Yan!Targaryen Men (Jacaerys, Maegor, Aemond, Aegon I, Baelon, Daemon, Viserys III, Aegon II, Rhaegar) with sister!Darling 

Note-I hope this doesn’t get a rating like my other posts. Also, I don’t specify if the reader is adopted or not to be exclusive  

There’s no greater love than one found at home 

Tags: Pure filthy smut, unhealthy/toxic relationship, obsession/possessiveness, a kinda bloodplay, breeding kink/fantasy, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), pussy slapping/spanking, marks and cuts (sexual), co-dependency, skincare (don’t ask) 

Jacaerys 

Any lady would wish to have a brother like yours. So sweet and gentle. A brother who listens to every word of his sister. Always dancing with her at feasts. Giving her flowers just to make her smile. They find his protectiveness over you to be adorable. Not knowing it’s from a fear of losing you to another man. 

Naturally, like everyone else, you were an admirer of many handsome bachelors. Whether it was a lord, a knight, or some blacksmith. Yet each turned you down. They made sure to be careful with their words, as you were a princess. And each time you ran into your brother’s arms in tears. Utterly unaware, he whispered threats into their ears.  

The two of you shared a bed. Something your mother disapproved of. But no matter her attempts, the servants report finding you wrapped in each other’s arms. There was a reassurance it was merely innocent and harmless. The act under the sheets begs to differ from the way your brother is humping you from behind. 

There was a sense of shame in Jace’s actions. But who else deserves to take your maidenhood other than him. Though he waited and waited. Still, the two of you found a way. Light shared and moans shared between-his hardened cock covered by loose fabric as you grind your pussy against it. 

There’s also you two tangled in the sheets, messaging your tongue with his own. You clench tightly around his fingers that’s buried deep inside your core, pumping you relentlessly. All while his hips thrust into the grip you have on his cock. Groaning louder each time you squeeze at the head. 

When it finally happens. Jace has become addicted to the warmth of your pussy. He was already addicted to the feeling of his fingers playing with your dripping folds. Already addicted to his tongue lapping up your pussy, drinking in your juice. This was nothing like he ever experienced, and if Jace could, he’ll die with his cock buried deep inside of you. 

Learning Valryian was necessary. It is your mother’s tongue. The lesson, however, becomes difficult when Jace presses the head of his length against your entrance, slowly filling you up as you sit down on him. You and Jace try to recite what you know. Resisting the urge to roll his hips and your squirming doesn’t help, either. It all ends the same each time with Jace having enough, gripping your waist and moving your hips. 

Jace sometimes dreams of seeing your belly swollen with his child. He can't imagine being with anyone else but you. He wants the perfect life, to be an adoring husband to a devoted wife surrounded by children who resemble you more. It will all come due in time.

Maegor 

To you and everyone else, your brother let it be known of his desire. It is within his right to want you, to have you. What man would have a better claim for his sweet sister than her own brother. Even more who dares to refuse him, to refuse the dragon. 

Your brother wanted to be the first of your everything. Your first love. Your first kiss. Your first fuck. From your mind, to your body, to your heart, to your soul. They were all his. Every inch of you belongs to him. He will give a fate worse than death to a man who dared to steal his ‘right’. 

Maegor breeds you at every chance he gets. Filling your little cunt with his massive cock. Tears coat your eyes at how he pounds into you so mercilessly. Broken moans slip from your bruised lips, feeling his hot cum flood your insides. Numbness taking over your senses. 

There’s no rest even in your sleep. Waking up to Maegor buried deep inside you. It happens so often that you merely lay there and have him do all the work. His cock squelching into your heat, moaning his name as the two of you inch closer and closer to an orgasm. Maegor loves the sight of your pussy as cum oozes out of it, pushing the tip right in front of your  entrance to keep it all in-not wanting to waste a drop of his seed. 

As much as he hates wasting his seed, he also loves the view of you on his knees, eagerly taking him. A hand on your head guiding you up and down on his cock. His sheer size makes you choke and gag every time. When it’s done as a form of punishment, you’re pulled until your nose nudges against his balls. 

Obedience is expected from you. Not only is he older than you, he’s your king. Disobeying him will result in your ass feeling sore, a burning sensation from his assault. You’re to count each one, otherwise, he’ll start all over again. Your pussy is also swollen and drenched from his hand, slapping it when you move too much. 

After making such a mess of you, he has you join him in the bath. The water so warm, it almost stings your skin. Sitting in Maegor's lap, your head resting on his shoulder as his hand traces your back. It’s an intimate moment filled with silence. Peace. 

His wives mean nothing compared to you, and they were reminded of this every day. Any night he spends with one of them would be returned tenfold. A whisper in his ear is all it takes to get rid of each of them. A sweet sister is all he needs to love him, to satisfy him, to bear him heirs.

Aemond

You and Aemond standing side to side may have looked nowhere alike, but the two of you were attached to the hip as though you were twins. Even when each had different duties. Your brother being taught to wield a sword while you were taught to courtesy and dance. 

Your brother believed the two of you were meant to wed one day. It was tradition with Aegon wed to Helaena, so it’s only fair for him to wed you as well. The two of you shared a bond like no other and who else understands, loves, and cares for his sweet sister as he does. 

Aemond wants the best for you. It’s his duty as your brother. Demanding that you read, that you study philosophy and history. That you learn the language of your ancestors. Though you’re not to blame when finding those lessons to be boring, your brother is furious when you refuse to pay attention. Your stomach on his lap, ass sore from the strikes of his hand. It’s for your own good, he tells you. 

When it comes to reciting what you know, your brother makes you lay over his lap. His hand on your cunt. Fingers caressing your folds when you get the answers right. Halting his movements when you forget or get the answers wrong. But in the end, he’ll give in to your begging, helping you reach your release. 

Aemond likes to believe he’s giving. Cheeks messy with slick as his tongue laps up against your sensitive pussy from the many times you reached your release. Reaching it once more when his fingers thrust in and out of you all while his mouth sucks on your clit. But it’s never enough for Aemond, continuing to sloppily feast on your cunt until you can no longer take it. 

Your brother wasn’t only obsessed with the taste of your tongue, but the feeling of it wrapped around his cock. There should be shame; Taking your maidenhood, but it’ll be bound to happen so why not indulge himself now. Besides, you tempted him like a seductress, latching onto him, yearning for the heat of his cock, and who is he to deny you. 

There’s no greater feeling than this. The feeling of his cock sinking into you, filling you up so well, and stretching you with every thrust. Pushing his hips as deep as he can, wanting to drown himself in your cunt. Groaning when the blunt head of his cock grazes your cervix. Your nails dig into his back, and Aemond hisses when feeling lines of blood-forming. It arouses him even further. 

Aemond was a man whose actions were said better than his words. But there are times where confessions are made. Bodies drenched in sweat, calming itself from the violet highs. And in the dawn of night, you hear the whispers, so faint. And you realize just how deep the love Aemond has for you. The madness in his eye showing its blazing intensity.

Aegon I

Your brother Aegon, as he did with Visenya, married you out of duty. His true love was Rhaenys. A sad truth you must accept. As the youngest sister, you looked up to your big brother, always following him around, eager to please him, to make him happy. 

Aegon finds himself indulging in your eagerness. Allowing you to scrub his body in the bath or undress him late at night. His most preferred is when you’re helping him shave his beard. Seated on his lap with his hands on your waist, and Aegon can’t help but watch you be so focused and take great care to be careful. 

Unlike your sisters, Aegon didn’t want you to fight. Even preferred it if you didn’t claim a dragon. Insisting your purpose was to wait for him when it was time to visit your chambers. And when he did, Aegon smelled like dragon and his eyes widened in lust at the sheer nightgown wore. In mere seconds, it was ripped to shreds. 

His reason for visiting you late at night is before you was Visenya, and before Visenya was Rhaenys. The night is spent with you bent over, his hips ramming into yours. Hands gripping the sheets as his cock pumped in and out of your tight hole. And when it was all set and done, the two of you reaching your high. He always left, and you knew deep inside, it was right back to Rhaenys. 

But soon Visenya notices Aegon’s presence lessens and more shocking when Rhaenys does. The chambers of your room are filled with everything your heart desires, from the rarest of books to every instrument and painted color imagined. The dresses becoming more and more lavished, all in the house of colors. What catches most attention is the valyrian steel necklace placed around your neck. 

His jealousy was one of fire. Easily ignited and hard to put out. Pushed to the wall with Aegon lifting your dress up. A dark look on his face as he lines his cock to your entrance. Making you adjust to his size and brutal pace. He demands to not hold in your moans, to let every single person in the castle know who you belong to. The poor bastard that caused it is currently residing in Balerion's stomach. 

In the throne room, where the halls are empty. Safe for the King and his sister-wife who’s on top of him, bouncing on his cock. Your hips gripped by Aegon, moving you up and down as he drives himself deeper into your aching cunt. Moans, groans, and skin slapping echo through the great halls. Some cuts occur, a few stings, but the pleasure helps in numbing them. 

A true testament to your brother’s love was when the two of you were standing in a mirror. Both bare as you gazed at your reflection. Stunned when Aegon places the crown, the king’s crown on your head. It’s all yours, the kingdom, the throne, him; they all belong to you. His hand reaches down to your belly. It also belongs to them. What if it’s a girl, you ask him. It’s still theirs, he claims.

Baelon

Such a sweet and kind princess you were. Loved by the court and the common people alike. Your parent’s pride and joy, a sentiment your brother shared. Baelon’s fondness for his sister was well-known around the realm. If one needs to find Baelon, they must first find you, as your brother rarely left your side. 

It doesn’t arouse any suspicions when your brother shoos any of your suitors away. Nor when his hands are on your lower back as you dance. Not when he kisses your cheeks at your name day. Neither when he rubs his thumb on your lower lip to wipe the frosting or cream. They all believe it’s just Baelon looking after his innocent and sweet sister. 

Then again, there are no eyes under the table where your brother’s hand is buried between your legs. Your thighs squeeze the hand to restrict its movements, but all it does is make him dig his fingers even deeper into your core. Baelon has the nerve to have those same fingers in his mouth afterward, tasting your release all while his eyes are on yours. 

With Baelon, most of your mornings are awakened by a sensation between your legs and a knot in your stomach. Opening your eyes to see your brother sucking the clit into his mouth. Pulling away with your arousal coating his lips as he teasingly greets you with a ‘good morning’. 

Any time you are soaking yourself in warm water. It’s almost as if your brother has a sixth sense. Coincidently being there, and he doesn’t even bother asking. Sinking in the warm water and immediately pulling you onto his lap. And somehow it always ends with most of the water spilling out on the floor. You eagerly moving up and down on your brother’s length. 

The dragon’s blood courses through Baelon’s veins and you’re reminded by his fire when he’s green with envy. Making such a mess out of you as he slams his cock into your hole, hand making contact with your ass cheek. Overstimulating you as he pumps a load after another. In your broken moans and whines, your brother makes you repeat that you belong to him over and over. 

Sometimes you wonder if Baelon wants others to find you in these compromising positions. With how often he drags you out of feasts and tourneys. When the two of you return, you’re forced to lean on him as your knees are wobbly and your whole body feels sore. Not to mention the mixture of our arousal sliding down your thighs. 

Baelon worships the ground you walk on. He might even worship you. You certainly taste like nectar on his tongue, a nectar created by the gods. You’re a perfect creature in his eyes. If Baelon could, he’ll gift you the whole  world in his hands. But if you were ever to leave, Baelon will want to burn it all down and himself so he can see a glimpse of your face again. 

Daemon

Viserys and Daemon loved their little sister. They took you wherever they went, their protectiveness and love clearly seen. But Viserys knew the bond between you and Daemon was nowhere near the one he had with either of you. It was evident even to the court.

You were his. A constant reminder that loomed over you. Everything belonged to him, everything. Your eyes, only for him to gaze at. Your lips, only for him to kiss. Your body, only for him to touch. Your heart, only for him to keep. Your cunt, only for him to breed. 

No other man deserves this. Deserves you. You were made for him. Carved and sculpted by the gods as a gift. Any man or woman who takes what is rightfully his. He’ll behead them and fuck you right next to their corpses, or better yet, he’ll make them watch. Letting it be the last thing they see before meeting their timely demise. 

Daemon takes joy in bullying you. Railing you from behind as your hands grip the window rails. Taunting you on how much of a slut you’re, taking his cock like your pussy was made for it. When he notices you biting your lips to hold your moans as those under will hear, he will spank your pussy every time you do so. He wants them to hear, to watch his sister being so drunk on his cock. 

At tourneys, you’re in the front, thighs clenched together at the sight of your brother’s prowess. It doesn’t matter whether he comes victorious. Daemon makes it a ritual to fuck you after each tourney. When victorious, every time he crowns you as the queen of love and beauty, later in his chambers, having you ride him to your liking. But when he loses, your ass is left sore and bruised as Daemon ruthlessly pounds into your dripping hole, fucking you full of his cum. 

In front of others, it is almost as if your brother’s arousal heightens. Teasing you under the table, his eyes never leaving your face just to watch how it twitches and how your lips are pressed in a thin line, doing everything to not break, not to fall apart from his fingers playing with your cunt. 

No matter how many tongues are silenced or people sent away, it doesn’t stop the rumors that circulate around the castle. The servants claim to catch the two of you in intimate positions. Found in some hall with you between your brother’s legs. A messenger once walked on him thrusting hard and deep into you, still counting his pace the rogue prince simply asks who sent for it. 

You can never deny your brother. For his violence, ruthlessness, and arrogance. There was the intense love and loyalty he had for you. One you will never find in another man. Daemon didn’t need to utter the three words. When he claims that he’ll burn cities to the ground, it’s not an empty promise. It was also his gentleness that was granted only to you. 

Viserys III

There were only three-you, Viserys, and Daenerys. They were all you had-your father, mother, and big brother all gone. Your memories were still there, the good and the bad. And most of all you remembered your brother before he became the man he was. The sweet and devoted Viserys, now cruel and mad. 

To Viserys you are his greatest strength as much as you are his greatest weakness. You are his to have, his to claim, his to fuck, his to hurt, his to love. A wine for him to drink and drink until he’s drunk under your sweet words and touches. Away from him in a day is a day to you, but to Viserys, it’s as if months have passed without your presence.

Your body belonged solely to him. The mere idea of anyone touching or gazing at it will send him into a frenzy of rage. It wasn’t the servants dressing you instead; it was your brother Viserys, styling you in the way he sees fit. Even bathing you, scrubbing your body as he joins you, expecting you to return the favor. 

You weren’t ignorant of your brother’s lust. Noticing where his hands trailed when he’d undress you. How he pulls you to sit on his lap. And your brother’s meanness was seen in how he shoves his fingers in your mouth, watching with great entertainment as you gag and drool all over his fingers. Scolding you for the noises you make and how you’re moving your hips against him. 

Viserys will marry you against Illyrio's advice. It was his destiny and duty. There’s no better suitor than his own sister and no better suitor for you than your own brother. Almost every day Viserys breeded you. It’s up to you and him to continue your bloodline, to bear him heirs when he claims the iron throne. 

Viserys’ jealousy was a dangerous one. Receiving his known saying, do not wake the dragon. Even your sister Daenerys wasn’t safe from his jealousy. Viserys already resented her for killing your mother. He tells her it’s only he who deserves to touch you, to hold you. It’s one of the reasons he was so eager to marry her off to Khal Drogo. As it means having you all to himself. 

Viserys is hardly slow and gentle in his thrusts, and how can he when feeling your insides wrap around his cock, clenching him so tightly. Feeling as if he’s losing his sanity at how drunk he’s on your pussy. With any other, he’d be embarrassed at how loud he is. But with you, his dear sweet sister, Viserys isn’t ashamed to cry out your name. Moaning how good you feel around him, demanding you call him your king. 

Tell me you love me. Was something you often heard from your brother. When he heard them call him ‘the beggar king’. After he caused a tantrum because you were too ‘nice’ to another person. When he lays his head on your chest every night. It almost is a recital, where you tell him you do love him, cradling his face and kissing him to ease any of his doubt.

Aegon II

As children, Aegon teased you as any brother would. But he was far more attached to you than Aemond, and certainly Helaena. Your mother thought the relationship was a harmless one. It’s until your brother became a man and you a lady, did your mother start to separate the both of you. 

It never worked. Aegon made you come to him at any time of need. Your finger is cut, no worries, he'll help you. Placing the said finger in his mouth, sucking on the blood as you watch him. At the time of your month, he’ll press kisses on your tummy to make you feel better, only for his lips to go lower and lower. 

Aegon’s intentions are never good. Such as when your brother sweetly offers you to taste your favorite pastry, only for him to dip his fingers in the said pastry. Having you lick and suck his fingers clean to which you start gagging when he shoves it further inside your mouth. 

His greatest weakness was the sight of your breasts. No matter how big or small they were, it’s a sight to behold. Only for his eyes to see. Capturing your nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly leaving you with the feeling of soreness afterward. 

He’ll also fuck your tits. Fisting his cock as his tip nudges the stiff buds, smearing them with pre-cum. Or better yet rubbing them against the skin between your breasts. Spurting his release all over your chest and some splattering into your face, making him hard all over again as soon as your tongue makes contact with his cum.

With Aegon, there’s never a dull day. Always wanting to try something new. Forced to eat fruits such as strawberries and pineapples all day by your brother until your stomach aches. All because Aegon overheard they will make your pussy taste sweeter. 

During tourneys, you and Aegon are nowhere to be found. Using this opportunity to fuck you in the chambers of those who angered him. Some lord judgmentally looked at him. He will have your back laid on their table with him pounding into you, having all their works scattered on the floor. His brother made a comment on his drinking. He’ll plunge his cock into your dripping pussy on his bed. Leaving behind such a mess for Aemond to find. He’ll even sneak you into some of the lord’s carriages, so when they are to leave, they’ll feel something sticky and wet on their seats. 

When he became king, Aegon would have you ride him on the iron throne. Your stomach is still in knots and your legs are on fire when he and you reach your high. Your brother then makes you sit on the throne all while he’s on his knees, face surrounded by your thighs. Aegon may wear the crown of the conqueror, but it’s you who pulls the strings.

Rhaegar 

In the stories where you hear of tall handsome princes, Rhaegar was one to come to mind. All ladies seem to think so. Eagerly surrounding and pursuing him. With the customs of your house, the ladies saw you as a competition for their prince. They were not far off, as the handsome Rhaegar’s heart was yours to have. 

The gods have blessed your brother with such beauty. That is a work of art. Compared to his, yours seemed inadequate. A thought that you believed almost broke his heart. Morning to night, your brother’s delicate hands trailed your body, soft lips brushing against the skin. All done to prove you were worthy of such a title, a title of beauty, and one deserving of his affection. 

Though the violet eyes that watched you always held a fondness. A fondness reserved only for you. Watching you do the most mundane things, even eating. Chuckling when the food’s remains would adhere to your lips or trail down, to which your brother wipes it for you. A certain gleam in his eye. 

Every morning, it was your brother who took care of your hair. Whether it’s brushing, braiding, or dipping his fingers in the coconut oil to apply it to your hair. Rhaegar loved taking care of your skin as well. Having you completely bare while he spreads the lotion at every inch of the skin, trailing dangerously close to your lower region. 

There was some resistance against his temptations. Rhaegar will be a patient man for a time, yet his father refused to announce the union. It was seen in how he’d check for you at night, tucking you in and giving you a gentle kiss on the head. Each time, it took all his strength to deny your request for him to join you. But when his patience ran thin and his strength weakened, he slipped behind the covers. A habit came to be with the prince leaving your chambers every early morning. 

With the night sky being your only witness, Rhaegar lays between your legs. Drinking you in like a starved man. The chambers’ walls echo the sound of your moans, hand down pushing his face even further. Your brother groans when you gush against his tongue, arousal coating his cheek and chin. 

Clutching him to your body, your eyes find his. Rhaegar presses his forehead to yours as his cock sank into your pussy. He could worship the sight of your face contorting to pleasure, worship the sounds of your moans in his ear. Your back arches and legs weakly wrap around his waist as he pounds your cunt. Your brother whispers nothing but sweet praises.

Outside the covers of your sheets, your brother also worshiped you. His heart was in your hands. You can break it over and over, and it still beats for you. You are his and he’s yours till the end of days, how he dreams of reciting your wedding vows to one another. How he dreams of you giving him a prince. The three-headed-dragon, words your brother muttered more than once.

3 Questions

1: How long does it take for all the glamrock to realize they're all protecting a child?

2: How many security bonds will it take to find four children

3: How much searching will it take for Vanny/ Vanessa To find at least one if she's in already aware a four kids

1: Longer than it should to be honest. But neither Freddy nor Chica are particularly bright and Roxy and Monty are to worried about their girls to pay attention to how evasive their friends are being.

I’m still figuring out the details on it all, but I think it would be halfway through the night, like around 3 am-ish?

I know Roxy is the first animatronic to figure it out, but it’s not like she wouldn’t  take matters on her own hands. 

More specifically (spoilers) when she’s looking for Cassie and finds her in her Vanny mask between Monty and Freddy on the elevator.

Monty and Freddy can’t see her, but even if they could are really distracted with trying not to look inconspicuous and like their chest compartments are completely empty. 

Gregory and Naomi are trying to figure how the FUCK to warn Cassie about the other guy when Roxy shows up, takes one look at the situation, and begins yelling at Freddy and Monty for being idiots.

“I kind of expected this kind of stunt from Monty-“ *offended alligator noises* “But Freddy what the actual fuck? You chest compartments aren’t the Daycare!!!”

More chaos ensues.

2: I’m not sure? 

I don’t know what you mean “security bonds”, but I’m going to assume it was either security guards or the security Bots.

For guards 1, technically 2 if you count glitchtrap.

With the Glamrock Kids I want Vanny to be more of a threat and have Vanessa still trying to help the kids (like in the original trailers). 

Bring up more Vanny’s presence can cause the Animatronics to glitch/black out for a few minutes. Make it where they have to stay a certain distance away or risk shutting down for a the rest of the hour. If they can’t do anything leaving the kids on their own. There is also the potential of Vanny restoring the glitch if left too long near her too. 

As for Officer Vanessa, she wants to get them out safely but none of the kids are sure whether they can trust Vanessa or not. Have her show up at opportune moments to help when the animatronics are preoccupied.

As to the security bots themselves, I want them to pose as more of a threat as the game goes on (especially given the ending where the STAFF bots literally tear Freddy to shreds. 

With each hour that passes, have the security bots become more aggressive in finding the kids. Hunt them down for increasing amounts of time. Destroy or dismantle known hiding places (like in Hello Neighbor) if you get caught. Eventually some the security bots could even drag the kid towards Vanny (or the nearest animatronic if this is single player mode).

Though if the kid summons their animatronic quick enough, this could be potentially circumvented, so I dunno.

3: Searching is easy, it’s retrieving that’s the hard part.

Vanessa thinks there is only 1 boy loose in the pizzaplex at the start, but given her (presumable) access to the security cameras, I think she’d figure out there was more than one kid causing trouble pretty fast.

She probably is aware of there being at least 3 kids (what with Cassie glitching in and out of view) almost from the start.

As for the kids, I know Gregory and Naomi meet first at the daycare- Monty having sent her there for a security badge and maybe a taser (plus it supposed to be the safest spot in the whole pizzaplex). They make quick work of getting the badge and make quicker work of turning the generators back on.

Meanwhile, Cassie and Brandon meet in Gator’s golf, trying to find these cameras that supposedly stun the animatronics, but find Jack squat. Here is where Brandon gets his Taser, unlike his single-player play through, where he would get it at the day care.

Story wise, she’d probably catch Gregory first- due to Map-Bot like in the game. (Also- I haven’t seen anyone talk about this, Vanessa totally knocks Gregory unconscious the first time she catches him???)

She stuffs him in lost in found but this time he’s got back up, and makes quick work of escaping the psychopathic bunny.

Though things definitely take a turn for the worse when Vanny figures out the animatronics have been HIDING the children from her. Particularly behind one of her own masks.

I’m so happy to hear that you’ve got a few plot bunnies hopping around your head! While they may certainly be enemies in the show, they’ve demonstrated the ability to work together if needed. Cang Xuan promised Xiang Liu and his men a mountain. Xiang Liu promised to save the life of the woman Cang Xuan cared about the most. They would be the greatest enemies to reluctant friends to lovers and you know they’d fall love kicking and screaming, all while saying that they’re in a relationship only for Xiao Yao. The denial…the angst…. They’re both traumatized from their past so you know they’re coming in with so much baggage that putting them together would be soooo good.

Also on a more shallow note, imagine Xiang Liu as part of Cang Xuan’s harem. All the palace harem drama!!! 😂

anon, I am very shallow. This may not be what you were thinking of in relation to palace harem drama, but it's what I'm thinking of.

pre-slash snippet, Lost You Forever, Cang Xuan/Xiang Liu, canonical gender switching (yes there is canonical gender switching in this show, and that is one of many reasons why all the rest of you should watch it XD)

“Fetch the newest concubine, the one who just arrived,” Cang Xuan ordered. He wanted to pace the room, waiting; instead he deliberately made himself stand by the window and look out at the night, thinking through tomorrow’s strategy meetings. 

When he heard the door open, he turned around. The woman who had entered, escorted by a servant, had her eyes cast down demurely. Her figure was slim yet voluptuous, just as Cang Xuan—he wrenched his gaze away, to the ceiling. 

“My lord,” she said, with a bow so perfectly executed that it seemed deliberate. “How may this humble one serve you?”

“You can stop that,” Cang Xuan said, irritated. 

The woman fell to her knees. “If I have offended…” She blinked at him, appealingly, her red lips parted. Her eyelashes were very long.

“Get up,” Cang Xuan said, very conscious of the wide eyes of the servant. “Leave us,” he ordered him. 

“I seek only to please you,” the woman murmured, a tremble in her voice. 

The doors closed behind the guard. 

Cang Xuan blew out an irritated breath. “Is this really necessary?” 

Xiang Liu stood up, gracefully. She—he—was a very attractive woman. All her—his—movements were convincing: it was very disconcerting. 

“You are the one who refuses to let me take Xiaoyao under the sea, where no assassin could ever find her,” Xiang Liu said. 

“And if we don’t find the assassin, when would she come back?”

Xiang Liu’s eyes glittered at him. “You know my thoughts about using Xiaoyao as bait. You might at least let me sleep in her room.”

Cang Xuan snorted. “The answer is still no. And can you—I can’t talk to you like this.” He made a loose gesture towards Xiang Liu. “Turn back.”

Xiang Liu’s lips curved. Cang Xuan turned away, somehow feeling it was indecent to witness this transformation. There was no discernable noise or motion, but when he turned back, Xiang Liu was in his male form, mask in place, and still smirking at him. 

“I asked you here to see if there was anything to report,” Cang Xuan said, stiff. 

Xiang Liu shrugged. “No. I have only been here a day. Things among your women seem…as usual." 

How would he know, Cang Xuan thought, and then instantly dismissed the thought. He wanted to ask Xiang Liu to behave with…propriety, but it seemed futile. He’d known he and Jing would regret this idea. Though watching Xiang Liu’s sharp gaze round the room, and remembering what it was like to fight him, at least he was man enough to acknowledge that he could hardly have found anyone stronger to protect Xiaoyao from credible threat.

“Then if there is nothing to report…” he said. He could get back to his plans, it wasn’t that late. 

Xiang Liu arched his eyebrows at him. “Didn’t you want your people to think we were fucking? If I leave now, won’t that seem unusually quick, even for you?”

“You—” Cang Xuan started, clenching his fist. He found, to his horror, that he was blushing. 

Xiang Liu cocked his head. “Perhaps we should make some convincing sounds, too. For the effect.”

“Don’t make me kill you,” Cang Xuan said, through his teeth.

“As if you could.” Xiang Liu’s eyes gleamed red, for a moment, and then it was gone. 

Cang Xuan made himself take a deep breath. “Fine. I have work to do. You may amuse yourself for…an appropriate amount of time.”

As he busied himself with his papers, he found himself glancing across the room. Xiang Liu was half-sprawled over his window seat, seemingly meditating. His head was tipped back, his eyes closed. Cang Xuan traced the line of his jaw with his gaze: was it the same, when he was a woman? Then he noticed what he was doing, and looked back down at the papers, unseeing. 

This had been a terrible mistake, and now he was stuck with it, for as long as it took an unknown assassin or assassins to make their move. He almost wished it would be soon. 

May I request Alpha Bakugo, Midoriya, and Todoroki (seperate) always protecting their Omega reader? How would they react if another alpha tried to claim the omega? Likee hmm say for example the two are walking on the street then another alpha just jumps in and talks about like how attractive reader's scent is and stuff! It is alright if youre not comfortable with writing with this many characters, this ABO au, or this idea in general!

Notes: Hi Anon! I’m so sorry this took longer than expected to do! I promise I didn’t forget you! I don’t really know much about the ABO au so I had to do a bit of research first. I’m not really sure if I landed it though, but I did have fun writing it! It’s always fun to try out something new, so I do hope you enjoy it! I also tried to keep it gender-neutral.

Warnings: Language, mild violence, slight blood, possessive behavior, Alpha-Omega au, drinking-drunken behavior

Word Count: ~2.7K

Wanna request something?

...

BAKUGO

Katsuki is the definition of aggressive. It's no surprise he'd be just as aggressive as an Alpha, especially when it came to you. Your mere presence was enough to send him into ultra possessive protective mode.

The two of you were heading back to your shared apartment after one of your weekly date nights. Since he was a pro hero, he didn't often have much free time, so he set aside a specific night each week, just for you. He wasn't the best at showing his love through words, so his actions more than made up for the fact.

A muscled arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you walked through the deserted street. The ground seemed to be swaying a bit, or that might've just been you. One drink too many could do that. Katsuki warned you not to drink so much, but you didn't listen and as much as he complained that he wouldn't carry you home, he still held most of your body weight up by a single firm hand.

"I love you," you cooed, dropping your head into his shoulder with a smile.

His hand tightened around you and a cocky grin spread across his face. "I know."

With a slight pout, you huffed, "say it back."

The tiniest roll of his eyes before he grabbed your chin with his free hand and tilted it up so he could look into your eyes. You were about to question him but his lips silenced you with a deep kiss. "You know I do." He tried to sound annoyed, but you could see straight through it.

He wouldn't be caught dead being this sentimental with you if anyone else was nearby, especially if another Alpha was near. To him, acting like that opened someone up for weakness, and with you on the line, he would never allow that. But since it was just the two of you alone, he allowed himself to show just a slight bit of passion. These little moments were reserved solely for you.

Wrapping your arms around him as much as you could, you let out a heavy sigh with sleepy eyes. The peaceful night air had a bit of a chill to it, but that was nothing compared to the heavenly warmth radiating from his body. That was until you felt his whole person stiffen.

Confused, you looked up. Then the smell hit you. Another Alpha's scent. Even in your hazy state, it smelled overwhelming, intentional…and all-too aggressive. It literally smelled like trouble. You'd had trouble in the past with other Alpha's coming on way too strong, which was one of the reasons why you were so grateful to have found Katsuki. He doesn't put up with any bullshit and isn't afraid to fight others off.

Katsuki's nails dug into your waist, his feet abruptly coming to a stop. Jaw clenched so hard, teeth nearly cracking from the pressure. Ruby-red eyes narrowed into deadly slits. A vicious snarl itching to see some action. It was a sight you were used to seeing from him. Criminals and heroes alike tried to avoid that exact look he was wearing right now.

Plenty of Alpha's had tried to come onto you in the past, but none have been so bold as to outright try to challenge Katsuki, especially in the dead of night on some deserted street. The moment they got a whiff of that dangerous heady scent, dripping with aggression and possessiveness, they immediately backed off. He didn't know the meaning of mercy.

When you turned your head to pinpoint the source of the scent, he twisted around first, swinging you to his back in one easy motion. The street looked empty from where you poked your head around his arm.

"Get lost fuckwad," he growled, "or die."

The shadows shifted and a man clad in loose black clothes that blended into the darkness so well you were having a hard time keeping your eyes on him. It was only when he stepped into the glow of a streetlamp from a block away did you finally see him clearly. He casually crossed his arms behind his head. A way of showing Katsuki that he wasn't threatened in the slightest. Even a full block away the poignant smell of him invaded your nose.

"What a temper on this one," he purred with a sultry charm guised to disarm, a complete contradiction of his hostile scent. "You know babe, you'd be much better off with me."

"Don't fucking talk to them," Katsuki snapped, fingers digging into the fabric covering your arm. "Or I'll kill you."

"It's not worth it," you tugged on his jacket a bit. "Let's just go."

Even as you said it, you knew it was pointless. Katsuki never backs down from a fight. Violence is ingrained in his DNA.

"Gonna take orders from an Omega? At least I know how to keep them in place, like a real Alpha," he smirked, crossing the street. A deep growl rumbled in Katsuki's chest, but the other Alpha ignored it. "Can't you smell it? I could smell their scent three blocks away."

You were on suppressants but alcohol is notorious for diluting their effect and of course, you had to show him up and drink more than him tonight. Was your scent out of control? You didn't think so and Katsuki hadn't said anything about it all night. You couldn't smell it, but if that Alpha had followed you all this way, it must've been strong.

As the Alpha drew closer, you realized just how bulky the man was. He stood taller than Katsuki by almost a foot and that grin stitched into his face was making you nervous. The whole situation was stressing you out so much Katsuki could most likely smell it comes off you in waves. His bright vermillion eyes found yours and he huffed. That instinct to protect was warring with his compulsion for reckless abandon. Before he could say anything, the Alpha made the first move.

With a snap of his teeth, the burly man took off towards Katsuki and Katsuki didn't waste a second. He pushed you back and charged. The two met in a head-on collision. A bright explosion lit up the darkened street with an echoing boom. When the light faded and the smoke cleared, Katsuki stood over his opponent, an angry snarl spilling from his grinning face as he smashed his foot into the Alpha's singed back. What was the phrase? All bark and no bite.

Once he was sure the Alpha was down for the count, he trudged over to you. Without a word, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away. After a few minutes, he deemed it far enough and stopped to pull you into his chest, resting his chin on your head.

"The nerve of these assholes," he muttered, eyes still glaring at the soft shadows surrounding them. He wouldn't feel better until you were back home, under his watchful eye. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," you mumbled into his shirt, closing your eyes with a relieved sigh. "I'm always fine when I'm with you."

MIDORIYA

Izuku isn't a typical Alpha. His demeanor is usually quiet and kind so it always surprised most people to find out he was one. Only making sense when he went into battle mode. The sheer ferocity this guy displays while fighting is one of the most intense things anyone will experience. R.I.P any brave soul that decides to challenge him. He gives it his all, especially if it means protecting someone under his care; namely you.

After leaving the theater (yes, Izuku drags you to each new All Might Movie premier, and no, you don't have a choice in the matter) you lean into him, listening to him gush about every detail the movie had gotten right or horribly wrong. This man was a serious fanboy. His voice was soothing to hear to so you could listen to him prattle on forever if you had your way.

The two of you had almost made it to the car when someone stumbled into you. If Izuku hadn't had his arm around your waist, you would've fallen down with the obviously drunk man. He pulled you away from the drunkard and did a quick check to make sure you weren't hurt before turning his attention to the man. "Hey, are you alright buddy?"

"Dammit!" the man groaned as he crawled back to his feet, swaying from side to side once he made it up. "Watch where you're goin'," he slurred out, lips having a hard time forming the words. Then he sniffed and blinked a few times, focusing on you. "Mmm, you smell good."

Izuku stiffened, subtly stepping in front of you, eyes narrowed. "Your drunk, it's time you went home."

"What's a lovely thing like you doing out so late?" he ignored Izuku entirely, puffing out his chest with a sleazy grin. That's when the scent hit you. Strong, mixed with the smell of alcohol. It made your nose wrinkle in disgust. "Come here doll, I can take good care of ya."

A low rumble vibrated deep within Izuku's chest. A warning. A threat. Most sensible Alpha's would've taken the cue, but this guy was far from anything resembling sense. Izuku is, for the most part, a rational Alpha, but when the drunkard stepped closer to touch you, he lost it.

It was so quick, you almost missed it. Izuku snatched the grimy hand, twisted it which in turn forced the man to twist as well, and sent him flying with a powerful kick to the rear. He kicked him so hard the Alpha flew halfway across the parking lot, landing in a small puddle with a loud splash. It took a moment for him to roll over, body still trying to process what just happened before finally falling back into the puddle with a long-winded groan.

Izuku stood rigid, eyes locked on the Alpha who had curled in on himself. He gnashed his teeth a few times trying to even out his huffy breaths. Small sparks of green electricity quietly crackled off his skin.

"Izuku?" you grabbed one of his fisted hands and pulled it close.

He looked down at you, still trying to calm his racing heart. Izuku didn't like to get like this in front of you and that in itself was making him more upset. But a part of him loved the fact that he could protect you so easily and that you took comfort in that fact.

The Alpha, apparently too drunk to remember what just happened, rolled out of the puddle and back to his feet. His back was dripping wet, but he didn't even seem to notice as he staggered off into the night.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, finally turning to you.

You wrapped your arms around his muscly frame, fingertips just barely meeting on his back. "What're you sorry for? You protected me, didn't you?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Pride swelled in his chest. A slight tinge rushed to his cheeks so he tucked his face into your neck, nuzzling his nose deep into the crook. Your scent was always so calming and he stayed like that for a minute until he remembered you were both still standing outside the car. "Let's go home."

TODOROKI

Shoto is a strong silent Alpha. He's probably the calmest of the three, but that doesn't mean he won't hesitate to kick anyone's ass if they dare mess with you. He's mastered the evil eye glare and combined with his natural Alpha aura, most steer clear.

You had decided to take a day trip to the next prefecture over to see your friends and had asked Shoto to pick you up from the train station. So, there he was, standing on the platform, umbrella in hand as the rain came down in a steady, freezing pour.

When the train finally pulled in, he scanned the cars until he saw you step out. Even in the heavy rain, he could pick up your scent and it was screaming distress. It confused him until he saw why…or rather smelled why. Stepping out behind you was a lanky man, mere inches from your back. His grinning face was bent next to yours as he talked with you, well more like at you. Large hands ghosted over your hair, taking in heavy whiffs of you. A grimace stuck on your face as you did everything in your power to ignore him, but trying to ignore an Alpha was like trying to ignore a blowhorn to the face. Loud, obnoxious, and completely overwhelming. The longer you ignored him, the more irritated he grew.

Shoto snapped the umbrella closed so hard he almost broke it. He no longer cared about getting wet and used the tip to wedge himself between the crowd of people. The hair on his neck stood on end. The rain on his right side froze the minute it touched his skin while on his left, it turned to steam. He tried to suppress that ball of rage building in the back of his throat, only for an aggravated growl to escape. Anyone who managed to catch his wrathful gaze quickly jumped out of his warpath.

The Alpha placed his hand on your shoulder and that was the final straw. You turned to swat him off, which was apparently the wrong thing to do. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you right up against him, dark eyes narrowed, teeth bared. Panic took over as you struggled to free yourself from his too-tight grip.

An umbrella came out of nowhere, whacking the Alpha right in the nose. He let go of your wrist with a startled yelp, stumbling back a few feet.

Shoto suddenly materialized between the two of you. You'd been so distracted that you didn't even realize you could smell Shoto's scent. But now that he was up close, it was all you could smell. Strong, powerful, and…furious.

"What the fu-AAAH!" With a scream, he toppled over. Both legs were frozen together in a thick column of ice. He hit the ground hard, head smacking on the wet concrete.

Shoto towered over him, shooting that perfected evil eye, face masked in shadows. "Next time," he growled, voice low and terrifyingly calm, "I'd advise not to touch people without their permission." Crouching next to his head, he glanced down at his left hand where a small flame erupted, and despite the pouring rain, only seemed to grow brighter. "Or you might get burned."

The man wisely stilled, eyes wide. "I didn't know they already had a mate dude, I swear."

"Regardless, don't ever let me catch you treating someone like that again," he snapped his hand closed, extinguishing the flame. "Is that understood?"

The threat was heard loud and clear but the Alpha glanced at you and Shoto grabbed his chin and pulled his gaze back to him. "Don't ever look at them again."

A nod and Shoto threw his face to the side, standing up. Taking a moment to compose himself again, he turned to you, hunched in on yourself, looking slightly embarrassed. Too many people were staring because Shoto had made a scene. He could care less about what other people thought. Someone had messed with you and he had to make it right.

Holding a hand out, you accepted it and he ushered you away. The both of you were soaking wet but he still opened the umbrella again, shielding you from the rain. Once you were far enough away from the station and other people, he stopped to inspect you.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, looking for any obvious signs or lingering scent marks.

"No, I'm fine." You hugged yourself, not sure if you were shivering from the cold wet or from that creep, possibly both.

With a frown, he pulled you in close. His left side immediately warmed you up and you buried your head as far as you could into his chest, that familiar, safe scent surrounding you. "Thanks, Sho."

That intense anger was slowly ebbing away the longer you held onto him. That need to protect, to comfort taking its place.  You alone were the only thing that seemed to be able to calm him down when he was so worked up. Wrapping his free arm around you, tucking you in as tightly as possible, he kissed the top of your head. "You know I'd do anything for you."

Mcyts helping a trans masc after top surgery. (Part 1)

Tw:swearing, pain pills, some hints to vomiting, fluff as well.

Wilbur

This simp...

Makes sure you regularly drain your drains, take your medication.

You dont even have to get the fuck up, I mean he's your personal butler until the doctor gave you the okay.

Three times a day you get a smoothie. He can tell that you dont want to eat because of the pain.

The least you can do is drink something to nurioush you while you were in pain.

If you're embarrassed about having to sleep on some dog pee pads for the drain. Dont be.

Wilbur may not understand but he will constantly comfort you. He'll even make a video to tell his viewers he won't be posting for a moment. A personal issues came up and that is all they know for now.

Also when cold he'll try to keep you warm by very, very gentle cuddles. But any sign of pain and he's off of you and getting you warm blankets and heating packs.

His sweaters? Now all yours. You have no say. He will give you one every day knowing you find alot of comfort in wearing his clothes.

The last thing he wants is you in pain. Especially if it was caused by him.

Your testosterone shot? Dont worry he's got it for you.

He doesn't want you to get up unless you needed to go to the restroom or you were itching to get up.

If you dont take it slow he will threaten you.

This is a threat. He will make you sit back down if you tried to get up and clean.

All in all he is a simp and your butler.

Technoblade

Technoblade may not know what to do but he will try.

He's quite nervous but when he realized you havent eaten and needed something in your system for your pain meds hell make you something soft and light on the stomach.

Are you cold? He'll cover you in a blanket and just sit next to you. Floof senses you in pain and cuddles you more then technoblade.

Techno was a bit butt hurt but knew that you needed alot of support right now.

With his height his clothes are either tight or loose. But his hoodies are always huge. And very fucking comfortable.

His scent relaxed you and helped you sleep at night.

He is a hidden simp.

He will make sure you're comfortable. If you want him to he'll sleep with you in the living room.

When you start walking him and Floof are constantly following you. Just to make sure you are safe and comfortable.

You cant help but love your two boys.

His streams and videos are already inconsistent but he did say his next video or stream might take a longer time.

But if you dont mind then you'll sit near him while he streams. If you needed anything he'll get it.

You saying hi to chat. They know you're in pain by your tone.

And anyone he's in a call with will ask what's up. And when you tell them they'll understand and they'll hype you up.

It warms techno's heart when his friends hype you up.

God this closeted simp is melting internally.

Schlatt

He will tease you.

Pictures are taken and spread around the internet like a wild fire.

Caption to those pictures?

This dumbass just got out of surgery and didnt expect to feel like trash lol.

But off camera he's quite the nice guy. Reminding you to drink your water, getting you soft foods or soups, heck he give you some of his pushies from his youtooz.

And this behemoth of a man will give you his shirt or hoodies.

You are with him when he streams or records.

There is no say.

He wants to keep his eyes on you and make sure you are comfortable and safe.

Lowkey dragged you bed into his recording room, you were just vibing in the corner.

You meds are on a set schedule. If the time lands when he's on stream he doesn't think. Just gets up grabs your meds and a premade smoothie.

With that he gave them to you.

Watching you swallow that pill because you can be stubborn with pain meds.

Returns to the stream.

Yells at chat for calling him a simp. He told them you were in pain and it's the least he can do for you.

Will low key rub your back off stream. As sleeping while sitting up us hell on your shoulders.

Jambo is all over you, soaking up the attention he can get while you were immobile.

Schlatt would glare st him for taking away his S/O.

When it came to you wanting to walk he will let you.

If you hurt then this man would laugh and tell you to sit your ass down. You are going anywhere just yet.

He's gonna carry you when you are in as much pain.

He's tall and there is no stopping him.

It makes him feel a bit happier due to the fact you aren't hurting as much, and still getting to the place you needed.

Also he will hug you if he sees you are uncomfortable. The hug is very soft and unlike him.

But at least he is trying.

He also keeps his yelling down, doesn't want you to make too many stiff movements. It would hurt the hell out of you.

Tommy

Ok. Hear me out, butler.

He see the pain you are in and as one of his best friends he wont let you do anything.

Your parents were out of town after your surgery and it wasn't their fault their work called in suddenly.

So you were sent over to Tommy's for the three weeks they were out.

Tommy would let you relax on his bed, heck even sleep on it as well.

Doesn't care if your drains stain the bed. That's an easy clean up and he wants you to be comfortable.

He does still stream. Because it's something he does for a living.

But he'll try to keep it a bit quieter.

You once walked out of the room when he was streaming. You looked like a gremlin, hunched over while you had to take a piss.

When you entered you were greeted by wilbur, techno, and phil telling you they hope you heal fast.

"It only gets better from now on (y/n). Take it easy alright?"-wilbur

"Congrats mate, just relax and dont forget to focus on healing."-Phil

"Yo you got the surgery. Pog. Stay healthy (y/n)."-techno

You melted lightly. A small smile graced your face.

It brought you joy and there was nothing that could compare to it. Honestly.

It seemed almost every day someone tommy knew was hopi g a speedy recovery.

He once yelled at chat for saying you should suck it up.

"CHAT THEY JUST WENT THROUGH SURGRY. LEAVE THEM ALONE!"

You forgot that your parents were even out for those weeks.

Tommy would definitely understand slightly that it would hurt to constrict your chest.

"You cold?"

When you nod tommy is up and handing you one of his hoodies. They are big and comfy. Easy to put on too. So they are perfect.

His two dogs, Walter and Betty?

Expect them in his room curled around you. Dogs know when humans feel pain and when they need something to comfort them.

The stream kind of enjoyed that.

They got wholesome content from you and dog content.

Win win.

Tommy will make sure you have your meds.

If it lands during a stream he blacks out the camera and carefully gets you the things needed for it.

Get you a best friend like tommy.

They wont let you do much when in pain.

Tubbo

He doesn't fully know what to do. He went and spent a few nights over at your house.

Your parents asked his parents for help so they sent over tubbo.

They made a list but the poor boy couldnt read it.

"A sm-oosthie with their pain pill... what the hell is a sm-oosthie?!"

It took him calling tommy to ask him to tell him.

"Tubbo. It says smoothie and who is this fo-."

He hung up before tommy could finish and made the smoothie.

Your cat was quite cuddly.

When he walked in your cat was on your lap.

"Tubbo? When did you get here?" Oh yeah it was a surprise.

"Not too long ago. Your parents left and asked me to help."

He was doing it in all good.

But he scared you so badly.

He bought you a stuffed animal...

It was a huge minecraft bee. And by huge I mean huge.

Like here's the stuffed animal.

Ignore the child. I wished there was a better picture.

But yeah you get the point.

Tubbo may not know how to help you fully but he's trying.

Tommy came to visit with wilbur and phil.

Tommy was meeting up with them and you lived close to wilbur.

When they saw you laid up in bed, tubbo trying to find out how to help with your medication phil kinda went father mode.

You got homemade soup to take your meds.

Tubbo was quite happy to see you smiling and lightly laughing.

When they left you felt better.

Tubbo may not know how to do alot but he tried his best. And you loved every moment.

You got you best friend to help you. And nothing was better then that.

Ranboo

Ranboo spent the night and all you guys could do was joke about the pain.

The jokes were quite self deprecating too.

All night you guys were up.

You couldn't sleep because of the pain and he didnt want to sleep due to the fact he didnt want you to be alone.

So you two were sleep deprived and your parents were concerned. But understood you two didnt want the other to feel bad.

After you healed a bit your parents got called into work. Leading to you spending a few days over there.

Ranboo streamed a recorded with you in the back ground.

He forgot you were there once and he turned on face cam. There you were in the background nose deep into a book while wearing one of his hoodies.

You were freezing and your shirts were a bit too tight.

He just gave you one of his and that was that.

"Whis in the background?"-dono

"In the background?" He turned around to see you just reading your book.

"Oh. That's one of my friends. They had a surgery a week ago."-ranboo

He turned to you, "(y/n) say hi to stream."

Looking up you waved.

"My gay mind went brrr at the idea of no sacks of fat. Now body do the big pain."-(y/n) 2021

It brought a laugh to ranboo and his chat.

You joked through the pain. It was funny.

Dream

What is this I see? He's a simp indeed.

Low key he's answering your beck and call.

He's smothering you in love.

It may not be physical affection but it is still affection.

Your hoodies are replaced with his.

They are huge and comfy.

He saw something online that reminded him of you.

He said it was cute and decided you needed it.

You loved it. It helped you sleep.

Since sapnap lives with him he sends in sapnap sometimes because he's recording or has to get something that wasn't in the house.

Also when you found the zipper you unzipped it and found dream stashed some gift cards and little trinkets in it. Along with a note.

'Knew you would of found this.'-Clay

It shocked you kind of.

But you loved it. It was quite comforting that he gave his affection in these ways still.

Even if it wasn't physically.

Patches is on you 24/7.

She's cuddling you and being very gentle on you.

Low key she won't leave you though, she's following you everywhere, on your lap, sitting there when your on the toilet.

She's clingy. More clingy then before.

But it warmed your heart.

If george visits then he'll see a little gremlin making a b line to the bathroom.

All because the pain made your stomach feel upset.

And you hadn't eaten anything because of pain.

Dream is quick to rush in and see what's wrong.

You were sitting on the ground in the bathroom. Needless to say it didnt end well and you hated it.

"Baby. Do you want me to get you a smoothie and your pain meds?" You were grateful.

After leaving the bathroom you lightly hunched over you noticed the British man in your living room.

You watched his videos.

You waved lightly with a smile.

"Oh sorry (y/n) I didnt tell you george was coming did i?"

Your look told it all.

"Sorry you have to see me like this." You had the urge to apologize.

"No dont be sorry. Surgery is painful."-george

With a small nod you went back to your room and relaxed.

George

He didnt know what to do at all.

He answered your requests.

But he didnt know why you needed that thick ass blanket in the middle of the summer.

But now you have it.

Your stuffed animal that was left in the living room?

It's in your arms by your side.

He's sad it wasn't him in your arms but understood it would cause you pain.

He just lightly lays in your lap.

It brought you comfort and him comfort.

Your germilin ass tended you get up and walk at the weirdest time too.

3am?

Your are going to get a snack.

5am?

You are on your way to the toilet.

7am?

Your once more in the kitchen getting something to eat with your pain pill.

George slept through it and was confused when you weren't in bed like the doctors told you to.

He's quite meticulous with your meds and eating habits.

He doesn't push but makes sure you have something with that pill.

Hell try to help you with your bandages. But sometimes got queasy at the blood and stuff.

It was okay with you though.

You didnt mind that due to the fact that you too got queasy as well.

I think you guys sleep through this alot.

Wilbur and tommy visited.

You was shocked and confused when they had a few get well soon gifts.

Tommy got you a small fidget toy, just something to do with your hands sometimes.

Wilbur got you a few books and a small stuffed toy.

It was a orca.

You loved it but still loved the one that george got you.

He got you a little wooloo one.

It was something that was soft and easy to cuddle.

But the books wilbur gave you were amazing.

It gave you something to do for a long while. And it gave george some more cuddle time.

Other than not knowing what to do george was a great source of comfort.

Sapnap

Sapnap is a bit more experienced with it.

Kind of knowing what to do and all together he just know more then most people.

There is a regular schedule for you meds and so called meals, he changes out the dog pads if he notices them dirty. He knows how to maneuver himself next to you so there was no pain.

He also sucked up that he would be overwhelmingly hot and sat next to you under the blanket.You weren't nearly as cold because of that.

Also since sapnap lives with dream I imagine that dream pops in some times and so does patches.

You all were probably best friends as children. And people always thought that you and dream would get together.

Only because you two were more touchy.

But you saw him as an older brother, and took a liking to sapnap.

Dream was really suportive and saw you as a little sibling.

Dream probably saw you not doing to well and made you something to eat and brought your pain medication.

That was because sapnap was sleeping next to you.

Patches curled up between to two of you and dream brought in something you hadnt seen before.

A roll away bed.

This mother fucker got a whole new bed just so he could sleep in the same room as you and sapnap.

"Sapnap is a heavy sleeper. What if you need something?" He was correct.

You woke up to pain and discomfort.

Dream woke up but sapnap didnt.

You were mainly cold though...

How the hell were you cold with this man radiating radiation the heat of a thousand suns?

No clue. But probably the anesthesia since you were in sapnap room dream just opened the closet and tossed his hoodie to your lap.

You woke up sapnap when you put on the hoodie on accident.

He pushed up against your shoulder a bit more and draped his arm over your lap.

"What's wrong?" Sapnap mumble made you stiffen up. Dream seemed to fall back to sleep too.

"Just a bit cold." He lightly nodded into your neck.

"Mmmmmm. How though."-sapnap

"I dont fuckin know."-(y/n)

He let out a sleep chuckle and seemed to fall asleep again.

You just sat there. Patches and sapnap on you lap technically.

Sapnap woke up and made you breakfast at some point. You were in and out of it due to barely any sleep.

Dream woke up as well. You didnt even know when they left. But patches stayed with you.

Those weeks you were treated the best with these two with extra cuddles from patches.

I didnt know there was a max amount of paragraphs. But hey I guess it's something you find out sooner or later. So there is going to be a part 2. Including some character I missed.

Since people actually liked it here's the continuation of the modern Xiao camgirl!darling post I cut from the original, as promised, most if it's under a cut. Here’s the original post. I didn’t think people would actually like the camgirl concept so I thought I was rambling too much and cut this part out lol but here it is now!

Tws: derogatory language/female slurs, mentions of reader being a cheater, reader is promiscuous, murder, incel-y mentality (our modern boy would be a 4chan user, look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong) and mentions of upsetting realistic things, this one's darker than the first part. If you're bothered by other modern stuff for being too realistic best avoid this too probably, involuntary pornography ---------- Coming up on one year since you gained your most loyal subscriber, you get a rather... Unsettling request. He has something he would like this month, in fact, he adds a few hundred to the regular amount (he's been saving up just for this) and asks for just the answer to one simple question. What's your name?

Your real name, he clarifies. He doesn't need a last name, nothing like that. It would just... Make him feel closer to you. He avoids using the term "anniversary," even though that's what comes to mind. He also doesn't tell you that he already knows, that this is just a test of your honesty. For someone who's so cautious, you would think you would think to give a fake name whenever you go to coffee shops for them to yell out, or change it on the packages you get. You hesitate. And it would be easy to give him a fake one, yet, you don't really think about it too much, you kinda think about that as an afterthought, what you should have done, but your very real name is typed out and sent before you really process it, and you feel a sort of unease, but it's already sent. No big deal. He can't do much with just your first name, right? If your name is common, you feel pretty safe, but even if it's a rarer one, surely there are other people with it, right? He's happy though. Kinda surprised, really, that you didn't lie to him. Maybe you trust him?

You're not stupid, you know something is wrong, you're becoming paranoid. And you connect the weird feeling to him, bc he goes radio silence for several days leading up to finally taking you. This dude who used to respond to any messages you sent within 10 seconds suddenly... It's like he disappeared? He hasn't responded to anything you send him ever since you said your name. You send him messages saying you haven't heard from him in a while and you're worried... The way you word it makes it sound like you're worried about him, but you both know that's not what you really mean. You're hesitant and suspicious of every guy you meet. You buy pepper spray and start carrying some around, you nearly spray a poor guy who you thought was trailing you, turns out he just lives in your building. He makes note of it. He watched you buy it, and is quick to realize you always hold it in the same hand. That must be your dominant hand, that's an important mental note for the future, since you're more likely to try to attack him with that hand. He'll remember. He has a note in his phone with information like that. Height, weight, birthday, social security number, parents' names, school she graduated from. All in little bullet points. He adds dominant hand to the list. He's not worried at all really. Already watched you struggle to carry packages he could lift with one hand, your strength doesn't cross his mind as a threat. At first he just doesn't know what to say, and that's why he stops responding, he feels too awkward but... He starts to enjoy the weird feeling of power the whole situation is giving him. You're worried, you're constantly paranoid, and it's because of him. Now you finally understand the same feeling you inflict on him, how you consume his thoughts every waking moment of every day. It used to irritate him that you held so much power over him, while he meant nothing to you. Now, the tables have turned. You're forced to have him constantly in your mind, whether you like it or not, just like you are in his. It's giving you what you deserve. It gives him a feeling of significance. He matters, even if it's not in a good way. And he keeps telling himself that once he's all you have, he'll matter even more. He's smart enough to realize that if you're paranoid, you might have mentioned him by username to someone else, so to ensure he knows what to do from this point, he has to sneak into your apartment at night as you sleep. It's so unbearably tempting, you have no idea -- you're right there and so vulnerable. He has to hold himself back because he knows that if he so much as touched you, he couldn't hold back. But it's torture, standing there so close, watching your chest rise and fall as he fiddles with the phone. Even when he unlocks it with your thumb, he tries to hold the phone from an angle to do so, even if the skin of his hand grazes yours, it would be too much. You have a lot of contacts across your messages and a bunch of different apps. You have one guy in your online chat you've exchanged far more messages with than anyone else! Hundreds upon hundreds of messages, and huge paypal cash drops, who the hell is -- oh, wait, that's him. Nevermind. But, to his pleasant surprise, he's the only one of your... customers that you regularly talk to, the rest just have a few paypal notifications or clarifications on your policies, but no actual conversations like you have with him. Of course, that's literally part of your deal, he's literally paying for it, but it makes him happy nonetheless. But as he goes through your personal messages, he finds that you are... in no shortage of options. Like, holy shit. It was kind of expected. You *are* really pretty, that's how you have so many followers after all, but this is a lot. So many contacts named some variation of "DO NOT ANSWER!!!" or "creepy guy that forced me to give him my number at the club", etc etc. Plenty of unsaved numbers texting you to never get a response. You've ghosted enough dudes to make your place haunted. It's... kinda awful, really. It also kinda hurts his heart a bit more than he expected. You have so, so, so many options, even without the cam thing, he's more insignificant than he even realized. ...Well, for now, at least. He'll be significant to you soon enough. And then you seem to have a sort of "boyfriend of the month" deal going on, aside from that. Plenty of male-name contacts whose last exchange is a "don't talk to me again!" message from you, plenty of messages corresponding to the same time as those to your girl friends about how you can't find a good guy and every relationship ends badly. How unfortunate. See, it's because you choose bad guys. You probably go for dicks and not.... well, he can't exactly pull the "nice guys like me" mentality, he doesn't delude himself into thinking he is one. He's lucid enough to realize that most nice guys would not be sneaking into your house and standing over your sleeping body to stalk your phone as they make plans to kidnap you. He knows he would probably fall under the classification of a creepy guy. He's just too far gone to care. Still, he would be so much better to you, he tells himself, not a cheater or a player like you complain about. To say he resents those kinds of guys -- ones that can do the unthinkable and actually talk to girls, let alone successfully, only to be assholes, and yet girls like you still go for them -- is an understatement. You're basically just a slut, you probably ignore all the guys that would be nice to you, just like all those internet forums he reads talk about. Typical.

Well, those forums also make fun of guys like him who pay for girls like you, but he can't blame them. It *is* kinda pathetic. There is one dude you talk to, though, now. Current boyfriend of the month, from the looks of it. You have a little heart emoji next to the name. He knows it's kinda pathetic that something so simple and insignificant sets him off, but it does, makes him pout and grind his teeth and curl his other hand into a fist. It's so unfair. Some dude you barely know gets to fuck you, and you haven't even known him nearly as long as you've known him! He doubts this dude -- hell, any of your boyfriends -- has put in the same amount of money that he has into you. They fuck you practically for free. And that, unfortunately for you, only solidifies his decision. If you're fucking some dude for a month because they buy you dinner every now and then, if we're going by that scale, then you owe him quite a good deal of pussy. Any hesitancy or guilt he had about the whole thing is gone. And he's a little mad. Keeps grumbling to himself that you're just a loose whore, fucking so many people and putting yourself out there on the internet. He wonders if they even know about what you do. Probably not, you probably don't tell them. Yeah, that sounds like what you'd do. Really, you're kinda lucky that someone like him is so willing to commit to you, since you are a slut. You don't deserve it, but he loves you anyway. And you'll probably have the nerve to be ungrateful for it too. Sigh. On the bright side, by some miracle, it would appear that you have not told any real-life people about him, you haven't sent out any hey if I disappear you should probably look into this creep type of messages. But he can't afford to have you doing so in between now and when you move in with him, so, he decides he has to act within the next 24 hours. While he's here, though, he decides to do a quick sweep of your place. Makes note of what snacks and drinks you like, what brand of toothpaste and shampoo and the like you use, so he can buy some for you. Maybe you'll adjust better if you have some of your favorite things. And then, after days of silence, he sends you a message, says it's fine, his internet went out for a few days. He means it to reassure you, but somehow it makes you feel more uneasy. He has everything planned out, or so he thinks. But you deviate from your usual schedule. When you leave work or class, you don't go home, you go somewhere else, first. How strange. Maybe picking up groceries? He follows from a distance. No, looks like you're going out to eat...? Maybe you're meeting friends or family or -- no that's a guy. Fuck. You must have planned this just earlier today, since there were no messages on your phone. It makes a bitter feeling rise in his gut. He hates that he can't get close enough to listen to your conversation. Well, he hates the whole thing, sits there and seethes the whole time. Watches you through the windows in the parking lot, thankfully you chose to sit outside. Feels his eye twitch and his hand clench every time you smile and laugh. It takes way too long. The fact that you split the bill feels like a punch to the stomach too. Shouldn't you be used to taking guys' money? Oh, and what's this...? This guy isn't the picture on boyfriend-of-the-month's contact. Well, well, well. You really are a whore. See, it's a very good thing he's taking you off the market. You're probably a reckless heartbreaker too. He's doing all the other men of the world a favor by taking on such a burden as you. And it makes him feel far more justified in keeping you locked away, since he has every reason to believe, now, that you'd run off and fuck someone else if given the chance. Halfway through, the guy briefly gets up and runs to the bathroom or something. While he's gone, he sees your face fall a bit. And then he sees you look around. You turn your head from one side to the other. Your eyes scan the area. You shuffle uncomfortably and you bite your lip and your eyebrows furrow. You're scared. You feel like -- no, you know you're being watched and it scares you. That makes him a little happy, for some reason. He wouldn't be sure what to do if you went home with the guy, but thankfully you don't. No big deal, this was just a bump in the road, he still beats you back to your building and he still goes through with the original plan. Even better, now that it's even darker outside. If anything, now he's got extra aggression and testosterone in his blood, running over the events in his head and going through some... very forceful and violent fantasies. The message he sent had you uneasy, and it's also how you immediately know what's going on when it does finally happen. You keep telling yourself you're being unnecessarily paranoid, that it's nothing, maybe that guy actually got his life together or got a girlfriend or something. Things like... What you fear, don't happen in real life, that's stuff that only happens in movies and stuff. You keep calling it that or it in your head. That won't happen to you. It's not going to happen. The series of events that play out in your head, scenarios you try to push out of your mind. Sure, in the movies it always takes place in the stairwell, but that's fiction, so you go up the apartment stairwell as always. You're not gonna let a bunch of B-grade old films scare you. And it's always some dude standing and waiting, but that nice young boy that you've never seen before is just leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone, he only glances up for a second as you pass by, he's not a threat, you're being paranoid. You flash a smile and a little wave as you walk by, he doesn't return either, just looks back down at his phone. See? This guy doesn't even care, you're being paranoid for nothing, you tell yourself. But as you make the turn to go up the next set of stairs you hear the click of a phone being put on the lockscreen, a few metallic footsteps ringing out in the open hall and echoing, coming up right behind you, but for that split second you expect a tap on the shoulder, maybe he has a question, it's not like movies, it's not like movies, you're not gonna get a cloth shoved over your face and--- Well, it's not exactly like the movies. You were prepared, but it all happens in one motion - one hand grabs the hand with the spray and twists it, making you drop it, the other wraps some material over your mouth. You were prepared enough that you don't gasp in surprise, you hold your breath and thrash, but it doesn't make any difference, you wiggle and writhe for a few moments but can't even begin to break free, eventually succumb to the lack of oxygen and take a deep breath. It takes a few seconds to settle in, it's not so immediate. You instinctively panic and thrash again, but he has a complete iron grip. The dizziness takes a second to set in. He huffs a bit in frustration and says stop moving, it's fine. It's definitely not, but it occurs to you that that's not something a kidnapper looking for any potential vulnerable girl says. It's a poor attempt at comfort. It's someone specifically looking for you. And if that wasn't enough, he says your name. Your very real name. Maybe it was a mistake to tell him after all. But the worst part of it all is that there's not a single doubt in your mind, even in your panic you have the realization, it's definitely him and this is literally exactly what you were afraid of. And it's the last thing that goes through your head. And once he's got you out cold he just takes a sigh of relief. He may have been very neutral faced to you, but in reality he was incredibly nervous. He hasn't exactly made or used chloroform before, our boy is operating on YouTube tutorials here. He's got adrenaline pumping through his veins and carries you with his arms trembling. He's on autopilot carrying you out, but his mind is also consumed by holy fuck I'm touching her she smells so nice she's so warm her face is so close I'm actually touching her-- you get the idea. He feels bad about taping your hands and feet together and putting you in the trunk of his car, kinda. It feels too much like what a really bad person would do to a girl they didn't care about, like he's a trafficker or a murderer or a criminal or something, but that's not true at all. Sure, he's still mad at you for being a whore and all that, but it feels improper, he just has no choice. It's late at night, but he can't risk getting pulled or being at a stoplight and someone seeing an unconscious girl in his backseat, so, trunk it is. But once he's home, to his tiny little downtown apartment (he'll probably be able to move into a better place soon, since he's not paying you tons of money anymore), he takes a quick check to make sure the coast is clear, and drags you out, up the stairs, all the way into his apartment, sets you down on the bed, where you'll be staying. He even washed the sheets and cleaned the place up a bit for your arrival. You probably would not like to see what this place looked like before the five trash bags worth of cleaning was done. He'll probably be more motivated in the future, though, since now he won't be so depressed all the time. And then the adrenaline of the fear of being seen is over, and that's when it sets in that this is real. It's very, very hard to hold back. You're real, in the flesh, he can reach out and touch you with his hands! It feels like a dream. And he realizes he can take this opportunity to do things he would be far, far too embarrassed to do when you're awake. He takes a few minutes to do just that, cautiously reaches out to poke your face, and then run a hand down your neck, your skin is so soft! Your hair smells so nice, he lays down beside you and runs his fingers over it. Puts hands on your body and just lays there in awe of the fact that you're real. He's pretty certain he's never actually touched a human female before now. Everything about you feels soft. Weirdly feminine, which is something very foreign and confusing to him. And he kinda uh... Loses it. Goes buckwild with just taking in every aspect of you. Again, since you're unconscious he can be gross and entirely shameless about it. Peels your clothes off and runs his hands and mouth over every inch of flesh, takes the tape off your lips and presses his tongue into your limp mouth until he's forced to let go to breathe, fingers you and tonguefucks you and sucks on your nipples and your neck. Lays pressed against you and just breathes in your scent. It takes every ounce of self control he has not to fuck you already. But he does jerk off a few times. That way he'll last longer, so it's a win-win. And then... you twitch. Tape goes back over your mouth. And then, you twitch again. And this time, you make a little "mm!" under the tape, you start trembling and he sees you try to pull your hands apart. You whimper. It sounds scared and distressed. He feels kinda bad, but it also makes him hard, and that outweighs any guilt by far. Besides, it's what you deserve after what you did earlier. You tortured him mentally, it's only fair. On the good side of things, you suppose, you don't have to worry about the usual fears one would have over such a situation - you're fairly certain he's not going to kill you, nor sell you. In fact, the bed you wake up on is pretty soft. You're naked and the tape is uncomfortable, but... At least he was considerate enough to give you a blanket. He does care about you, after all. First thing he says is asking if you're awake. Can you hear me? You hesitate a moment, and then you nod. He's a bit new to this whole abduction thing. He wants to make sure he didn't pull a muscle or something with the tape. So... Do you hurt anywhere? Does your head hurt? Oh, right, the tape. He's not stupid either. You have to promise you're not going to scream. In fact, he's angry enough about earlier that he gets a bit meaner than he originally told himself he'd be. If you scream, I'll make you regret it. Understand? You nod, so he takes it off, holding it close in preparation in case you were lying, but you don't actually answer him, you're silent again for a minute, then just ask a question of your own. You're that guy, right? He's silent for a few seconds, there's no need for any clarification. Finally just says yeah. You just breathe again. Silently. Finally you summon the courage to ask him what he wants with you. And why are you doing this to me? And his answer is fairly simple. What do you think? You don't say anything for a minute, and neither does he. He's not good with words, and you don't really have ones for this situation. It occurs to you that offering to pay him to let you go is probably not the solution. After all, this is the guy that's dumped unimaginable amounts of money onto you, you couldn't even come close to paying him back. You figure maybe, after he gets what he wants... well, you get the courage to ask.  Is there anything... that I can do o-or... anything that will make you... are you gonna let me go, after you....? And the answer is, again, simple, but the one you did not want to hear. No. He's a blunt boy, so he doesn't beat around the bush, but he doesn't torment you by keeping anything from you. In fact, he's already rehearsed this speech a few hundred times in his head. He just wanted to make sure he's very clear so there's no misunderstanding, and while he likes some discomfort in a vengeful sort of way, he doesn't want you to be too freaked out to where you have a panic attack. He says he's just going to... keep you here. He has the things you'll need. He got your purse with your keys, so he'll even run to your apartment after this to go get some of your stuff. You don't need to tell him which number, he adds, he already knows which apartment you're in. He needs you here, he says. And he makes sure to add that it's your fault. If you were never out there selling yourself in the first place, this never would have happened. If you're good, he can make things a bit better for you. But you need to go ahead and accept that you're going to be staying and that no amount of begging or offers is going to convince him to let you go. He can be nice to you, he promises. A better boyfriend than the others. You just have to be a good girlfriend -- you know, obedient and sweet and do what he says. Just like you always were when you talked to him. Just keep being sweet like that and doing the things he tells you to do. You would argue that the terms boyfriend and girlfriend are not appropriate descriptors of the sort of relationship he's creating, but you keep that thought to yourself. Instead, you ask, How long are you going to keep me here? Which is a dumb question, since he's pretty sure he already made that clear. Forever. -----

There's a double homicide in the area. Takes place on the same night, and the same diameter of knife is used, so police believe maybe the two incidents are connected. Especially because they do have something in common, one girl. She was romantically involved with both of them. The girl in question's apartment has been vacated, very suddenly, and the girl has disappeared without a trace, taking things with her from the looks of it, so police believe she may be responsible, but other than that, they have no leads. A few weeks later, a video circulates all over the internet. Some famous camgirl finally started making porn, apparently. Just one video, but the description (which was totally written by her, it has to be since it's written in first person right?) says something about how she decided to quit camming, so this video marks the end of her career. She got into a relationship, so she says in the description, so she has to quit. It's roleplay porn, apparently, she's doing a good job at the acting. All tied up and gagged and getting fucked by some big-dicked guy holding the camera. He's silent, but she's making a ton of noise, cums several times. Really good acting, the fear and desperation in her eyes looks so real. Talk about going out with a bang. It gets a lot of likes. Tons of comments about how sad people are she's quitting. And of course, a lot of comments say, what a lucky guy.

Returning The Favour - Bucky Barnes x F! Reader part 2 (smut)

Summary: After one hell of a day, you decide to help Bucky relax, and to repay the favour from a few nights ago. 

Warnings: 18+ only, smut ahead! Oral/blowjob – M receiving, hand job – m receiving, swearing/cursing, p in v sex (unprotected) – doggy style, face sitting, cowgirl, just pure filth, tbh. 

Smut under the cut!!

Word count: 4.5k+

A/n: A little bit of body positivity added in here too. You are all beautiful, and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise  

A/N: This is part 2 of A Helping Hand, but as there isn’t much of a plot (aside from the smut. I mean, c’mon), it can also be read as a standalone!! It touches briefly on the plot of FATWS, but nothing really detailed. 

Permanet Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood​

Part 1

A few weeks had passed by since that night Bucky had devoured you, tearing your soul to pieces and burning through you like wildfire. 

You hadn’t stopped thinking about it… and hadn’t stopped thinking about him. 

His hands on your body, searing lines into your skin, one hot and one cold. 

The drag of his tongue inside your walls, letting you ride his face whilst the world crashed down through you. 

His hand, that damned vibranium hand fucking you into oblivion. 

God, you needed him. You needed more of him, all of him. You wanted him to tear you apart again and knit you back together with his lips and his tongue. 

You wanted him to feel the same release you had the same earth-shattering pleasure. 

You’d tried to calm the fire by using your own fingers and toys, but no matter how much you replayed that night in your head – in perfect clarity – it just wasn’t the same anymore. 

Your toys, which you had spent a hell of a lot of money on… just didn’t do it. They weren’t enough. 

They weren’t… him. 

You couldn’t concentrate on your work, earning you more disapproval from Fury and he even asked you what the hell was going on and would you mind keeping your thoughts on the job, not on whatever was making you zone into space for twenty minutes straight with that look on your face. 

Luckily, you had managed to escape anymore of Nick’s wrath, by tagging along with Bucky as he went to help Sam, who was engaged in trying to take down a group of rebels called the Flag Smashers. 

You’d arrived to help him and the three of you set about doing what you could, also whilst trying to avoid John Walker, who had been rebranded as the new Captain America. 

Touchy subject. Best not to go there. 

Anyway, back on the case of the Flag Smashers.  They were being supplied with Super soldier serum from someone called the Power Broker, and the boys were at a loose end as to how to learn more. 

Well of course, there was one person who was the most knowledgeable about the serum. 

Helmut Zemo, a Sokovian villain who looked like he’d walk straight out of a film about British spies, fast cars and imaginative villains. 

You knew Bucky’s past with him, of course. 

You had fought alongside the others when Zemo triggered Bucky into becoming the Winter Soldier again. 

So, you had to admit you were surprised when you learned that Bucky himsef had ‘hypothetically’ given Zemo the way out of his German prison. 

Plans had been made, which is how tonight, you’d found yourself in Madripoor, each of you posing as a different persona. 

Sam was to be the ‘Smiling Tiger.” 

You were Zemo’s… acquaintance. His “Little Bird” he’d called you – much to Bucky’s frustration. At first, you thought it was simply because Zemo was… well, he was a ‘bad guy’. 

But as the night wore on, you noticed the looks Bucky shot the pair of you, his jaw clenching every single time Zemo’s hand brushed your waist, or he pressed his nose to your hair. 

The Baron didn’t touch you in any way you hadn’t already discussed, and you were comfortable but… the icy glint in Bucky’s eye, the tightening of his mouth when you asked him what was wrong, and he stayed silent… 

Something more was going on. More than just the role he was required to play. 

Bucky was be the Winter Soldier again. The very man he tried so desperately to escape from, the man who’s actions he was still trying to make amends for. 

You’d had to watch him play the Soldier all night, watch the tension build and build in the clenched muscle of his jaw, in the hard line of his shoulders and the tight prowl in his walk. 

Which was why, after escaping a fight and getting a little banged up yourself, you were looking into the mirror in your hotel room, adjusting the straps of the lingerie set you had slipped into. 

Okay, so maybe it was cliché. 

But Bucky had had one hell of a night. You could practically feel the tension rolling off of him from his hotel room opposite your own. 

You still had a favour to repay him, so why not go all out? He deserved it. 

Besides, you had spent a long time working up the confidence to look into the mirror and be happy and proud of what you saw, instead of feeling the need to change. 

You were proud of yourself and needed no-one else’s approval. 

But it didn’t mean it wasn’t rewarding to hear. 

Especially from a man with a wicked jawline and killer baby-blues. 

With one final shake of your hair, you pulled on your silky robe, padding to the door of your hotel room and you slipped into the cool hallway. Goosebumps rose on your skin as you moved across the plush carpet, knocking on Bucky’s door. 

Thank the lords, saints, old-gods and the new that Zemo was a Baron. This hotel was expensive, luxurious and did not have that funky smell that most hotels seemed to have. 

The rooms were lavish and richly decorated, the bathroom dripping with taste and money and the bed… well. The bed was certainly big enough for what you had in mind tonight. 

You were thoroughly determined to wreck the neatly folded covers. 

A few moments later, you heard footsteps and then the door opened. Those eyes greeted you, though they were deeper, like the colour of the sea in a storm. 

Bucky tilted his head, one hand braced on the door to open it, frowning slightly when he saw you. It was late after all. “Is everything alright, doll?” He peered down the hallway, like he was looking for threats. 

You shook your head lightly, “Nothing’s wrong, Bucky…” Lifting your eyes to his through your lashes, you moved your hands to the front of your robe, “I just thought I’d return the favour. And help you relax…” 

At your honeyed tone, at the movement in your hands, Bucky went rigid. Less in a tense way, more in anticipation. His eyes zeroed in on your hands, watching as you undid the sash and let the silk robe fall open, baring your body to him. 

Clad in gorgeous lace and delicate fabric of your favourite colour, the lingerie clung to the shape of your body, flaunting it and accentuating every beautiful line. 

Oh, it had so been worth the small fortune it cost. 

You were glad you had purchased more.

The door creaked, wood protesting as his vibranium arm gripped it. Bucky’s pupils dilated, black blotting out the blue as he raked his eyes over every inch of you. It wasn’t creepy or possessive. It was… worshipping. Awestruck. 

You had him in the palm of your already. 

Soon, it would be physically. 

“Are you going to let me in, Buck? There’s so many ways I could help you relax…” You let the robe slip off of your shoulders, leaving you incredibly bare in the middle of the very open hallway, in the very expensive, reputable hotel. 

But you didn’t care. 

Not with the way his Arctic eyes had deepened to the colour of cobalt, searing into you with the same fire that he had consumed with the other night. 

Not as he stood back, letting you in and following every single movement you made, the sway of your hips, the feline smile gracing your lips as you sashayed past him. He was enraptured by you, rendered helpless by the mere sight of you.

You saw his hands clench just before he turned to shut the door, like he was stopping himself from pulling you into his body and shredding the scraps of lace and velvet that were a barrier to your gorgeous skin and curves. 

The door snicked shut softly, shutting you both off from the rest of the world. 

You turned to face Bucky, extending your hand to him, “Come here.” You kept that honey rich tone, but you had no need to raise your voice, because Bucky had moved before the words even left your mouth. 

He slid his left hand into yours, the vibranium cool against the warmth of your skin. It was welcome, for you were burning an inferno inside that you were hiding very, very well. In fact, you were already wet, since the moment you slipped that lingerie on and saw your refection in the mirror. 

You pressed your lips to the back of Bucky’s hand, saying with movement what you knew he wouldn’t believe in words. 

That it was beautiful, strong… an extension of the graceful, deadly power that he had honed. You were never, ever afraid of it. Not even tonight, when he was playing the Soldier. Not even when he was the Soldier. 

Lifting your eyes to his, you let your tongue dart out, tracing along the golden grooves in the plates of dark vibranium. 

Fuck, the mere taste of the cool metal brought you back to that night. 

You moaned a little in the back of your throat, appreciatively and flattened your tongue over his knuckles, bringing his fingers into your mouth and sucking on them delicately, just as you had before. Except this time, it was you in charge. 

Bucky twitched, in every sense of the word. The plates of his arm clicked just faintly, like he was restraining himself even as a soft growl rumbled in the base of his chest. The sight of you sucking on his fingers again only made his jeans even more uncomfortable and he longed to feel your hot wet tongue on his skin. Every single inch of his skin. 

His own hand wasn’t enough anymore, especially not after that night. It had been near painful for him when he left, and he’d barely made it back to his own room before his hand was jamming into his boxers and he fucked his own palm until he was crying your name through gritted teeth. 

Never before had he felt such an urge to have feeling in his left hand, to feel your walls clench around him as you fell apart above him. 

It was like you could read his mind. 

You slipped off of his fingers with a small pop, a wicked gleam in your eyes as you dropped your hands to his belt buckle. Seconds later, you were undoing the zipper to his jeans, wasting no time in looping your fingers into both the waistband of his jeans, and the band of his boxers. 

You pulled them slowly down, lower and lower past his hips until his heavy swollen cock sprung free. 

Holy fucking shit. 

He was huge. 

Thick and smooth, the head already swollen and leaking. 

You wanted to taste him. 

You wanted him down your throat and buried inside you every single way until you could feel nothing but him, think of nothing but him. 

Forcing back your impatience, you slowly lowered, pulling his jeans down until they reached his ankles, and you were on your knees before him. 

Looking up through your eyelashes, you saw his head tilted down to watch you, is chin touching his chest. Those ridiculous eyes were fiercely burning, and his full, plush lips had parted in an effort to suck in more air. 

Oh, you were going to wreck him. 

You rose up a little higher, pressing your lips to the patch of neatly trimmed curls before following a trail lower, and then dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock, over that swollen vein that made you positively feral. 

Bucky’s hands flew into your hair, a barely restrained groan rising from his chest and he muttered, “Shit – shit.” 

Barely able to restrain the grin, you darted your tongue into the tiny slit, gathering that little bead of precum and then you took him into your mouth, inch by inch.

Fucking hell.

He was heavy, hot in your mouth and the velvety feel of his skin against your tongue and teeth was something you might just have died to feel again. 

You kept him still for a second, really wanting to draw this out for him – and because the weight of him against your jaw was sending floods of pleasure between your thighs and you knew the expensive lace of your underwear was already drenched. 

Bucky twitched, both inside your mouth and out and he tugged a little on your hair, “Baby, you gotta move – please, move.” 

Had this been a normal game you were playing; you might have let him suffer a little longer. But this was about relaxing him, about making him feel better so you granted him his wish and began to bob your head up and down. 

His soft moans were a symphony to your ears, a song you quickly learned the rhythm of as you moved faster, hollowing your cheeks now and then so he felt the drag of your wet, warm cheeks. 

His moans turned into curses when you reached up to toy with his balls, massaging them just slightly as you dragged your lower teeth against the vein. 

He jerked forward, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat suddenly, “Fuck, sorry baby, I didn’t mean to-“ 

His apologies were almost stammered, but you swiftly cut him off with a sinful moan. 

The mere feel of him, the pressure of him pushing against your throat nearly made you explode there and then. 

Your eyes rolled back slightly, hips rocking against nothing by instinct and fingers digging into his thighs. 

Bucky swore softly under his breath, his voice nothing more than a broken whisper, “You – you liked that?” 

Nodding around him, you pulled all the way off briefly, “Yes.” You gasped the word, pumping him with your hand a few times before taking him in your mouth again, sucking him with all the force of someone eating a five-star meal. 

You devoured him, setting a relentless pattern of kitten licks, hollowing your cheeks and licking that throbbing vein. You let him brush the back of your throat a few times, never gagging, only crying out with pleasure at the press of him. 

And Bucky’s moans… God, you could forgo music for the rest of your life and listen only to those noises his made. 

Wanting more, more of those delicious moans and growls from him, you relaxed the muscles in your throat, pushing him down all the way until your nose was once again brushing his curls. 

It was hard to distinguish your moan from his, the way his hands yanked hard in your hair, your fingers digging into his ass cheeks to force him deeper down your throat. You took a deep breath in through your nose, moaning at the heady scent of him as it pervaded your sense. 

More, - you wanted to take him deeper and deeper until you couldn’t speak tomorrow without feeling him there. 

You slid a hand down, grasping his balls once again and you palmed them, massaging and tugging them as you shook your head lightly against him, making him rock against your windpipe.

“Fuck!” Bucky’s head tilted back, his rough moan bouncing off the elaborately decorated walls and his legs trembled, signalling how close he was, how thoroughly you were hauling him toward that edge. 

You felt his balls tighten in your hand, felt how close he was so you squeezed them harder and at the same time, swallowed around the thick length of him.  

A broken version of your name echoed above your, both of his hands tightening in your hair so fiercely, you feared he might snap a bone. “Shit, shit-” His hips jerked forward and then he shattered apart, exploding in hot ropes down your throat. 

You heard him mutter an apology, but you didn’t care, you couldn’t care because he tasted divine. 

You drew back slowly, pumping him a few times with your free hand until he was gasping in a ragged breath, his legs threatening to give way, so with a gentle judge, you pushed him back on the bed. 

He plopped down weakly, watching with wide eyes as you lifted your head, wiping the corner of your mouth with a feline grin. “Sweetheart, that was-“

A finger to his lips cut him off, “Oh, no no. I’m not done with you yet, Buck.” You quickly rid him of his shirt, revealing the broad plane of his shoulders and chest and then you urged him up the bed. As he lay back, you climbed on top of him, rising up on your knees. “I believe you made me come… three times was it?” 

And that was when James Buchanan Barnes whimpered. A sound of pure carnal need and anticipation. 

You grinned at him, reaching behind your chest to unclasp the delicate bra, before sliding it from your shoulders and throwing it to the side of the room. “I intend to repay the favour, and then some, Soldier.” You reached down for both his hands, placing them on your breasts. One warm, one icy cold. 

Both your moans echoed in tandem, especially when he tightened his hands, squeezing and pulling at the soft flesh. “So beautiful…” He mumbled the words lowly, his voice a rough rasp and his ministrations caused you to arch your back further into his touch, allowing yourself a moment of pleasure. 

But not for too long, because you soaked through the lace of your underwear, and you might well have been dripping down your thigh at this point. Dropping a hand, you moved your underwear to the side, before gliding your fingers through your glistening folds. 

Yep, you were right. 

“All of this is for you, Bucky. Because of how good you tasted in my mouth.” You moaned delicately, eyelashes fluttering as you circled your clit a few times, “How thick you were in my throat.” You gathered some of your wetness on your fingertips, before pressing them to Bucky’s lips, “See...”

He wasted no time in drawing your fingers into his mouth, dragging his teeth along the skin and cleaning every single millimetre. He seemed determined to pay you back, to try and make you feel some of the desperation he had felt. 

You let it go, only because the combination of his hands pulling at your nipples and his hot tongue sliding between your fingers. You lowered down, resting over his already hardened length before dragging up and down it a few times, coating him in your slick. Low moans came from your throat, your eyes fluttering closed as you rocked yourself against him, waiting for him to recover for round two. 

He soon groaned around your fingers, earning you a muffled, “Baby.” In an impatient tone as he twitched underneath you, hard and throbbing again.

Fine, you could give in. 

You grasped his cock, before rising up and then lowering back down, taking him in. 

Every single damn inch of him. 

The stretch of your walls was painfully delicious, making you throw your head back and cry out softly, a low keen until you were seated on his thighs again. He was buried to the hilt inside of you and you could feel him everywhere. In your belly, in your toes, in your spine even. 

Bucky’s back arched off of the bed, teeth clamping down on your fingers and his hands tightening on your breasts, before falling to your thighs where his fingertips dug into the soft flesh, “Fucking hell.” He gasped in a breath, lowering his head, “Look at me.” 

The words were choked as you dropped your chin, meeting his eyes and the look int hem nearly floored you. 

Near midnight blue with desire and lust, but they glinted like the night sky, full of admiration and… adoration of you. Complete and utter adoration. 

Shit.

You stayed where you were for a second, speechless from the look of unbarred emotion on his face as the pair of you adjusted. Bucky soon swallowed, croaking again, “Move, darlin’ – please, move.” 

Well, you didn’t need telling twice. 

You rose up off him a few inches, before dropping back down with enough force to sear your spine in half. You quickly set an earth-shattering pace, rising up before sinking back down, his hips rising to meet you and push that little bit further inside. 

Once again, the room filled with the scent of sex, the symphony of your bodies gliding with each other, mixed with Bucky’s rough moans and mutterings and your keening cries. 

His hands grasped your hips, tight enough to bruise even with his right hand, but you didn’t care. You wanted to be marked, you wanted to feel him tomorrow. 

And you wanted to mark him too. 

You dropped down over his body, bringing him for a messy, deep kiss that was all stroking tongues and teeth. 

He groaned into your mouth when you rotated your hips around him, this new angle causing your clit to drag against his firm muscles and rough curls. 

The sensation was absolutely mind-blowing, and you dragged your mouth from his to bite at his jaw and neck, swearing against his hot skin, “Fucking hell, Bucky, you feel so good. You have no idea how good you feel – filling me up. So big-” The words were stumbly, broken sentences but you knew he understood them because he matched them. 

Telling you how tight you were, how deep you were taking him. How good you looked fucking yourself and taking what you deserved – it was all yours. 

You soon felt the pressure build in your lower back and belly, at the same time Bucky’s hips were snapping up into yours with more urgency. Quickly, you dragged yourself back to sit up, and began to ride him with wild abandon. His left hand came up to yours, giving you an anchor as you fucked him relentlessly, making the pair of you cry out with wordless groans of ecstasy. 

To Bucky, you looked like – no, you were a goddess. Your body moving with carnal grace, head thrown back and those gorgeous moans and curses falling from your parted lips. 

To him… there would never be a more beautiful sight. 

Just as you began to grind your hips in circles with each downward motion, words started to spill from those plush lips, like he wasn’t in control, “You have no idea how much I wanted to tear Zemo apart tonight. His hands all over you – they shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t be touched like that.” 

His lips parted wider for a moment, his hips thrusting up to meet your circular motions and it made the head of his cock thud against that spot deep inside you, sending shockwaves through your spine. 

Your whimpering plea spurred him on, kept him hitting that spot with hard pressure that threatened to tear you to pieces, “You’re a goddess - Not a fucking piece of arm candy. The sight of him touching you-” He snarled, pulling you down hard on his dick for a second, taking the opportunity to rotate his own hips this time, “That should be me. Worshipping you. Not him.” 

His rough words and the sheer intensity of his thrusted hurtled you closer and closer to that edge, the admissions sending just as much pleasure through you as his hard length. 

That should be me.

Did he mean…?

You looked down through hazed eyes, like you were seeing all of this with a fresh gaze. 

Bucky was already a mess beneath you, his head tilted back, and the line of his throat held taught. His deep curls with a mess, ruffled up over his forehead and the pillows. 

Beautiful. 

Bucky’s hips were starting to lose rhythm as he jerked up into you, but he never failed to repeatedly hit that spot, again and again. 

You both chased down your orgasms, and with one final grind of your hips, one final sharp jerk of his own, you fell to pieces in tandem. 

Bucky’s back arched, freezing as he spurted his hot load up inside you, at the same time your walls clenched around him, milking him for everything he had as your combined wetness slipped down his balls, making a mess of his skin – and the bed. 

Like either of you could care. 

Time lost all meaning yet again as you came down from your high, and later, you’d remember only by the places your bodies occupied. 

Bucky hauled you up, finished with the lack of control and he took you against the floor to ceiling windows, your breasts pressed to the cool glass, the city twinkling below you as Bucky fucked you deep from behind, that vibranium hand against fitted snug around your throat. 

Then on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, his dick sliding down your throat again as his tongue dragged between your folds, your knees braced either side of his head as you held onto his thighs. 

When you retired to the sunken tub to wash up, you found yourself seated on Bucky’s lap, riding him once more with the hot, jasmine scented water splashing over the ornate tiles, your combined moans mingling with the steamy air. 

The whole time, Bucky’s words played over and over in your head, echoing in the tiny space of your mind that wasn’t sex-addled. 

He wanted to be the one to walk into a club with you on his arm. He wanted everyone in the room to know he worshipped the very ground you walked on, the air that you breathed. 

It wasn’t like the feelings weren’t reciprocated either. 

It had been the blue-eyed soldier in the forefront of your mind for months and months now, perhaps even far before that. 

And it wasn’t until you were back on the bed, covers strewn on the floor that things truly shifted. 

Bucky’s hands were gripping your thighs, pulling you down to fuck his face and tongue whilst you gripped onto the headboard, his groans of delight muffled against your wet heat. 

The feeling was… other-worldly. 

Your sexual partners of the past had gone down on you, sure. You’d even been in this exact position once, but it was nothing compared to Bucky. 

No one worked you over with the same acute knowledge of what you liked, before you even knew it yourself. 

His nose nudged against your clit, providing the perfect pressure whilst he spearheaded his tongue deep within you. Every time he did, he pulled you lower, shaking his head from side to side so that his stubble scratched your sensitive inner thighs and your swollen folds.  

Words were beyond you, and all you could do was make incoherent moans and keens, sure the people in the rooms surrounding yours could hear your screams, but you didn’t care. 

Especially when Bucky dragged his teeth over your clit, ever so lightly biting it and causing you to hurtle into the outer atmosphere and forget everything.  

You collapsed, losing the tension in your legs and only Bucky’s hands shooting up to your ribs stopped you from smashing your forehead on the wall. 

Light exploded across your vision, your blood roaring in your ears and you couldn’t move, your body was completely boneless. You were truly spent, muscles twitching with aftershocks and you only just noticed Bucky coaxing you to lay down next to him. 

You faded in and out of a warm haze, registering a warm cloth gliding between your legs, over your flushed skin. 

“Go on a date with me.” 

The soft words underlined with that oh-so familiar rasp brought you rushing back to the present. “You... what?” 

“Go on a date with me.”

You snapped your eyes open, only to be met with the Arctic ocean, almost glowing from within with sated desire. 

Curling your lips up into a smile, you gently dragged Bucky’s head down to yours, pressing your lips to his equally swollen ones, “Okay.” 

So how much do you want to fucking bet that for the “Vision is Ultron” episode of “What If”, they’re basically going to sell it as:

“No matter what, whether the mind stone was used or not, Ultron/Vision would have always been created as a monster because his sole creator Tony Stark is a monster.”

To add, they’re also going to kill Tony off again, with Vision/Ultron talking about all the bullshit that was said in “Age of Ultron”, of how he’s a “sickness” and a “monster” and how he did the right thing by killing him and all that jazz.  

And I’m so fucking over it.

Like, I get it.  Tony Stark is a perfect choice for a scapegoat to hate for a good chunk of MCU fans, as he has all the things people hate:

He’s a billionaire (a born into money billionaire), which ya know, “eat the rich” and all.  He’s a man, he’s white, he’s cisgender, he’s straight (questionable to some fans, but there’s no fucking way any Marvel executives would say Tony’s bisexual or pansexual, no way).  

So due to this, most MCU fans hate his guts as he represents at least one group of people that they loathe.  I’m not saying these are the sole reasons anti-Tony people hate him, but they can’t say that it’s not at least one of the reasons.

But making him the scapegoat over and over is so fucking absurd, especially when the whole fucking point of Tony’s story is that he wants to become better, not just for his loved ones but for the world.

But with the stigma he already has with what he was born with/into, fans have absolutely no fucking trouble twisting any bad situation into blaming Tony, since he represents all the things they hate in real life anyway. 

Tony’s entire arc was supposed to show with each movie, that he wanted to become better and to truly help people.  But literally every single action Tony makes, everyone interprets it as “he’s only doing it for his ego/to protect himself.”

Tony flies a nuclear bomb into a wormhole? “Oh, he only did that because he wanted the praise of being the hero who saved the day.”  Tony wanting a defense system to protect Earth? “Oh, he only wants that because he doesn’t want to do anything to help Earth himself and wants all of the credit.”  Tony literally dying destroying an army that was going to destroy the universe? “Oh, but that doesn’t make him a hero, everything he did was always about him.  He’s still a selfish piece of shit because he didn’t want to erase his daughter (and probably millions of other children) out of existence.”  No matter what Tony does, everyone twists it as something he’s doing only for himself.

But even a little example of how everyone just twists anything and everything they can about Tony:   I saw a post talking about how they were glad Thor wasn’t friends with that “toxic piece of shit” because all Tony did throughout Endgame was mock Thor’s depression/PTSD. 

And I was like.......what fucking movie were you watching?

He did call Thor “Lebowski”, which, yes, was definitely mean-spirited.  But the entire movie?  Huhhhh?

Here’s where they twist their views to whatever they want to see.  I’ve watched Endgame over and over, and besides the Lebowski joke, I cannot come up with one point in which Tony mocks Thor.  But thinking about it, I have a pretty good idea of how anti-Tony people twisted their look on the film to see Tony mocking Thor throughout the entire thing.

In the scene where Thor is insisting on doing the snap to bring everyone back, Tony steps in and tells him he’s not in condition to do so.  In my head, and the way I’m pretty sure it was supposed to be interpreted, Tony does this because he’s concerned for Thor because he knows how bad of a place he’s in and doesn’t want to push him even further.  But to someone who hates Tony, they most likely interpreted the scene as Tony mocking Thor and calling him “weak.”  I have no fucking clue how they came to that conclusion, but I’m pretty sure that’s what they saw. 

And now, lets go back to Ultron and talk about a character and situation that infuriates me to no end.  Wanda and her involvement with Ultron.

Not only did the writers and characters of “Age of Ultron” have absolutely no problem in solely blaming Tony for what Ultron became, the majority of the people who watched it had no problem with it too. Even when in the fucking movie, it’s literally stated that Wanda manipulated his mind in hopes he would take the mind stone 

“I didn’t expect (gestures to Ultron), but I saw Stark’s fear, I knew it would control him, make him self-destruct.”

She fucking says she wanted him to take the mind stone because she knew it would cause something terrible to happen.

I’m pretty sure 99% of the reason Ultron became what he became was because of the mind stone, which was only even used in Tony’s program because Wanda basically mind controlled him into using it.  

And fucking yet.

Everyone, the characters and fans alike, were over the moon with Wanda’s bullshit “Stark can’t see the difference between saving the world and destroying it, where do you think he gets that from?” as it proved to them that Tony Stark was the monstrous villain they thought he was all along.

 AND FUCKING YET.

Tony’s whole fucking goal with the Ultron program in the first place was to protect Earth from threats he believed they wouldn’t be able to fight (and he was fucking right).  Wanda’s goal was to kill Tony, which fine, won’t get into that bullshit completely. But I’m 99% positive the scene where she lets the Hulk loose in Johannesburg that probably killed dozens of people, showed us that Wanda doesn’t really fucking care who gets killed, even if they’re innocent, as long as Tony Stark is in the body count.  And then when she finds out Ultron plans on killing everyone, which includes her and her brother, then she “see’s the light.”  BUT THEN STILL SOLELY BLAMES TONY FOR EVERYTHING SHE BASICALLY CAUSED, and the characters and the audience are like “YAS, WE STAN A QUEEN WHO EATS (AND KILLS) THE RICH!”

So coming around full circle, I’ve just had fucking enough of this scapegoating bullshit the writers have and will continue to be pulling on Tony Stark.  The “What If” Episode with Vision/Ultron will once again put the “Tony Stark was the main villain of the MCU and everything ever is his fault.”

And the fact that so many fans can and will twist anything Tony does to fit their narrative, and that the writers give them the ammunition with the scapegoating bullshit even though there’s so much evidence that shows `how truly good of a person Tony is just so fucking infuriating, disheartening, and just sad.

Self care story of the day (loosely based on true events):

"You set one muddy fucking shoe in this kitchen, and I will break your fucking dick."

Bucky didn't even look up from the grout he was scouring to issue the threat to Steve, who was just coming in from the backyard.

One foot still hovering in the air, Steve easily turned on his planted heel, back out the door, and around the front of the house, sending a quick text to Nat and Sam; Bleach Alert.

Bucky was stress cleaning again.

Thankfully, as college and their relationship were mellowing, Bleach Alerts had become fewer and fewer. Bucky's stress levels had lowered, his anxiety was more under control, and he was finally comfortable enough to lean on Steve and talk to him when things were getting tough.

But they still happened, from time to time.

Steve was silent as he eased the front door open just enough to grab his keys, although he doubted he needed to be: Bucky had had his headphones on over the bandanna tied around his hair, but better safe than sorry.

The drive to Nat's place was quiet and quick, Steve chewing on the inside of his lip as he remembered how red Bucky's face was while he was scrubbing, and how damp his bandanna already had been. He allowed himself a brief stab of guilt for not noticing the indicators in his lover, but refused to let himself wallow.

-

Nat was already waiting for him on the sidewalk in front of her apartment when he pulled up, setting a small paper bag on the passenger seat through the window.

"Tell him to text me once he's level," she said, popping her gum. "We're due for a mani-pedi session at Darcy's anyways."

"I will," Steve promised, holding out a small wad of folded bills. Natasha took it without blinking; she was a college student, Steve could afford it, and a new Italian joint had just opened up down the street that she wanted to try. She was walking towards it as Steve pulled back into traffic.

-

Sam was also waiting on the curb as Steve slowed to a stop in front of his house. Steve quickly shifted the bag Nat had given him to the backseat, a rush of lavender, vanilla, and tangerine tickling his nose at the motion.

"They didn't have the Spicy Tuna rolls," Sam said as he settled a plastic bag full of food containers on the passenger seat, "but they had Dragon rolls, and I got you the variety Rainbow rolls. And I threw in some cinnamon rolls I made this morning, icing on the side."

Steve leaned over to clasp Sam's hand in gratitude, "I seriously owe you. Bucky and I will come visit soon, okay? Or we'll take you out to dinner. Something."

"Just let me know when he's alright. And ask him to make me those rum ball things. Need my fix, man."

Steve laughed and nodded. "You got it. Take care, Sam."

"You, too, Rogers."

-

Steve broke a few speed limits getting home, but leaving Bucky alone while he was like this set his teeth on edge, no matter how necessary it was.

Once again, he entered the house silently, clutching his acquisitions to his chest as he toed off his shoes. The house smelled of bleach, lemon pledge, and lilac carpet deodorizing powder. Bucky had been busy.

The sound of an aerosol can could be heard from Steve's home office, so Steve quickly snuck past and up the stairs. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the master bathroom hadn't been scrubbed yet; there were still toothpaste speckles on the mirror, water marks on the faucets, and the chrome pieces of the bathtub and shower didn't have that blinding shine.

He quickly began setting everything up. Lavender bubble bath for tub, vanilla whipped lotion, and little sugar and tangerine candles on the countertops and bath rim. The sushi was carefully floated in a sink full of cold water and the cinnamon rolls were set aside for later. Steve then stripped down to his boxers and headed back downstairs.

Now came the hard part.

-

Breaking Bucky out of his cycle was never easy, and never pretty. Steve'd had to call Nat the first time it happened at his house, and had to physically step away as things got heated between the two, words ripping and snapping and cutting back and forth as Natasha got James angry enough to forget he was bottling everything up and screaming his problems at the top of his lungs.

Bucky's guilt hadn't abated for three days.

Now, Steve could never do that. Felt sick at the very thought. He never wanted to make Bucky upset or angry for any reason. Would rather cut of his own arm.

So he figured out his own way.

-

Bucky was still in Steve’s office, wiping down the bookshelves with a rag that smelled of lemon and chemicals. Steve didn't stop walking, even as he took in the sweat soaked tank-top, the lank hair, and chemically chapped hands.

He merely grabbed Bucky's shoulder, spun him around, and muffled any and all complaints with a devouring kiss.

He never broke the kiss as he shoved the headphones and bandanna off Bucky's head, untied the drawstring of his sweatpants, and hefted the smaller man into his arms, turning and quickly making his way back upstairs.

Bucky tried to turn away from the kiss, tried to struggle out of Steve's arms, muffled noises of anger bursting out his nose. His fists thumped in Steve's shoulders, but as soon as the blond started up the stairs, he quieted, not wanting to actually cause either of them to fall.

But he didn't actually quit fighting until the gentle scents of the candles and bubble bath reached him. All at once, he went limp in Steve's arms, breath starting to grow unsteady. He knew what those smells meant.

"I don't wanna hear you say you're sorry," Steve murmured into his sweaty hair. "I wanna hear what's bothering you, and if you need my help in fixing any of it. Okay?"

Bucky's voice was soft and broken, "Yes, Daddy."

-

Over then next hour and a half, Bucky spoke of the issues with his thesis, the health scare his toddler nephew had gone through, dealing with apathetic professors, not being able to find time to hang out with his friends, missing his parents, and other small complaints and problems that just made the big ones seem all that much bigger.

And Steve listened. As he washed Bucky's hair, rubbed lotion into his chapped hands, fed him sushi, and cradled him in his arms as the floral bathwater encompassed them, he listened, and spoke when asked, and held his boy close.

Afterwards, as they ate warm cinnamon rolls while wearing fluffy bathrobes in the middle of their unmade bed, they came up with solutions and plans and compromises.

As the last crumbs were brushed away, they wrapped around each other, kisses tasting like icing and souls feeling scoured clean. It stung a little, yes, but it was a good sensation.

"Thank you," Bucky whispered into the hollow of Steve's throat.

Steve just pressed his lips to the top of Bucky's head and held him tighter.

When they finally got up, the scent of bleach had long faded away.

RE8 Ladies + S/o with chronic pain HCs

Type/cause of chronic pain is kept ambiguous, but some of the hcs might seem geared towards migraines, since that's the main thing that I personally struggle with (and these are very definitely comfort hcs). Features Alcina, Bela, Cassandra, Daniela, Donna, Mother Miranda, and as a 'lil bonus Ava. Not particularly long, but the combined length of every character is enough to be put under a read-more (About 2,500 words in total).

Alcina:

It’s difficult for her to know that you are suffering, but be unable to deal directly with the source of the problem. Chasing off unwanted nuisances or hunting down threats to the castle was one thing, trying to solve complicated medical issues was another thing entirely. If only she could tear your condition asunder without tearing you asunder.

That being said, she’ll still support you endlessly, however she can. It doesn’t matter how expensive or hard-to-access possible treatments are. If there’s something you haven’t tried, and are interested in trying, she’ll find a way for you to get it.

The biggest, and arguably most helpful, thing that she does is set up a space for you within her office. She spends quite a lot of time there for her family’s business, but doesn’t want to leave you alone on bad days. So this was her idea of a nice compromise.

There’s a very comfortable sofa that folds out, a cabinet filled with the softest blankets, and several pillows of a few different sizes. Servants are instructed not to interrupt Alcina’s work without good reason, but she has a couple who ensure your snack cabinet is always well stocked.

If there are certain environmental factors to your condition, such as sensitivity to light and sound, she does her best to reduce their effects. Lights remain dimmed (or she’ll rely on candlelight), her music will be kept quiet enough to be soothing, and she’ll refrain from taking any calls while you are with her.

Bela:

To think that Daniela once tried to claim that Bela would “never need to know any of that (medical) stuff”! Sure, there haven’t been many people who have needed (and received) treatment from her, but that didn’t mean the skill was useless. Admittedly, she doesn’t know enough to replace one of your doctors, or try to create her own version of a cure, though no one really expected that much from her.

Still, she knows enough to help soothe your pain. Obviously there are different techniques for different kinds of pain, and she does research before trying anything specific. Bela’s also aware that you’ve been dealing with this for far longer than she has, meaning that you probably wouldn’t be pleased if she came in, acted like an expert, or assumed that you hadn’t really thought about the most popular remedies. So she’s tactful with how she approaches things, always checking if you’re familiar with a subject before she tries to explain anything.

Bela ends up surprising you with a lesser-known skill of hers: Massage. Studying anatomy has given her a decent idea of the body’s more sensitive spots, and the rest she’s figured out through her own, ahem, experiences. Regardless of where you’re in pain, your girlfriend can help reduce your suffering. Okay, well, if your pain is more internal than external, it’s a bit harder for her, but she can still help you relax.

One of her favorite things to do after giving you a massage is to just pull you in close for some cuddling. Preferably you’ll be in her lap, with her arms around your waist, her chin tucked on top of your shoulder. Then she’ll do her best to whisper you praises, reminding you how strong you are, and that she’s incredibly proud of you.

Cassandra:

She’s, uh, not great at this. At least not at first. Maybe she’ll never be more than good at it, though. But she’s definitely trying! And learning! By Jove, that’s something, right?

First things first, she’s always ready to try to distract you, primarily through kisses and gentle touches. Fingers softly trailing over your skin, lips tickling your neck, featherlight in all the right places… It’s not inherently sexual (though it can quickly go that route if you ask), just intimate. It’s harder for your brain to process pain when you’re also processing pleasure, so there is some science behind Cassandra’s methods, even if she herself isn’t entirely aware of that.

While she’s not great with words, there are certain things that she manages to articulate well enough. For one, she makes sure you know that you aren’t a burden. Taking care of you- no, helping you take care of yourself- is a labor of love, if a labor at all. More than that, she knows full well that you probably don’t like feeling pitied, or coddled. That, over time, being sick ends up being beyond frustrating. She never wants you to feel like your condition defines you, or like it puts any strain on your relationship.

That said, she’ll avoid telling her family any specifics unless you do first, and ensures that the staff know how to accommodate you (without telling them why, because it’s none of their fucking business, and she’s their boss, and for fuck’s sake it’s their job to do what she tells them. Maybe she gets a lil bit overzealous with it). At no point will she ever complain about helping you, or otherwise indicate that your needs are “troublesome”.

At the end of the day, the best comfort she brings you is her presence, simply being near you, endlessly loyal, tireless in her affections. Especially considering she gets clingier the worse your symptoms get.

Daniela:

Hope you enjoy cuddling. Seriously. There’s nothing Daniela loves more than curling up with you, and that goes double for bad pain days. Some adjustments will be made position-wise if you need, but she’ll still hold you as close as possible, for as long as you need. Although she might eventually fall asleep (because damn are you comfy), she’ll play with your hair or run her fingers along your scalp until she eventually dozes off.

If you want a little more from her than light snoring, or if she feels like going above and beyond, or honestly just if she’s thinking about how much she loves you (so all the effing time), she’ll do something she’s always loved in movies/books: Reading to you! She’ll pick special books that neither of you have read before, so you can experience them together on your sick(er) days. Which does, of course, mean that it might take months to finish even a single one. Surprisingly, Daniela won’t even briefly consider reading any without you. Even if the plot is really good.

But, uh, if you wanted her to read to you on a day where you aren’t bedridden? Hell yes, my friend, she’s absolutely down for that!

On days where she’s too busy to spend hours upon hours in bed with you, or days where her ADHD is just particularly bad, she tries her best to leave you with a “substitute”. AKA a massive fucking teddy bear, in a reddish brown color, with a green bowtie. Custom ordered (The Duke did not dare tease her for it). There’s a heart stitched onto the stuffed animal’s chest, which features your first initial alongside a D for Daniela.

Additionally, she has a blanket she only brings out for you, which she periodically sprays with her favorite perfume. That way you can hold it close when she’s not around, as if you were cuddling her. For her sake, though, don’t hold the teddy bear or blanket too tightly when she is around. Homegirl here will get jealous of inanimate objects, even ones that she gave you.

Donna:

“I think I have a tea for this…” Damn right she has a tea for this. Donna has a massive garden, with dozens if not hundreds of different plants, including a variety of herbs/spices. At least one of them has to be a little helpful for you. Whether it relieves pain, helps you nap off some of your misery, or just distracts you by tasting bloody-well delicious! Besides, few things make you feel quite as loved as holding a cup of freshly brewed tea in your hands, knowing your lover made it just for you. Like a hug in a mug, it is!

Similarly to Alcina, Donna will also try to create a comfortable space for you, but isn’t likely to put it downstairs with her workshop. Instead she’ll let you take over one of the larger guest rooms, customizing it to suit your specific needs. There will be some easy to care for plants for decoration (ones that won’t mind potentially missing out on natural sunlight), a couple relaxing paintings, and a shelf near the bed with things to help you pass the time, mainly books.

Furthermore, she’ll do her best to keep you company as often as possible. She’s naturally a fairly quiet person, so you won’t have to worry about sound if that’s something you’re sensitive to. While she prefers using a sewing machine, she’ll do things by hand while you’re in pain, just to reduce the chances of you getting irritated by the sound.

Speaking of potentially irritating sounds… by god can Angie be difficult to be around when you’re ill. Thankfully, Donna is perfectly understanding of this, and, as the only person Angie ever listens to, makes sure to give the doll a stern talking to about your health. To your immense surprise, it actually works. You’re not exactly sure what was said, but Angie certainly becomes a lot more compensating afterwards. She’ll keep her antics to herself, and usually even on another side of the house from where you rest, but only for as long as you’re tucked away in your room. As soon as you set foot outside, her restraints are metaphorically removed. All hell breaks loose (as is her universe-given right as the physical embodiment of both Chaos and Entropy).

Mother Miranda:

If the two of you weren’t lovers, there’s a decent chance you would completely misinterpret her actions. She might come off as irritated, like she has bigger concerns than your health, you fragile little human. After all, she is a goddess (well, practically). But the truth is that she’s aching inside every time you have a bad pain day, knowing that (for once) she cannot cure your ailment. Maybe if she had infinite subjects with the same condition as you…

But, at the end of the day, that’s the problem. There’s only one of you. One of her beloved, her little human darling, so dangerously fragile in comparison to the scale she works on. Even with all the time in the world, which she most certainly has, she cannot cure you without taking incredible risks. With your life at stake… It is a gamble she refuses to take. You are hers, and while she hates to see you suffer, the truth is that she’ll always be selfish enough to let you endure on your own.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t help, though, just that she doesn't do a full-out experiment on you. Instead, she keeps notes. She’ll track your activities, bedtimes/when you get up, dietary habits, when you have pain, what you do to treat said pain, how effective the treatments are, etc, etc. All of this can be very useful in establishing patterns (a skill she’s gotten very good at, in her many decades of being a scientist), which can in turn lead to less pain days.

(For example, many people with migraines find that certain foods seem to trigger a migraine, or at least increase the chances of getting one. Though admittedly they don’t always end up cutting the food out of their diet. I mean, come on, you want me to give up chocolate? You want me to drink normal milk, like an adult? Kidding, kidding, I don’t have any food triggers. Nor do I particularly enjoy chocolate milk, nor do I dislike it.)

Moving on! While her work seemingly takes precedence over your condition, Miranda is not heartless, and she does do some things to lend you more direct comfort. Specifically, she tries to work in the same room as you when she can, normally while making electronic copies of physical documents, or while looking over the details of a finished experiment. She’s not always one for cuddling, so she won’t often get in bed with you during the daytime. But at night? Yes, fine, she will wrap her arms around you, maybe one of her wings too if you like how soft they are.

Just don’t think that she secretly loves every second. It’s not like she’ll spend half an hour whispering about how sweet and adorable you are as soon as you fall asleep, or anything like that. It’s twenty minutes at the most.

Bonus!Avaskian Caldwell:

“Oh, fuckin’ mood!” Followed by a solid thirty seconds of pure regret. Seriously, though, Ava has spent xer entire life (starting at age 10) dealing with chronic migraines. For a while xe also dealt with POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), which meant lots of chest pain, but that (thankfully) faded as xe grew into an adult, as is fairly common with the condition. If anyone in Castle Dimitrescu understands unrelenting, unexplainable pain, it’s xer.

That being said… Ava never really managed xer chronic pain, at least not when xe was at xer worst. Xe had to drop out of school because of it. Hell, xe didn’t have a “real” job until xe was almost 23! Didn’t have a chance until things just calmed down for xer. So xe gets anxious whenever you talk about your health, worried that things are (or will at some point be) as bad for you as they were for xer. Other than that, though, you might initially think that xe doesn’t care, or didn’t understand the conversation.

Truth is, xe knows how absolutely fucking ANNOYING it can be to have to explain your health to every new person you meet (like the dozen different doctors you’ve met over the years, possibly every nurse who takes your pulse and thinks it’s a little bit high). So xe did a shit ton of research on your condition, in order to reduce how much you need to explain. Sure, xe will still have questions, and there are always aspects that only you can tell xer, but it’s a nice gesture.

As for helping you destress, xe’s pretty much a mix of Bela and Miranda. You’ll get plenty of massages (because Ava has learned from personal experience what sort of touches help with which sorts of pain), but also some scientific insight on any noticeable patterns. Lots of holding you close and telling you that you’re the coolest person in the world, and that Ava feels beyond lucky to have you.

Paying For It - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

Dom Fred Weasley x Sub Fem Reader

About: During the Yule Ball, Fred notices a student from Durmstrang watching his girlfriend throughout the evening, when Fred goes away to get a drink, the student approaches Y/N and asks her for a dance. Fred is furious and jealous, and Y/N will pay for it.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Dom/Sub, daddy-kink, breeding-kink, male receiving oral, rough-sex, female receiving oral, fingering, swearing, outdoor, unprotected rough sex, bulging.

Prompts:

103: "Look at me when I'm fucking talking to you, you pathetic slut."

106: "Be careful," he warned you, fucking you faster "you know how bad I want to knock you up."

107: "Be a good girl" he growled "or daddy will have to punish you."

109: "You look so gorgeous staring up at me with those big tear-filled eyes, your throat full of my cock."

You were having the time of your life, being on Fred's arm in a stunning dress with your hair and makeup done, enjoying the band and being able to let loose with your boyfriend.

You still couldn't believe you were dating, that he even asked you to the ball - you spent the first two years of Hogwarts hating each other, trying to hide your real feelings.

"You look bloody stunning," Fred smiled, dancing to the upbeat music.

You blushed and danced along, your feet starting to hurt from breaking into your heels.

"Thank you," you shouted above the music "you look rather handsome, Freddie."

Fred rolled his eyes and pulled a face, pouting and pretending to be flattered, you slapped his shoulder playfully and giggled. Fred laughed along but stopped, he stared behind you and his face fell and hardened like stone.

"What's wrong?" you asked, "you haven't spiked the drinks bowl with those trial pastilles have you?!"

Fred shook his head "No, I haven't."

You furrowed your brows and stopped dancing "So, what is it?"

Fred focused back on you "Nothing, it doesn't matter." He didn't want to ruin your night.

But it wasn't just nothing. Fred noticed that throughout the evening, one of the lads from Durmstrang had been eyeing you up - practically undressing you with his eyes - and Fred hated it.

When Durmstrang arrived at Hogwarts, the lads were amazed and the women were starstruck - Fred worried that their skills would gain your attention - but you weren't wowed, you were more interested in Fred plans for the future.

Your interest in Fred and devotion to him didn't stop the student from staring at you, and most likely talking about you to Victor - and Fred could only grip you by the waist so many times to try and get the message across.

Fred pulled you closer, slow dancing with you despite the high energy song and the crowd jumping.

He could feel the jealousy inside of him brewing, he needed to get back on the quidditch pitch soon or he might end up snapping. You could sense that Fred was in distress, but you didn't press further, you knew it wouldn't help the situation.

Fred sighed, his mouth dry as a bone, looking at the table next to him, all the cups and glasses were empty.

"Fancy a drink, love?" he asked "I'm dying for one."

You nodded your head, you too needed a drink after all the shouting over the music.

"Please! Thanks, Freddie." You smiled.

Fred left you on your own, grumbling under his breath, trying to keep calm and reassure himself that the Durmstrang student wasn't a threat, that you were truly his.

Taking a seat at one of the tables, you watched Angelina and George dancing - unable to stop your smiling, until Ron stormed past in his dress robes - you burst out laughing and slapped your hand over your mouth, not wanting him to hear you and be embarrassed.

"Miss Y/L/N," an unfamiliar voice called out.

You turned your face and stared up at the lad dressed from head to toe in red velvet and fur, you had noticed him when messing around with Fred in the Great Hall and in the stands at the first event, you were hoping he had Krums autograph for you to give to Ron.

"Hello," you replied, feeling slightly awkward "are you alright?"

Fred turned around, two cups in his hand filled with juice, he dropped one to the floor, spilling it over his shoes at the sight of the student chatting you up. He lifted his cup to his lips, downing the liquid and tossing it, marching over towards you.

How dare he! Bloody waiting for me to leave so he could swoop in on her!

"Uh, I have a boyfriend, sorry-" you rejected him, your cheeks heating up and flushing pink.

Fred pushed in front of you, glaring at him "After something?" he asked, his voice unkind.

The tall and muscular student shook his head, unphased by Fred's arrival and walked off without a word.

"What did he want?" Fred asked frantically, his feet getting itchy.

You sighed, "Nothing-"

Fred pulled you up from your seat and escorted you out of the castle, breaking you out into the cold, dark, and snowy evening.

"Fred, slow down, please!" you huffed, getting out of breath.

"What did he want!" Fred pulled you behind the shrubbery, knowing if you were to get caught, your evening would be ruined.

You sighed, "He asked me for a dance, Fred, nothing more."

"He's been staring at you all evening and the one time I leave he swoops in on you like that!"

"Fred, keep your voice down!" You hissed.

"You're gonna pay for this, love!" Fred hissed back, flipping you and holding you down against the snow, your back freezing.

"Fred! What are you-" You giggled and whining against the cold.

Fred bit his lip, trying not to admit he was jealous.

You opened your mouth and raised your eyebrows "Fredrick Gideon Weasley, are you jealous!"

You grinned and Fred put his hand over your mouth.

"Be a good girl" he growled "or daddy will have to punish you."

Your heart skipped a beat, you and Fred rarely had sex or engaged in any sexual activity as of recent - you were too busy placing bets with the tournament and planning products for the joke shop.

Truth be told, you were liking the direction this was going - Fred being jealous, taking control.

You smirked and licked your bottom lip, the snow dampening your dress and hair.

"Oh really?" your voice low "Prove it."

Fred's erection was poking through his trousers, he unbuttoned them and yanked down his zip, his trousers falling to his ankles, pulling down his boxers, his erection slapped against his lower stomach.

"Don't just lay there," Fred stared at you, pumping his length "open up."

Getting on your knees, pushing them into the snow, you opened your mouth and looked up at Fred standing over you, looked down on you.

Fred grabbed the back of your head and fed you his cock, using his hand to bob your head, your saliva coated his length, making it easier to slide down your throat, making you gag and your eyes tear up.

Fred hung his head back and moaned softly, part of him hoped that the Durmstrang student would somehow go for a walk and come across you pleasuring him - anything to make it clear that you belonged to Fred and no one else, the thought of someone else wanting you made Fred take control, face fucking you.

The sound of you gagging and Fred fucking your face made you wet, and also made this whole experience exciting - would you get caught? would you get away with it? You didn't know but the possibilities were exciting.

"You look so gorgeous staring up at me with those big tear-filled eyes, your throat full of my cock." Fred groaned, his face stroking your bulging cheek.

Ignoring Fred, you hummed and sucked lazily, wanting to annoy him.

"Look at me when I'm fucking talking to you, you pathetic slut."

It worked.

You started to laugh and stopped sucking, pulling away from his length, your saliva pooling out of your mouth and dripping down your chin.

"What's so funny?" Fred asked, an annoyed expression forming on his face.

You shrugged, feeling daring "I'm missing a dance, for this."

Fred's eyes widened and he pulled you up, grabbing you by the waist and bending you over.

You giggled, doing your best to lift up your dress as Fred pulled down your knickers, the cold air attacking your exposed clit. He kicked your legs apart, spitting on his fingers and spreading his saliva in between your folds before using his tongue, circling it around your entrance hole.

Your moans spilt from your mouth at the feeling of Fred's warm tongue swimming whilst his fingers stimulated your clit, pulling away, Fred's lubricated length lined up against your entrance.

"Don't be too loud, now," he warned you, pushing his length deep inside you.

"Fuck," you moaned softly, adjusting to the feeling of being stretched out and filled up.

Fred's hands held onto your waist as he started to buck his hips, thrusting inside of you, deeper and deeper, taking out his feelings on your cunt.

"I wonder," you panted "if it would just be a dance for him-"

Fred fucked you harder, gritting his teeth, his fingers digging into you.

"It's strange," you continued "everyone knows I'm yours but he doesn't seem to understand."

"Be careful," he warned you, fucking you faster "you know how bad I want to knock you up."

"Maybe you should," you sighed, trying your best not to grin.

Fred stopped for a moment, catching his breath before gripping you by the hair, pounding you with his length.

"Is that what you want? To be filled with my seed? For everyone to know that I've fucked you senseless."

You couldn't stop yourself from moaning out in pleasure, you had to cover your mouth to muffle the noise, even the slapping was loud enough - how you hadn't already been caught, you didn't know.

"I want it just as much as you do, daddy."

Fred could no longer control himself, the idea and thought of everyone knowing he fucked you made him closer to cumming inside of you - your stomach started to tense up, your legs shaking, you could feel yourself release - your cum coating him.

"That's it," Fred panted, "fucking cum!"

Fred's lips, like yours, were bright red from the biting and the cold air, your walls strangled him, and as he twitched, he came inside of you, holding you close to him, his face getting lost in your tangled hair.

"I told you, you would pay for it," he panted, planting a kiss on your neck.

"I'm glad I did," you replied "No one else I'd rather be with, Freddie."

taglist: @horrorxweasley @rreeaahh @inglourious-imagines @onlyfreds @xmalfoyweasleyx @scorpireads @themoonis-beautiful-tonight @enya-2004 @nimueh-lacus @youralternantpersonality @pottahishotasf @supermassiveblackhope 

Father Figure - Disappointed

Prelude - I get so many asks about the same thing and so I put them at the bottom lol otherwise this would be so long. Also I combined them, RIP sorry pals I suck. Anyways, remember guys, bad people exist. If someone is hurting you or you suspect someone you know is being hurt, please talk to someone, please don’t let yourself settle into “This is normal, this is fine”. It’s not normal, and it’s not fine. The national sexual assault hotline in America is 1-800-656-4673 and it’s from a organization called RAINN.

https://www.rainn.org

They have a chat service too, if you prefer texting over calling.

Please stay safe y’all

Pairing - Stepdad! Aizawa X Reader

Warnings - Pseudo incest, manipulation, power dynamics, NSFW, noncon, dubcon, mentions of unsafe sex, slight degradation. Belittling, controlling Aizawa.

Music -  https://open.spotify.com/track/5nHTLEJ10zaqdnKqLriah4?si=Bs0su-fBRxWoE3jefCdPIA

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Why? Why, huh? Do I not provide you with very little thing you need, anything you could ever want?”

You dip your head in shame, sock-clad feet rubbing against each other nervously. “I just wanted to-“

“To disappoint me, yes, you’ve done that very well.” Aizawa’s tone is harsh, incensed. “I catch you trying to sneak out again, and all you can do is offer excuses.”

Biting your lip, you spread your hands quickly, trying to appease him. “I was just going to get you a present! For-for your birthday!”

A weak excuse, one that neither of you bought.  Aizawa stood up from the couch, shaking his head.

“My birthday isn’t for another couple of weeks and you know it. Plus, we both know that you’ll be the only present I unwrap on my birthday.”

The sordid promise made your heart drop, tensing up as your stepdad came closer and closer, until he stood in front of you. Tall, imposing, irritated.

“I’m sorry….” You manage, staring down at your feet. It’s too intimidating to try and meet his gaze, those light grey eyes that fill you with fear and guilt.

“I’m sure you are. How are you going to make it up to me?” And there it was, the always-dreaded initiation. You often wondered how Aizawa would be like with a woman his age, someone willing and eager to please him. Would he force them like this?

A minute stretched by while your mind worked, trying desperately to think of some other way to soothe his ire. Every time you undressed for him, every time he touched your body, every time you were forced to touch him made you feel dirty, tainted, disgusting.

Damaged goods.

“I can choose-“

“No!” You cried, head snapping up, fingers flying to his shirt to fist in the soft fabric before you remembered yourself. “I mean, no Dad, I’ll make it up to you.”

The words felt vile in your mouth, like poison. But of your two options, having the slightest bit of control over the situation was preferable. Whenever your stepdad chose some way for you to show that you were sorry, it hurt. He’d introduced you to anal, forcing you to take his thick fingers deep, stretching you out with various plugs and toys, drizzling more and more lube into your hole until you were loose enough to take him.

This way, you could avoid his painful favorite.

Taking a deep breath, you steered him back to the couch, and the man sat, looking up at you expectantly.

You dropped to your knees, spreading his thighs with your hands, the limbs giving way easily. The waistband of his sweats was pulled down easily, your fingers hooking into his briefs to pull them down as well.

He was already hard.

“C’mon, don’t make me wait.” Your stepdad urged, one hand coming to lace through your hair, loosely gripping the aback of your head. You suppose it could be taken as a reassuring gesture, but you knew what it really was; a threat.

You kept your face neutral as you kissed the mushroom tip, a bead of precum wetting your lips. You’d earned quickly that making any sort of face at the sight, smell, or feel of Aizawa’s dick would be met with swift punishment. He’d shove his cock down your throat and keep it there until your legs went numb, until tears pricked at your eyes.

And you’d still have to suck him off afterwards.

So you kept your face relaxed, slowly licking along the length, fondling his balls, kissing the base of his cock noisily.

A long lick from the base to the tip before you took him in your mouth, tucking your teeth behind your lips. Your tongue took over now, swirling around the head, laving broad strips against the very tip, swiping the precum away on each lick.

Raising your eyes to gauge his reaction was a mistake, Aizawa staring down at you with a hooded gaze, relaxing back into the couch.

“Make it up to me.”

You sucked, hard, swallowing around his dick as you eased it towards the back of your throat. You had to build up to deepthroating, still had trouble with it and your gag reflex, but your stepdad was a diligent teacher.

He was holding himself back, thighs flexing aside your head as he stopped himself from thrusting up into your mouth, from hunching over and using you like a toy, making you gag and sob and drool around his length. Aizawa wanted you to do all the work, wanted you to show him how sorry you really were by making him cum.

Moving your head faster, you bobbed on his length, cringing internally as drool slipped down your chin, towards your chest. You hated when it got messy.

Aizawa placed his other hand against your cheek, stroking the side of your face, but you could tell that he was really feeling for the outline of his cock in your mouth, thick, stocky fingers pressing insistently.

You made a little noise of protest, quickly trying to morph it into a moan, pulling off of him to catch your breath. Your hands twisted around his length, stimulating him in place of your mouth while you breathed, sloppy, slick sounds being heard each time your fist met his pelvis.

“Do it like I taught you.” Were his next instructions, Aizawa obviously getting bored by your hand job. You wanted to kick, and scream, and cry, maybe bite his dick off.

But he’d trained you well.

So you took a deep breath before plunging back down again, moving your head enthusiastically as you throat-fucked yourself, willing your gag reflex to stay calm.

It was only when you felt his dick slip into your throat did your stepdad start to make noise, groaning a little bit as he fisted his hand further into your hair. He was subtly guiding you with the hand, forward and back, forward and back, but letting you move about freely.

After all, you were supposed to be apologizing.

“That’s it, just like that.”

His orgasm built up slowly, cock twitching inside your mouth as you worked him higher and higher, hands playing with the length of his cock that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You had to pull off once more to breath, chest heaving, desperately trying to jerk him to completion while his length wasn’t lodged in your mouth.

No such luck.

He came in your mouth, hips bucking a little as he released his milky seed. You squeezed your eyes shut, clenching your fists as you willed yourself not to recoil, not to get sick, not to make a face or do anything else to earn Aizawa’s anger.

You swallowed it down without a fuss, hating yourself for every second you spent being compliant.

But what else could you do?

Cock softening against his thigh, you tucked him back into his sweatpants, leaning your face against his leg to rest for a second.

Your stomach felt warm, full. It made you so sick.

“That was good, you’re learning.” Even his praise was clinical, almost detached. You hated him.

“I’m still upset with you though.”

The admission made you lift your head, turning to your stepfather with a quizzical expression, hurt, feeling betrayed.

“But dad, I just-I got you off? Isn’t that enough?” You wanted to add a “please”, beg for him to say yes, that all is forgiven, that he wasn’t mad anymore, that he wasn’t going to hurt you, or make you do anything else.

Aizawa tutted. “It’s enough when I say it is, and you messed up big time. You think a measly little blowjob makes up for all the shit you’ve tried to pull today? I don’t think so.”

“But, wasn’t it-didn’t I do good? I thought-“

“It was nice, you’re getting the hang of how to move your tongue. But I think there should be a little more effort put into your apology.”

You wanted to cry. This wasn’t fair, you had done enough already, wasn’t he satisfied? Why was he like this, so creepy and gross? Why couldn’t you have had a normal stepfather, who treated you like a normal person, who didn’t rip away your autonomy and freedom.

Aizawa could tell you weren’t fond of having to continue, but he wasn’t fond of your behavior.

A sudden jerk from the hand in your hair had you gasping in pain, Aizawa leaning over as he pulled you towards him. Your hands grabbed for his wrists, but he was already talking, anger swimming in those grey eyes of his.

“I’m being lenient with you. Do you understand how awful you’ve been these past few weeks? You’re pathetic. You think I wouldn’t catch you trying to sneak out the back door? You think I wouldn’t notice the hickies on your neck after you come home from “hanging out” with your girls?”

Your blood ran ice cold, draining out of your face. You thought you had told your (tentative, maybe) boyfriend to not leave any marks, that your dad would notice, that you’d get in trouble. You though you’d gotten away with that little secret, with the fact that you’ve been seeing someone every time you tell your dad you’re just chilling with friends.

Trying to sneak out the back door had been dumb, but you had felt desperate, upset, detested by your life. Hating the daily routine of being assaulted by your stepdad, being forced to be obedient and docile and cater to his lecherous whims.

Spread your legs when he asks, suck him off under the table when he tells you to, keep the bathroom door unlocked when you take a shower, in the off chance that he’d like to join you.

Not being able to tell anyone, caring the burden of shame and regret like heavy weights on your back.

Having to kiss him on the mouth, feel his stubble burning your cheeks, the sensitive skin of your thighs when he felt particularly giving.

His daily “lessons” almost always made you cry, either his harsh words or his insistence that you learn how to please him, it was only your natural role.

A daughter should always do her best to please her daddy.

Even just a night of freedom away from his grasp was welcomed, savored as a treat. You just needed to get away, but even that was asking too much.

“So-“ Aizawa released you, and you immediately rubbed at your stinging scalp. “What do you think I should do?”

“I-I wanna go to bed.” You mumbled, eyes darting wildly around the room, focusing anywhere except the dark-haired man in front of you.

“Oh? I didn’t expect you to be so forward about that.” He taunted, leaning forward onto his knees, lacing his fingers together with a mean smirk.

“No, I want to sleep….. please.” You knew that Aizawa had intentionally misunderstood you, intent on making you plead with him for simple mercies like sleep.

Aizawa sighed, rising to his feet. You scrambled to your feet also, feeling too small and weak kneeling on the floor underneath him like that. Still, he towered over you, running a lazy hand through his dark locks as he regarded you.

“I can’t just let you go unpunished, what kind of father would I be? Letting you lie and sneak around behind my back like this. Your daddy is supposed to care for you. I’d never neglect you.”

You wish he would.

“I learned my lesson dad, I swear. I won’t sneak out, I’ll-I’ll stay home and have my friends over instead of going out! Anything, just-just not……”

Not whatever he had planned for the rest of the night.

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temples as he circled a hand around your arm, beginning to lead you towards his bedroom down the hall. You wanted to balk, but knew that doing so would only worsen your punishment.

“Thats a start, and we’ll do that moving forward. But you won’t be getting out of a punishment. Offering compromises and begging won’t get you anywhere, even if you do sound sweet.”

Pulling you into his bedroom, your stepdad let go of your arm, closing the door behind you. He moved to turn on a lamp by the bedside, turning off the overhead light so the room was cast in a low, yellow glow.

“Strip, then on the bed.”

You trembled as you slowly shucked off your clothes, Aizawa beginning to do the same, his eyes fixed on you the entire time.

But that was normal.

Aizawa was a fit man, able to manhandle you and pin you down, keep you still with the muscles hiding under his skin. But he was a father, and older, his body taking on the characteristics of someone who enjoyed life.

His thighs were thick, his abdomen sturdy. He wasn’t out of shape by any means, but his muscles were overplayed with a nice layer of fat. He looked like a bear, with the dark hair on his chest, his thick limbs, his solid frame.

But the man wasn’t shy, and by the time you had stripped down to your panties he was completely nude, pink cock soft against his thigh.

“Dad, I really don’t want to do-“

“I don’t care. Get on the bed.”

You bit your lip, staying still. “Please, please, I said I’m sorry-“

Within a second, Aizawa’s hand was around your throat, his eyes blazing as he shoved you against the wall.  

“This is what’s going to happen.” His voice was raspy, grinding out past his clenched teeth as he invaded your space. “You’re going to do as I say and get on the bed, or else I’ll use my belt on you until you bleed. Once you’re on the bed, you’re going to lay nice and pretty for daddy while I get everything ready. I got a candle to play with, and a couple of toys, and daddy wants to see how well they makes you moan for me.”

You were shivering, fingers scrabbling at the hand squeezing your airway, still allowing you to breath, but just barely.

“You’re gonna get all fucked out and stupid, ’n then I’m gonna bounce you on my cock until I’m satisfied, got it?” The man continued, his nose almost touching yours “Then you’re gonna wear a plug all night, and all tomorrow morning. I get to have you whenever I want, and you won’t complain or else I’ll cum inside, alright?”

Nodding your head, you felt tears rising. You had to do what Aizawa said though, you couldn’t take the risk of having the man cum inside.

“I’ll decide a better way to continue your punishment tomorrow, when I’m not as upset with you. Maybe by then you’ll figure out how to listen to daddy.”

When the man released your throat, you gasped, coughing a bit as you sucked in oxygen. Aizawa was already pushing you towards the bed, eyes trained on your figure.

The new knowledge that this wouldn’t even be the brunt of your punishment was devastating, and you felt your chest tighten up as you struggled not to cry. Crying would only get him to mock you.

All you could do was comply.

“I need you to remember-“ Your step dad catches you by the wrist, tilts your chin with a finger so he can stare into your eyes. “You’re mine.”

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

Saw latest batem ask: ask funny as that was, imagine how badley the batfam, epically Jason, reacts when they find out Em's meeting with the Joker was alone. Yes she's a good at her work, but she's still new and he's the FUCKING JOKER!

(Sorry this one took so long, the pandaman has made lazy beasts of us all in some way.) -Yellow

Emerald rode her bike into the cave without a word, trying to hold a neutral expression as if tonight's patrol didn't have anything out of the ordinary occur. Bruce was always wrapped up in investigating some new evidence for whatever case was most current, or else sweeping the rooftops longer than he ever expected his partners to, so she figured she wouldn't be getting many prying questions from him. It had been hard enough convincing Oracle not to report her "encounter" to Batman, because of course Barbara heard the whole thing and was panicked as hell. Em had to promise she would explain it herself, and if the interaction in question was anything to go by she can clearly take care of herself.

So imagine her surprise when she found the cave occupied by not just Bruce, but Dick, Tim, Jason and Damian as well. This could be way more of a problem... Still, she pressed on and tried to briskly walk past the five males to go stow her suit and get into more comfortable clothes. She should have known better by now.

Bruce: Emerald!

Em: *tensing up* Yeah, Bruce?

Bruce: A report, if you don't mind? You came back from patrol almost perfectly on time, so I presume there was nothing major that waylaid you from doing your assigned rounds of the ports and commercial districts?

Em: Ah, yeah that's pretty much spot on. Some punk with a green and purple moth suit was trying to rob a jewelers through the skylight, so I whupped his ass and tied him to a streetlight. Heard people talking about seeing some crazy sea creature by the wharf, so I thought Croc was in town, but it was a shark Grimm. Hit it with the spray, then I shot in the black soulless eyes...

Dick: Damn, she's picking up the brooding lingo like a champ.

Em: Real funny, Nightstick. Which reminds me, what the Brothers are all of you doing here? The other Kingdoms are probably missing their favorite vigilantes...

Bruce: I called them in. Joker's on the loose, and we need all hands on deck to deal with his latest threat. *He taps a key on the Batcomputer keyboard and pulls up a handheld video of the Vale skyline with the Joker talking over it as he pans across the rooftops.

Joker: Ah, the peaceful Kingdom of Vale. So quaint, so lively, so earnest... so overrated!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!!! I think we need a few more smiles on all these pretty faces, don't you? So Uncle J is gonna help out! In 12 hours, a dirty dozen gas bombs will go off and fill the city with my patented happy gas, unless our favorite flying rat can find and disarm them all in time. And hey, I'll even let you bring the kiddies along to help daddy Bat! Good luuuuuuuck~

Tim: We can see the time on the clocktower in the background of his sweeping shot, so we know this was recorded 4 hours ago. I know it's a lot to ask, Em, but we may need you back out there to help track down the bombs in time.

Jason: Are you kidding me? I know she's already on par with most of us, but she's never had to deal with the clown before. We shouldn't send her into that unless it's totally necessary, especially if she'd be doing this 1v1. I don't need to remind y'all that he won't hesitate to go ballistic on any of our asses if given the chance.

Dick: All the same, we also need to track down Joker himself and lock him up again. The more eyes we have out there the better, and if anyone does see him they can call the rest in.

Damian: What we need is a more recent sighting to tell us where to start looking...

Em: Oh... I fought him like half an hour ago.

Bruce stopped still and looked over his shoulder. The boys all blinked owlishly at her, Tim dropping his coffee cup. In an instant she was suddenly surrounded, Tim shining a flashlight in her eyes while Dick checked her arms for any cuts and Damian has his sword at the ready yelling for her to prove she hasn't been corrupted. All the while Jason was screaming about how dangerous and reckless that was, and how he can't believe his own once dead ass wasn't enough to dissuade this scenario from coming up again.

Bruce: Enough! As concerned as we might feel, give her some room to breath. Tim, any signs of trouble?

Tim: No, she seems clean. No toxin in her.

Dick: No cuts or visible injuries either, it looks like he didn't lay a finger on her.

Em: That's cuz he didn't. I bluffed my way into pissing him off at the thought he wasn't dangerous enough for me to have been warned against, and then clocked him after I told him to check his fly.

Jason: And that shit worked?

Em: Pretty much, I bolted and he didn't follow me.

Bruce: Then you were very lucky... and very brave. Ready for a potential round 2?

Em: I guess I am.

(/rp! also, huge trigger warning for assault, graphic violence, death, abuse, possessive behaviour, obsession, mental breaks, hallucination, really fucking creepy treatment of a corpse, unreliable narrators, the perspective of a villain, torture, manipulation, and gaslighting! this gets pretty fucked up).

When Dream sees Tommy for the first time, there is no dramatic shift, no acknowledgement that his life had changed forever. No knowledge of the fact. All he sees is a skinny little kid who's obnoxious and loud, and he catalogues him just as one of Philza’s strays and leaves it at that.

No, it’s when Tommy drives the sword into his chest for the first time, and Dream wakes up from his non-canon death smiling despite itself when it clicks. He’s not sure what “it” is, exactly, but it’s just something about him Dream hadn’t seen in anyone before that has him hooked, captivated from the beginning.

(There's the vague recollection that he was like Tommy once, a bright eyed naive youth too loud for his own good, but that’s not unique. It’s not that, at least not entirely.)

The conflict was not started by Tommy, nor was he of any particular threat to Dream, but he was fun. So he ignored the rest, and took the boy's music discs. He knew Tommy well enough that he’d fight for them, and fight he did, and even though Dream lost in the end he laughed all the while. He’d played many a game before, but none quite this fun!

They both know this isn’t where it’ll end. Only one hopes it will be.

——

Dream didn’t care much about Wilbur's little revolutionary movement at first. As long as he obeyed the rules, and stayed in the server, it wouldn’t matter whether he delusionally thought he was under his own governance or not.

This changed immediately when he learnt Tommy was involved.

L'Manburg, a name he didn’t bother to remember until he learnt Tommy named it, was tiny, barely any more than a scavenged old world vehicle and some trees. It’s populace was peaceful, only Wilbur even an adult. None of that mattered. It wasn’t that the nation was a threat, though he certainly wouldn’t dissuade his friends fear that it was. But fighting L'Manburg meant fighting Tommy, and Dream wouldn't pass up the opportunity for anything.

He grinned with glee behind his mask as he blew Tommy's strange dirt hovel “embassy” sky high, enthusiastically threatened Tommy before remembering half heartedly to threaten the rest of the nation. He made dealings, found weak links- a new immigrant to the SMP that joined L'Manburg after the war began, it turns out. He offered extravagant promises in exchange for their betrayal, hiding the strings attached to his fingers.

Oh, but it was all worth it when the person with the eyes of an old god lead the revolutionaries into a trap, all worth it when they descended on them at once. It was definitely worth it to kill Tommy, kill Tommy, see him scream and cry in pain and stumble trying to escape and him taking a shuddering last breath. Dream had never seen anything as beautiful.

(It was a war, and feelings like this were okay in wars, right? It’s not like he was obsessed, it’s not like he was a monster. He’d been trying to be good, and killing your enemies was good, right?)

He killed Tommy a second time, too. The boy with shaking hands and a leg hanging limp challenged him to a duel for his nations future. His loss was assured, and Dream knew Tommy knew that also. This one was quicker, Tommy dead between the arrow entering his skull and his broken body make a loud thud against the planks, but it was no less fascinating. If only he had infinite canon lives, Dream would happily give up any ambitions and spend eternity seeing the boy die in so many fascinating ways.

(No, what the fuck was he thinking? The SMP was worth more than some stupid kid, and Dream wasn’t so inept with morality to know torturing someone over and over, killing them, was wrong.)

(Yet, it was so tempting he was almost ready to renounce morality wholeheartedly.)

It eventually comes to the discs again, Tommy handing Dream his prized possessions for some silly little nation. Dream knew Tommy would do anything to get them back. Having so much control was addicting, even more than control of anything else. Dream had learnt long ago that if you didn’t have complete power over anything, people would take the power from you and make you hurt.

So why did he care more about control of some kid than avoiding his own pain?

——

Dream would have sided with Tommy. Really, he would have, but Schlatt just had the better deal.

He holds the book in his hands, power filling him. He repeats the incantation, sacrifices the blood from his veins. He stares into the face of a man near-identical.

“”Brother dearest,”” he says, voice level. “”What do you wish of me?””

Dream grins behind his mask. “”Tommy.””

—

Wishes must come true, Dream thinks, as he sits on the beach of Logstedshire, Tommy passed out and leaning against his arm.

Oh, what he’d give for this moment to last forever. Alas, it passes, like they all do. Still, Tommy's getting so obedient lately- barely even grumbling as he threw his item into the hole. Part of him missed when Tommy would fight back all the while- his pained screams were entertaining. Still, it was safer this way, and more enjoyable in the long run. He’d hate to have his little songbird break it’s neck against the cage doors, never to sing again.

He’s not sure when life outside of Tommy became a chore, but he remembers dimly that it wasn’t always like that. There was a Dream long ago that wouldn’t give up friends and family, who'd cry over losing them even if he’d cut their threads voluntarily. He wasn’t that Dream anymore, the numb feeling in his chest a sign of growth. It didn’t matter that everything outside of Tommy was so miserable, because just being around the boy was a feeling a hundredfold better than any happiness he felt before.

Still, he had duties and responsibilities. Ones that seemed so important long ago, so fulfilling. Maybe one day they’d feel like that again. He had plans, from what he learnt. Government had not left him satisfied, but- whatever you could call what his relationship with Tommy was, it definitely did. Family, he supposed, recognising the boys actions towards him and his brothers. If he could make the entire server like that, that’d be a happiness greater than any other, apart from how Tommy made him feel.

He spent time with Tubbo, getting further and further towards getting that stupid fucking ram boy to calling him a friend and giving him Tommy's disc, all he wanted from him.

(He wasn’t jealous, of course he wasn’t. The anger he felt whenever Tommy called Tubbo a friend, that wasn’t jealousy. That was just logical).

Far more interesting was checking on the prison's completion. When it’s completed, it’d truly be a thing of beauty. Of course, his favourite part was the main cell, that he’d put so much thought into. He’d included all the little things that made Tommy squirm, made his breath hitch and eyes dart around fearfully. That would be so much fun.

(Tommy would learn to appreciate the fun in time, too. He was a smart boy, if irritatingly yet fascinatingly stubborn. He just needed to be taught that if he listened and just played along, Dream could give him the world.)

It took far too long, but eventually it finished, and he could return to the ugly mess of tents and logs he’d made so sure Tommy could never leave. He always started shaking when Dream showed up, trying desperately to hide his fear in his voice, and it was absolutely adorable. Dream savoured it, savoured everything about Tommy as they spent hours talking. Everything, his hysterical laugh, his nervous glances for escapes, the way he flinched whenever Dream grabbed his shoulder, his wrist, the poorly hidden look of pain when he held tighter, just hard enough to irritate the bruises that painted his skin a canvas of black and blue, it was all perfect.

Only he could love Tommy this much, and in time he knew Tommy would learn to appreciate that.

——

The second time he used the book, a tower extended from the ruins of the makeshift prison he’d made for Tommy. DreamXD stated ahead of him.

“”Brother dearest,” he said, “why are you calling on me again so soon?””

“”Bring him back,”” he said, voice painfully numb.

DreamXD shrugged a shoulder, golden hair waving around like in water. “”Who?””

“”Tommy.””

“”I cannot,”” DreamXD said. “”He lives.”” Dream couldn’t help but smile at hearing that.

“”Then bring him back to me.””

DreamXD laughed, a sound like church bells. “”That would be unnecessary. Did I not already grant you the mortal?””

Dream clenched his fist hard enough blood dripped onto scorched earth. “”He left me-“”

“”And you shall find him, no matter what.”” DreamXD smiled under the mask. “”You are bonded to him, and neither death nor distance shall break that. Just look, and you will find him, til the end of time and even past.””

“”Thank you,”” Dream said, genuinely for once.

“”Only the best for my little brother and sister. And I know you would do the same for us, brother dearest.””

——

His planning had come to fruition for once.

They were alone, in the depths of the Earth, just him, Tommy, the fucking hilarious excuse for a “president” Tommy called a friend for some reason, and his axe.

Finally, he could bring his dreams to fruition. He could get rid of any loose threads, and claim what was rightfully his. And once he’d taught Tommy to be grateful, he could get to work on the rest of the server.

It’d be beautiful. Everyone would be his friend, his brother, his sister, something in between. There would be no more wars, just peace. Everyone would be safe, he’d know they’re safe and they’d never rip him to pieces and laugh at his pain. And oh, it’d like be hard work, breaking everyone into obedience but not too much to the point they become boring, but so enjoyable and satisfying. He’d almost be disappointed when it was over.

Tommy- his Tommy, his Tommy, was crying, and it was amusing but he almost wanted to reach out and comfort him and explain it’d all be for the best. He’d do that later, once he’d secured him and any loose ends were gone forever. He couldn’t afford weakness until they were alone, but Tommy made it so tempting.

The ram and Tommy hugged a final goodbye, and the adoration he had towards Tommy, hiding his fear behind a smile, made Dream fucking sick. He should know Tommy was his. They all should know. He’d teach them, when he made the server a perfect family. Even Tubbo, if Tommy begged enough. Dream would do anything to hear Tommy's pathetic, gorgeous begging, breaking through his aggressive walls, and bringing back some random sheep was easily in his brother's power.

See, he could be kind. He wasn’t cruel, he wasn’t a monster. He didn’t even care if he was anymore, fun was so much more important than nonsensical human concepts, but it wasn’t even true. He could be incredibly, selflessly kind, as long as he had a reason. They’d learn, once he fulfilled his dream.

The sound of a nether portal, of betrayal, shatters his dreams and at this point he wonders why he’s surprised.

——

He’d had doubts, during the weeks (months, years? he had no way of knowing) he’d been trapped in the cell, but Tommy being here with him confirmed his design was excellent.

Oh, Tommy was being fucking obnoxious- and Dream knew he was doing it on purpose- but he saw it in the way he never was able to look at the lava properly, the way he always woke up in a cold sweat calling for his daddy like the child he insisted he wasn’t. It was perfect.

(Of course it was, though. It’s not hard to build on something already perfected, and Tommy was the perfect little toy.)

Tommy was so frustratingly different though. He tried not to take it out on him- it wasn’t his fault that everyone else spread lies, planted nonsense in his head about Dream being bad and not trying to do the best for everyone but especially for him- but he struggled sometimes, and it was always so tempting to hurt Tommy anyway, and get lost in the melody of his screams. It wouldn’t teach Tommy anything though, and that’s what was important. He needed to teach Tommy what was best for him.

Tommy had unlearnt all the lessons Dream painstakingly taught him. That wouldn’t be an issue- it was so, so fun to teach- but he knew, painfully deep down in his heart that he could not hold Tommy forever, not yet. The lockdown wasn’t forever, and Dream had no escape route yet. Tommy would just forget everything again, at the hands of his “friends” that couldn’t love him as much as Dream did. They needed to learn far more than Tommy did.

(Except Ranboo of course- oh, the purple eyed boy had the silly naive thoughts in his head everyone seemed to have that friendship was anything but possessing another, but he agreed family came first, listened to Dream, helped him, even with clenched teeth.)

And when one day the frustration got to Dream one day and he was so furious he hit Tommy again and again against the walls of the prison and strangled him until he was cold all he could do was laugh and laugh and laugh.

It was so, so funny, because of course he’d be the one to destroy everything he loved.

——

This time, when DreamXD is called, he looks upon his brother with concern.

“”Brother dearest,”” he says, “”are you quite alright?””

Dream laughs, because of course he’s alright! The tears staining his face must be joy, because of course he’s alright. He’s holding Tommy here, with him, and he was quiet, he must be listening. He can’t be dead, he can’t be, then there’d be no point to any of this.

“”Drista has been concerned for you for quite a while, you know,”” DreamXD continued. “”Is this because of your mortal?””

“”He’s been ever so quiet lately,”” Dream said, with a voice hoarse from crying and laughter. “”I’m not sure to be concerned or happy with him.””

“”You’re not well, Dream.”” DreamXD said, with a tone of finality despite clearly being wrong. “”The boy is dead.””

Dream laughs. “”And yet he does not slip from my grasp.””

“”Then, brother, why did you call me?””

The silence pierces through air like a knife. Eventually, through hiccuping sobs, Dream says “”Just, please, bring him back.””

Tommy sputters to life with ghostly eye and pure white streaks and more bruise on him than corpselike skin and Dream thinks he has never been more perfect.

——

Quackity's left, he thinks, because the pain's stopped growing.

He laughs, because he doesn’t know what to fucking do anymore but laugh. He can’t give up the secrets of the book, of course he can’t. Family comes first, after all, and he dreads to think what the bastard would do to his brother. But the pain was awful, never ending in waves through his whole body, and he almost just wants to confess so he can die.

He cradles what’s left of his arm since the bastard cut it off at the elbow, and he sobs. He doesn’t even care to hide it with his mask. It’s not even the pain that hurts the most, even. It’s that Tommy's gone, and by the time Dream escapes- because he’s going to escape, he’s got to- he might be so far from his grasp even their fates being tied might not be enough.

“Of course that’s not true,” a fake voice says in his head, and wavy form approaches. Fuck, the blood loss must be bad today. It always is when he sees things. Usually it’s George or Bad or Sapnap, and it leaves him with a numb feeling in his chest that he’s familiar with, but today it’s Tommy, and that’s worse. It reminds him of what he cannot hold.

“Fuck off,” he mouths at the apparition, voice too tired and hoarse from screaming to speak properly. Not-Tommy laughs, and the sound is so similar to Tommy he almost thinks that his desperate prayers have been answered, Tommy is there again, but he reached his fingers forward and they go through his tired hallucination.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Not-Tommy says, and laughs again. “But I know you mean the best.” Dream shrugs his shoulder at the fake, and then curls up, new waves of pain curling up his arm.

“I don’t know why I was ever friends with that bastard.” Not-Tommy lies, and Dream wants to believe it. “You’re just having fun. He’s cruel.” Tommy would never understand that clear distinction, no matter how much Dream explained it, but the fake said it with such conviction it was almost enough for Dream to fall for it.

“When you get out, I’ll be there, Dream. And then we can all be a big happy family,” Not-Tommy says, the thoughts so obviously Dream's and not Tommy’s but- the idea that Tommy understood, that he saw sense, was so tempting, Dream allowed himself to believe it, just for a second. Just until the pain started anew.

Broken and bloody, Dream drifted into unconsciousness with a smile on his face.

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 26 part one

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes! 

I’m Coming Up So You Better Get This Party Started

The Lans arrive just in time to see Cousin Jin Zixun hassling Su She, and they wonder how he has the fucking nerve to come to a party that they are also invited to. 

Su she was invited by his new best friend Jin Guangyao, who deploys a full-on charm attack, wrapping Su She permanently around his little finger. 

Smoother than the Lanling weather that’s how he holds himself together Watch out, he’ll charm you 

Jin Guangyao grew up with women who earned their living by being charming, pleasant, and hiding their true thoughts from their clients, and he appears to have mastered this useful skill set. With Su She, he exudes confidence and authority, allowing the lesser man to bask in his attention.

With Zewu Jun he deploys helplessness and embarrassment, effectively controlling a man with much greater power than his own.

Lan Xichen confronts him about Su She's presence, and Jin Guangyao pretends he didn't know that Su She was ex-Lan. This seems super unlikely, given that JGY is good at collecting information that he can use to fuck with people, and also that he sheltered Lan Xichen from the Wens directly after Su She betrayed him.

Lan Xichen seems like he doesn't believe what JGY is telling him but then he decides to drop it, passive-aggressively saying that since JGY is uninformed, he's not guilty. Lan Xichen is actually assuming a lot here about his right to tell Jin Guangyao who to invite and who to shun, but JGY doesn't push back. Lying is so much simpler.

(more behind the cut!)

Su She wins for most unintentionally sarcastic-seeming toasting expression.

Jiang Cheng, Party Animal

Jiang Cheng arrives at the party, bringing his Jiang retinue and his bad temper. He super obviously casts around to try to find Wei Wuxian, who already told him he probably wasn't coming to the party.

Jiang Cheng is that guy who only comes to a party because the girl he likes said she was thinking about going, and then he spends the whole party saying "hey have you seen Mei Lin? She said she was going to be here but I don't see her."

Jin Guangyao formally congratulates Jiang Cheng on the Jiang clan's success in the hunt, and Jin Guangshan toasts him. As always, Jiang Cheng reacts to praise from authority figures like it's rain in the desert, smiling from ear to ear. He says that the Jiang Clan will donate the prey from the hunt to the other gentry clans. ...what?

Are we seriously saying that when these dudes go night hunting it's not just to remove dangerous bad stuff, it's for profit? 

Like, do they eat monsters? Wear their fur? Make leather from their skin? Carve jewelry from their claws? Is Jiang Cheng wearing a purple monster's skin right now? (There will be an art prompt at the end of this post)

Meanwhile, check out the way Nie Huaisang is looking at Jiang Cheng, wow.

Forecast: Hazing

Having gotten the single pleasant part of the banquet over with, it's time for the Jins to pick on the Lans. Cousin Jin Zixun goads Lan Xichen into taking a drink with him, knowing that this is (mostly) against Lan rules. Jin Guangyao tries to stop him by saying, hilariously, that it's bad to drink and fly on a sword, but CJZX waves this away and keeps pushing, saying that if Lan Xichen won't drink, it's an insult to him.

A random cultivator who is definitely on the Jin payroll backs him up, saying that teetotaling is for losers, and Captain Blowhard boisterously agrees. Loudly agreeing with powerful people is the Yao clan's signature martial arts skill.

Jin Guangyao looks embarrassed and helpless, which is, as mentioned before, his own signature skill. But he's just playing his own part in this piece of theater; everything happening at this party (so far) is happening for the benefit of the Jin Clan. Cousin Jin Zixun is an ass, but he's not actually a loose cannon, and Jin Guangshan is clearly enjoying the Lans' discomfort.

Why? This entire party, the hunt, everything he's done since the end of the Sunshot campaign, has been designed to increase and consolidate his power. His main goal is to get the Yin Tiger seal, but reducing the status of the Lans is also a good move for him. The Lans have been the strongest opponents to the use of resentful energy, and worked the hardest to conceal and contain the Yin iron in the past. If he wants to use resentful energy as part of his own cultivation, he needs them to chill. 

So this is a bit of a test; will they comply with the will of the larger group in order to avoid conflict, or will they refuse, which will allow him to label them as iconoclastic weirdos?. 

Lan Xichen takes a long look at his brother, who is expressing all sorts of emotions while keeping his face very very still. 

At a guess, he is thinking that this entire party is bullshit, that his brother's willingness to play along with these assholes is bullshit, that being viciously beaten for having a single drink in his life was bullshit, that Wei Wuxian not being here right now is bullshit.

Lan Xichen picks the "go along, get along" path, having his drink and using his magic skill of anti-intoxication to neutralize it, as he'd done previously when drinking with Wei Wuxian. 

Cousin Jin Zixun picks on Lan Wangji next, and since he cannot magically or even non-magically tolerate alcohol, there is a real risk to his reputation if he drinks. But Lan Wangji breaks rules when he feels like it, not when people tell him to. He pointedly ignores the offered drink while Lan Xichen looks worried. 

The rest of the party guests have a wide variety of reactions, none of them helpful, to these shenanigans. Jin Guanshan's son and heir watches with calm interest as the power dynamics play out.

All of this is actually not great strategy for the Jins. The Lans don't play little social games to gain power, because all that time they spend not drinking, not gossiping, and not doing other stuff? Is spent cultivating and practicing sword and musical battle forms. The Lan Bros are overwhelmingly powerful as individuals, and embarrassing them won't change that.

It's moot, ultimately, because Wei Wuxian chooses this moment to arrive.

Darkness Visible

Wei Wuxian actually made a big impressive stair-climbing entrance to Jinlintai a few minutes ago, with camera work echoing Lan Wangji's stair climb at the Wen Indoctrination Bureau from several episodes back. 

But nobody was around to see that, other than us, and when he appears at the party it's in stealth mode; he steps into the frame from out of nowhere, and drinks Lan Wangji's unwanted drink.

Lan Wangji responds by looking at him like this for the next several minutes.

Wei Wuxian doesn't have time for their usual sport of Extreme Gazing, though; he came for a reason, which is to find and rescue Wen Ning. He gets right to it, asking Cousin Jin Zixun where he's keeping him.

Jiang Cheng, who is the king of worrying about the wrong fucking thing, jumps up to try to stop Wei Wuxian from talking. Like, seriously, he's ok with the Jins trying to take his clan's special extreme weapon, but he's not ok with his head disciple being rude in order to fulfill a whopper of a life debt--Jiang Cheng's life debt, in particular--or being rude in order to preserve the clan's independence.

Jin Guangshan decides this is a good moment to bring up the Yin tiger amulet. Wei Wuxian pushes back, hard, pointing out exactly what Jin Guangshan is doing. He says he's setting himself up to be a new Wen Ruohan. 

Lan Wangji pays close attention to Wei Wuxian's reasoning here, and so does Nie Mingjue, unless he’s just trying to mask his confusion. 

Jiang Cheng is too busy being horrified to listen, apparently. Or he just doesn’t agree, preferring to be reduced to a secondary authority, rather than defy a primary authority.

Wei Wuxian is, of course, all about independence; he was literally born to be a rogue cultivator, despite being dubbed “patriarch” himself, not long after this. 

Let’s Go Crazy Let’s Get Nuts

Wei Wuxian gets tired of the scene and decides to lose his temper. He makes a show of being enraged, and he genuinely is angry, but I don't think he's out of control, this time.  

He acts like he's out of control in order to scare everyone, but he makes his points very clearly, reminding everyone that he has power they don't have, that he's good at killing, that he's not patient, and that his teeth are nicer than everybody else’s. 

Everybody in the room freaks out to one degree or another--except Jin Guangshan, who is apparently too pissed off to be scared.

It's hilarious that Jin Guangshan thought he was going to get Wei Wuxian to hand the Yin Tiger amulet over by creating a complex system of social pressure against him. Wei Wuxian's favorite way of responding to social pressure is to escalate it into violence, regardless of the consequences; he's been doing that at least since Gusu Summer School and probably a lot longer. Jin Guangshan should know this, given how many beatings his son has taken from Wei Wuxian over the years.

Wei Wuxian does a fantastically sexy scary, theatrical countdown, and Cousin Jin Zixun caves in and gives him the information he wants. It's worth noticing that even under threat of death, CJZX doesn't comply until he visually checks in with his clan leader. He’s genuinely a bad person, yes, but he’s a loyal soldier, which is what most of these clans value most. 

As soon as he gets what he wants, Wei Wuxian is perfectly, smugly, in control of himself again. Everyone in the room is still stunned and afraid, so Jin Guangshan has achieved that much, at least; nobody likes Wei Wuxian having the Yin tiger seal now, including Jiang Cheng. 

As he leaves, Wei Wuxian has one of those conversations with Lan Wangji in which everything is said in glances in the course of a couple of seconds. 

WWX: I love you, I have to leave you; I've got some shit to take care of and I won't be coming back to all of this. 

LWJ: I love you; I'm probably going to have to fight you; your funeral is going to be so upsetting

Wei Wuxian turns away from everyone, and you can see the weight settling on his shoulders, as he contemplates the choices he just made and the choices that are still ahead of him. 

Jin Guangshan, for the first and only time, loses his temper in front of everybody, literally flipping a table because he's so mad about what just happened. 

Art prompt: Jiang Cheng wearing an outfit made of a Chinese mythical creature. Bonus points if it’s a qilin. Bonus bonus points if Zhang Qiling (from DMBJ/Lost Tomb franchise) is standing next to him looking grumpy while Jiang Cheng wears an outfit made from a qilin. 

Soundtrack: Get This Party Started by Pink, Charm Attack by Leona Naess, Let’s Go Crazy by Prince.