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daosies · 4 months

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"stop looking at me like that."

"like what?"

they can't help but stare at you.

luka, jing yuan, gepard, dan heng ♡ gn!reader

warnings: graphic descriptions of love (crude imagery), pre-established relationship, reader is a nameless (dan heng's part)

notes: Can u tell my fav based on how much i write for them? (Its luka)

no matter where you are, luka's azure gaze will always find its way to you. even when he's in the midst of one of his matches, luka can't help but sneak a tiny (that, in reality, is not so tiny) glance at you, eager for your approval.

such a "tiny" glance lands him on the floor, his opponent landing a punch square on luka's jaw. pain reverberates throughout his body, sending waves of heat rushing to his face.

"ouch," he groans, narrowly avoiding another hit. he recovers quickly, his gaze now fixated wholly on his opponent.

adrenaline courses through his veins, his movements smoother than usual as luka apprehends his opponent in a matter of seconds. even as he's in the midst of putting someone in a headlock, his vision blinded by the lights of the fighting rink, luka's eyes find you.

he doesn't know how to explain it—his eyes are just naturally drawn to you. no matter where you are, luka will find you, and he will adore you. even if the spotlights blur his vision, just your silhouette is enough to satisfy him.

(maybe, when he was created, and when the aeons pieced together bits of his eyes, they carved his irises with the intention of beholding you. maybe, when luka was blessed with sight, it was because the aeons wanted him to witness you.)

even now, as the referee raises his arm in order to declare his victory, luka searches for you in the crowd. his grin widens as he waves at you with his free, mechanical hand. luka adores you; it's evident in the glimmer of his azure eyes and the way he immediately rushes to celebrate with you.

"i didn't think you'd come,"—but he'd still search for you anyway—"i'm so glad you did!" luka rubs the back of his head bashfully, the adrenaline pumping throughout his body beginning to wear off. only now does luka realize you're there, and that you just watched him fight!

his eyes never leave your frame. luka observes you under the muted lights, fluorescent bulbs flickering as if they became anxious in your presence. he supposes that he's not your only admirer, with the way the lights dim and the crowd's cheers fall silent, the way the world quiets to heed your words.

(what he doesn't realize is that the lights never dimmed, that the crowd never quieted. luka felt things that never happened, he envisioned a spotlight on you that never existed—but to him, it did. the world really did wait for you.)

"you were great out there, luka!"

you smile, and luka feels something flutter within him. his heartbeat travels from his chest, suddenly echoing throughout his body, making itself known even in the tips of his fingers and the rush of his ears.

something flutters within him, and luka thinks he's fallen for you. again.

"interesting move," jing yuan states. he rests his cheek against the palm of his hand, his lips curling into the slightest of smiles as he stares at you shamelessly.

"you weren't even looking at the board."

he chuckles. "you got me."

despite being caught red-handed, jing yuan's amber gaze never leaves your face. his eyes trace over the flutter of your lashes, the bridge of your nose, memorizing the features he's already so used to. the features that you're sure he's seen a thousand times before.

even with your piercing glare, jing yuan continues to marvel at you, not bothering to hide the way his pupils scrutinize your frame. he stares at you like he can see your soul, like—within the depths of your irises—he can see your dreams, your wishes.

"move a piece," you say, unamused. "and stop staring."

"i'm not staring," jing yuan responds matter-of-factly. he continues to observe you, never tearing his gaze away. you shrink under the general's gaze, suddenly becoming self-conscious of the way you sit and the way you exist.

jing yuan notices this, and he frowns.

"why are you doing that?" he asks. his index finger comes up to poke your forehead, urging you to ease the furrow of your brows.

"'cause the so-called chess master isn't making a move," you comment blandly. jing yuan chuckles.

"just pretend the so-called chess master,"—he still doesn't look down at the board—"is thinking. and isn't looking at you."

"you're making it kind of difficult to do so," you respond, unamused.

"give me five minutes." jing yuan pauses. "actually, ten will do."

"make a move!" you exclaim impatiently, pointing at the table in order to redirect jing yuan's attention. he feigns ignorance to your frustration, opting to observe the pout of your lips instead.

"cute," he mutters, not caring if you hear.

"are you even listening?"

"yeah," he says; it comes out more like a dreamy sigh rather than a proper response. with soft, adoring irises and a sickly sweet smile that makes you wonder if it's fake, jing yuan looks as if he has been possessed by cupid himself.

"ugh, why do i even try with you?"

jing yuan hums. "twenty minutes."

gepard swears he isn't staring at you on purpose.

but the more he looks at you, the more he notices. he notices the way you furrow your brows whenever you concentrate, the way your eyes twinkle when talking about something you enjoy. gepard notices the way you bite your bottom lip whenever you're frustrated, the way you tilt your head when you listen to someone speak.

aeons, he thinks, watching you exist, aeons. gepard swears he isn't staring at you on purpose—it just so happens that his gaze is on you. it just so happens that his gaze is always on you.

it's not his fault, really!

"hello? geppie?" serval says, waving her hand in front of the man's awestruck eyes. he blinks in embarrassment, his mouth hanging slightly agape as he looks down at the countertop, observing the splinters of wood with utmost attention.

"yes, serval?" he replies, struggling to find his voice. he winces at the way it sounds, the way his voice seems to dismember itself in your presence. gepard hates the way he acts around you, the way he becomes conscious of things like the way he walks, the way he talks.

it's humiliating, really, the way you reduce gepard to a flustered mess. he hates the way your eyes make him weak in his knees, the way you smile at him with that smile of yours. it makes him want to love you and love you, loving 'till the end of time, 'till the stars fall.

gepard wants to love you so much it hurts. he wants to love you to the point where his love turns into a knife, carving his heart out, taking it apart by its chambers. he gives you one chamber, then two, then three, then four, and all of a sudden, he's missing a heart—but what does it matter, whether or not he has a heart? in the end, it belongs to you.

"looks like someone's got a crush," serval says with a smirk. her vibrant cerulean eyes follow her brother's, fixating on your expression as you flip through pages of a travel guide gifted by the nameless. she doesn't notice how your lips tug into a frown, how your brows furrow ever so slightly.

gepard does, though. gepard seems to notice everything about you.

"don't say it here...!" gepard exclaims, trying to keep his volume low. serval, on the other hand, has no regards for secrecy. she slaps her hand against the counter, getting a good, hearty chuckle from her brother's beet red face and the way his eyes are wide with panic.

"right, right!" she laughs, clutching her stomach (gepard doesn't get why she's acting like he just made the best joke in the universe—it's not that funny). the floorboards creak with her movements, as if they too were finding amusement in gepard's predicament. the captain's gaze is not lingering in front of him for long, though, because in a matter of seconds, he finds himself staring at you. again.

he thinks you look ethereal basking in the daylight, the golden glow clinging to your skin. gepard thinks that, like him, the sun adores you. it's in the way its rays trace over your features, adorning your eyes with fragmented light, slipping your irises in between its shattered reflections and making you its own.

your eyes glimmer.

"dan heng!" march 7th yells, slapping the aforementioned man's back harshly. "stop staring and get working! [name] doesn't like useless men!"

dan heng bites his tongue, swallowing his words (and insults) as he returns to wiping down the train's furniture. it was your idea to help pom pom out by dedicating a day to clean up the express, which dan heng thought was admirable.

they're thoughtful, he muses, absentmindedly scrubbing at a coffee stain left by one of himeko's five thousand mugs. really thoughtful. but dan heng already knows that—it's in the way your voice drops to a whisper whenever he's reading, the way you always buy him souvenirs and beverages from places you visit.

although you're a nameless like him, you often travel on your own accord, making stops as you please and wandering the universe as if it were yours.

(maybe it is, dan heng thinks, entertaining the idea, maybe the world really is yours. frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if it was. it would make a lot of sense, actually. how is it possible for things to be so beautiful, if not belonging to you?)

"useless men?" you suddenly echo from down the hall, appearing around the corner with a mop in hand and a bucket in the other. dan heng rushes to you, his palm outstretched as he urges you to give him the bucket and split the weight.

"o-oh," march stutters, suddenly becoming speechless, "f...fancy seeing you here!"

you raise a brow. "i live here?"

"is that so?" march echoes, laughing stiffly to herself. "how funny! i didn't know you could hear what i was saying..."

"only the 'useless men' part," you say, shaking your head. "what's wrong with useless men?"

"well, for starters," dan heng answers, "they're useless."

"that's okay," you respond. "sometimes, being useless is fun."

is their type useless men? dan heng wonders to himself, suddenly feeling insecure. should he put this bucket down? will you find him useless, then?

"so... you like useless men?!" march asks, pointing accusingly at you. dan heng grimaces—just why does march have to be astute in the worst of times? why did she figure out who dan heng liked, if she usually struggles adding decimals?

you blink owlishly. "uh, not really? i'm just saying they're not that bad."

dan heng's grip tightens around the bucket's handle. i can work with that, he thinks, suddenly strategizing.

"what's your type, then?" march questions, stepping closer to you. "blonde, perhaps? ginger? blue?"

she didn't say black hair, dan heng thinks, about to reach for a tuft of his own.

"maybe dark hair?" you respond, your eyes narrowed in thought. "i like it when they make it obvious they like me, though."

"like if they stare at you a lot?" march asks, leaning in.

"yeah!" you reply. "that'd be cute!"

"oh, good!" march exclaims, pleased with herself. "dan heng here does a lot of that!"

"what?" both you and dan heng say in unison. while your tone is confused, dan heng's tone is disbelieving, as if he really did not believe that march just outed him like that.

(march did, in fact, just out him like that.)

you exchange glances with the man, but much to your surprise, he's already staring.

something tells you he's been staring for a while, it's just that you only noticed now.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #gepard x reader #dan heng x reader #jing yuan x reader #luka x reader #gepard x you #gepard landau #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x y/n #dan heng x you #luka hsr

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burntoutdaydreamer · 6 months

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To Write Better Antagonists, Have Them Embody the Protagonist's Struggles

(Spoilers for The Devil Wears Prada, Avatar the Last Airbender, Kung Fu Panda 2, and The Hunger Games triology).

Writing antagonists and villains can be hard, especially if you don't know how to do so.

I think a lot of writers' first impulse is to start off with a placeholder antagonist, only to find that this character ends up falling flat. They finish their story only for readers to find the antagonist is not scary or threatening at all.

Often the default reaction to this is to focus on making the antagonist meaner, badder, or scarier in whatever way they can- or alternatively they introduce a Tragic Backstory to make them seem broken and sympathetic. Often, this ends up having the exact opposite effect. Instead of a compelling and genuinely terrifying villain, the writer ends up with a Big Bad Edge Lord who the reader just straight up does not care about, or actively rolls their eyes at (I'm looking at you, Marvel).

What makes an antagonist or villain intimidating is not the sheer power they hold, but the personal or existential threat they pose to the protagonist. Meaning, their strength as a character comes from how they tie into the themes of the story.

To show what I mean, here's four examples of the thematic roles an antagonist can serve:

1. A Dark Reflection of the Protagonist

The Devil Wears Prada

Miranda Priestly is initially presented as a terrible boss- which she is- but as the movie goes on, we get to see her in a new light. We see her as an bonafide expert in her field, and a professional woman who’s incredible at what she does. We even begin to see her personal struggles behind the scenes, where it’s clear her success has come at a huge personal cost. Her marriages fall apart, she spends every waking moment working, and because she’s a woman in the corporate world, people are constantly trying to tear her down.

The climax of the movie, and the moment that leaves the viewer most disturbed, does not feature Miranda abusing Andy worse than ever before, but praising her. Specifically, she praises her by saying “I see a great deal of myself in you.” Here, we realize that, like Miranda, Andy has put her job and her career before everything else that she cares about, and has been slowly sacrificing everything about herself just to keep it. While Andy's actions are still a far cry from Miranda's sadistic and abusive managerial style, it's similar enough to recognize that if she continues down her path, she will likely end up turning into Miranda.

In the movie's resolution, Andy does not defeat Miranda by impressing her or proving her wrong (she already did that around the half way mark). Instead, she rejects the values and ideals that her toxic workplace has been forcing on her, and chooses to leave it all behind.

2. An Obstacle to the Protagonist's Ideals

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Fire Lord Ozai is a Big Bad Baddie without much depth or redemptive qualities. Normally this makes for a bad antagonist (and it's probably the reason Ozai has very little screen time compared to his children), but in Avatar: The Last Airbender, it works.

Why?

Because his very existence is a threat to Aang's values of nonviolence and forgiveness.

Fire Lord Ozai cannot be reasoned with. He plans to conquer and burn down the world, and for most of the story, it seems that the only way to stop him is to kill him, which goes against everything Aang stands for. Whether or not Aang could beat the Fire Lord was never really in question, at least for any adults watching the show. The real tension of the final season came from whether Aang could defeat the Fire Lord without sacrificing the ideals he inherited from the nomads; i.e. whether he could fulfill the role of the Avatar while remaining true to himself and his culture.

In the end, he manages to find a way: he defeats the Fire Lord not by killing him, but by stripping him of his powers.

3. A Symbol of the Protagonist's Inner Struggle

Kung Fu Panda 2

Kung Fu Panda 2 is about Po's quest for inner peace, and the villain, Lord Shen, symbolizes everything that's standing in his way.

Po and Lord Shen have very different stories that share one thing in common: they both cannot let go of the past. Lord Shen is obsessed with proving his parents wrong and getting vengeance by conquering all of China. Po is struggling to come to terms with the fact that he is adopted and is desperate to figure out who he is and why he ended up left in a box of radishes as a baby.

Lord Shen symbolizes Po's inner struggle in two main ways: one, he was the source of the tragedy that separated him from his parents, and two, he reinforces Po's negative assumptions about himself. When Po realizes that Lord Shen knows about his past and confronts him, Lord Shen immediately tells Po exactly what he's afraid of hearing: that his parents abandoned him because they didn't love him. Po and the Furious Five struggle to beat Shen not because he's powerful, but because Po can't let go of the past, and this causes him to repeatedly freeze up in battle, which Shen uses to his advantage.

Po overcomes Shen when he does the one thing Shen is incapable of: he lets go of the past and finds inner peace. Po comes to terms with his tragic past and recognizes that it does not define him, while Shen holds on to his obsession of defying his fate, which ultimately leads to his downfall.

4. A Representative of a Harsh Reality or a Bigger System

The Hunger Games

We don't really see President Snow do all that much on his own. Most of the direct conflict that Katniss faces is not against him, but against his underlings and the larger Capitol government. The few interactions we see between her and President Snow are mainly the two of them talking, and this is where we see the kind of threat he poses.

President Snow never lies to Katniss, not even once, and this is the true genius behind his character. He doesn't have to lie to or deceive Katniss, because the truth is enough to keep her complicit.

Katniss knows that fighting Snow and the Capital will lead to total war and destruction- the kind where there are survivors, but no winners. Snow tells her to imagine thousands upon thousands of her people dead, and that's exactly what happens. The entirety of District 12 gets bombed to ashes, Peeta gets brainwashed and turned into a human weapon, and her sister Prim, the very person she set out to protect at the beginning of the story, dies just before the Capitol's surrender. The districts won, but at a devastating cost.

Even after President Snow is captured and put up for execution, he continues to hurt Katniss by telling her the truth. He tells her that the bombs that killed her sister Prim were not sent by him, but by the people on her side. He brings to her attention that the rebellion she's been fighting for might just implement a regime just as oppressive and brutal as the one they overthrew and he's right.

In the end, Katniss is not the one to kill President Snow. She passes up her one chance to kill him to take down President Coin instead.

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sluttylittlewaistenthusiast · 5 days

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╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs masterlist

☾ @gutsby

☼ Wedded Bliss

⭒ The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

☾ @samthemarvelfan

☼ Bad Romance

⭒ In Brooklyn, everyone knows the unwritten rule: you don’t cross James Barnes. When you return after nearly half a decade, things are anything but the same. After the murder of your Uncle, you begin to learn that no one is who they say they are, and that you may have accidentally given your heart to a mobster; The White Wolf of Brooklyn. More dangerous than that, he’s given you his.

☾ @anonymityisfunwriter

☼ Two Sides of the Same Coin

☼ You're Losing Me

⭒ Your fairytale ending is crumbling before your eyes. You don't know how to love someone who can't tell you're dying. You fear you're fading away, begging him to do someone, say something, choose something. You fear he won't be able to resuscitate you this time. This time, he's losing you.

☼ Alone Together

⭒ It was always been you and Bucky, alone together, you'd say. But suddenly, you're just alone.

☾ @pellucid-constellations

☼ For the Love of the Game

⭒ Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it.

☾ @sinner-as-saint

☼ Tempestuous

⭒ With his kingdom flourishing in peace, and no threats from enemies; recently crowned King - James Buchanan Barnes sets out at sea. With his finest ship, the best crew ever recruited, and a deep desire to see whether the edge of the world truly exists; the King sets sail. Hoping to find the marvels of the ocean, to find beauty and magic even; however he ends up finding a fiery soul – one he cannot get enough of. But then again, no love story is ever perfect, is it?

☼ Ruin

⭒ You work at a café owned by your family, close to your uni. And most of your days are pretty laid back and calm, but that is until you catch the eye of the mob boss. Your cute skirts and soft sweaters make him weak. Your innocence captivates him. And he wants you, badly. He wants you in his bed, wants his hand under those cute little skirts… he wants to ruin you.

☼ A Sweeter Place

⭒ Years after a messy break-up, and now seeking stability, infamous mob boss James Buchanan Barnes finds himself reunited with an old flame of his. Instant guilt and regret wash over him when he finds out that his reckless ways back then, changed an innocent girl’s life forever.

☼ You're No Saint

⭒ Steve and Bucky have been friends since they were young boys. They are inseparable, so naturally when you married Steve you were aware that Bucky came along with him. Every event, every vacation, even as the best man at your wedding - Bucky was always there, alongside you and Steve. He was one of your best friends as well, so you’ve never thought of him in a sexual way, ever. That is until one certain night, when you see something you’re not supposed to and you like it a little too much. You deny your desire towards Bucky, but Steve knows you better than anyone. He knows what you want and need, and he’s determined to fulfil your fantasy; because what his wife wants, she gets.

☼ Run For Your Life

⭒ He was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with.

☼ All Yours

⭒ One of your students confess their feelings for you and things get interesting...

☾ @mellowsaturns

☼ In Losing Grip, on Sinking Ships

⭒ when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.

☼ All to Myself

⭒ after bucky finds out why you've been acting up ever since his company's party, he teaches you a lesson and remind you that you're the only one for him

☾ @renxzs

☼ Redemancy

⭒ Maybe it was a bit naive to think moving in with your best friend and long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, was going to be some smooth road that led to an admittance of mutual feelings for one another and a happily-ever-after ending, wrapped up nicely in a bow. Naive indeed; especially when you have to consider the fact that Bucky is the biggest womanizer you know.

☾ @cryptidcasanova

☼ My Devotion

⭒ The one where Bucky doesn’t take your breakup well.

☾ @subwaysurf45

☼ She's Not Mad

⭒ Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways.

☾ @adrinktostopyourthirst

☼ Sniper

⭒ Reluctantly, you get thrown into an assignment with Bucky and Yelena, but Bucky doesn't trust you as far as he can throw you. When he's proven to be correct, it turns out you're still a hell of a good team.

☼ Three Hundred

⭒ Bucky always makes sure his best friend is okay, because that is what you need. He's caring, but very passive and nonchalant, because you need it. Not him. He doesn't need that. He doesn't need you. Does he?

☼ Variant

⭒ The chaos of the multiverse is quite literally holding up a mirror to Bucky. Turns out, it's very easy to get under someone's skin when you have a universal connection to them.

☼ Underground

⭒ The Underground is the last way for you to survive whatever is left of the world after the Blip. Natasha introduces you to the Winter Soldier whose wing you're under until you find your way around. He's a stoic Underground fighter and you're... useless.

☼ One Shot

⭒ Bucky and you have a hard time staying away from each other. And though you try to push him away, every time he finds you again, the universe finds a new way to pull you apart.

☾ @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

☼ After All This Time

☾ @boxofbonesfic

☼ You're Gonna Give Me Six

☾ @little-miss-dilf-lover

☼ Fifteen Minutes

☾ @ellemj

☼ Bigger Than He Was

⭒ Bucky pretends to be your new man when you run into your ex in public. However, the little act of pretending sparks something inside of him that he didn't know was there.

☼ Strawberries

⭒ Bucky, the man with a long list of girls on his roster, gets exposed to a sex pollen in the field. Will he fuck the first girl he calls or the girl he's wanted for the last two months?

☼ Breathe, Part 2

⭒ Bucky hates the way you take unnecessary risks in the field, the way you're so mesmerizing and yet so hard to work with, and he especially hates the way you get on your knees for him during a dangerous mission. Finding out how pretty you look on your knees is the last thing he needs.

☼ Flustered, part 2

⭒ Bucky seems to thoroughly appreciate all women...except for you. When he finds out one of your weaknesses, he can't help but use it against you, which only makes you hate him more.

☾ @viixenvi

☼ Red

⭒ You work at a strip club and Bucky is a regular. Tonight he specifically asks for you in a private room. You never thought he'd love the color red on you so much.

☾ @ro-is-struggling

☼ Self Care

⭒ Bucky always seemed interested in your skin care routine, so when one day he arrives tired and drained from a mission, you take the opportunity to show him the importance and benefits of self-care.

☾ @kinanabinks

☼ Silent Girl

⭒ After a traumatizing event, you aren’t the friendliest or most talkative of people. Bucky understands, and in turn becomes the one person you soften your hard exterior for.

☾ @angrythingstarlight

☼ Roommate Bucky

☾ @wkemeup

☼ Cold, Cold Water

⭒ While on a stakeout in the heart of Russia, Bucky learns that touch can bring something more than pain and he will willingly give himself over to the ice if it means keeping you alive.

☼ Drunk On You

⭒ Bucky has always been nervous around you. When he’s tasked with caring for you after a night of heavy drinking and suddenly you’re kissing him, Bucky doesn’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly want him sober, right?

☼ Honey and Chamomile

⭒ Four cups of tea, four distinct moments in time, and each pulls you in closer beyond the walls surrounding Bucky’s heart.

☼ Suburbia

⭒ Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.

☼ Eclipse

⭒ When a mission leaves you empty and broken, Bucky is determined to heal the wounds that linger deeper than the cuts on the surface.

☼ Back to Bourbon Street

⭒ When you’re badly injured on a mission, Bucky works desperately to keep you alive. Only, it might not be enough.

#marvel #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #“ass or tits?” bro A METAL ARM #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #tfatws #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #“i can change him” bitch why #hes a perfect menace to society and i love that #sebastian stan #mob!bucky #mob!au #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky x reader

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puppetmaster13u · 22 days

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Prompt 284

“Oh little storm,” the being cooed, hands that are both large enough to crush the world yet small enough to hold his face gently running through his hair. He was being held by lightning, by stars and space and everything in between, cradling his form like he was something oh-so precious. “A surprise to be sure,” the being crooned, purred, rumbled, cracked, some noise of the depths of space mixed with something indescribable. “A surprise, but a welcome one.”

Billy had never felt so small, yet so loved, like the world itself was holding him against its heart as the whispers of the gods bled away in something akin to awe. The being smiled, distant storms letting loose and ending droughts, even more distant stars bursting into being. “A little marvel of existence,” they hummed, hissed, cooed, whistled, hair- or strands of galaxies- melding into the abyss around them.

“A surprise son. A child of the Cosmos. Yes.” He was held so gently, space itself dancing and flickering around him, suns pressing hundreds of freckled kisses against his head. “Welcome home, little storm. Welcome home, my son.”

#DCxDP #DPxDC #Prompts #Cosmos #Primordial Triplets Cosmos Clockwork & Chaos #Primordial Triplets #What is a galaxy but a giant storm of space and stars?#Yes this means Marvel is now cousins with Phantom & Klarion #Billy is now the child of the Cosmos Itself #Billy just wanted to see if he could fly out of the atmosphere #Fuck it Billy deserves a Byakku tiger #Give him a celestial star tiger buddy #Danny is Not Ghost King he’s baby Space boi adopted by Clockwork #Klarion: Why am I the middle child of this generation #billy batson #dc captain marvel

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celaenaeiln · 8 months

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thinking about some quotes i’ve read and i wanna hear your thoughts on them because i have a lot and i don’t know what to do with them.

“the day Dick Grayson turns evil is the day the universe ends, not because that day will never come but because the boy will make it come”

“Dick Grayson isn’t the universal constant of good. Dick Grayson is the universal constant of competence”

“So, having said all that, it is a few but definitely significant words that fill the contingency plan on Nightwing in case the hero of Bludhaven ever turns to the dark side. Let's hope that never happens.”

YESSSSS

“the day Dick Grayson turns evil is the day the universe ends, not because that day will never come but because the boy will make it come”

This is the truest fact I've ever heard because this is really canon.

Word for word this happened.

In one of the canon timelines Clark laser blasted Bruce under mind control.

And oh how Dick took over. You know what Luthor says?

"After all, as I've heard your father [Dick] so often quoted, 'we make the hardest decisions for those we care about the most.' Well, in his case...that has meant remaking the world."

This man has the power to single-handedly control the fate of the world.

Whatever he wants, he will make it happen.

The entirety of the justice league, all the metas, heroes, and villains too stood no chance against him.

DC vs Vampires

“Dick Grayson isn’t the universal constant of good. Dick Grayson is the universal constant of competence”

I think it's true.

Nightwing is one of the most formidable figures in DC, without fail consistently coming out on top, so if Superman is iterating that Dick's personality and essence of being is the same, then there's really no room for disagreement.

But more truly, I think he is a Nexus.

By Marvel's definition, "Nexus Beings are rare individual entities with the ability to affect probability and thus the future, thereby altering the flow of the Universal Time Stream. These beings, each referred to as a nexus, act as the keystones of the Multiverse and are crucial to its ultimate coherence and stability."

That means that the universe hinges on the actions of Dick Grayson.

Not only does he control the fate of the world but his mere existence determines what will become of it by other people:

I'd like to reiterate that Neux Beings are "the keystones of the Multiverse and are crucial to its ultimate coherence and stability."

You can still be a nexus if you turn dark. For example Lore was a dark version of Wanda Maximoff but she is still considered a nexus. So you're right in saying that Dick Grayson is a multiuniversal constant of competence.

In the easiest terms as someone put it, "hope he fucks up" is Bruce's only contingency plan against Nightwing. The man doesn't have a clear plan how to neutralize Nightwing.

His exact words are: "As a result of overanalyzing any situation, this allows Dick Grayson to overconfident and misdirected. This will make himself open to a second attack."

So the plan is basically 'Dick is too smart for his own good so we'll have to go with a lucky surprise attack.' He's literally saying 'yupppp. Let's just hope he messed up because there's nothing we can do on ouR end.' Note that Bruce doesn't even have a back up like 'the second attack didn't work? we're fucked.'

For everyone else he actually has a coherent plan in mind- do this and they will fall. But for Dick? 'I hope he messes up enough for a second attack to actually stick. Otherwise we're shit out of luck. And lives. Fingers crossed he doesn't jump to the bad side.'

Tim also confirmed he would never make a contingency plan for Dick. The only person in the world he wouldn't do one for.

He's just that formidable of a man. Even now he can easily take down the Justice League if he wanted to.

And we know that Dick has one of the strongest wills on the planet.

"I have my enhancements. I have powers. Dick Grayson...what do you have?"

A world where Dick loses his emotions is a world that would not survive.

#canon #dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #clark kent #superman #midnighter #batfamily #dc comics #thanks for the ask!#tiger #cl anon asks

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punkpandapatrixk · 4 months

Text

🌟Blessings to Expect throughout 2024 ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

‘You’re always here. What are you doing?’

‘Nothing…nothing in particular.’

‘You’re Saibara’s grandson, right? Aren’t you working at the Blacksmith shop?’

‘I’m not interested in that. I want to go back to the city.’

‘Oh… I came from the city, too. My dad moved the family to this village because he was going to study plants. I felt lonely at first. But the people here are all very kind.’

‘I don’t feel lonely. But I can’t find what I want to do in this village.’

‘What is it you want that you can’t find here?’

‘Well, it’s…oh, nothing…’

‘My mother always says that if you can’t find what you want to do, then do what you can see to do now. Nobody finds what they want immediately. But if you waste your time every day because of that, you’ll never find anything... To tell you the truth, I haven’t found what I’m looking for yet, either. See you.’

— Mary and Gray’s conversation from Harvest Moon: Back To Nature

SONG: Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Judy Garland

MOVIE: The Wizard of Oz (1939)

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Pile 1 – Welcoming Love, True Love

VIBE: Ready for Your Love (feat. MNEK) by Gorgon City

end of a struggle – King of Swords

You’ve been incredibly and marvellously responsible for…quite a number of years, I think? For some of you maybe a couple of months or so. But your struggles have ended; nearing ending; or you just haven’t realised yet how everything has changed for the better now. If you take a moment to really notice yourself, I’m sure you can tell just how much clearer you’ve become about many things pertaining to your surrounding and sense of Self. I feel you’ve worked really hard to overcome excessive trauma noises that have caused you a great deal of psychological pain.

Starting this year, you can feel more confident in your intellectual capacity to gauge situations right in front of you. Making choices will be a lot easier now because you’re clear about who you are as a person and what it is you truly want out of your own existence. You’ve clearly set enough boundaries with those who didn’t have your best interest. Seems to me you’ve learnt the hard way to be more selfish in the spirit of self-preservation. And so, the adventure of a lifetime begins right this moment.

In fact, I feel like your entire Life up until this point has been quite the adventure—only it has been filled with sorrow and misery, sorta. Surely it was your Hero’s Journey taking shape for the early chapters of your Life’s Story. A slow burn of a lifetime, if you will. Beginning this year, you’re entering the most exciting part of your rise to glory and everlasting happiness!

in your favour – 8 of Pentacles

You’ve been hustling behind the scenes for the most part. At least, those who aren’t close to you will never know just how much work you’ve put into bettering your world from the inside out. You worked so much on your mindset; you must’ve exercised a lot, too; tried to eat more cleanly and healthily; worked on your glow-up; brushed your skills; etc. You were investing in yourself for the future vision you’ve always held close to your heart. And for that reason, the seeds are now blooming.

You’re making me think of the bamboo plant. Did you know that a bamboo seedling takes around 5-7, maybe even 8-10, years to gestate underground? All alone in the dark without anyone knowing what’s going on down there. And when the seedling shoots up to the surface, the bamboo plant is famous for being the fastest growing plant there ever is.

So yeah~ fast or no fast in your mind, the point is that you’ve done the work on yourself and all the plans you’ve ever had for your Life. This year, 2+0+2+4=8, is the year you reap all the rewards and grow even faster from where you are now. Whatever undertaking you begin this year will gain traction super fast! Pat yourself on the back because when things get super good, you deserve to take a small break and just enjoy how far you’ve come~! Breathe~

catching stars – Page of Wands

Your Story is totally far from finished. With the Page aenergy—a kid’s aenergy—you’re only on the precipice of entering a Life of passion and purpose. You could almost say, it’s a new Story altogether just because this chapter of your Life is SO SO SO super good in comparison to the chapters about your struggles. I guess you’d call this a new arc huehue

You’re young Hercules now. Pretty soon, there will occur some big event that propels you into a bona fide hero, and then, you’ll meet your Megara~ This part of your Story is where you enter a circle of true—at least truer—friends and lovers who will motivate you throughout the next chapters of your Life. Sure, sure, struggles don’t just end, poof, like that and you will continuously need to learn to sift through these new breeds of friends and acquaintances. But that’s also part of your next level growing up, so don’t sweat the possibilities XD

Throughout 2024, you could be moving to a new environment and then meet new friends. Highkey you’re gonna be meeting Soulmates and Soul Fam members; these are the people who resemble you so much either on the inside or outside. These are people who think like you, care about the same things as you; basically you’re gonna finally feel like you truly belong somewhere on this Planet. Love is in the air because you’ve been giving so much Love to yourself before this point. You are Love. You emanate Love wherever you go because you love yourself, and thus you become a magnet for people who also will love you just as good~

APPLE STRUDEL🔻💛

honey lemon juice – Silver Magus (Merlin)

have a sweet time, honey – Priestess of Love

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Pile 2 – Rising Up to Accept Yourself Wholly

VIBE: She Said from Kamikaze Girls

end of a struggle – Knight of Cups

You’ve kinda just gone through a death of a paradigm of sort. I feel that in the past, you simply didn’t really know who you were or what you were meant to be. This confusion of an identity was caused by your parents/caretakers not really appreciating you for who you were as a child or it could also be caused by your environment, race, culture, custom, tradition, stuff like that. It wasn’t your fault, you know. You literally grew up on your own and finally got clear about your own identity—you stopped caring if your real identity is too weird, too eccentric for this world.

Basically, you got tired of rejecting yourself. And you realised that you were doing that because you knew others wouldn’t accept you. Then you realised people are shitty and lame for the most part anyway, so you learnt to be OK with embracing all of your weird heart’s little desires. And you nurtured yourself and nurtured yourself until you rose above the lameness of most of Humanity. Did you know? You did the right thing, really. Through and through.

You’re definitely an Advanced Soul. I think even when you were a kid you always felt like there was some spirit/shadow parental figure walking behind you, guiding your thought processes. This older/bigger unseen figure was really just your own Higher Self, you know :D More than others would give you credit for, you’ve been such a good gal/boi for always listening to the guidance of your Higher Self~

in your favour – 3 of Pentacles

Beginning this year, you’re going to finally meet people who are similar to you. Similar as in, you’re going to meet a lot of colourful characters, really. People who also feel somewhat like society’s outcast. These people are going to come from various backgrounds and they will each have very interesting back stories and life experiences that will entertain you for a long time. These people could also have very strange, unusual hobbies that will spark your interest in new, alien pursuits.

With that said, this year could be the year you begin a new passion project of your own, with these people, new friends, you share a vision with. They do care about you and want to succeed together, so you can trust that these connections are going to bear sweet feelings for you. Most importantly, this year you’re going to know the sweet feeling of doing something meaningful with your natural talents born out of your innate interests. When you finally get the money, you will first and foremost taste gratitude from those who seem to love and enjoy what you do or have to offer~

Life really is getting better now because you’ve mustered the courage to explore your possibilities in all your eccentricity. Your Higher Self never meant for you to fit in anyway. You were always meant to be some sort of a genius trailblazer—a source of inspiration for the other lameass Humans who are too afraid to be themselves.

catching stars – 10 of Pentacles

What more can be said? On top of embracing yourself fully, loving yourself wholeheartedly, and meeting kindred spirits, you’re also going to gain a massive amount of money! Life’s always good when you have a lot of money! More money means a happier heart and more to share as well. But in your case, if you’ve chosen this Pile as your main pile, know that before a lot of money even trickles into your reality, it is the sense that you’re serving your Life Purpose what will make you feel rich.

After all, there could people reading this who came from a wealthy background and you may think you don’t crave or even care about money. Exactly. You never cared about a lack of money but didn’t you struggle with grounding yourself to this Reality because you didn’t know what you were put on Earth to do? This ‘10 of Pentacles sense of abundance’ encompasses a sense of material abundance that feels deserving; you can now feel worthy of getting paid for some passionate, incredible, show-stopping contribution you’ve made to society. Isn’t that such a wonderful feeling?

Some of you reading this could mend some broken bonds with family; some others could finally find a tribe—a Soul Family—and feel that you belong; some could start a family of your own with someone worthy of your high-grade affection. Congratulations~! You’ve really made it this far~ Things can only get better and better from here♥︎

APPLE STRUDEL🔻💗

honey lemon juice – Green Historian (Herodotus)

have a sweet time, honey – Priestess of Patience

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Stepping On the Pedestal of Destiny

VIBE: Cheer Up, Charlie from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

end of a struggle – King of Pentacles

If you’ve chosen this as your main pile, I just know it that you’ve been working so hard on yourself, on a level that’s practically incomprehensible for most people. I’m sure you’ve survived so many deaths of the spirit—and perhaps even some of the more dramatic attempts. And you’ve come on top of your misery now. You’ve gotten healthier and clearer about where you’re going next. I sense sometimes you still doubt yourself but it isn’t a sin to doubt, it’s just a sign that you want to do well. And on so many levels, sometimes you’re afraid because you genuinely want this dream/vision to happen to you.

I assure you with this reading that you’re on the fast track towards a rendezvous with Destiny. Fast…is honestly relative to each Soul’s blueprint tho XD Time is on your side and what’s meant for you can’t miss you. So chillax, OK? One thing to know about this great dream/vision of yours is that you’re going to see it manifest because you’re different from the rest. Different in that you want to see it manifest to be of service to the rest! When you really think about it…

Don’t you just know from deep within your Soul that you’re deserving of this great destiny? It’s because you’re going to serve a massive purpose with it! So many people would benefit from your realising this dream. And that’s the very thing! You’ve been holding on to this vision, and you want it, because you’re MEANT for it.

in your favour – 4 of Cups

I’ll be referencing the 1971 ver. of Willy Wonka here. And honestly, I think you should watch it by the weekend or something because that movie’s whole vibe will feel tremendously validating to you, I sense hahah

Have you heard of the theories that say Charlie was literally singled out by Willy Wonka from the very beginning? That he had chosen all of those horrible brats because he wanted to punish, oops, teach them a lesson, and that principally he had been watching Charlie and wanted HIM to inherit the Chocolate Factory. If you watch the 1971 film you’ll literally get it! And with this 4 of Cups, know that that’s how the Universe feels about you stepping into your destiny. Willy Wonka, or God idk, doesn’t want anybody else but YOU to fulfil this role~!

You’ve literally been chosen and singled out by the Universe to win the grand prize! Just so you know, as I’m typing these words I literally have the Willy Wonka movie playing on another window and as I typed ‘grand prize’, the person in the movie is saying it right at the same time at around the 19:11 minute mark. Things can’t get any more synchronous than that!🤯

This year, you’ll really see how every single thing is going to work out in your favour. And knowing the inner work you’ve done on yourself, I’m sure you’re spiritually mature enough to sense, to notice every small nudge that tells you what you need to do at a given time😊New adventures are just around the corner, baby~!

catching stars – 5 of Pentacles

So you see, how is 5 of Pentacles appearing for a segment about you catching stars? This is, in fact, reaffirming that your dream come true will also serve as a salve for those who are wounded and hurting. You really are a medicine for this sick world. This year, you’re going to see serendipitous events and meetings what will open the door towards the physical manifestation of your dream Reality. Once you step on to the pedestal of Destiny, there’s no stopping you. You’ll be moving so fast it drives you mad!

This card is also saying you must be careful of possible leeches coming towards you; it’s best to use caution and discernment when revealing to others your plans and goals. Be stingy with information as per your gut instinct’s nudges, OK? Be mature enough to know not everybody will be happy at the prospect of your massive success that could potentially change Mankind. People get envious of such ideas, alright? Be careful not to hit the already low self-esteem of some people around you LMAO

I also feel that this year you will begin new routines that benefit your health and physical strength. If this is something you’ve been working on, you will see this year that the implementation of these routines feels more natural and effortless. You’ve managed to master your thoughts, emotions, and time management—or soon to do. Money will also come more abundantly, so all your basic needs are easily met. You’ve become a magnet for good luck—or soon to notice you’ve done so!🍀

APPLE STRUDEL🔻🧡

honey lemon juice – Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

have a sweet time, honey – Priestess of Innocence

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

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f1byjessie · 4 months

Text

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part five.

You’ve never actually been to Monaco. It was one of the few Grand Prix you’d had to miss. Logan’s retelling of how it was had been slightly skewed by disappointment and frustration at his less-than-stellar results that weekend, but his descriptions of everything had still painted a picture of lavishness and excitement in your mind, and you’d been dreaming ever since for the chance to experience it yourself.

You’re here now, and even just the view from the plane had lived up to the hype. On the ground, it’s enough to leave you breathless. The deep blue water of the Riviera glitters with the golden glow of the afternoon sun, the mountains stand tall off in the distance, and the grand opulence of the city makes you feel like you’ve stepped foot into a whole new world.

You’re not unfamiliar with the lifestyle of riches and luxury, but Monaco is on another level entirely.

Lando, the reason you’re here in the first place, appears beside you. On the ride back to his place from the airport, he’d caught you marveling at the marina and had pulled off onto the side of the road to let you get out and take a longer look. The boats look like miniature cruise ships, sleek and elegant where they rest in the water, swaying gently with waves. It reminds you, vaguely, of back home.

“Ready to go?” He asks, fiddling with his keys.

You spare the marina one last glance, then nod and turn on your foot with the knowledge that you’ll be here for a week longer still and will have plenty of time later to take in the view as much as you want.

Lando’s house, when you arrive, is just as expensive looking as the rest of Monte Carlo.

The exterior is expertly landscaped and maintained, with hedges perfectly trimmed and flowers flawlessly pruned. It’s slightly lacking in regards to the personality you imagined Lando having. His car is personalized and his wardrobe is a look into who he is, but the outside of his house looks… normal, for lack of a better term. It’s beautiful, nonetheless, but it’s simple all the same.

When he opens the door, you take it all back. The interior screams Lando Norris. It’s extravagant in a way that mirrors what you know of his personality, but it’s comfortable. You’ve been to homes that look more like show houses, where the furniture seemingly exists to be viewed but not used, and all the decorations are vague and impersonal enough to fill blank space and do little else. This is the opposite.

There’s a blanket folded haphazardly over the arm of the couch, and mismatched pillows. On the coffee table is a half-empty bottle of water, a book with a scrap piece of paper hanging out from the middle, and an opened pack of batteries. There are pictures on the walls in mismatched frames— friends and family and achievements from throughout Lando’s career that tell a story of his successes and proudest moments.

It looks like a real home. When you tell him, he laughs.

“With how little time I actually get to spend here, you’d think it’d be the opposite,” he comments.

He helps you bring your bags up to a guest room and then gives you a tour of the rest of the house. Letting you ask questions and answering them sincerely.

When you’re back in your room, unpacking your clothes, it occurs to you just how crazy all of this is. You know Lando, but you haven’t known him for very long. Your friendship has only developed over comments on social media, texts, and the occasional phone call over a few weeks. But you’re here, across the ocean in a country you’ve never been to before, spending a week in his house just because he asked you here and offered to help you with your love life dilemma.

Your life is beginning to feel more and more like a movie, and all you can do is hope it has a happy ending.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, and 31,871 others

yourusername a pretty girl with a pretty car in a pretty city

view all 3,832 comments

logansargeant think you might need to get your eyes checked bc all i see is a pretty car sooo

↳ yourusername you have six days. run. hide. i don’t care. but enjoy your time while it lasts

↳ logansargeant i’m telling mom

↳ yourusername she can’t save you now.

user STUNNING STUNNING AND STUNNING 😍😍😍

user all three things i don’t have

user WE NEVER GOT Y/N IN MONACO DURING THE SEASON BUT I AM LIVING FOR IT NOW

landonorris *prettiest

↳ yourusername you’re only saying that cuz it’s your car

↳ user yea we definitely missed smth cuz wTF IS THIS 👀

user lando up in here stealing oscar’s girl

user OSCAR COME GET YOUR GIRL

user is she in monaco??? with lando??? 👀👀

user mclaren boys fighting over the same chick was not on my bingo card

user i need these men to make up their damn minds like bffr first oscar and now lando??? bros get it together pls 😮‍💨😮‍💨

user i think we should stop speculating about the relationships between real ppl bc they’re adults and can do what they want, plus they could just be friends and ppl saying they’re together could make things awkward for them

↳ user nah they’re totally together

“The comments are going crazy,” you tell Lando, staring down at your phone and scrolling the long chain of comments beneath your most recent post.

Some are supportive— people who knew you before your brother got involved with Formula 1 and don’t care about the drama, or they’re other models you’ve become tentative acquaintances with after years of working in the industry. Some are speculative, wanting to know if you’re with Lando, what happened between you and Oscar, theorizing about fights, messy breakups, and revenge rebounds. Some, however, are just mean, calling you a slut for leading on two guys at the same time, or a bitch for ruining their imaginary chances with their favorite driver.

You wouldn’t claim that you’re used to this type of negative attention, but you’re not unused to it either. So much of your job requires a social media presence and with your life in the limelight as a byproduct of both Logan and Dalton’s own very successful careers, you’re no stranger to internet trolls and people who are vicious just because they can be.

That doesn’t make some of the comments hurt any less.

“None of them matter,” Lando answers from beside you, his eyes focused on the road. “It’s just people who don’t know what they’re talking about.” He recites it like it’s something he’s had to say hundreds of times before, and it occurs to you that he probably has, to himself if not anyone else in his line of work.

You’re sat once again in the passenger seat of his car as he drives you back to his place. The streets of Monte Carlo at night are dazzling and even more beautiful than in the day with twinkling lights and a raging nightlife scene, but you’re distracted still by your phone, checking and rechecking to see if there’s any hint of Oscar in your notifications.

There isn’t.

It feels like a dismal ending to what had truly been such a lovely night.

You’re in a gorgeous dress, in a gorgeous car, in a gorgeous city, with a man who’s fun and relaxing to be around, who doesn’t make you feel like a side piece or arm candy, and who is genuinely a friend to you. You went to an amazing restaurant and ate some of the best food in your life with some of the best company, got slightly tipsy off of wine you didn’t have to pretend to enjoy for once, and it’s only the beginning of your time here in Monaco.

But rather than enjoy what you have here in the present, all you can think about is the one thing that would make it that much better— Oscar.

“Maybe I should just give up,” you mutter, finally turning your eyes away from the screen. “He probably kissed me, realized he wasn’t interested, and the reason he hasn’t brought it up is because it was all just a big mistake that he wants to forget.”

Lando makes a sound that you’re not quite sober enough to place. “I think the only way you could know that is if you talked to him.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “that’s not likely to happen any time soon.”

He makes another sound, but you’re too disappointed to really pay it much mind, and by the time he’s pulling into the garage you’ve forgotten all about it.

He helps you out, ever the gentleman as you’ve learned tonight, and then you’re following him to the door, trying not to let your bad mood ruin things too much. You’re still incredibly grateful and appreciative to him for helping you so much despite not having known you very well when it all began.

“Seriously, though, Lando.” You speak up suddenly, just as he’s about to open the door. “Thank you for doing all this for me. Even if nothing comes of it, I’ve already had a lot of fun and you’re a good friend.”

All he does is offer you a smile over his shoulder, before pushing the door open.

When you step in through the doorway after him, you’re momentarily confused by the luggage waiting in the entryway. For a split second, you think you must have left some of yours down here, but then you look a bit closer and realize that it definitely isn’t yours.

There's movement from your peripherals as someone in the living room stands from the couch and crosses the distance to the entryway's threshold.

“You’re back earlier than I thought, Lando—” you snap your head up in surprise just as the voice cuts off.

You stare at him in shock. “Oscar…”

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal

━━ a/n: tada! i have the rest of this fic entirely planned out from here and i am so excited to get to the juicy parts finally! hope you all enjoy!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #social media au #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant #alex albon #lando norris

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shadesoflsk · 4 months

Text

LULLABY FOR A BROKEN HEART

pairing: Leon Kennedy x Gn reader.

summary: After a mission, Leon musters up the courage to ask for one thing he's always wanted.

warnings: hurt/comfort, a bit of angst, fluff, Leon is touch starved, no consumption of alcohol but there are mentions of it, injuries, mentions of trauma.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: Hello! So... I had prepared some dad leon headcanons but after reading DI manga latest chapter... I knew I had to write something about it. I wrote this with a platonic relationship in mind but you can also see it as an established relationship! I just wanted an excuse to write about Leon because he is literally an angel ueueueue. He deserves the world.

masterlist

With heavy and wobbly steps, Leon’s blurry vision—from the lack of sleep— could make out the frame of your door, your apartment’s door. A part of him knows that he may be a burden—or that’s what he believes. Fatality, sorrow, and overall bad outcomes are the only things his mind can register.

He doesn’t want to bother you. Hell, he doesn’t want to speak to anyone right now. The fact that he somehow made it safely to your front door was enough for him to know that you would be so angry at him. You shouldn’t drive after a mission. You shouldn’t—... let yourself die. He knows all those phrases by heart.

He’s getting better. He’s a lot better, to be honest. He no longer drinks, but he may as well look drunk right now. His head was hurting like hell, but he blamed it on his mission. He’s getting too old for that shit. But, a healthy improvement doesn’t mean that he can’t fall.

Recovery isn’t a straight line of betterment. There are nights when he can sleep like a baby. But then again, some days, he goes to sleep knowing that a nightmare may attack his dreams.

His fist bangs against your door, at first trying to be quiet. But after a few seconds, some desperation came within his knocking, and a louder sound filled the already silent night.

The melancholic feeling of being alone lasts a couple of seconds before he hears some steps inside your home, those get even closer until he sees the door opening. The sight he admires before him is far from comforting. The eyebags under your eyes, your disheveled hair, and the quiet yawn that escapes your lips say it all, you were sleeping.

At first, you don’t say anything, letting the silence in the air fill the lack of response from both parts. Yours and Leon’s, two souls that are aching right now but for different reasons.

Leon, who is hurting because he doesn’t want you to see him like this. And yours because you’d give him the world just for him to stop blaming himself. Ironic, but in reality you’re two sides of the same coin.

Amidst the countless things you want to tell Leon, you step aside allowing him to enter your apartment. The one he knows as his cozy getaway. His second home. The first one is your mere existence.

Physical things last no more than a few weeks, months, or years. Everything is doomed to cease existing. He has witnessed it through the years he has worked as an agent. Those gigantic and marvelous houses politicians love to brag about? A bomb would destroy them. That motorcycle he loves? Yeah, that one…. No more than a few pieces remained.

But the simple fact that you were alive and breathing meant so much. He wasn’t a stranger to death. He knows that he has become desensitized to those topics as much as he denies it. But even if someone were to die, their proof that they belonged to this world would live in those who loved them, those who were close to them.

And that’s why you’re his home. The kind of home that served as a refuge when life got too much, when life stopped basking him with its sunlights but rather sent him a blizzard. Your presence was enough for him because you granted him the affection he has long forgotten he could have.

As he enters your apartment, the normalcy and everydayness of the living room embrace him like a thick and warm blanket. The usual smell of your scented candlelight also brings him back to the reality where he could feel safe.

He’s alone for a while, you let him sit on your couch even though he might stain it with the dirt on his pants and whole body. You don’t exactly care, you can clean it after.

His eyes are unfocused as he waits for you to come back. At that moment, the memories of his last mission came to his mind. They don’t haunt him like they used to do in the past, where he decided to stop the voices from getting louder by drowning in alcohol.

Now, they replay in his mind like a Deja Vu, like a movie he was the main star in. However, it doesn’t mean they stop stabbing his heart knowing that he had taken lives.

He used to be a religious person. Right now if someone asks him if he follows a certain God, he would respond with a simple no. But when he sees the bodies of those whom he had to kill, he would offer a silent prayer, asking whoever hears him that their souls could rest in peace.

Leon kills, but he’s also a lover of life. He loves the world and its people. He wants to believe that he'd be reminded as the one who fought for those who couldn’t, even if he didn’t want to be associated with that type of job.

In his mind, it may sound corny but he has started appreciating the simple things in life. The way someone would smile at him in the supermarket, the way a random stranger would greet him even though they don’t know him. It was a nice reminder that he was, in fact, alive.

Your steps break the silence—once again. In your hands, there’s a first aid kit.

There’s a certain urgency in the way you sit next to him to treat his wounds. Your eyes never leave him as you try to make sure that nothing is hurting him. Even when he has awoken you from your sweet dreams, you’re the same caring and compassionate person as always.

An alcohol swab touches one cut he had on his temple, a bruise already forming on the skin. Proof that his head was literally slammed against a metal tube. Not his proudest moment, if he had to be honest.

“I’m not going to break, you know…” Leon finally speaks as your hand seems to slightly shake out of fear of bringing more pain to him.

You manage to let out a chuckle at his words. “I know. But I’m not taking risks.”

His eyes continue to remain fixated on your face, like a puppy who is looking at a treat. But rather, he’s like a homeless man admiring one of the prettiest houses he has ever seen.

There are no questions asked, nor complaints about anything related to his late-night visit. He appreciates the fact that he’s welcomed no matter what. Nonetheless, he can’t help but thank you for your hospitality.

“Thank you.” He murmurs as you clean another injury that was just above his eyebrow. “You’re too good for me.” Leon's words show a moment of raw sincerity.

Leon’s humanity is palpable, even when he doesn’t notice it. There’s a childlike glimmer in his eyes when he watches his favorite movies, a hint of regret when he talks about his missions, and a big sense of empathy when he speaks about the victims who died at his hands.

Leon’s kindness knows no limits. And you wish everyone could observe what an amazing human he is.

“Why is that?” You asked, scooting closer to hear him better. To pay full attention to what he’s about to say. There’s nothing Leon loves more than knowing he can really talk with someone about his feelings since he has mastered the art of closing off.

“For this…” He admits as his hands gesture your first aid kit, to your apartment as a whole. “I’m not used to being… pampered like this. I get hurt and I fix myself up.” His expression darkens slightly.

“Well… I’m here, aren’t I?” You give Leon a warm smile before pinching one of his cheeks making sure not to touch any of his cuts. “You don’t have to be alone all the time, Leon. You can rely on me.”

Leon’s lips turn into a shy smile as you pinch his cheek. “Yeah, I know.” He’s grateful for your hospitality and overall care. But it’s hard for someone who has always been in solitude to think that it’s okay to rely on someone, that it’s okay to need a person.

He’s silent for a moment before asking a question that’s been nagging him for a while now. “But… Don’t you get tired of it? Of taking care of me?”

You instantly shake your head, responding with a blunt “Nope, never.” In fact, you would be awake all night long just to make sure he was alright.

“You’re a God’s sent… I swear.” He chuckles as his gaze moves towards his own hands which are fidgeting. As if he was looking for something to grab, to hold onto.

He hesitates for a few seconds, he doesn’t want to overstep boundaries but then again… He’s not used to being touched let alone hugged. But right now… he craves feeling the tender and intimate affection that a hug brings.

When was the last time he was touched? He doesn’t remember. The sole thought of admitting it’s been months if not years that he hasn’t been hugged brings embarrassment to his already troubled mind.

You notice, you know Leon a little too well. You recognize every little quirk he has, from the way he sometimes sticks out his tongue when he’s focused on something to the way he looks at everyone before delivering a punchline.

But you wait for him, you want him to be comfortable.

As a sigh leaves his lips, he finally speaks. “Can you hug me?” His words come out hushed, as if ashamed of himself for asking something so… banal, so simple. “I really need it.”

The way he speaks, the way his voice suddenly cracks and the way his fingers twitch even more tell you enough.

“Come here.” You encourage him, opening your arms. He wastes no time getting himself closer and wrapping his arms around you. The kindness that you’re showing him could bring him to tears, but he doesn’t let them fall. Right now, he just wants to be embraced.

He was bigger than you, being an agent built his body to be ready to fight, to kill. Of course his muscles would basically bury your frame as he curls himself into the hug. But funnily enough, he feels like a kitten that found solace on a rainy day. He feels getting even smaller and almost disappearing from the catastrophes of this world.

He could easily rest his head on your shoulder. But instead, he decides to bury his face in the crook of your neck, feeling even more at ease in this peaceful moment. Closing his eyes, he lets the warmth of your body soothe his aching soul.

He always takes care of everyone, his mind and soul are connected to people he may as well never see again. He feels too much, he feels everything. Nevertheless, there are times when he wants to be the one being doted on, to feel safe.

And right now… he is safe.

“You may think I’m stupid…” His words are muffled as his face is pressed into your neck, his stubble ever so slightly brushing against your skin.

“I sometimes think you’re stupid.” You tease him, trying to bring some humor to the situation as you sense that Leon is starting to doubt himself. Your arms hug him closer, tighter. Letting him know that you aren’t going anywhere. “But right now… I think you’re the most amazing person ever.”

Leon doesn’t say anything for the moment. His breathing is steady and calm, drowning in your so familiar scent. His fingers caress the back of your head, touching your hair reminding himself that you were there, as if the hug wasn’t enough.

“You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever known.” You murmur, pressing a kiss on the top of his head. “You fight so much, you’re so important to many people. You don’t even know how much I thank life for having a Leon Kennedy next to me.”

Your words break his heart a little. Not because you said something wrong, not at all. But rather… he can’t imagine how his existence could bring happiness to someone. Chris, Rebecca, hell everyone has helped him a lot. But you are like an anchor which he clings to.

“Don’t feed a stray dog…” He tries joking, but his voice is barely a whisper. You’re used to his jokes. Most of the time, they are harmless and light-hearted. However, sometimes they served to hide what he was truly feeling. “They’ll always come back.”

“I don’t want you to come back…” You respond. letting your hand rub his back. “I want you to stay.”

And Leon is definitely going to stay, he’s going to stay with you and with everyone else. He will fight off every bioweapon, he will succeed in every mission. Just to come back to his home and to his life. A life he’s learning to love and enjoy.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil

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norrisleclercf1 · 11 months

Text

Bestfriend!Lando Headcannons

Hooking up with one another, you two don’t date each other, smutty fun stuff, Lando’s curls are his weak spot, bestfriends just having fun with one another

A/N: My dumbass deleted the ask for this, my apologies

Hooking up with your best friend was very stupid

Very very stupid until his tongue was on you, and his hazel eyes boring into yours

Lando and you don’t hide the fact that you both hook up with one another from time to time

Whenever the two of you are lonely or bored you text him asking him to come over

Of course you two don’t always hook up but travel the world together

He’s been your best friend for years so you always felt comfortable with him

He knows all your secrets, and you know his

Lando loved traveling with you, you were carefree

Never pushed him to talk about F1, and just let him explore his talents

That camera was always around his neck, half the pictures of you

Called you his little muse

When he’s home and locked away gaming you come over to bring him food and drinks

The occasional blowjob while he games loving the way he has to act normal on camera

Lando who will always come to your house no matter the time when you don’t answer his texts

You who pushes him to ask a girl out he finds cute even cheering when he gets her number

Neither of you caring when the other dates, you just stop sleeping together and continue being friends

People judging when they hear you two hookup and are still friends who see each other when the other is dating

Your relationship fell apart once due to it

The guy couldn’t handle that you weren’t in love with Lando

But he just threw it in your face saying you were, and that he wanted Lando gone

You laugh and throw his ass out instead

Lando coming over with beer and junk food

which ends with you riding Lando’s face as you cum so damn good you actually scream

Movie nights with you two watching marvel movies you making fun of some of the bad CGIs

Fangirling over Tom Holland

Lando making fun of you, because he’s meet him

He hates it when you come to races because then the guys like to hit on you

You flirting with Car,so, because Lando hates it so much which ends

With you in Lando’s drivers room while he fucks your hard against the wall

Asking you who is fucking you so damn good that you can’t speak

Apologizing afterward for getting jealous kissing your forehead

Both of you getting jealous from time to time

You even once told Lando she was with him for his money and dick

Lando snapping back saying that you’re the same

Fighting is normal between you two, not talking for a while

He shows up first

A horrible race, because he couldn’t stop picturing the hurt he caused you

You in his sweatshirt because you missed his scent around you

Hugging it out and cuddling while you watch trashy TV

Taking Polaroids of each other

Yours is of him after a late night fuck

Curls messy and eyes blurry he smiles, you keep it in your wallet

His of you after his first podium where you’re hugging the trophy and crying

Lando always carrying a pad or tampon just in case

Once he got a bloody nose and you shoved the tampon in his nose to stop it

Picture evidence exists when someone doubts the story

Lando bringing you with him when he travels, making sure you’re right there next to him

Having to stop when you get a boyfriend

Lando hates him, thinks he’s not good enough for you

When they meet, Lando is quiet and keeps to himself observing the way you two act

Dating the guy for 3 years, Lando missing you every second but dates himself

Both of you breaking up with your people, but yours ends with the guy cheating on you

Lando not knowing until a mutual friend tells him

Heading to your apartment, when you open the door

You’d been holding it together pretty well, having loved the guy so much

Yet, when you see Lando you break down

Holding you close as you sob into his chest

Takes you a while to get over the guy

Finally happens when your in Canada and see that Lando’s curls are perfect

The facial hair growing on you

You told him he looked like a teenager finally learning how to grow facial hair

Jokes you should give him your leg hair to make up for it

Slapping ensues

When he comes back hair wet, curls perfect, you launch yourself at him

He groans about losing himself with the way your tongue curls in his mouth, sucking on his

Fingers pulling on his curls, Lando moans loudly

You giggle, teasing him for it

Lando shutting you up quickly when he shoves his fingers in you and curls them

The sex, rushed and fast as you both mumble how much you’ve missed one another

Joining lando for his quadrant videos, the guys loving you

Giving lando so much shit that you become a hit on the videos

Being there when Lando is so frustrated with McLaren, having his heart broken over and over

Standing up for one another when “fans” hate on you

Rows of your tweets between one another being memes

Pranking the other drivers together

Becoming the 2nd honorary Sainz when Carlos Sr, loves how you don’t take shit from the guys

You’re not allowed near Zak Brown, because last time you yelled at him

Saying that Lando deserved better

As a joke once, you took a picture with Lando’s beach ball helmet

You stole it from the garage while no one was looking

Laid down naked and laid it right in front of your spread legs

He about dies when you send him the picture your tits on perfect display teasing him

Now has that helmet in his gaming room to remind him of it every time

Supporting you when you move to another country when you get a promotion

Texts of good morning and nights to one another

Family vacations and holidays together

Lando just wanting you to be happy no matter what

Secretly in love with you, but he doesn’t know that

You’re the same way

You’re both fucking morons who need to date one another stop being friends you pussies

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illyrian-dreamer · 2 months

Text

And Then There Were None – Part 2

Azriel/fem!reader

Synopsis: In the lead up to the war, Hybern releases a catastrophic spell that wipes out all humans, sparing just one.

Abandoned in the desolate human lands, you scavenge to survive long enough to find your family.

Reluctantly, you are found by the Shadowsinger as fate intervenes to guide you under his watchful eye.

<<<Part 1

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: Death, blood, suggestions of miscarriage, suicidal themes

You woke in a bed as soft as the clouds, the covers silken with feathery pillows piled beneath your neck so plush your hardly felt them.

A level of luxury you had never known could exist – and that’s how you knew you weren't home.

Vision a blur, the room you woke to was dim, safe from the fire that crackled at the opposite end. Your vision reeled as it took in the space around you - an obnoxiously large bedroom.

The haze lingered as you raised your hand in front of your face - a quick way to decide between reality or dream. If this were real, someone had done an awfully good job at scrubbing the dirt from your fingernails.

But then a familiar ache throbbed as you bought your other hand from under the covers, and a stark white bandaged wrapped tightly at your wrist. Real then, and that fae male had indeed broken your wrist. The scars from your journey were faint now, but still there too.

You felt for your stomach under the covers then, for any signs of your lingering ailment. They had changed you - thick cotton like padding within the fresh undergarment and the softest gown you had ever felt between your fingers.

You pushed the thought of who might have changed you from your mind. Healers - you hoped.

Your skin beneath the gown was soft and oily, and smelt of salve. The healers had done well to heal you. Good, this was good. It meant you had a chance to return home, continue your search.

Gods – the search, your family. You had to continue.

You were alone in this room, and it was night - all good signs. Perhaps with enough strength, you might slip be able to escape unnoticed…

With a slight dizziness, you swung your legs from the bed, toes pressing to the warm, rich wood - as if they floor was warmed from within.

You wouldn’t dare to poke your head out the door - not in a house of creatures with heightened senses.

The windows - that was your only option to remain unseen.

Whether it was the delirium of the events days prior or the haze of exhaustion you were yet to shake, you didn't consider escaping into an unknown lands in nothing more than a nightgown was a fools choice, mortifying at the least. But survival called, your family called.

Padding around the postered bed, you scanned quickly for your belongings . Clothes, waist belt, knives were no where to be found.

The cupboard was empty, safe from a long black coat made from the softest velvet your had ever felt. Tying the fabric firm at your waist, you didn’t take the time to roll the sleeves that drooped well past your fingertips - clearly made for a much taller, larger form than your own. Black was good, especially at night, helping conceal the silky cream night robe that seemed to scream find me.

If you had the time, you would have marvelled at the wall of windows - in shapes and sizes you didn't know a glass welder could blow. Arched in a row of three, each of them had smaller panes within - still large enough to fit through, and with latches.

Perfect.

You fiddled with the latch, the world outside dark and unmoving with no sign of light until you cast your eyes upwards. Fingers halting on the latch, your breath knocked from you chest as you observed the most brilliant array of stars you had ever seen.

Were these the same stars as the human lands? How was it that such magnificent beauty was concealed from your own part of the world?

Another stab of loathing for fae found you then – it seemed even the Mother was versed in reserving luxuries only for them.

The latch clicked open, and you pushed gently against the pane, the window unmoving. Frowning, you pushed again, before trying to pull it inside instead. The glass moved on smooth, oiled hinges - and that’s when the howling began.

As loud as a pack of wolves, yet that insistent noise was instead from wind.

Fretting at the noise, you glanced behind you in urgency. Any second now they would come, the wind as good as any alarm. So with a strong grip on the window ledge, you pushed your head through, eyes squinting through the unforgiving gales.

The wind almost knocked you, hair immediately whipping this was and that, eyes stinging with tears as you failed to see clearly.

Scanning as best you could, you saw no stairs of landings to climb to, no balcony from which you could hope to escape.

And then you looked down.

It was instinct to back away, so fast that the back of your head knocked against the pane, and a quick profanity escaping your lips.

You had never been so high up before. Never knew anything could be built so tall.

With a roll of your stomach, you forced your head back out, avoiding looking anywhere below the horizon.

On the far left, hidden mostly by brick, was a distant glow of a city, the lights warm and flickering with glorious life. And between you and it - a river, it’s water the blackest of blacks in the night, besides from the reflection of the city that budded it’s banks.

To your right - dark, intimidating forms of mountains and peaks. And with a quick flash below, far, far below, there was only night.

Your gut lurched both from the height and realisation - it was suicide to try and escape.

It took a moment to force your rigid muscles to push yourself back inside the room, hair strewn over your face and cheeks pink from the bite of the cold.

“We don't usually advise opening the windows here,” a melodic voice spoke over the wind.

Hissing in fright, you whipped your head behind you, to the most beautiful women you had ever seen. And beside her - the same blue siphoned male, his eyes aglow with hazel.

You fished for your voice then, strained in your throat from days of not speaking, the rush from the wind and the awe of what and who stood before you fighting for silence.

They were am incredibly handsome couple.

Folded clothes in her hand, the blond simply placed the outfit on a spare reading chair, moving lightly to re-hatch the window behind you. You almost sighed in relief as the piercing howling stopped.

“The windows are charmed to block out the noise,” she explained, her tone light and friendly despite the step of caution you took to distance yourself. “Well, don't you look good in black,” she perked, brown eyes scanning you, her smile sincere.

You looked down, the fabric of the coat drooping from your frame.

“I stole this,” you said dumbly, before cursing yourself silently.

The women laughed, and you could have sworn a slight smile pulled at the males lips too.

“That’s quite alright, besides, you were awake before I could deliver you some proper clothes,” she gestured to the set she bought in, but you were fixed on those golden locks, the way they bounced when she moved, and that dress…

“I’m Morrigan by the way, but you can call me Mor.” If she caught you staring at her, she did not let on.

You frowned, senses returning, and you scanned the room again. Formalities, names, nicknames –completely unnecessary, unless…

“I must carry on with my search,” you said sternly, eyes darting between her and the blue-siphoned male.

He knew. He would have told her.

Those large, towering wings pulled in tighter against his frame, and the male opened his mouth to respond. But Morrigon beat him to it.

“You’re awake much earlier than the healers expected. They advised you may need a few more days rest.”

You tried to hide your panic, eyes scanning her, then the door, then where Azriel stood between it.

Mor traced your eyes. “We are no threat to you,” she said gently.

You swallowed. “Then I am free to leave?”

Mor schooled her face into something softer, more sympathetic. “You may want to meet with out High Lord and Lady. I know they are eager to meet you.”

“Me?”

She nodded. “They wish to discuss your predicament.”

“Have they found my family?” you all but blurted, heart thundering with anticipation.

She shook her head then, her face falling more grave. “I’m sorry, I haven't any news.”

A gnawing at your stomach then - something was wrong. How long had they kept looking, had they found anyone?

“How many days was I-?"

“Four,” the male answered, hands still clasped behind his back. There was no smile on his face, but it remained soft.

“And up and about well ahead of the seven days the healers predicted! Quite the fighter you are Y/N,” Morrigan chirped.

You almost jumped at the use of your name. And then a scowl fixed on your face.

“My apologies!” More gasped quickly, and you missed the glare Azriel threw her way, Mor’s eyes meeting his with guilt. “Please forgive me, I forget that humans aren't accustomed to-"

“Mind reading?” you gritted, more exposed under the ridiculous ensemble of clothes you wore. You wish you could drown in the lengths of extra fabric.

Mor wore a broken smile. “Of sorts, yes.” She paused then, fretting to fill the silence. “Would you like to change your clothes? They should be to your size.”

You looked at the set neatly folded at the chair.

“The healers have washed you, but we can draw you another bath if you’d prefer?”

Your cheeks reddened at the question, the male’s eyes politely finding somewhere else in the room to fix that gaze.

Was this their way of telling you that you smelt?

Humiliated and frustrated, your eyes narrowed on the male. “What is your name?”

Hazel flicked back to you, and he took a moment of silence to observe you before answering. “Azriel.”

You eyed him up and down, taking him in fully. Tall, large, muscled - your attempts to stab him would have been laughable. Delirious indeed.

As he eyed you back, his gaze fixed your wrist, even while concealed beneath the velvet coat. “I am sorry to have hurt you.”

Civilised - far more civilised than you would have expected fae to be.

You cleared your throat. “Well, I suppose I’m sorry for my attempts of murder.”

His mouth pulled into a polite smile, the apples of his cheeks glowing in the firelight.

Mor chimed in then. “They told me you caught Azirel off guard, Y/N. Like I said - quite the fighter. Not just anyone can catch the Shadowsinger by surprise.”

Shadowsinger. As if at their mention, the furling, smoky shadows peaked from Azriel, and you let out a small yelp. It seemed it was your turn to be surprised.

Without a whisper of a word, they withdrew into the Shadowsinger himself, as if scolded back into place. Azriel gave no hint of amusement as he kept watching you.

Your eyes danced from him back to Mor, cheeks once again redening.

“This is… overwhelming,” you admitted.

Mor gave you a sympathetic smile, before placing a delicate, manicured hand on your shoulder. “A bath, then?”

You nodded, and she led you to the bathroom, candles lighting with the wave of her hand, and water now filling the marbled pool, steam quick to fill the room.

You forget about Azriel in the other room as Mor closed the door behind her, marvelling at the arches and architecture, a new set of large windows in this room, this time facing the city. You padded there mindlessly, watching the twinkle of the town that beckoned.

“Velaris,” Mor came to stand beside you. “Or, the City of Starlight. It’s location is well concealed, unknown by the other courts.”

You were reminded of the courts then, the brief lessons they had taught you at school. The divide of seven different courts, each ruled by a High Lord determined by their magic gifted the Mother and bloodline. Allies, enemies – it was complicated twining of politics and power.

But you had never heard of Velaris.

“This place is a secret?”

Mor nodded. “The true home of the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. A paradise they keep concealed, untouched by others.”

“Why?”

Mor chewed her cheek. “It’s safer this way,” she said simply.

“And you trust me with such information?”

Mor’s brown eyes warmed, but something sadder hid behind them. “It doesn't seem fair to lie to you about your own whereabouts.”

You nodded, eyes finding the city beyond again. “You mentioned the High Lord and Lady want to meet. Rhysand and Feyre?” Your head ached at the strain to remember their names, but the information found you.

Mor smiled at their names, and you remembered the way the males had too when they first found you. Loyalty coursed through them like some kind of magic. If you wanted to survive, you would be sure to respect their hierarchy.

“Morrigan,” you swallowed, bracing yourself for an answer. “Please, what do you know of the search?”

Mor stiffened, pausing for a moment. “The High Lord and Lady are on their way home to meet with you. They will tell you all they know.”

You eyed her carefully, your heart straining. “They haven't found my family, have they?”

Mor’s face of sympathy was beautiful, whether schooled or real. “I’m sorry, I really can not tell you.”

You swallowed once before nodding, eyes casting out to the city of Velaris, the name foreign in your mind.

“They are travelling as fast as they can, and should be here within a few hours,” she reassured. How or where from you didn't bother to ask.

“A bath then,” you nodded.

Mor smiled tightly. “Should you need anything, just ask. This house - the House of Wind - is just as alive as you and I. You should only have to speak what you wish.”

You nodded, hiding the overwhelming thought of a magical living house as the pool of warm scented water beckoned you with furls of steam.

“A fitting name,” you murmured, remembering of the persistent howl that waited just outside those obnoxious windows.

Mor grinned, catching your every word. “Isn’t it just,” she called and she fluttered from the room, pulling the large, carved door closed behind her.

You took a few moments of silence, again scanning the marble-splayed room you now found yourself in. Dream or reality, you were still yet to be convinced.

That was, until your dropped your undergarments, the thick wads of cotton stained with specks of bright, fresh blood. A saddened whimper escaped you, and your hands instantly found your belly, phantom cramps pulling from within.

You thought about calling for Morrigon, to demand an answer or to see a healer again. But deep down you knew, and that instinct to protect yourself, your privacy, was greater.

A waft of essential oils blew your way, as if the house was beckoning you to bathe. Toeing the water, each of your muscles seems to relax and steam clouded around you. An uncontrollable sigh left you as you moved deeper and deeper, breasts bobbing beneath the water, the muscles in your abdomen glad for the relaxant.

You had never had a bath like this, never indulged in such a level of luxury. Was this how all fae bathed, or just the ones so closely aligned with royals?

It was a jarring comparison to the tin bath in your family home, the steam quick to escape from the batches of hot water your mother boiled in the kettle when you were young. As you grew older, you would often forgo using the kettle, bearing the bite of the cold for efficiency, only treating the children when you bathed them.

A shock of panic found you as the pool dipped even deeper, and you shot from your toes back to the scooped edges of the pool, clinging to the edge. Obviously built for creatures much taller and larger than you, while you on the other hand had never learnt to swim. Not when your parents were so busy, and the creek behind your home merely ankle deep.

Bathe, change, and then you would have your answers - you reminded yourself. So you scrubbed with determination, dipping your head beneath the water and rubbing the pads of your fingers at your scalp too, washing away any remains of the taxing journey it took to get here.

You would start your search fresh, start anew, even swallow your hate for fae if it meant the help of the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. You could drink their wine and pass pleasant smiles if it meant they would aide you, if it meant your family returning home safely.

————

You looked at yourself in the mirror, the black tunic and pants gifted by Mor fitting better than any of your skirts and dresses back home. The fabric was soft yet thick, protecting you from the cold, even while the House of Wind seemed to warm from within.

There were slippers waiting by your bed, black also, and your skin seemed to glow from the oils from the bath. The face staring back at you was clean, yet tired, the bags under your eyes still a swell of purple. Forcing your shoulders back, you forced a stance of determination. You could do this, you could meet with the most powerful creatures of Prythian, and you would convince them to help you.

With a gentle knock at the door, a voice called. “It’s Mor.”

“Come in,” you answered turning from the mirror, hands finding the pockets on your pants.

Her eyes warmed at the site of you. “Black certainly does suit you,” she repeated, and you wondered about the comment from earlier. Loyalty to black, it seemed, was also a part of their strange culture. Perhaps something to do with the Night Court, and you wondered if the other courts found such ties to certain colours.

“Thank you for the clothes. I will return them once-"

Mor raised her hand dismissevely. “We’d hear of no such thing. Are you ready?”

You nodded. “Are they?”

“Rhys and Feyre arrived a half hour ago. They await you in their office.”

Mor seemed to want to take your hand, but rethought it, and instead raised a palm to the door.

“Follow me,” she hummed before striding for the door, red gown trailing behind her.

With a deep breath, you followed in silence.

————

“Here she is,” Mor cooed musically as she pushed the doors open to the office, the High Lord and Lady stopping their polite conversation with as they turned to take you in.

Your knees almost buckled under their gaze.

That power, even as a human you felt it from many steps away, steely blue and violet eyes seemingly pinning you to your spot. A heavy dose of intimidation overcame you and your body faltered, even though their eyes remained soft, their smiles friendly.

They both stood, Rhysand donned in a neat black suit, Feyre’s dark gown falling from her frame like liquid night. Gorgeous – an absolutely gorgeous sight the both of them were.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Feyre spoke, her voice and as smooth as Morrigon’s, yet younger.

“Welcome to our home,” Rhysand added.

Blinking between the two, your knees almost groaned as you forced a curt bow. “Thank you, High Lord and High L-Lady,” you stammered. “For your hospitality.”

You waited for any sign of compliance from your bow - knowing that fae spoke a language of hierarchy and formality.

But your were instead met with an informal sideways smile of Feyre. “Please, call us Rhys and Feyre.”

You nodded, although you couldn't see yourself respecting that wish.

“Are you feeling any better?” Rhysand asked, violet eyes piercing, refusing to leave you. “We were told you had survived almost a fortnight on your own. That is very impressive.”

You weren't sure you’d ever get used to the unblinking ways of the fae as you blushed at his compliment. Had their parent’s never taught them it was rude to stare?

The smallest of smiles tugged at Rhys’s lips.

But you muffled your thoughts, forcing yourself to answer. “Feeling much better, thank you High Lord. You swallowed tightly, fishing for the right words to say. “And to your healers,” you added with rush. “Thanks to them too.”

“I am glad,” Rhysand smiled, moved back into his seat and gesturing for you to do the same.

“I’ve informed Y/N that you would update her on the search for the humans, to explain your own findings.” You could have kissed Mor for steering the conversation, desperate to hear what the High Lord and Lady had to say.

Feyre immediately began fiddling with the fingers, before Rhysand took them in his own hand. You observed closely at the small interaction, Feyre’s nervous fidget, Rhysand’s immediate response. They seemed to speak na unspoken language.

Not good, not good, not good. Your nails instinctively settled into familiar wounds at your palms.

“Of course,” Rhysand answered, his beautiful features schooling into something more serious as his voice softened.

Feyre’s eyes found you then, something like regret and sorrow burrowed within. In that moment alone, their difference in upbringing was at contrast. Rhys - ever the schooled socialite, tamed and controlled behaviour from years of perfecting courteous mannerisms. Feyre on the other hand – human, child-like sincerity shone through despite her pointed ears and occasional glimpse of canines.

“I’m sorry to say that we have not found your family Y/N,” Rhysand said straightly.

You nodded, assuming that had been the case. That didn't stop the sting in your eyes, or lurch of you gut. You clamped your lips against the wobble that already threatened.

“The truth is, we haven’t found a single human since finding you.”

Instantly the room began to reel, Rhysand and Feyre tipping slightly as your heart skipped to an irregular thunder.

How could this be? You had been asleep for four days, between their armies and winged beings among them, how could they not find a single other? Your mind screamed a flurry of questions, but your remained stiff, only moving to grip the arms of your chair.

Rhysand sighed then, glancing once at his mate who’s look of regret only deepened, tears shining in those grey-blue eyes.

“It is with the deepest regret that we inform you we have traced a powerful magic from the lands of Hybern. A spell, rather.”

You forced your voice past the lump in your throat, past the bile that swarmed in your mouth. “What spell is that?”

Tears spilled from Feyre’s eyes, whatever control she had on her breaking into unmistakable grief.

No, no don’t say it - your mind screamed.

“As spell to kill all humans,” she whispered.

You blinked. And the others watched, waiting.

You blinked a few more times.

"What did you say?"

Rhys's frown was pained. "It seems Hybern was intent on capturing your lands, and used a magic so strong it expelled humans..."

But Rhys's voice grew muffled as your vision narrowed, clouding with darkness.

And then it hit you.

It was as if someone had pulled the floor from underneath you. The room tipped unforgivably, vision blurring and stomach lurching with the lack of food in days.

A broken noise escaped you.

“Y/N, you must breath,” a voice spoke.

Panicked, laboured breaths wheezed from you, and you clenched your eyes shut past the horror of what they had told you.

Meek breaths passed your chest as you tried to speak. “I don’t-how, I don't understand.”

“Hybern has access to the cauldron, and we believe he used it to seize the territory of human lands.”

“It worked then, then spell? They’re gone?” You voice was hoarse, breathy with distraught. Tears had not found you yet, only an overwhelming dread laced with a flicker of denial.

Even while the room danced around you, you caught Rhysand’s tight nod, his face grave and solemn. “We are so sorry.”

Mor’s hand was gentle at your back, as an all consuming anxiety took over and you clutched at your head.

“Please do not touch me,” you rasped, audible wheezes catching in your throat.

Immediately her hand lifted.

“Dead, then,” you swallowed another rise of bile, raising frantic eyes to Feyre.

Broken eyes locked with yours. “I’m so very, very sorry Y/N” she whispered.

“My family, my siblings? Dead?”

She was crying, but you didn't care. You waited for the answer. All she offered was a nod.

A broken, crazed laugh found you then. It was a cold, lonely thing, and you caught Mor exchange a look with her High Lord. There was nothing they could do except watch as you ran shaking hands over your face.

You were trembling, eyes dancing frantically. No. No no no. This was unbelievable. You didn't believe them, you refused to.

“Impossible,” you scoffed.

“We wish it were, Y/N truly,” Mor said softly.

“Then pray tell, how it is that I survived?”

“We’re perplexed by you remaining, Y/N. We have no answer for it,” Rhys offered, a tanned hand stroking at Feyre’s back in practiced comfort.

“Liar,” you snarled, standing so quickly your chair fell back.

Liars - the lot of them, to tell you of the extinction of humans when you sat there alive and well in their home.

Rhys’s eyes pinned you, as if expecting your outburst. “I can’t begin to imagine your grief Y/N, but we tell no lies.”

“I don't believe you,” you spat, hands curling into trembling fists. “You wish to keep me here, to trap me!” Anger rose within you. Typical fae tricks and fibs, that's all this was.

“I would have thought the same thing if I were still human,” Feyre coaxed, wiping at her eyes. “I don't blame you for not trusting us. I truly wish we were lying.”

Something in her sincerity knocked you, cracking at your anger, demanding you to consider their words true.

But your shook your head stubbornly, crazed by their audacity, distancing yourself from the devastation that loomed underneath.

“I will not stay here and listen to this.”

You heeded for the door, pulling on the handles with trembling hands, only to find that blue siphoned male waiting on the other side.

Azriel.

His arms were neatly tucked behind his back, legs wide and ready as if waiting for you.

If only you had your knife.

“You will let me leave,” you all but growled, eyes darting from behind him back to his frame, looking for your way out. He bore no weapons this time , but it wasn't as if he needed them.

Azriel’s eyes softened. “I can’t.” His voice was soft and steady. “It’s not safe for you out there.”

Your fists clenched tighter. “I don’t care! I will not sit here prisoner, I need to find the truth for myself.”

You made to step around him, but those rippled hands gripped you, from the shoulders this time.

“Let go of me!” You struggled against him, but his grip remained strong.

“Listen to me. Hybern has sent an army and they sweep the human lands as we speak. I saw it for myself – if they find you, they will kill you.”

The integrity in his voice, deep down you knew he was telling the truth, even if you refused to believe it. Because believing it meant you had lost everything, everyone. It meant the cruelest punishment from the gods - not another day with the laughter of your siblings, the caress of your mother or hold from your father. No home, no love, no warmth - just a bobbing existence, with grief as your only friend.

Perhaps that’s why you started sobbing, still trying to pry Azriel’s hands from you with his own.

“I don’t care, I don’t care!” you cried, voice breaking as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. “I want my family!”

Azriel cast a worried look back to the others who could only watch with pained expressions.

Mor sprung into action, fetching a blanket from a nearby room.

“You are liars, territorial murderers, the lot of you! How could you let this happen?” your voice was hoarse once again, your knees buckling as shock took over.

Azriel moved with you, gently bringing you to the ground as you wept, your legs folding underneath.

The blanket was strewn around you gently, Azriel’s touch surprisingly tender. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice a strangely soothing balm against your turmoil. "I wish things were different. But your safety is paramount."

You wanted to fight against it, to push and claw and burrow in the bubble of denial, but you hadn’t any energy left.

Waking to an empty home, to empty streets, days of travel without another human in sight – perhaps you knew all along that this nightmare was real.

The room continued to spin as reality sunk in. Your family, gone. Your siblings, so young, so innocent. The humans wiped clean from the world. A full scale genocide, and you were the only one to survive it.

"They were children," you wailed, your words a harrowing cry. "They were only children."

Injustice, isolation and grief was leaden on your chest, so constricting and heavy you thought you might die.

“I-I can’t breath.” One palm braced on the wooden floor, the other against your heart as you began to pant. Eyes darting between the fae that watched on, you clutched at your chest, panic swarmed with bile.

And then you made sick.

Azriel's grip didn't falter, and someone moved to pull the hair from your stinging eyes.

"Try to focus on your breathing, Y/N," a voice coaxed in your mind, male or female you couldn’t tell. "In and out, slowly."

But the air felt thick, suffocating, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on you. Each breath seemed to be a struggle against an invisible force, and panic tightened its grip around your heart.

That voice in your head again. ”Just keep breathing," it said gently, the voice cutting through the haze of your panic. "Focus on my voice. You're safe here, I promise."

The words were like a lifeline in the storm raging within you, and you clenched your eyes shut, clinging to it.

Rhysand approached cautiously, his expression a mixture of sympathy and sorrow. "Az," he prompted, and the male raised from his knees.

Rhysand crouched down in front of you, his gaze unwavering. "We'll explain everything after you've rested Y/N, I promise," he said, his voice carrying the weight of truth.

And as the room slowly ceased its relentless spinning, you found yourself clinging to that promise, holding onto the hope that amidst the devastation, there was still a path forward, however uncertain it may be.

The world outside was dangerous, filled with uncertainty and threats you couldn't begin to comprehend. And Hybern. He had killed your family. Your siblings, those sweet innocent children who you loved so dearly. Your parents too.

Sobs wracked through you again, your body giving out as you let out a muffled whimper of grief.

Strong arms slid from under you turning you over to cup you by your arms and knees. And then you were being carried, away from that horrible scene, from the mess on the floor where your world came crashing down.

You clung to whatever you could, the blanket, Azriel’s shirt, you didn't really care – but you clung and cried. Even when you were again met with the softness of a mattress, even when the weight of the duvet being drawn over as it settled against your skin.

In that tumbleweed of devastation, a rippled hand soothed you, coaxing you to sleep. You gladly let it, letting the horrors of the world slip away, even if only for a moment.

“Just rest now. You are safe.”

And with a final thought, you sent a prayer to the Mother to not wake up to this nightmare.

A/N: Hey pals, thank you so so much for the love and support of Part 1!! I sincerely hope you liked part 2! <3 <3 Now would you like some fries with that angst? Because it'll only get darker from here. Again, I'll tag everything I can at the top of the fic, but please have a look at the warnings ahead, I would hate to hurt anyone <3 <3 If you'd like to join the tag list for this fic, drop a comment! Thank you so much for reading, mwa!!

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druigs-wife · 1 year

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IN AMADO || NAMOR X FEM!READER

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE || ONE SHOT

summary: after months of separation, namor visits and shows you how important you are to him.

warnings: MINORS DNI, smut, penetration (mxf), oral (f&m receiving), slight angst, wakanda forever spoilers

word count: 2.2K

A/N: translations: in yakunaj ~ my love, in lool ~ my flower, in reina ~ my queen, in amado ~ my beloved

Every six months you and Namor meet on the beach nearby your house. It was already your tradition. No matter how much he wants you to come and live with him in his kingdom and be his only, it wasn't possible.

Yesterday he didn't show up for unknown reasons, as you two had agreed half a year earlier. You did the same as the day before, you sat down on the soft sand in the light of the full moon and patiently waited for your beloved one to come to the surface. Seconds, minutes and hours passed. It was midnight and there was no sign of him. He was never so late. Something must have happened. What if he was hurt in some way? What if you won't see him again? With those dark thoughts a single tear ran down your cheek, but you wiped it immediatly. He could give at least some sign that he is okay, that he is safe and that he still loves you. Why didn't he do that?

It was getting colder on the beach. The waves in the Atlantic Ocean were getting bigger and the wind stronger, sweeping your hair back. Your body started shaking but you were stubborn. This time, you won't let go and keep waiting, even until the dawn. You got up from the ground and started walking towards the cabin where you lived to take a blanket with you back to the beach to cover yourself and warm up. However, as you turned your back to the ocean, you heard a familiar and calm voice.

"In yakunaj, wait..." you immediately turned towards him and looked into his cholocate eyes. At a distance, you could sense that he felt guilty.

Without overthinking, you started walking faster towards him. Thanks to his wings he reached the sand and opened his arms where you found yourself a moment later. He could only hug you even tighter so that you wouldn't be able to run away from him.

"I thought something happened to you. I was losing my mind." you got out of his grip and cupped his wet cheeks in your hands. Your gaze traveled all over his face, but you couldn't find a single scratch. Namor just remained silent and watched you. "You should have let me know you weren't coming, give me a sign, anything." you started shivering more from the cold, he noticed it and started rubbing your arms to keep you warm. "I was worried."

Namor was acting differently than usual, as if something was bothering him. He looked at you with great sadness and regret, but also love and care. You've known each other long enough that you could tell when something was wrong.

"(Y/N) you need to warm up, you're trembling." you nodded slightly, he put his arm around you, and you went home together.

You sat on the wooden floor by the fireplace covered with a blanket and stared at the bright flames. A few moments later, you were awakened from your trance by the sound of creaking panels. Namor joined you, holding cups of something to drink in both hands. He brought you hot tea and for himself only water. He sat down next to you that your bare knees were touching. For the next hour he explained exactly why he hadn't visited you yesterday. The whole world can learn about the existence of the Talokan. You knew how much his kingdom and his people meant to him. Everything. So you weren't surprised what next steps your beloved one would have to make to keep it all a secret from the greedy world.

"Tomorrow morning I will sail to Wakanda with my entire army and put an end to this war." you stared at the already empty cup while listening carefully to what Namor had to say. "I can't let anything happen to Talokan..." he took the cup from you, put it on the ground next to him and wraped your palms together "...and I can't let anything happen to you." you looked at him and a small smile appeared on your face.

"I'm not a threat to them, they don't even know I exist, do they?" he nodded slightly, "So what are you afraid of, in amado?" he smiled gently at the nickname. Only you could call him like that. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

"I'm afraid that through this stupid war I might lose you, that they can take you away from me, just as I took their queen from them." you sighed heavily amd closed your eyes, leaned a little forward that your foreheads touched.

"And what about you, hmm? Will you come back to me safe and sound? Nobody knows about us... I won't know if you survived or not." you said. You didn't get any answer for the next few moments. All Namor did was leaned back and placed a kiss on your forehead and then on your temple. He put his arm around you and came closer to you than before.

"I give you my word, when I am done with this, I will come to you as soon as I can." Namor gave a few more kisses against your temple. "But if... if anything happens to me, you'll find out just as quickly. You have my word in reina." you looked deep in his eyes. His promise was everything to you at this point.

You finally decided to get closer to him. The tips of your noses touched gently, and your lips was only inches apart. Finally Namor brushed yours hungrily but tenderly. You felt like you hadn't seen each other in ages. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his various necklaces. He, on the other hand, began to run his hands over your hips, waist and higher. As the kiss grew more passionate, you pulled away from him to catch your breath.

"Will you stay with me?" you whispered in his ear and brushed it lightly with your lips. The very gesture made Namor shudder. It was his sensitive point. Taking the opportunity that your neck was more exposed, he didn't waste a single moment and started peppering her with kisses, leaving tiny hickeys on it.

"Only if you want it." your foreheads and eyes meet again. You both were breathing hard. "Do you want me to stay?" you nodded immediately. "I need words in lool." before you spoke, you touched his left ear with your fingertips, then slowly took off his earring and set it on the floor. You did the same on the right side and put your hands on his chest keeping eye contact.

"Stay. Stay with me." Namor smirked broadly and kissed you lovingly, but you quickly broke this gesture because you wanted to get rid of the rest of the jewelry that he didn't need at the moment. With slow movements you removed the necklace after the necklace from his neck. He just watched your every single move carefully. Next were the arms, one jewelry on each of his biceps and on both forearms. You had to move away from him a bit to be able to take off the next ones on his calves "accidentally" touching the wings at his feet. They were also his sweet spot. Namor groaned softly at the contact. He needed you. Right now.

He rose a little and grasped your thighs tightly to be able to lift you up from the floor. Once he was standing on his feet, you wrapped your legs around him on the way to the bedroom. Namor kissing you passionately placed you carefully on the edge of the bed. This time it was he who took the initiative. He began to remove parts of your clothes from you, revealing more and more of your skin. You only stayed in your panties. Without taking his eyes off you, he got up from the bed to take off the last parts of his clothes. He threw his belt and shorts on the floor, freeing his cock and climbed on you again. He kissed your neck and sucked it alternately covering it with hickeys. For a few seconds you felt his cock brush against your thigh. With every second he was getting lower and lower. After a few moments, his lips were on your breasts, he worshiped every inch of your body. He started caressing your nipples, making circles around them with his tongue and sucking them as well. You were already a moaning mess, but you still wanted more. You wanted more of him.

You ran one hand through his black hair, and the other you placed on his shoulder and dug your nails lightly into him. He moaned against your breasts and began to go down. He placed wet kisses on your belly, until he finally reached your thighs. He adores them, so he also left a few hickeys and love bites on them. He looked up at you.

He reached for the fabric of your panties with his fingertips, they were already wet. Namor was waiting for your permission.

"Please..." you moaned softly. With one smooth movement, he pulled the last part of your clothing off you and your whole beautiful body appeared in front of him. Namor was enjoying this view as well as the first time he saw you in all your glory.

"May I?" he asked politely being inches from your folds, putting one leg over his shoulder for better access to your entrance. You felt his warm breath against your skin.

"Yes, in amado. Make love to me, please." at these words Namor immediately began to lick the wetness from your folds, teasing your clit with his nose. You rolled your eyes back at the sensation and lay down completely on the freshly laundered sheets as he dived deeper into your pussy while he was on his knees.

You missed this and couldn't wait to suck his dick until he goes wild. You groaned loudly as his tongue was slightly higher on your wet and aching clit. You were so close, but you wanted this moment last forever, so you tense your muscles and dug your nails into his hair. Namor brought his free hand to his mouth and dipped two fingers in his saliva, then sliding them inside of your pussy. When he felt that you're close, he began to curl them in your sweet spot, to which you replied with more uncontrollable moans of pleasure.

"Cum for me in yakunaj, let me feel you" at his filthy words you came so hard that you arched your spine and your body was shaking with the pleasure your beloved just gave you. When he cleaned your folds, he climbed on top of you and placed a long kiss on your lips. You could feel your own taste. Namor pulled away from you and then you touched his cock and started pumping it slowly.

"Let me worship you, my king." taking the opportunity that he didn't pay enough attencion, you turned the both of you that he was now on his back and you were on top. You did exactly what he did to you. "K'uk'ulkan..." you sighed marking every inch of his body, you slide lower and lower until your mouth was on the tip of his cock. You took it in your hand pumping, licked off his leaking precum and sucked gently on the tip. He propped himself up with his hands so he could see what you were doing to him. He groaned softly and closed his eyes with the excess of pleasure. Namor put his hand on your head and started fucking your mouth. At first he kept the pace that you set, but with each passing second he was closer and his thrusts became faster. When he felt that he was about to spill his cum inside your mouth, he stopped his movements as well as you.

"Up, in reina. Up." you did as he told you to. You stood up and pressed your lips together in a passionate kiss. Namor moved you with his arms to make you sit on him. You've been waiting for this moment for a long time. His wings began to flutter, brushing against your bare skin. You touched one with your fingers and Namor let out an innocent groan. You weren't admitting the thought that you might lose him. He directed his cock towards your entrance and in one move he was inside you. You both moaned loudly. You wrapped your arms around him, and he took your nipples in his mouth again and savor them while thrusting his cock against your g spot.

When Namor was making love to you, it felt like it was your first and at the same last time. He was rediscovering your body, every inch of your soft skin, your reactions to his actions, and your beautiful sounds again. Everything was perfect.

You have never believed in what the other people have said about him in legends, because what he is like right now, in your arms, fascinated by all of you, is a complete opposite of what is said in all those fairytales.

When you both reached your climaxes, you lay down on the bed together, Namor wrapped his arm around you tightly, and you put your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat. Until you both fell asleep in each others arms, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear and rubbed your nude and soft shoulders.

"In k'áatech, in yaakunaj.

Teech le in yóok'ol kaaba'."

"I love you, my love. You are my whole world."

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

#namor #namor x reader #namor x fem!reader #namor x y/n #namor x you #namor x oc #k'uk'ulkan #k'uk'ulkan x reader #namor the sub mariner #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #black panther wakanda forever #wakanda forever #black panther fic #tenoch huerta #namor imagine #namor smut #namor x reader smut

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devnmon · 20 days

Text

too sweet. || a.m.

a/n: heyy ok i know you guys have probably seen enough of the fics with hozier songs but i also love him and when i heard this track the minute it was released, i was like oh yeah this is arthur morgan core. if ur bothered by me writing this then i say that is simply your problem ngl. in the case that you are reading this, it's just a silly little blurb that sums up arthur morgan in the eyes of the song too sweet by hozier !

wc: 632 | warnings: mentions of smut (that's all)

Arthur Morgan was never an early bird. In fact he despised it. Most times he did was only during a hunt, when he woke smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze. You– you were different; completely rising before the sun rose like clockwork. While you always told him never to stay up till the sunrise, he did, arrogantly, anyways.

He was amazed at how you were so easily able to exist in a world that fought against you– not only in the gang, but as a woman. Drunk on life you seemed to be, Arthur would say, while he took his whiskey neat. In his bed at 3am many nights, he took pride in getting to lay next to you when the slower moments came to pass.

You kissed him in the early mornings when you rose, lips still tasting of the previous night's wine. The sweet morning greeting of your lips had him praying for you to lay with him longer. Arthur was lovesick and kept you wherever he went; whether that meant drawings of your from across camp, or your name written with a heart next to his on a different page. On the off chance he gets back to camp early in the mornings before you wake, he leaves you the most exquisite trinkets for you to remember him by.

It's not often he must stay out of camp for longer than a couple days, but when he does, he returns with a heartfelt apology that takes place in your shared bedroll, begging you to accept his apology with every praise. Your touch has been ingrained into his mind, body. and soul, and yet– it burns his skin every time. Each press of your lips and swipe of your tongue over his skin.

He's so goddamned lucky you've let him at your body long enough to know how well his melds with yours like putty. You're the cream he voids from his coffee– because you're too sweet for him. You're too sweet with your sweet lips like heaven's gate, and Arthur is marveled at how you let him of all men kiss you.

The natural beauty you walked around with every day made Arthur seethe with envy at the fact that other men would gaze upon what was his. Most times when you clock his jealous stares and frustrated grunts, it's instinct when you immediately reassure him that you're not going anywhere.

His frustration is released among his true aim towards the spots on your body that make you mewl and call out his name like a mantra. It boosts his ego through the roof like a rocket when you respond and intertwine your soul even more with his.

When he's free from the constant back and forth from camp and jobs, there's a rare moment where Arthur dedicates two or three days to only you. He whisks you away to an expensive hotel, and uses his every power to bring you a new kind of ecstasy when he shares the bed with you. Arthur never wants you to think he doesn't have time to spend on you; he proves that any moment he can.

At that point, he'd gladly die between your thighs just to hear the wanton noises of carnal desire you feel for him and only him. He's seen so much pain in the world, that he's astonished someone like you can be beautiful and perfect so naturally.

You're the sun he wakes to every morning, the contrast of the heat during the cool rainy nights. As sweet as wine and the grapes it has been made from; he'd wait forever to taste your kiss again as long as you were there to ease the aches and pains.

Until then... he'll take his whiskey neat.

#ryesff #devnmonwrites #devnmon writes #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan blurb #rdr2 fandom #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction

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flordeamatista · 2 years

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𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙈𝙚

pairing: soft dark!professor andy barber x reader

concept: Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: possessive Andy, hair pulling, dom Andy/sub reader undertones, age gap , edging, fingering, fingering, oral (f receiving),pussy slapping,manipulation — soft dub con to be safe but reader is excited, power imbalance, dumbification, praise, Professor kink, reader sent a nasty email to Professor Andy, Sir kink, dirty talk, spanking, size kink, rough sex, blowjob, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, nickname- (love, princess, slut)

a/n: @sunshinebuckybarnes Now, have fun daydreaming hehe. Thank you for that beautiful ask.

the cute gif and moodboard made by me

line divider: @s-tarksintern

lovely betas: @writing-for-marvel, @purpleshallot and @beach-daydreaming

Masterlist

His path leads you into the darkness of blue but all you can see is the fire of desire

After he picked you up from the bar, you were cold and he was lustful, so it wasn't your fault.

As soon as you decided to go out, have a little fun, and were two tequila shots in, you sent him an email in the bar telling him that his grading system was terrible. You totally deserved that A in his human relations class and he needed to be more knowledgeable about the world. You were required to take Professor Barber’s class to finish your degree, and in doing so everything changed for you.

It was Andrew Barber who gave you your new warmth and moans.

Now, who do you break your rules for?

"Professor Barber..."

You turned your head, your lips hovering over Andy's. Your heart raced as you stared into his blue eyes. The normally bright blue shade darker than you’ve ever seen; nearly black as his pupils were blown wide with lust.

"Did I tell you that you could talk back to me, Princess?" He whispered, his voice grating your senses like gravel.

You shook your head lightly, feeling that you had just dug yourself a deeper hole. Now that he has read that email, he was picking up the pieces.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

"Turn around and read the email back to me," Andy commanded. Compliant as if you were sitting in his class, your eyes drifted away from him to the laptop sitting atop his kitchen counter.

Your email glared back at you, taunting you :

Subject: Fuck You, Prof. Barber.

The courage and vitrol that fueled your desire to give Professor Barber a price of your mind was astonishingly absent as you stood in his kitchen with his chest pressing against your back. Instead, seeing it filled you with dread and fear for what he may do to your academic career. Its heat pressing against your skin filled you with a desire you never knew existed, much like a coin has two sides.

Suddenly, you’re taken aback by the sensation of his hands sliding down your arms, then back up, enough to make goosebumps erupt across your skin, and for you to take a sharp breath.

You read the first line of the cursed email out loud, your voice wavering as Andy’s body heat intensified against your back. His reflection a shadow staring at you through the laptop screen. You bit your lower lip to stem the tears that had begun to gather in your eyes, looking at the keyboard leaving your face raw and exposed to his punishment.

Andy wave his hand through the sweater and rubbed his fingertips against your nipple, and gently teased it. You felt your skin tingle in a frenzy of static as he pinched them.

A simple squeeze left you feeling as if your body was falling apart.

As the warmth from Andy's center propelled you into overdrive, your tongue stroked across your lower lip. Andy laid light kisses over your neck, his fingers coming closer as he neared the center of your warmth.

In the palm of his hand, Andy swiped his thumb up, caressing the smooth skin with his fingertips. In the blink of an eye, he pulled back his hand and took your chin in between his fingers. He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, his lustful eyes stared into yours. Andy pressed his lips against your ear, and growled, "Repeat what you said in the email."

Nervously, you swallowed.

How could you be so stupid to send him that email?

It wasn't your intention, but his grading system was out of date and he needed to fuck someone off to let his grumpy state see the light.

"Repeat what you wrote to me, word for word...don't make me ask again."

The thudding of your heart echoed in your ears. Each breath shook in your lungs.

You mustered the courage you felt when you wrote the email and repeated, "Professor Barber, your way of living is sad, which explains why you are divorced and lonely—”

You paused.

Andy took his hand off your chin, gliding down your neck to the collar of the sweater. Pulling the collar away from your neck, he buried his teeth in your neck. “Did I tell you to stop reading?"

It was a new, fresh pleasure to wince in pain.

"N-no, Professor," you said shakily.

You felt Andy’s hand leave your neck and follow the curves of your body, stopping only when it rested on your inner thigh. A tingle zinged throughout your body as Andy pulled your legs apart and revealed your lace panties that were soaked from your dripping cunt.

"You insulted me, Princess," Andy growled.

Your lips curled into a soft moan as your eyes closed. Andy's eyes glowed with lust, his grin widening as he placed his palm on your wet pussy, forcing the lace aside to feel the wetness that was his.

"Look at you," he beamed, “I've barely touched you and you're so wet for me."

You lost control from the the warmth of his hand that rubbed your wet pussy. You believed that you would stand your ground and he would change, but you were ── in his house, in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, half-naked- and his touch destroyed your strong aura as an independent woman.

"You've been such a little tease all semester." He reached down to undo your lacy underwear, taking them off without any effort.

Was this an exam of desire?

"You are such a-"

Your insult cut short by a harsh slap.

The harsh smack against your throbbing pussy left your body shaking, and you learned, in that moment, that he was holding the strings to your desire.

"I don't hear you reading, Kitten." Andy’s voice slithered through the fog like a siren to a pirate.

But, instead of reaping your reward from a Professor knocked down, you walked willingly into his trap.

The second smack made your entire body tremble and your knees wobble.

"Are you getting quiet?" he smirked. When his hand smacked your throbbing, wet center again, your fingernails dug deep into the counter.

Your voice quiet, you continued, “Your methods are ineffective, and no one is warming your bed with the ridiculous sweaters and ties you wear to hide your life and I bet your co—."

Trying to maintain your composure, your nails dug deeper into the counter as your body slowly reacted to the sudden change in events; as if you were stuck in molasses. One moment, you’re filled with a righteous indignation at his grading system that fueled your deep desire to have him know what you really thought of him and his course with no thought as to the consequences of your actions as you pressed “send” The next moment, you are at his house, bent over his kitchen counter. You haven’t the faintest clue how you got here, your mind filled with nothing but thoughts of Andy.

You are sober but drunk with desire. His desire. His attention.

You wanted to know how far this would go when you felt his touch. There was no doubt that you lied, but Professor Andy was a man.

A man who just needed you.

With ragged breaths, you tried to calm yourself, but your body rejected your silent plea for self-control as you fell back against his chest. Andy's fingers sped up, and as you trembled and instinctively tried to close your legs, you knew it was not possible to regain control from Andy.

"Mmm, Princess, let's talk about what you said about my manhood," Andy said softly as his lips met your cheeks, a soft kiss that contrasted with the strong smack he employed on your swollen clit.

In spite of your pleas for him, he ignored you and slowly inserted his fingers inside your body while he laughed at your squirming. With each movement you made, he slapped you again and again. Your moans were all that was heard and the feel of his fingers inside you with a slap to keep your mind from wandering.

His disciplined approach keeps you motivated and hungry for more as he leaves his mark on your body

"Princess, you deserve to be tortured the same way that you've tortured me all semester." Andy said as he swiftly pulled his fingers out of you., Your eyes widened as he licked your juices off his thick fingers before turning you around to him. "You taste delicious and all dripping for me"

You gasped at his sheer strength, trying to push back against him.

Andy held you down with his free hand as adjusted himself behind you. Knowing what was likely to happen, you moaned at the sound of his belt buckle rattling.

“Professor…”

"I won't leave you unpunished." He snapped his belt, making you shiver with arousal. "You don't want to be expelled from university because of your actions, now do you?"

“No, sir I will do anything” you pleaded as his fingers edged your heat.

You screamed when he landed a stronger blow to your pussy before you could say anything further.

“Please…” you cried. The sudden intrusion of his middle and ring fingers in your body caused you to scream in agony as he didn’t allow you to adjust.

A steady rhythm of his fingers blurred your vision as you felt yourself edge toward your end; to the abyss of your orgasm.

“Oh, my God! Sir...” you cried. "I- I'm going to cu-cum..."

You were right there, right at the precipice of ecstasy.

Andy ripped his fingers out begrudgingly and pulled you back from the edge of your orgasm. You squirmed and slowly cried out his name from the absence of his touch.

"I'm not going to let you off that easy, honey", Andy said condescendingly. He spanked you hard on your ass, then pulled you by the neck to stand straight.

“Take off the sweater, put it on the floor, and get on your knees.”

You have taught me more about myself in your presence and reflection, his slut

Andy smirked and gripped the back of your neck, “What was the line you said about my cock?” You let out a soft moan when you saw his cock up close and immediately opened your mouth to let him use it.

Andy stroked your face with his free hand as he rubbed his cock's tip along your lips. "It’s time for you to learn your place and respect me,” He slapped your face and shoved his cock in your throat.

Tears fell from your eyes from the sudden intrusion in your throat.

You felt the heat between your thighs increasing and wanted to please him. You enjoyed the gagging sensation his cock gave you in the back of your throat. You preened as you felt him tense up and his dick swell in your mouth.

Your ability to think clearly and to resist anything he did to you was gone. You were intoxicated s by his size, taste, attitude, and your own arousal. Your hand drifted between your legs to touch yourself at how hot it was.

Andy took a deep breath and tugged at your head, controlling your movements, your head bobbing down toward him when he saw your hand wander down your stomach. He pulled out of your mouth and pulled you upright by your hair.

He smiled down at you as he reached down to grab your legs. He lifted you into the air, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he carried you to his living room. Despite your behavior, the soft kisses on your hair remind you that he cares for you and that you are his princess.

The smell of his skin lingers on my body, and I crave more.

The soft cushions of his couch bounced when you landed. As he stripped off his clothes and got down on his knees, his lustful blue eyes stared at you like a predator.

"Look at you lusting for me," he groaned. "Want to see what my tongue can do for my slut's pussy?"

He leant in as he listened to your desires, blowing soft air, inhaling your scent, and rested his nose on your pussy.

His tongue came out and almost hesitantly licked your clit.

“I'm sorry for— the , please let me--” you moaned and grabbed hold of his hair, fists clenched tight. It was his tongue that reminded you he controls everything in your body. His beard burned your pussy and tickled your entire being. He gave you punishment so easily, you knew it wasn't even close to the end.

You knew his game of seduction.

You moaned as you wrapped your body around his cool lips, and a smirk appeared on his face as he marked your legs beneath his fingertips and watched your breasts move with his rhythm.

“Andy, I’ve been so good for you, please... I promise I will do anything you ask of me, please fuck me up.” You cried, desperate to feel him.

The chuckle on his face was accompanied by a lick of his lips. Your hips jerked in anticipation of another kiss, but he stood away from you instead. In his hand, he spat, briefly stroked his cock, and then moved closer to your pussy.

“Oh, aren’t you so desperate for me?” Andy leaned over and roughly kissed you. You could taste yourself on his lips as you tried to pull his tongue closer to yours. You were his needy little slut

The tip of his cock teased you as you pleaded for him to fuck you.

“What makes you believe you deserve this? ”

“Please…” you begged.

"Well... " he said as you groaned beneath him. "Since you asked so nicely, and I respect desire"

Despite your squeal, he pushed steadily inward. While working in your cunt, he groaned with satisfaction, knowing he would be the only one to touch it.

He pulled his hips back and, for a moment, you thought he was pulling out, but the next instant he slammed his cock deep, pounding hard against you. You squealed out your wants.

Andy stroked your pussy passionately, fucking it deeply. When your pussy squeezed Andy's dick like a fist, he knew you had the tightest pussy he had ever felt. "Look at your pussy welcoming me in, it is so good, damn it is so good, do you feel it" he groaned in your ear as he leaned forward to grow louder and louder as he rapidly thrust into the pussy as he knew that the cunt was meant to be fucked hard, fast, rough, and deep.

It was a blissful feeling as your hardened nipples scraped against his chest while he rocked against you in response to each grinding thrust. "It feels so good, Sir...don't stop."

Andy bent down to capture your lips,pushing his tongue down your throat. “You are my new fucktoy now. Your only responsibility is to warm your professor's dick whenever he needs it, right? I will never stop fucking you, my princess. "

It was a struggle for you to respond as Andy thrust hard and fast into your sodden hole, moaning softly while unable to reply, "Yes, Professor.".

Putting his hands around the top of your head and linking his fingers, Andy rammed you down brutally using his own hands to hold you in place.

"My pussy, my princess," Andy whispered with every thrust as he slammed his cock in you, planting sloppy wet kisses on your jawline.

A deep expression filled his face as he gazed into your eyes. "Who are you?"

You couldn’t answer him. You wanted to tell him you were his slut and his only. Your vision spun as Andy dragged out your orgasm. Feeling as if you might pass out, you dug your nails deeply into his back.

Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.

The sweater was a reward for pleasing, and a punishment for looking gorgeous with it on.

You sat in class, and awaited the professor's arrival. When you got a text message saying, "My sweater fits nicely on you and let me see my pussy," "you opened your legs so he could see it.

To know what is his, he needs to see it.

In front of you, Professor Andy was licking his lips and getting ready to begin his class.

Your ragged breath fills the air as I savor every drop, because we both know the fun is only just starting.

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