die before we get back, okay?”

“No promises,” you replied, leaning back as the quinjet took off, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain settled in. You’d taken a hit, sure, but you weren’t about to let it slow you down.

And at least Clint was still breathing.

That was a win in your book.

By the time the quinjet neared the Avengers compound, the adrenaline that had been keeping you going finally ran out. The pain in your leg had become a constant throb, and your vision blurred around the edges. You tried to shake it off, to stay focused, but the exhaustion weighed down on you like a lead blanket. Every breath felt heavier, harder to draw in.

“Hey, you good over there?” Clint asked, glancing at you from his seat across the quinjet.

“Yeah, just… tired,” you muttered, your voice quieter than you intended. “No big deal.”

But it was a big deal. You could feel yourself slipping. The room swayed, and you blinked rapidly, trying to stay conscious, but the darkness creeping in from the edges of your vision was relentless. You slumped back in your seat, your head lolling to the side as your body gave in to the exhaustion and pain.

“Uh, guys?” Clint’s voice came again, a little more urgent this time. “I think we’ve got a problem.”

You barely registered his words before everything went black.

When you woke up, everything was a blur of voices and movement. You were vaguely aware of someone speaking—Tony, maybe?—and the familiar sound of the quinjet’s engines humming beneath you. But you couldn’t move, couldn’t open your eyes.

"FRIDAY, check her vitals," Tony’s voice cut through the haze.

"Vitals are dropping," FRIDAY replied. "She's lost a significant amount of blood. She needs immediate medical attention."

There was a pause, and then another voice—Steve, calm but tense. "We need to get her to the medbay. Now."

You felt strong arms lift you off the seat, cradling you carefully but firmly. It wasn’t rough, but the movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through your leg, dragging you further out of the fog.

"Barnes, you’ve got her?" Tony asked, and you felt a shift in the air around you.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, his voice steady. "I’ve got her."

Bucky’s metal arm was cool against your skin, and despite the haze, you could feel how careful he was with you. He wasn’t his usual stiff self, the one who acted like you were a problem waiting to happen. This was different.

As the quinjet landed, Bucky carried you down the ramp, the world a blur of lights and voices around you. You weren’t fully aware of it, but you felt the rush of movement as the others cleared a path toward the medbay. You heard Steve barking orders, and then Tony was there, walking alongside Bucky, his voice calm but serious.

"Get Helen Cho on standby," Tony said to FRIDAY. "We need her in the medbay ASAP."

Your vision swam again, and for a moment, you lost track of time. When you came to, you were lying on a medbay bed, the cold metal of the table beneath you strangely comforting. The hum of machines filled the room, and the faint scent of antiseptic told you that you were in safe hands.

When you finally woke up, it took a second to remember where you were. The medbay was quiet, save for the faint beeping of a monitor nearby. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the bright lights above you, and then turned your head to the side.

Dr. Helen Cho stood nearby, looking through a tablet, her brow furrowed in concentration. You recognized her immediately, even through the post-mission haze. She had a reputation for being the best in her field, but right now, she just looked incredibly focused—and, if you were being honest, annoyingly attractive.

You grinned, the familiar cocky smirk returning as you found your voice. “Well, this is a nice way to wake up. Did you personally request to treat me, or is that just a bonus?”

Helen glanced up from her tablet, her expression changing from professional focus to a sly smile. “You’re awake, then. Good. I thought you might’ve decided to sleep through the whole thing.”

“I figured I’d give you a chance to admire my rugged good looks while I was out,” you said, your tone teasing as you leaned back into the pillow. “But I’m happy to keep you company now that I’m awake.”

She chuckled, setting the tablet down on the counter beside you. “I’ll admit, you’re not the worst patient I’ve had. But maybe save the flirting until after I’m done making sure you’re not going to bleed out.”

You raised an eyebrow, ignoring the dull ache in your leg. “Who says I can’t multitask? I can flirt and recover at the same time. You know, efficient use of my talents.”

Helen shook her head, clearly amused. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“I try,” you said, flashing her a grin. “Gotta keep things interesting around here. Though I’d be happy to hear your assessment of my… condition. I’m sure you’ve seen worse, but I bet I look really good while injured.”

She leaned over you, mockingly serious for a second. “Oh, no doubt. The blood really brings out your eyes.”

You were about to fire back another comment when the door slid open, and Bucky walked in, clearly not in the mood for banter.

“Alright, lovebirds, that’s enough,” Bucky said, raising an eyebrow at the two of you. “This is a medbay, not a date.”

You glanced at him with a smirk. “Jealous, Barnes?”

Bucky crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Please. I’m just here to make sure you don’t annoy the person who’s keeping you alive.”

Helen chuckled softly and stood back up, her expression turning more professional. “She's fine now. The wound was clean, no permanent damage. Just need to stay off her feet for a while.”

Bucky shot you a knowing look. “Hear that? That means no running off. Doctor’s orders.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender, trying not to wince at the soreness in your leg. “Fine, fine. I’ll take it easy.”

“Good,” Bucky said, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Because I don’t feel like dragging your unconscious body back to the med bay again anytime soon.”

Helen smiled at you, a teasing glint still in her eyes as she picked up her tablet. “I’ll leave you in Bucky's capable hands, then.”

You nodded, closing your eyes as the exhaustion finally caught up to you. You’d done your part, and for now, that was enough.

Before sleep fully claimed you, you couldn’t resist one last comment.

“Hey, Barnes?”

He stopped, turning back. “Yeah?”

“Tell Helen she can come check on me anytime.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Get some sleep.”

And with that, you drifted off, a satisfied smirk still on your face.

[the-s1lly-corner]

A miniature flashlight on a keychain (Ticci Toby x Reader) (Ending 5)

this one might be a little... eh... compared to the other endings but i prommy i was into this ive just been all over the place lately-- putting the polls back to 1 week since my motivation is.. hmm... so remember to vote on the poll at the bottom of this post if you wanted someone else! notes: reader is gn, admin is still figuring out how he wants to write toby, jeff is an asshole cws: none word count: 1.9k

You reach your hand into the hat and pull out…

A tiny flashlight on a keychain. Without giving it much extra thought your thumb flips the switch to find that the light does indeed work. You couldn’t immediately think of who it could belong to, but you quickly get your answer when you hear Jeff elbowing Toby hard in the ribs and giving him a look. Jeff’s eyes dart between you and Toby, and under the mess that he calls his hair you can see him raising his brows at the proxy. 

You cannot read Toby’s face due to the goggles and mouth covering he was wearing. Jeff shifts to grab him by the back of his hoodie, and he motions for you to follow as he basically manhandles Toby down the hallway who only really seems to be fighting back due to the rough treatment. You’re shoved into the closet with Toby not following too far behind.

“Remember: seven minutes and then I’m swinging the doors open-” His eyes flick to Toby, “Don’t get too crazy in here,” He cackled and slammed the doors shut. You can see the shadows of Jeff’s feet under the door remain for a few seconds, before he finally makes his departure. 

You take a moment to readjust yourself on the floor into a more comfortable position, however you find it hard as the shock wears off enough for you to realize Jeff basically tossed Toby haphazardly on top of you. Not that Toby was particularly heavy, though, and you were able to push him to the side with relative ease.

…Or you would have been able to if you placing your hand on his shoulder didn’t snap him out of whatever trance he was in, prompting him to scramble off of you and basically slam himself against the wall across from you- giving you more than enough space to fall into a more comfortable position on the floor. Toby’s eyes bounce around from your face, to your body, the floor, the wall, the door- really anywhere he could look in the darkness until he fully assessed. 

After a few seconds he seemed to actually look at you and untense from where he pressed himself together, finally falling slack against the wall.

As if he hadn’t just leaped across the closet he greeted you, as he would any other time he ran into you everyday. 

“Hey,” 

Short and as casual as he could muster. 

You nod your head. 

“Yo,”

The air fell silent between the two of you, only serving to highlight the awkwardness radiating off of the man in front of you- if you squinted through the darkness you could see his jaw working behind his face covering. 

“So you and Jeff, what was that all about?” You asked. 

“Nothing, he’s just-t being an asshole… What’s new?” He rolled his eyes, but he now avoided looking at your face. You only offer a soft “oh..” and fall back into silence. 

You pat your palms against your thighs, and Toby cracked the knuckles of his fingers. At this rate, you were sure the entire seven minutes were going to spent like this- and while you wouldn’t be totally against it, you… weren’t sure if you could take much more of the suffocating atmosphere without at least saying something.

“How come you picked this game? Jeff said-” 

“Who cares what J-Jeff said?” Toby nearly hissed, only to soften as you pull away from him. He cracked another joint in his knuckle and reeled himself back in. 

He was more irritable than he normally was. It wasn’t an uncommon sight to see Toby snapping at others however something seemed. 

Off. 

When he finally brought his eyes back to you he seemed to gather himself to pull an entire 180 in his attitude- or at least pretend to for the time being- you… weren’t exactly sure. 

“I was actually hoping someone in specific pulled my keychain,” 

Now you could recall: Jeff had said that Toby- or “Lover boy” as he had so affectionately called him- was hoping for his crush to pull his item. Before you could bring yourself to speak you found yourself thinking several things. 

Namely, who was his crush?

You scraped through your mind for a long moment. It couldn’t be Slenderman, he practically saw him as a father; and by extension he viewed Splendorman as an uncle. It couldn’t have been Jane because he already knew she wasn’t going to be attending the party… You lingered on Jeff for a moment but decided to file that away for another day- Nina viewed him as a brother… 

And secondly- had you ruined his plans when you drew out the flashlight? 

Your moment of silence only lasted a few seconds before you pushed him to continue. “‘S’that so?” 

Toby nodded.

“Who were you hoping to get then?” You ask, he doesn’t say anything but he does lean his head towards you- and much like earlier with Jeff you could see his eyebrows raise up behind his messy brown hair, copying the look his friend had given him just a minute or two before.

It clicked.

“Ah-!” Is really the only word you can get out before the realization sinks deeper and deeper- you could feel your face burning hotter with each second as your hands spread as far as they can across your thighs and grip them.

You weren’t exactly uncomfortable, if anything you were completely taken off guard. 

You took a deep breath through cracked teeth and steeled yourself for whatever was to come next. You were thankful that Toby decided to be kinder today and let you have this much time to compose yourself.

You always took Toby to be the type to want an answer in the exact seconds after confessing, however he was currently proving your idea of him wrong. 

You decide to be bold, and your effort rewards you by catching him off guard. 

“You said you wanted to try to… ‘get some’?” You asked, recalling Jeff’s words as he had pawned the responsibility of the choice of game off to Toby. 

In an instant the smug and teasing look he gave you was replaced with something more scattered as he tripped over his own words to explain himsef.

“See- nonono- n-n-no! Th-at’s not at all what I said- You see-” Toby’s gloved hands flung into the air in front of him, waving around as he tried to find his voice. The fingers curled as he groaned- likely internally cursing Jeff in his mind for the wording he had chosen. 

“Uffgh!” 

“Take your time,”

He pushed his goggles up and let them rest on top of his head, and he rubbed his eyes. 

One deep breath became two. 

“H-He makes it sound so…” His mouth covering scrunched as he grimaced. He went ahead and pulled it down. He tucked it into his jacket pocket and looked at you.

“I just-t think you’re…” He paused to find the words. 

“Cute…”

His hands lay limb in his lap as his eyes lowered to just below your face, somewhere on your neck. 

You only smile and offer a soft chuckle. “You think I’m cute?”

“And hot-t and-” He started but stopped as you dragged yourself across the floor closer to him. 

“Well you’re lucky, because I think you’re cute too,” 

He blinks slowly at you, the flush of his cheeks made incredibly obvious thanks to his pale complexion. 

You hover your hands over his upper arm and look at him. He shuffles it against your open palms and you gently clasp your hands around it. You press your body into the side of his and rest your head into his shoulders- completely taking the lead as he squirmed slightly under you… despite that he tugs you back against him when you try to backpedal and retreat. 

He wanted this, he simply wasn’t used to this- or expecting it really. 

You sigh softly as you get comfortable.

You reach a hand towards his lap and grab one of his hands. 

“I know this isn’t exactly, giving you some-” 

Toby groaned above you but you only giggled in response.

“But I don’t actually… know what you would expect from a statement like that,” 

Toby pulled his head away from yours and stared down at you. You readjust yourself to look him dead in the eye. “I’m open if you have any suggestions, though… no quickies, though,” You stick your tongue out. “I was-n’t-!” He inhaled sharply through his nose.

“Only teasing of course,” You chuckle. 

“Well…” You started up again, but you didn’t get the chance to say anything as the thundering sound of footsteps outside quickly approached.

Was it time?

Why didn’t Jeff give a warning?  

You didn’t get much time to think much of anything else as light practically assaults your eyes as it floods into the dark room. The blurred image of Jeff stands above the two of you as he pants raggedly- both of his arms bracing himself against the doorframe to keep himself standing. 

“Times- up!” He barked through gasps. 

He was looking directly in front of him at the wall.

He finally slowly lowers his head to look at you and Toby cuddling into one another on the floor. He clicks his tongue against his teeth- the fact you can see the movement through the cuts in his cheeks makes you mildly uncomfortable. 

“Times up,” He repeated, and looked down at Toby with an almost teasing glint in his eye. Toby swats at his arm as he pulls the two of you out of the small closet. 

“Maybe next time sport,” 

“I’m older than you.” Toby muttered shortly, not at all noticing the arm that he had wrapped around your shoulders. 

He retracted it when he did finally notice. That only seemed to fuel Jeff more as he threw his hands up defensively. “I’m just saying- actually I’m surprised you got that far,” His wide blue eyes glue themselves onto you. “You know you can play again if you want, Toby’s got stage fright you know-” 

Sometimes you wondered if Jeff and Toby actually were friends.

Even you found yourself becoming annoyed at the burned man’s words. 

So annoyed in fact that you decided to stick it to him by tugging Toby towards you by the strings of his hoodie and pressed a quick kiss on his cheek. You didn’t give it much thought, and you were probably going to roll later when it sank in how cringe the action was in response to the teasing. But at least in the moment it caught both of them off guard. 

Both men fall silent.

“Well damn, okay then, he’s the bitch then,” 

Jeff finally lays off of Toby, and walks down the hall. “Guess he actually said something then… not bad,” You heard him mutter under his breath as he went back to the living room to continue the game. 

You finally release Toby, and spin on your heel to face him. He snaps right back to his full height and stares down at you- or through you. 

He is… so…

Red. 

“I was going to do that my-self,” He sounded so genuinely defeated when he finally let the words spill. 

You blink. He cracks you a grin and you follow. “I guess not all of your plans can go through I guess,” You shrug and shift your weight between each foot. 

“So…”

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and copies your motions, the both of you shifting together in unison. 

“Do you… want to go out for a walk? I mean-” He starts. “If that’s okay with you,” 

“I’d like that…” 

A thought crosses your mind.

“You want to go through the front while holding hands? Really rub it in asshat’s face?” 

“Oh absolutely.” 

And you both did just that.

[archduke-enver-gortash]

mmm essay about sally and kid gort in the tags (cw for child abuse, mentions of suicide, animal cruelty and a murder attempt. i always hope i don’t have to say this but just in case: i don’t excuse or condone any of her or gort’s behaviour at all.) this is literally not even touching upon everything i have to say because i hit the fucking tag limit lmao. NOBODY READ IT’S BAD BRAINSTORMING I JUST NEEDED TO GET IT OUT SOMEHOW

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

There always seems to be one kid who just screams like a tornado siren, all day long, at any given opportunity. Like, kid, I love you, you are precious and deserve all the happiness in the world; but please for the love of god shut up. There are people trying to learn here and you’re not helping them or yourself.