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theemporium · 7 months

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The Monaco Grand Prix had been a fucking trainwreck.

It was meant to be their weekend. They had been doing so well all weekend. They had been topping the practice sessions. They had been putting in fast laps every session. They had managed to secure the front row after qualifying.

They had done everything right, and yet it still wasn’t enough because Ferrari fucked everything up in the way they always did.

Between unnecessarily long and unprepared pit stops to bad strategy calls that left them fighting other cars in old, used tires, it was a fucking shit show and the boys just wanted the race to be over so they could forget about it. They wanted to cross the line and get unnecessarily drunk until the race was nothing but a blip in their memory.

And that was the plan for the night when they arrived at the club, until they saw you.

Your relationship with the Ferrari drivers wasn’t exactly conventional nor easy to explain. You don’t even know how you could explain it to someone, because to an outsider looking in, it seemed anything but equal and fair.

It started long before either boy really joined Ferrari.

When Carlos Sainz drove for Torro Rosso and you were joining your father around the world, it was easy to cross paths with the Spaniard. Nothing ever happened, but you were on Carlos’ radar and that was more than enough. Then Charles entered the picture. And years passed without a single thought in your head about ever acting on the attraction for either driver because they became the enemy.

To the world, you were the Red Bull princess. You were Christian Horner’s pride and joy. You were the face of one of the only pure and innocent things at Red Bull, and nothing could tarnish that image.

Nothing except the Ferrari boys.

The two men that were your father’s biggest rivals. The two men that seemed to have you wrapped around their finger long before you could even realise it. The two men that seemed to awaken a fire inside you that you didn’t think existed, and now you never wanted to extinguish it.

The two men that had trained the perfect, little Red Bull princess into their perfect, little whore.

And now, in a small and exclusive club in the heart of Monaco, you were just in reach. You were standing beside Max, his arm thrown over your shoulder, as you both laughed and celebrated and drank happily at the expense of both Ferrari boys.

And something in them snapped.

You were at least three drinks in, lost in the crowd as you aimlessly danced to whatever song was being pumped through the speakers when you felt their presence. You barely had a chance to open your eyes before you felt a warm and familiar chest settle behind you, hands on your waist that were gripping the fabric of your short dress.

“You seem happy, cherie,” Charles grumbled, lips brushing against your ear as he pulled you back into him. “Far too fucking happy.”

“Charles,” you murmured breathlessly, leaning into his embrace like it was instinctive.

“Maybe you like laughing at our expense,” a second voice spoke, and you didn’t even have time to turn your head on your own before you felt fingers digging into your cheeks, turning you to face Carlos who stood in front of you.

You shook your head. “I wasn’t—”

“You didn’t even come to see us, amor,” Carlos grumbled, his voice so clear to you despite the noisy environment of the club around you. “Too busy celebrating with Daddy’s favourite?”

“I just didn’t know—” you started, only to let out a small whimper when Carlos’ fingers slipped past your lips, two digits laying heavy on your tongue as you gently sucked.

“You’re ours, amor,” he murmured, his hooded eyes focused on the way your pretty painted lips wrapped around his fingers. “Ours to do whatever we want with, right?”

You whined, nodding.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Carlos continued, shaking his head like he was scolding you. “You should have been waiting for us. You should have been on your fucking knees and instead you were running around with Max.” He paused for a moment, his gaze moving to Charles behind you. “Maybe you just need a fucking reminder who you belong to.”

You barely gasped around his fingers when you felt Charles’ hands wander lower until his fingers brushed against the hem of your dress. Carlos watched you, delighted in the way your eyes widened when Charles pushed the fabric of your dress up to expose your scantily clad ass in a thong.

“This just for us, cherie?” Charles whispered in your ear, his voice low and his accent thick and it made you clench your legs together.

“Maybe she does remember she’s our whore after all,” Carlos commented as if you weren’t there.

Charles fingers wandered, his palm moving to cup your pussy and he let out a dark laugh. “And she’s fucking wet already. Barely even touched her.”

“Because she’s such a good toy,” Carlos cooed as he pushed his fingers further into your mouth until you let out a choked garble. “Even when she’s not trying, she wants to be our good girl.”

“Shit,” Charles groaned, his nose brushing against your neck as his fingers teased your soaking cunt. “She’s fucking dripping, Carlos. Making such a mess.”

“Guess we need to take care of our toy, Charles,” the Spaniard murmured in response.

And it should have terrified you. All of it should have made some sort of warning bell ring in your head. You were in public. You were in a club. Anyone could see the three of you. Anyone could see the way the Ferrari boys were touching you.

It was dark and it was loud and most of the people around you were far too drunk to comprehend their surroundings, but all it would take was for one picture to be taken and for the world to see the Red Bull princess at the mercy of the Ferrari boys.

But it didn’t scare you, or maybe you just really didn’t care. Maybe because you didn’t care what the world thought because Charles was sliding his cock into you and Carlos was slowly pumping his fingers in your mouth in a way that made you wish it was his cock, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else at that moment.

“Look at our pretty girl,” Carlos cooed as your eyes fluttered shut with Charles’ thrusts, his hands on your waist as he fucked you without a single care. “Taking it so well, amor. Like a good toy.”

“Fuck,” Charles groaned in your ear, panting in your ear as he pulled you back onto his cock. “So fucking tight, cherie. Gonna fill you up and let people see me dripping down your leg all night.”

You whined around Carlos’ fingers, a sound so pathetic and desperate that both boys almost wished the whole club could hear you.

“We are gonna fucking ruin you, amor,” Carlos murmured as his other hand softly caressed your cheek as if a small dribble of drool wasn’t leaking from the corner of your lips and ruining your makeup. “Not Red Bull’s princess, but our fucking whore.”

You moaned pathetically.

“Who knows,” his grin was a little vindictive and sinister. “Maybe we’ll send a little picture to your father. Show him which team his daughter really belongs to.”

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intergalacticaquarium · 2 years

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Tumblr stop recommending me such earnest criticisms of season 4 I only want people who see other people's failures as kinda funny on my dash from here on out

#like we dont need to pick apart every little thing that proves it sucked because 100% of it literally was bad!#like cant we all just look out at this trainwreck and say.....yeah #that seems about right #i have been on tumblr way too long to keep seeing detailed breakdowns abt why something was offensive #when the whole of what it was incased in wasnt good #and also these takes are on tumblr but always seem very argumentative and its like #either ur talking to ppl that agree with u on tumblr or go to twitter and tweet at the duffers #like....does...does anybody actually think this show was *good* after season 1?#like ya were here cuz we love the characters and the vibe but its not GOOD #like....literally rhe last two episodes had me literally laughing hysterically the entire time bc #when ur like me and youve been burned by one too many media properties and youve written one too many detailed and earnest criticisms #for nobody that can do anything about it #i usually go in expecting shit to he bad bc either im pleasantly surprised or i feel vindicates #this? this was worse than i ever couldve imagined #and thats funny! its funny that these dudes with unlimited budget a guaranteed fanbase and really good characters #could do something so terrible and so easily fixable! thats funny! objectively thats funny! like they had the easiest possible setup #and they beefed it so so so hard they fucking were on the lowest diving board and bellyflopped #dont be sad bc it was bad #be happy bc u just got to witness somebody putting out some really hackjob shit and everybody knows it and thats great! nobody was happy!#like...the show isnt even cool anymore and it hasnt been for years and yet still every time they roll it out they are given #a golden oppritunity abd they churned out trash bc they did a bad job and whether or not there are consequences they know it too!#they were looking at it and watching it and seeing fan reactions and are probably thinking about so many mistakes rn #bc like regardless of their talent theyre still artists and artists hate doing a bad job and i think they know they did bad #and if they dont that might be funnier bc theyll be going to their hollywood gatherings #and everybody will think that they suck and they might not even know thats awesomez #hey am i a mean spirited person #as i was writing it im realizing that might not be normal but also like it is funny #like they didnt put in as much effort as you are going to put into ur bullet list of how wills story was homophobic. it was bad #and everybody watching knows that. why havent we kung pow penised the ads yet like cmon fam this is tumblr we know what to do #dont put more thought into why ur upset than they put into making the choices they didnt earn it

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kadwrites · 9 months

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a perfect fit | T.S

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summary ; you and your family are planning the engagement party.

warnings ; arranged marriage trope , soft!tommy, typos maybe?

a/n ; i would love to know what you guys think of this part!

you're sitting on one of the chairs surrounding the dining table, a hand massaging your temple as the other brings the scorching hot tea to your lips, your eyes look at the table, papers and pens scattered everywhere. celest, your sisters in law, your friends and your mom all seem to be talking at the same time and they are so loud

"miriam ? miriam green? no i'm not inviting her!"

"mum ya can't not invite 'er.... she's dad's cousin" celest sighs , rose is asleep with her head on celest's shoulder

"as far as i know he's the best baker in birmingham and we certainly can afford it. so why shouldn't we get a cake?" fiona argues with madeline, tapping the pen against the notebook , the name of the baker and price of the cake written in her messy handwriting

"because we want to save that for the wedding." madeline argues back "we don't really need a cake for the engagement party."

you just sit there , watching them all argue as anna and renee go over the receipts of the dresses they planned to make for the party

"with the baby coming any day now.... i can't risk it. i think i'll have two dresses just in case, that way i'll have something to fit me anyways" renee, motions to her bump and anna nods

you'll let them have their fun and you'll just go over everything once everyone is asleep, you decide. you just stare at them, it's almost like a trainwreck really, you can't look away. while the women of your family are planning the engagement party of the fucking century, your nieces and nephew are all napping on the sofas. you envy that, you miss napping. you actually miss sleeping properly after all this happened

"what do ya think?"

"hmm?" you look up at celest as she stands next to you, showing you the guest lists, at least the ones your family is deciding to invite "i'll take a look later" you look away again, sipping your tea

"tommy said he'll be here right?" celest asks again, a hand on rose's head

you chuckle, you can't believe this is actually happening "yeah, he's supposed to drop by any minute now"

"is he bringing the ring too?"

"mhm." you answer, still observing your family. your engagement ring was done and you needed to see if it fits well.

"are ya okay?" celest crouches down, with rose still in her arms

you turn, smiling softly "yeah , why wouldn't i be?"

"ya seem.... out of it."

"just tired is all, planning this fucking thing is just tiresome" you smile again, squeezing her shoulder gently "i'm fine"

celest stands up, she puts a comforting hand on your head, smoothing down your hair before walking away , she'll probably go put rose down in the crib, the crib that your mother insisted on having in her room

abraham walks in, leaning down to kiss anna on the cheek. her smile is shy and flustered , renee wiggles her brows at anna. then he walks to you, he has his hands in the pockets of his trousers

"your fiancé is here." he nods at you

speak of the devil. you put your cup down "let 'im in." you motion for him to go

and as soon as the women heard his name, they scattered away wanting to give you some privacy , anna helped renee get up from the chair and up the stairs, your mom went up too. and celest stayed in your parents room with rose. madeline and fiona probably went outside.

he's been dropping by often in the past two weeks, deciding on the engagement party.

"hello" he greets you as he walks in, you're still on the chair , your fingers massaging your temple

"hello, thomas."

"is everything alright?" his eyes wandered to the scattered papers on the dining table

"yeah everything is fine" you sighed , your hands drop down to the table, then you pick up your cup again "care for a cup of tea?"

"sure"

you grab the teapot and grab one of the cups around it, pouring his tea in. you place it back on the table

he sat down, sipping his tea as he looked at you , you grab the guest list that celest brought, looking over the names

"your family seems.... excited"

"thats an understatement" you chuckle, grabbing a pen to scratch out any names you didn't want there " 'aven't seen them so excited since the war ended." you mumbled.

"were ya in any relationship before this 'appened ?"

he asked the question so casually , you slowly look away from the paper to look at him "what?"

"were ya in a relationship before we got engaged?"

"why do ya wanna know?" you raise a brow

"just curious" he sipped his tea, his eyes still on you

"no"

"why not?"

you put the paper and the pen down, looking at him again "what kind of question is that?"

"a normal one."

you blink a couple of times, "i 'ave high standards when it comes to dating" you lick your lips before speaking again "i mean had , i guess."

"fair enough."

"what about you?"

"me ?"

"were ya seeing anyone?"

"if i was i wouldn't be getting an arranged marriage now ,would i?"

you shrug, grabbing the paper again "some married men still date"

"im not one of them"

you snort a laugh, still looking at the paper and it was his turn to raise a brow

"what's so funny?"

"nothing."

"ya think i'd do that?"

"yes" you answer rather bluntly as you pick up one of the other papers "gangsters aren't exactly known to be the most loyal of husbands, and ya do 'ave a reputation"

"i do?" a small smile is on his lips "what kind of reputation?"

"a bad one" you mumble "people say that you're a whore."

he chuckled, putting his cup down "doesn't mean i'm a cheater now does it?"

your lips curl up "i guess not."

for a moment a comfortable silence ensues before he stands up, you don't look up, too engrossed in the papers to do so. but your eyes widen when you see him lower to the ground, you slowly turn your head to see him, down on one knee with a velvet black box in his hands, the diamond engagement ring catches the light and it shines . it's probably the biggest diamond you'd ever seen in real life, it's gorgeous

you open your mouth a couple of times but no words come out, your eyes darting between his "tommy what are ya doing?" you finally speak

"what do you think im doing?"

"i don't know."

"would you marry me?" his voice softens, the small smile still on his lips, his blue eyes bore into yours.

"i...." you stutter, letting the paper go , you lick your lips. a laugh escapes you, your heart feels like its going to jump out of its place. your hands shake and you just can't look at anything but his eyes "yes"

he takes out the ring out of its box, grabbing your hand so gently like you're made out of delicate porcelain, sliding the ring on your finger. it's a perfect fit, it's the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. he brings your hand to his lips, they brush against the softness of your hand , you feel as if that ignited your whole body on fire. his eyes are still on yours.

taglist : @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 , @warrior-of-justice , @mgdixon , @babayaga67 , @goblinjnr

#kadwrites #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction

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generalsmemories · 5 months

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Ginkgo leaves

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: Since reqs are open, you think you could write jing yuans reaction to his lover being Mara-struck? Thank you! - requested by anonymous

✧ contents: established relationship, angst, hurt/almost no comfort lmfao, implied character death, mentions of other characters, pov mostly written in jing yuan's pov, still usage of 2nd pov (referring the reader as you), mayhaps ooc because jing yuan is an emotional wreck.

✧ a/n: when i tell ya'll i legit struggled to be able to write this entire thing. there's been like 3-4 scrapped drafts because halfway through writing i would just NOT be satisfied with the result. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry it took this long - but i hope the upcoming trainwreck makes up for it! a trainwreck im still not actually satisfied with LMFAO. but it's better than the other 5 scrapped works. also not beta-read so fellas if u see a spelling error - no you didn't.

p.s: some mara-struck information i give here are totally fanmade for the purpose of this fic alone, as such don't take whatever i write about mara here as what actually happens canonically to characters (then again most of the playable characters have different symptoms of mara themselves).

"Benefactor, am I correct to believe you're asking me if the general has any specific interests?" Tingyun asks with a snicker, the trailblazer looking away from her prying eyes while mumbling a quiet yes.

"Some of the younger... Can I call them younger? Anyway, some of the younger Xianzhou citizens are very infatuated with the general. Seeing as I've been announced as his honory guest, they do often come and ask me various things to try and gain his favor. So yeah, anything at this point will work - so please!" the trailblazer hurriedly explained, clasping their hands together in a desperate attempt to get anything from the foxian amicassador leaning back with a quirked eyebrow.

"Ahh, love truly makes someone go blind doesn't it," she muses out loud, the trailblazers' eyebrow furrowing together in confusion over the foxian's lady choice of words, "... You're not entirerely wrong with that statement..."

"Do you want to know what his favorite flower is?" Tingyun asks, ignoring the confused question that had been uttered to her, snapping her fan open to hide the cheeky smile that spread across her lips - but anyone could still tell that her eyes were gleaming with mischief as the trailblazer nodded their head.

"He doesn't have one."

"Then why did you even-"

"But he likes ginkgo leaves."

The trailblazers' eyes widened in shock, and rightfully so because the very thing ginkgo leaves are associated with are after all...

"He had a lover once, and as far as I'm aware, his last moment with them while they still had their consciousness intact was surrounded by ginkgo leaves."

Jing Yuan whilst having forgotten almost every single moment with you, does unfortunately remember the exact details of the day that your descent into madness started. Because what he witnessed wasn't a futile struggle you had with yourself to not to destroy everything within your vicinity. Instead, he witnessed the slow process of your bright self becoming an empty shell, only capable of uttering a few words.

It's comical really, even when faced with a curse that struck everyone mad - he found out that it oddly fit your character to not go mad, but instead become the complete opposite of your gentle self. A hollow shell of the person he fell in love with all centuries ago.

Jing Yuan knew he had to end your suffering right then and there when you first started to show signs.

But he couldn't - This wasn't something that had to be immediately dealt with, his hand wasn't forced like it was back when he had to slay his own master down before she took more lives.

No, this was a normal afternoon on what would've been another normal, mundane day in both of your lives. But everything went wrong the moment Jing Yuan heard the breaking of glass, and how there was a lone gingko leaf inside the palm of your hand - a ginkgo leaf that you were staring wide-eyed at with a trembling hand.

You were too far from the veranda to have a ginkgo leaf in your hand.

General Jing Yuan would've ended your suffering the moment you turned around to lock eyes with him, your own face twisted into one of utter fear.

General Jing Yuan would've reported you the to Ten-Lords Commissions as the law had stated. But Jing Yuan couldn't - because Jing Yuan knew that the moment he did, he would never see you again.

So he decided for once he would be selfish. Jing Yuan rarely made choices lately that was based off of his own feelings, but his time with you was cut too harshly, so once again he chooses to be selfish. Even if that meant that it would prolong your suffering just a tiny bit more. "... We can figure something out," was the only thing he could muster up the courage to say with a shaking voice. You didn't say anything, your mouth wobbling a tiny bit and your breathing getting harsher by the second.

But still you indulged him - you always did. So with an equally wobbly smile, you only nodded your head slightly, "... Sure."

That wobbly smile and expression of utter fear was the last genuine expression that truly came from yourself.

The descent to becoming fully mara-struck is usually a fast process, the curse able to completely overtake someone's mind within the same day the symptoms appears - rendering the person completely vulnerable with the only alternative to either hand themselves in to the Ten-Lords or wait for the Ten-Lords to come to them personally.

Your usual easy-going smile was gone, in its stead was eyes that kept going in and out of focus. Almost as if you were desperately trying to keep yourself grounded - a battle you both knew would end with your defeat.

Jing Yuan didn't dare to venture outside of the house. One step out and every Cloud Knight would've been on you within seconds to subdue you. He had first initially resorted to just holding you within his arms for as long as he could, to be able to remember how you felt like after your death.

But with the minimal strength you had left, you had wobbled to the garden, every step taken only making you pant heavily. But even with heavy breaths of air leaving your lips, you had refused to take Jing Yuans hand or offer to even carry you out to the garden. When you had managed to reach the ginkgo tree standing tall at the center of the garden, Jing Yuan was sure you were going to collapse in front of it, taking a quick step to catch you.

But instead you had merely reached your hands up, the falling leaves fluttering gently down onto your palms. And while you were in indescriable pain for the last couple of hours - Jing Yuan could only see a serene expression when you looked up at the ginkgo leaves that were continously falling down.

"... They're beautiful... aren't they... Jing Yuan? It's almost a pity... that these beautiful... leaves are associated with our doom," you said softly. Jing Yuan could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you uttered his name.

You're obviously struggling to convey whatever thoughts you still had to him properly, taking a moment in between words to catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you fought against the searing pain that was spreading through every nerve in your body.

There's a sudden gust of wind which causes the pile of leaves in your hands to flutter away from your grasp. Your hand stretches out slightly, almost in an attempt to reach out for them - stumbling a bit in your step. The limp causes Jing Yuan to take a quick step forward with his arms outstretched. Perhaps seeing him in your peripheral vision causes you to stop the futile attempt to catch the escaping leaves, arms going limp against your side as you turn to face him - your once blank expression turning into a somber smile instead.

Jing Yuan thinks that it's unfair how normal you look in front of him - almost as if you haven't been becme mara-struck. Like nothing has happened to you aside from the ginkgo leaves fluttering from your lips whenever you cough. The same cough that causes the general of Luofu to flinch every time - without fail.

And perhaps you can see his inner turmoil, the way he tries to make eye contact with you, but is unable to after a few seconds. The way his hands clench too hard into fist to the point droplets of blood fall down to the grass and stains it a deep red while he bites his own lips to not say a word - lest he says something that he will regret.

And you truly wish that you could tell him everything is okay like you usually do.

But for the first time since the day he lost his friends, you can't.

"... I'm sorry," you finally say, the apology making him whip his head up to you again. Mouth opening to say something to comfort you, to tell you that it's not your fault. But the words are unable to leave his mouth when he sees your arms slightly outstretched towards him with a small smile.

And he can't hold it in anymore.

It only takes him a few wide steps to reach you from his position before he cradles you within his arms. The grip is tight, unbearably tight to the point it hurts, but you don't complain. You're limp in his hold, and if this was any day he wouldn't comment, but the fact that you're not moving a single muscle terrifies Jing Yuan to the core. "... Please," he finally manages to whisper, the rustling of ginkgo leaves around you almost drowning out his quiet plea.

"Please don't make me do this again."

He doesn't ask if the tensing of your body is caused by the pain that's rapidly increasing or if it's caused by his silent confession. He can however feel the gentle hand that rests against the lower part of his back and your head resting against the side of his own. The reassurance you try to give him does nothing to help because he's aware that it probably brought you unmeasurable pain to try to move those limbs - instead the general buries his face closer to your neck and squeezes you tighter.

"... You won't." you whisper quietly.

It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to process the meaning behind those two words.

But it's a moment too late, because before he can get his phone out to usher a command, a few resounding knocks can be heard throughout the quiet mansion.

"General Jing Yuan. This is Xueyi of the Ten-Lords commission. I've gotten information that there's currently a mara-struck within these premises."

Jing Yuan feels his blood run cold, he pulls himself away from you to stare at you properly in disbelief.

You're still staring at him with the same somber expression, however he can tell there's a small pitiful smile grazing your lips, "I'm sorry," you whisper once again.

"I asked her... personally," you start, finally letting yourself rest now that the end is near, slumping down onto Jing Yuan's chest, your ear settling itself against his heart to hear his rapid heartbeats.

Jing Yuan loathes the fact that it's at this moment, with the Ten-Lords commission outside of your door and with him completely broken do you actually look at peace - like your battle against time has finally come to its conclusion.

And naturally, the one who lost is you.

"Half a day... with you. Then she would come and bring me there. You won't have to... do this again."

You're not able to see Jing Yuan's face - and Jing Yuan wouldn't want you to see how he looked like right now. The arms around you is trembling, his mind is racing - trying to come up with anything to give him a bit more time with you.

But for once, the general that had a plan for every situation had nothing in mind.

He's lost. And the prize of the loss this time is losing you forever.

"General, I apologize for the rudeness of what I'm about to do, but this is for both of your safety," Jing Yuan hear Xueyi mutter from outside of the door, before he hears the rattling of the door frame start to slide open.

"Wait- no," it's a quiet request that gets ignored as Xueyi strides in alone, the lack of company making Jing Yuan's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"... Their last request along with the request for my late arrival here was for the Cloud Knights to not see you like this. Naturally I won't tell anyone of what I've seen today."

Jing Yuan doesn't care about that, he could care less about his image right now, pulling you closer to him while his eyes are downcast - he makes no move to hand you over to the judge.

The puppet judge before him does not say anything - nor does she make a move. What she does however is wait, wait for the general before her that has been utterly crushed and broken by the person in his arms start to accept the harsh truth once again.

If he doesn't handle the mara-struck himself, someone else would - but the end result only serves to punish him in the end, the one left behind.

Xueyi hears a silent breath be let out by the general, her once closed eyes opening up to see the general pull slightly away from you, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. Your eyes have long since closed, and you're most likely not even conscious to hear what he's about to say.

"My dear... I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before we can meet again," he whispers, bumping his forehead against your own gently, "I hope you won't fault me for that."

A long ginkgo leaf flutters right between the two of you, eventually settling down on your chest.

Jing Yuan sucks in one last deep breath, "I'm sorry I kept you here for so long - I'm sorry you had to be in pain for so long because of me," he leans in to slot his lips one last time over your own, whispering something that Xueyi can't hear before he rises up, your body limp in his arms.

"Thank you for your service Miss Xueyi, please see them off appropiately." Jing Yuan says, voice sounding eerily calm - almost like his usual self.

When he turns around to finally face her, the puppet's lifeless eyes seem to grow a bit in surprise. Before her is the general of Luofu, his usual easy-going smile present on his lips.

Like he wasn't carrying his mara-struck lover in his arms.

"As much as I would want to accompany you to see them off, I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to," he informs, handing your body over to Xueyi - she doesn't comment on how his hands are still slightly trembling or how he immediately turned a bit to the side to ignore staring at her head-on.

Even though Xueyi doesn't want to ask, she still asks either way, "What are your plans from here on, general?"

Jing Yuan only gives her a close eyed smile, turning his gaze towards the large ginkgo tree with his hands behind his back. He gnaws a tiny bit at his lips, finally breathing out.

A couple of seconds passes by before he opens his mouth.

"I think I'll meditate a bit under this tree before heading back to the Seat. I can't leave Luofu without me for too long after all."

5 SCRAPPED WORKS AND I'M STILL NOT ACTUALLY THAT SATISFIED BUT IF I KEEP THIS PIECE LONGER IN THE WORKS THE MORE I'LL BUTCHER IT SO HAHA - THIS IS THE BEST WE CAN DO AFTER 3 MONTHS OF CONSTANT BACK AND FORTH FELLAS. I HOPE IT SQUEEZED YOUR HEART A TINY BIT NONETHELESS.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail imagines #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr imagines #star rail x reader #star rail imagines #star rail x you #honkai star rail angst #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan angst

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whore-ibly-hot · 10 months

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Yan!Bully x Gn!Reader x Yan!Loser

'Art-Project'

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Bullying, name calling, degradation, violence, mentions of non-consensual photos, nonconsensual touching, male pronouns for the yans, mentions of school, general perversion, toxic behaviors, creep behavior.

(AN: Had a fun time with this one, really enjoyed toying with the dynamic between this two. I think I'll probably make a part two with these trainwrecks in the future)

Part 2 here

The crashing of books and pens falling on the tile floor rings out through the boy's bathroom, as a young, dark-haired boy is thrown harshly onto the cold multi-colored tile. The boy lets out a cry as he hits the ground, and he scrambles away upon impact, pressing his back up against the wall as he looks up at his assaulter.

"F-fuck off, Patrick!" Ahmed exclaims, his frightened eyes never leaving the predatory gaze of the bully who stands over him. Ahmed's free hand wanders around the bathroom floor, grasping blindly to try and find his book bag. Ahmed's accent only becomes more prominent, as his voice shakes and cracks. "Fuck did you say to me, you little shit?" Patrick grabs the boy by his collar, yanking him up from the ground and sneering at him. Ahmed gulps when he feels Patricks breath tickle his neck, making him tremble. "I-I didn't, didn't mean it, c'mon. I was just shocked when you threw me on the floor, it just slipped out." Patrick rolls his eyes, and as he does, his gaze falls on Ahmed's bright red backpack, laying open on the floor. Patrick notices how Ahmed's eyes widen when Patrick looks at it, causing Patrick to raise an eyebrow.

"What's in the bag, freak?" Patrick whispers, and before the sentence has even fully left his lips, Ahmed is fiercely shaking his head. "Nothing, nothing! Just work, please-" He hits the floor again, and he's sure tomorrow he'll be bruised from the rough treatment. "Pick it up." Ahmed looks up. "What?" "C'mon, pick it up. You're all freaked out, freak... I wanna know why, so I'm gonna tell you one more time." Patrick crouches down, and nods in the direction of the cloth schoolbag. "Pick. It. Up." He pauses after each word, relishing the fear in Ahmed's eyes.

Since Ahmed transferred to Morrisville high, Patrick had made his life a living hell. Not that he wasn't already unpopular at his old school, but people at least tried to avoid him there. People did here at first, before Patrick set his sights on Ahmed. Patrick wasn't sure what drew him to the scrawny, quiet boy. Possibly the way everyone avoided him, or maybe it was how little everyone knew about the new kid. Most likely, it was the knowledge that no matter what he did to the boy, or what he made him do, no-one was going to stand up for the boy. Patrick picked on everybody, but god, Ahmed became his favorite. The way he'd squirm, and cry. The way he was able to convince the other kids at the school to pick on the lonely boy. Things only got worse when Patrick found out that everyone at Ahmed's old school thought he was a freak too. Suddenly, shoulder-checks in the hallway became full-on beatings, stolen homework became shoes and clothes being taken from Ahmed's locker, or even right off the poor boy. Patrick never hesitated to remind Ahmed that even if he reported him, or got away from this school, that he'd still be a freak, no matter where he went.

Ahmed's sobs snap Patrick out of his reveling, as the scrawny boy crawls over to the bag, his hands shaking as he tries to grip the red canvas of the backpack. Patrick huffs, but before he can open up the backpack and take a look, he hears footsteps outside the bathroom, coming from down the hall. "Get in the fuckin' stall, go." Patrick growls, pointy sharply at the large handicapped stall at the other end of the bathroom. Patrick steps outside of the bathroom, and Ahmed can hear Patrick greeting whoever is outside. A friend of Patrick's probably. Another member of his little delinquent gang. Ahmed shuts the lid of the toilet and sinks down to sit on the lid, afraid his knees may give out. The sound of heavy boots approaches, and Patrick fingers slid around the stall door, pulling it open as he slips into the stall, locking it behind him. Ahmed tries to steady his breathing.

"Alright, open it up. C'mon." Patrick nods in Ahmed's direction. Shaking hands pull out textbooks, pens, pencils, even the leftovers from Ahmed's lunch. The objects clatter to the floor, scattering across the bottom of the stall. "See, nothing in here, just my school stuff." Ahmed's trembling hands extend the now empty bag to Patrick, presenting it almost proudly. "What... there's no fucking way." Patrick huffs. He begins to dig through the objects, kicking away the writing utensils as he grasps at the textbooks. He flips through each of the pages, trying to find anything incriminating. His frown only deepens as he finds nothing. He's about to give up, as he reaches for a blue folder labeled 'Math'. When he does, Ahmed lets out an involuntary whimper, causing Patrick to freeze. A sick grin spreads across the blonde's face, as he slowly pivots his head to look at Ahmed.

"There we go, somethin' in here you don't want me seeing?" He asks. Ahmed nods, tears cascading down his cheeks. "Alright, I'll tell you what, freak..." Patrick stands straight up, leaning up against the wall behind him. "Tell me what's in the folder, and I won't even look, okay? Just get it off your chest, I'm open-minded." Patrick purrs at the boy, watching his resolve crack in real-time.

"It's-" Ahmed goes quiet towards the end, his words so soft Patrick can't hear. "What was that? You gotta speak up." He sighs. "Or, I guess I could just look-" He moves to flip open the folder with the edge of his boot, causing Ahmed to jolt forward. "N-no!" The boy yells, thrusting his hands out in front of him. Patrick scoffs, tossing his head back for a moment as he laughs, clutching at his stomach. "Jesus, Ahmed, what the hell is in here that's got you so spooked?" Patrick asks. Ahmed shivers. Somehow Patrick using his real name is worse than him calling him 'freak'. It feels more personal.

"It's nudes... nude photographs." Ahmed whimpers, a blush of shame spreading across his cheeks as his gaze falls to the floor. "Oh- yours?" Patrick asks. Ahmed doesn't respond, causing Patrick's brows to furrow, an amused and pleasantly surprised expression coming onto his face. "Not yours, huh." Patrick glances down at the folder. "Who the hell's been giving you pussy, freak? Who's been letting you take those pics?" He asks. Ahmed's hands are tense, gripping the fabric covering his knees so hard that he worries they might tear.

"I- they didn't, alright?" Ahmed cries, curling his knees up to his chest and burying his face in shame. "They didn't-" Patrick takes a moment to process this information. His eyes light up in realization. "You really are a little pervert, huh? I knew something was off about you." He puts his hand on his knees, leaning over so he can make eye contact with Ahmed's curled up form. "A sick little pervert. You get off on those photos?" Ahmed whines. "Some poor kid at this school doesn't know that the school freak strokes it every night to a picture of them... poor them." Patrick leans down and picks up the folder.

"Wait, w-what are you doing, you said you wouldn't look if I told you the truth about what was in there?" Ahmed coughs, almost full on hyper-ventilating at this point, eyes wide in panic. Patrick nods, keeping eye contact with Ahmed as he flips open the folder. "True, but..." He shakes his head, his blonde locks falling from his loose ponytail. "How do I know you're telling me the truth about what's in here if I don't look?" Ahmed scoffs. "Why would I lie about having a folder of some creep-shots?" Patrick shrugs. "I don't know, maybe something like that doesn't seem that serious to you, y'know, because you're a pervert." He suggests. Patrick sticks his tongue teasingly out at Ahmed, before looking down at the gritty Polaroids nestled behind some math notes.

The photos are taken from all sorts of places. The ones at the front are simple upskirts from behind, the subjects face not visible. As Patrick examines more of them, he notices they seem to get more invasive. The final photograph was clearly shot at night, a bedroom window visible. The subject of the photo lies nude, and Patrick's face falls when he sees the face. He looks up at Ahmed, his breath halted. "They... they are cute, huh?" Ahmed looks up from his knees, confused. "You know them?" Ahmed swallows harshly, then nods. "Sort of... we have English together." As Ahmed explains the nature of his relationship to you, Patrick flips through the photos once more. Now that he knows these photos are of you, they have an even greater allure. "Hmm, I have lunch period with them, gym too..." He muses. "Heh, you should see em' in those little gym shorts, shit..." Ahmed isn't sure where this is going, but Patrick's calm tone and hyper-focused expression stress him out even more than when Patrick is outwardly aggressive. At least then he's predictable. Right now, Ahmed is in new territory with his tormentor.

Patrick sighs, and tucks the photos back into Ahmed's folder. He smacks the folder into the center of Ahmed's chest, making him let out a grunt as his trembling hands grip the blue plastic. "Listen, freak." He whispers. He places a hand on the wall behind Ahmed, allowing him to move his face right up in front of the boys. Brown eyes look back at him with fear. "Nobody has to know about all this. I'm still gonna kick your ass, but nobody has to know about your..." He thinks. "Let's call it 'extracurricular art project', okay?" Ahmed, gulps, and asks. "What do you want in return, I know the way you are." Patrick chuckles. "You're pretty smart, huh? Alright, I'll tell ya. Get me some of those photos, some new ones. And copy that last one, that shot into their room." He says. "Why, y-you like them too?" Ahmed whimpers. Patrick shrugs. "I know they've got a sweet little body, and I wouldn't mind a closer look at it, that's all." Ahmed considers this. If he doesn't agree, who knows what Patrick would tell everyone. God, Ahmed might even have to change schools again, and if he did, he couldn't be near you. He shakes his head. He won't let that happen.

"Alright, you got it. I- I think I can get them to you by friday." Ahmed offers, and Patrick nods. Ahmed moves to stand, but Patrick pushes him back. "One more thing, freak." He whispers. Ahmed bites his lips in fear. Patrick slips his hand from the boy's shoulder, down past his waist, and to the front of his victims school shorts. He roughly palms Ahmed's limp cock through his pants, making the boy choke on his own spit in shock. Patrick sighs softly at his reaction, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

"Snap me a pic of yourself too, freak..."

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cleolinda · 9 months

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I'm gonna admit that I got on Twitter like a big ol' dramatic dork last night and said, knowing full well that Elon Musk was doing exactly this, "If he changes the name to X, I'm out, I can't do this anymore."

Not because "X" is doofy and a terrible branding move, although it is, but because he wants to do THIS shit. Yeah, no, I am not hanging around for your global interactivity "everything app" bullshit. You want me to fucking BANK with you? YOU? You just lost about $30B running a platform into the GROUND by FIRING EVERYONE and doing whatever damn thing popped into your head between shitposts? Are you HIGH? I cannot hang around for this "tech king of the world, 420 blaze it lmao" bullshit. I could not stay at my beloved Livejournal after SUP said all the users would be subject to Russian law in 2017. I know The Moment when I see it. I can't do this.

I admit, I might go back every few months and say "Hey, I posted XYZ on any platform but this, please leave this godforsaken place," and I don't want to delete my accounts. I've been on Twitter since 2008, and I have a ton of livetweet threads (on my main and also on an alt for that purpose. Remember that time I livetweeted the Twilight gender-change book? That glorious trainwreck?). I've saved some of them via Thread Reader PDF downloads, but there are still more to get. I don't want to utterly destroy book and TV discussion we did over there.

I haven't used Twitter regularly since maybe 2016 (about the time the post-Gamergate alt-right really moved in), but the conversation and community, decentralized though it was, before that--we're going to lose the last vestiges of that, the way everyone on Reddit was upset about losing the collective knowledge over there. And I'm so fucking angry about it. I'm so angry. I immediately came back here the week he took over last year because I knew, I KNEW, somehow that Twitter would be destroyed. I just thought it would burn down in a smoking heap of rubble, not turned into a shambling tech zombie under a different name. I just. I can't do this anymore.

Also, shut the fuck up, Linda Yaccarino. Just because you can put Elon Musk's nonsense into coherent verbiage doesn't mean "a global social media/marketplace/banking system/walled garden that's basically X-Treme AOL" isn't a fucking nightmare. I hope the EU bans the fuck out of you both. See you in bankruptcy court.

#AND ANOTHER THING #twitter #cranky little footsteps

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brbsoulnomming · 9 months

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Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

-----

Eddie doesn't graduate.

He's stuck here for another year, and he screams into his pillow, throws himself a pity party for the better part of two days, and then drags himself back out and gets the hell on with it.

In Eddie's second senior year, Hagan finds his new liege in the form of fucking Billy Hargrove.

Hargrove and Hagan fixate on Harrington, who frankly, doesn't seem all that interested in either raising to their bait or defending his title. Eddie'd almost have respect for the guy, if it weren't for the way their shit gets everywhere. The mess he'd been watching over the last year starts to spill out and out and out, and there's something in Hargrove's eyes that, for the first time, makes Eddie consider ducking his head and staying out of his way. There's a bitter taste in his mouth, because goddamn, if he did even a quarter of the things Hargrove is, he'd be getting queer written on his locker instead of freak before the end of first period.

But no, when it's a jock obsessed with another jock, it's a vicious rivalry. Hargrove is new, and pretty, and dangerous, and the balance seems to shift and waver on whether the masses find him thrilling or distasteful.

Eddie can't wait to graduate and leave this all behind.

Some time after Halloween, he finds I don't need to go to the hospital scrawled onto his hip, and his heart lodges itself in his throat. He's never been more tempted to say something - anything - to make his soulmate go to the damn hospital when he needs to.

But he's a coward who doesn't want to open that door again, and a bitter part of him reminds himself that his soulmate probably has tons of friends - a girlfriend - to bustle him off to the hospital and fuss over him.

He's a little bit ashamed of himself for the thought, but not enough to make him say anything.

Around the same time, neither of the dueling kings show up to school for three days straight. It's not entirely unexpected for Hargrove, but the last time Harrington missed school was the year before, when all that stuff with the missing Byers kid was going down.

It gets people talking.

When they both come back, the buzzing intensifies, and things come to a head at lunch. The cafeteria had dimmed a little when Harrington walked in, looking like a fucking trainwreck, but his swagger is just as strong as ever and he sits down with some of his friends like he's just daring anyone to ask him about it.

Then Hargrove walks in, looking not nearly as bad but still pretty clearly messed up, and the entire room goes quiet.

It makes Eddie's leg bounce in agitation, every bone in his body screaming at him to get the fuck out of there, but his sheepies are looking at him for their cues and he forces himself to look bored with all this shit.

Hargrove's swagger is even worse than Harrington's, and he saunters across the cafeteria as if he doesn't have a care in the world. Someone asks him a question, too low for Eddie to make out, and Hargrove grins, wide and amused.

"Harrington and I sorted our differences," he says, loud enough to echo across the cafeteria. "Ain't that right, Steve-o?"

Hargrove licks his lips as he looks over at Harrington - and see, see that's what Eddie's talking about, Hargrove is looking at Harrington like he wants to eat him. Some part of Eddie perks up a little, because fuck, that is one attractive man, but once again the look in Hargrove's eyes kills it. He looks like a fucking predator, like if a fight does spring up he'll go and go and go until one of them is dead, and Eddie feels a chill over his spine as his eyes snap back to Harrington.

If they're suddenly friends now, Eddie's going to have to make a dramatic exit to go be sick.

Fortunately for Eddie's stomach, there's a flare of disgust in Harrington's expression before it smooths over, looking bored and unaffected.

He smiles at Hargrove, sharp and wide and toothy. "Any time you want to skip the foreplay and get to the main event again, you just let me know."

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, firmly telling his dick to sit the fuck down, that any attraction he might feel for him should die the same way it does for Hargrove. It doesn't listen to him, not until -

Hargrove tips back his head and laughs, wild and frenzied, and there's a titter of laughter that scatters across the cafeteria - some of it uncertain, some of it mean, some of it genuine. Just like that, everyone's back to their normal days.

"Jesus H. Christ," Eddie mutters under his breath. "And they say I'm the dramatic one."

He hears a smattering of soft agreements from the rest of Hellfire, a couple of snorts of laughter, and that buoys him a little. He tilts his head, making a sweeping gesture that nearly knocks over Jeff's milk. "Well! It seems our entertainment for the meal is over with. What say we adjourn to get set up for tonight's club meeting?"

He doesn't look at Hargrove or Harrington. All the people in this world, the chances of his soulmate being one of them are pretty damn small, despite their situations fitting. He doesn't think about how both of them probably could have used a fucking hospital, doesn't let himself wonder which one is the type to deny they needed it.

Doesn't let himself decide that he'd so much rather it be Steve Harrington.

He really doesn't want it to be Steve Harrington.

—

Lies spring to life on his skin throughout the rest of the school year - not as much as last fall, but what he does get is… a little bit strange, a little bit personal, more so than Eddie's seen before.

Rabid dogs, you know, they're no joke.

I still think this is dumb.

You'd be surprised how many coyotes are in these woods.

I'm never going to play this thing with you, man, you might as well stop asking.

Nothing to worry about, all right?

I'm not lying, I'm totally fine.

Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington graduate with the rest of their class, that year.

Eddie doesn't.

Taglist (let me know if I missed anyone, and I'm always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @affablevixen @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman

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Part 5

#steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #Soulmate au #more light angst but there will be a happy ending

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pretend-i-do-not-exist · 2 months

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Under Spell, Right From The Start

Synopsis: He insists you're nothing special... but if that's the case, why do you cross his mind so often?

Pairing: Lucifer, Mammon, Satan, Belphegor × MC (separate)

CW: Gender Neutral MC, You/Yours, Fluff, Crushes, Spoilers for lesson 16 (OG) in Belphie's part, A smidge of angst in Belphie and a drop of it in Satan's too bc I couldn't resist

A/N: HEY HI!! So this is my first post, for this fandom specifically, and I'm still trying to grasp my writing style, so I apologise if it's a bit everywhere and not the best. However, if you do enjoy this trainwreck that I call writing, feel free to leave me a request. I'd really love to see some :]]] Thank you so much for taking the time to read this and HAPPY VALENTINES DAY ♡

Lucifer:

How could this be? The Avatar of Pride falling for a mere human? Impossible. He would never.

...Is what he said initially.

Over time, he found himself craving your presence

There was something about you that had him absolutely enthralled

Maybe it was the way you convinced him to take breaks

Or maybe it was the comfortable silence you settled in

You were doing your own things, but... doing them together? Even better.

Perhaps it was the way you learned to manage his brothers

#singlemomgetsabreak

That's a lie. He never gets a break.

#justiceforsinglemom

Now, you could manage his brothers

That doesn't mean you were always going to do it

He insists you're giving him grey hairs

But he enjoys having you around

And he cared for you, more than he wanted to admit to himself.

You're part of the family, after all :)

Mammon:

Pf- please. He's modelled for the biggest brands and has been on the covers of magazines.

He's got a line of demons waiting for him, and you think he'd get hung up on you? Yeah, right.

And he's definitely not trying to grab your attention when you join him for his photoshoots

And he'd never get pouty when you can't hang out with him because you've already made plans

Why should he care?

Oh, but he'd give anything for your attention

MC, he quite literally will run across the Devildom for you if you call

He's your first!

If he isn't by your side, and you aren't by his, then what's he gonna do??

He's greedy. That's what he is.

He's the Avatar of Greed, and you're his most valuable treasure.

Satan:

He has his books, he has his knowledge, and he's very content with it all

The last thing he needs is anyone disturbing that peace for him.

But... you.

He strangely likes his peace even more when you're there?

You could both be doing your own things in mutual silence or you could be talking about a new book the two of you are reading (that is if you like reading)

You make him feel even more at peace than if he was on his own

Then it hits him, he doesn't enjoy your presence, he enjoys you.

He's thinking about you when he's reading a new novel

Imagining you both as the protagonists because he's shaking the thought out of his head

Because you wouldn't want that, would you?

He's taking his time doing more and more little things for you

Annotating books

Letting you borrow books from him

Recommending books to you

It's all worth it to see that smile on your face

He just didn't realise it then

Belphegor:

He hates humans and you're no exception.

He just needs to get out of this stupid attic

Then he'll show them all

He's said it before and will continue to say it: this exchange program is a bad idea

... Because he's met you.

You're ruining this for him, I mean why do you have to be so beautiful?

Why do you have to be so nice?

Why are you so eager to help him?

You don't know how he's...

It. Doesn't. Matter.

You're human.

That's not gonna change.

Even after the murder, he finds his thoughts recircling

You- you're forgiving him? After everything? How??

More importantly, why does his heart swell with hope?

Hope that things can work out between you two

It's a crazy dream of his, that's for sure

Speaking of dreams, you're frequenting them more and more

He thought that it would be the opposite but boy was he wrong

His dreams are simultaneously becoming his worst nightmares because as sweet as they are while he's asleep...

Nothing quite dispels that feeling of disappointment when he wakes up again and you're not there.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me belphie x reader #obey me mammon x reader #omswd #obey me shall we date #Spotify

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stupidsexpotflanders · 4 months

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There's a huge debate about how Light's morality would've been if the Death Note hadn't fallen in his hands - on whether he would've been just as terrible or a good person. (This meta is based on the manga and only the manga)

I believe Noteless Light Yagami would be very mid,morally speaking. While he definitely isn't the kind of guy who would go out of his way to torment people,and he's very much an idealist,Light does have a tendency to stand idly by when faced with injustice. He saw a classmate of his being bullied and did nothing to defend the guy,despite obviously showing moral disapproval of it in his monologue. Besides,Light has a big amount of soft power in school,IMO. Not only he's a student with ridiculously high grades,he's also popular with other students. However,I don't think this makes him a bad person,since there's still a social risk even for him. It just makes him a not-good one. It also might be tied to his sense of self-preservation in canon,IMO. Light is condescending and arrogant,but those are hardly evil flaws on themselves. Besides,he's competitve and ambitious,but those traits don't have moral value either.

On another note(pun not intended),while Light surely has a huge ego and a hubris problem,his worst flaw(s) is(are) emotional cowardice and moral laziness. I understand why people don't attribute this set of flaws to him - he's shown as very dilligent and dealing with harsh situacions (kinda) gracefully. Besides,his arrogance often gets the best of him. However,Light is also shown time and again running from feelings and self-reflection. His journey as Kira starts exactly like that - his two first killings are a freak accident because the guy basically thought the Death Note was creepypasta. For a moment,Light decides to do the right thing and toss the murder weapon but these seconds of common sense don't last long. Still,he decides this is what he always wanted,instead of actually confronting the fact that he made a massive blunder(plus,the trauma from causing two deaths by accident). Plus,Light is particularly prone to Sunk Cost Fallacy - the more he loses,the more driven he becomes. Like the Law of Inertia - if a body is at rest or moving at a constant speed in a straight line, it will remain at rest or keep moving in a straight line at constant speed unless it is acted upon by a force. And since Light did nothing to stop the trainwreck,it remained with a constant speed.

#death note #light yagami #dn meta #death note meta #unpopular opinion #or:light is a shithead with an ego but his main sin is sloth not pride

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infamous-if · 4 months

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Is MC is canonically immature as well? I always HC mine as being the opposite, because I feel like having shitty parents forces some people to grow up sooner.

MC being treated as an adult by their parents *cough* mom, as a kid, it just seems to make sense that they were sort of an adult as a kid, taking care of themselves once they realized no one was going to help them out, possibly contributing to how MC seems to be more “stoic” in terms of processing their emotions internally.

Of course they could still do and say questionable things because that’s just being human, but I feel like it would counter some of the immaturity amongst the cast. Unless we’re all destined to be train wrecks together?

Not canonically. I would say MC is (at the start) canonically a people-pleaser or non-combative when it comes to the people they love but that's part of their arc. They can be snippy and a general ass to their friends but when it comes down to the wire, MC isn't someone who would go against them. Obviously that can (and will) change as the story progresses. Part of the reason Orion pushes MC to be leader is not only for the band for their own growth.

You're right that shitty parents does force some people to grow up quicker! In the case of ROs like Seven and G, that did the opposite for them but G had the added layer of becoming famous at a very young age so they're kind of frozen in that time. Seven just doesn't know how to regulate and handle their emotions like an adult.

I do think—canonically—MC is more mature than some of the cast. Definitely more mature than Seven and G. More than Rowan and even Iris sometimes. There's no option to act like Seven because I don't see MC acting out that extremely like Seven does (but they can in the future.) And in the narrative, even if MC is getting wild or doing something they know they shouldn't be doing, they're reasonable enough to acknowledge that. They have a level of self-awareness I don't think Seven or G possess right now. Not even Victoria at some points.

The maturity and the trainwreckness are not mutually exclusive though ha! But as the story progresses, MC can definitely start becoming more immature or more mature based on where you guys decide to take them! So yes and no?

#inbox #mc #edited to fix the language sorry <3

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pennylanefics · 5 days

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Nighttime Comfort - Seth Jarvis

a/n: thanks to @human-trainwreck for the idea of the "best friend's younger brother" trope! i got the idea and ran with it and finish this in one night <3 if anyone has more seth ideas, send them my way! i had more ideas and definitely missed some things...part 2 maybe?? 👀

summary: you've always seen your best friend's little brother as just that, until one night, after thinking about him for months, everything changes when he comforts you after nightmares

warnings: mention of nightmares (no descriptions), slight age gap (i envisioned seth being 22 and reader being 23 or 24, so not terrible, but it's brought up multiple times)

word count: ~4.2k

“Seth should be gone by the time we get home, so you won’t have to deal with him while I’m out,” your best friend Daisy says to you as you near her home. The two of you had been out shopping all day, finally having time to spend with each other after your hectic schedules failed to line up for so long.

With your job at a local publishing company and the influx of demands your boss needed to meet the proper deadlines, and her traveling with her boyfriend, who is a hockey player in the NHL, it was hard to meet up. But finally, now that the off-season is here and your work has slowed down some, you could meet up and catch up on all the lost time.

“You know I don’t mind him,” you tell her. “He’s fun to be around.” She rolls her eyes at your words and you can’t help but laugh.

You grew up next to Daisy and Seth in Winnipeg and as time went on, you and Daisy became nearly inseparable, doing everything together and playing in each other’s backyards every day after school. That also led you to becoming rather close with her younger brother, only two years younger than you and her, but he was always around as their parents practically forced Daisy to include him.

Not that you minded, he was very amusing and a great joy; he was extremely chaotic and energetic, and was always trying to get you to laugh and mess with you in a teasing and fun way. Daisy was so embarrassed by him every time, but you truly weren’t bothered by it.

Things changed a little right before you entered high school. During the summer between eighth grade and ninth, your family moved away, although it was still in the same district and within driving distance, no more than fifteen minutes. It did hinder your ability to see her and Seth outside of school or on the weekends. Things did go back to normal when you and Daisy got your licenses and could see each other whenever.

As the years went on, things continued to change and shift. With Seth going into the NHL, and Daisy becoming a WAG for the Winnipeg Jets, you rarely had time to see them over the past couple of years, but through different interviews and videos of him from the Hurricanes and other media, you could tell Seth was still the same guy you grew up with and knew so well.

“I haven’t seen him in a while anyway. I think the last time was around Christmas, when he came home. That was almost seven months ago.”

“Believe me, seven months is not enough time away from him,” she grumbles, making you throw your head back in laughter.

He was always the life of the party. He could light up a room with his energy and sweet smile just by walking into it, and he’s cheered you up countless times after numerous events that upset you over the years.

And you didn’t want to believe it, but deep down, you always felt something more for him. Some little voice in your mind was screaming that he’s a sweetheart and would be an incredible partner. But you pushed that idea down for many reasons, one of which is because you figured he never would see you as anything more than his older sister’s best friend; it was an unspoken rule, really, and neither of you wanted to cross that line.

The two of you drag your number of bags into her house, where you were staying for the week since her parents were on vacation and your apartment was being renovated because of a flood issue on your floor.

“Just set them down and we can go through everything when I get back,” she states.

She needed to run an errand with her boyfriend, to check on his grandmother about an hour away and bring her the prescription she needed. That meant you would be alone for the next three hours or so, and after the long day you had, it was exactly what you needed.

She left shortly after dropping everything off, and in the meantime, you showered and then ordered some food. Everything in the house was calm, you were watching your favorite TV show on the TV, and it felt peaceful to have this kind of downtime after a full, busy day.

But that peace was quickly ruined an hour or so later. The time rolled around to 7:45 and in comes Seth and a couple guys, who you recognize as fellow players on the Hurricanes. Turning around, you stare at them, wide-eyed in surprise, and as soon as Jarvy takes the sight of you in, he shouts excitedly.

“Oh my god! What are you doing here?!” He yells, running over to you on the couch. Standing, you jump into his arms to hug him tightly, inhaling the musky scent of his cologne, a smell you’ve thought about every day since you got a whiff of it on Christmas.

“My apartment is being worked on and since Daisy and I haven’t had time to see one another very much, she invited me to stay here. I know she said you are back here for a short while, but she said you’d be out.”

“What, not so happy to see me??” He teases, shoving your shoulder playfully once you pull away from the hug. “Yeah, well, the guys and I wanted to go to some bars, but after sitting around we decided to come back here and play video games instead.” He points to the two men behind him, one who has blond hair and piercing blue eyes and one has short brown hair and deep brown eyes.

“This is Jack and Jesperi, or you can call him KK,” he points to the brown-eyed hockey player, who smiles sweetly at you and waves.

“Nice to meet you guys. I can move up to Daisy’s room if you’d prefer the living room. She’s still gone and I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

“Oh no, don’t worry about that!” Jarvy stops you from moving your things. “We’re going to the basement to play, we won’t bother you at all. Unless we have to come back up for snacks and drinks, but we’ll try to keep it down.”

Chuckling softly, you nod and watch as they file into the furnished basement, yelling and shouting as they go. Thankfully, the noise wasn’t too loud to distract you, so you go back to watching your show with no worry.

As the hours tick by and your eyes start growing heavier, you knew you should have headed up to Daisy’s room to get some rest instead of on the couch, although their couch was rather comfy. It was a large sectional, big enough to fit their entire family for movie nights.

You were curled up in one corner of the L-shaped section, under a soft, fuzzy blanket that was keeping you warm. The low lighting that you had set in the living room and with the quiet lull of your comfort TV show was enough to ease you to sleep, though you were unaware.

Suddenly, you are jolting up, your neck feeling slightly sweaty and clammy, your breathing slightly erratic and your eyes trying to adjust back to the bright TV that remained on. Slowly, you become aware of your surroundings and turn to find Seth sitting near you, a worried expression on his face.

“Are you alright?” He wonders, his voice low and calming, not wanting to startle you anymore than he has. “You were mumbling something in your sleep and shaking a little.”

Your hand wipes across your face as you shift your body to sit up a little. Being in the moment, you were finally able to get a really good look at Seth, since earlier you were too taken by the excitement of seeing him and meeting new people.

His hair was long in the back, but on the sides, you could tell that he had recently gotten them shaved down some, but the top section flopped over to hide that area; it was something that was visible when he wore a hat, and it was a look you always liked. His facial hair was newly trimmed, his beard slightly scruffy and his mustache somewhat full.

He was wearing an old Canes t-shirt, the neckline cut off to fit him loosely, and a pair of basketball shorts that were slightly smaller than usual, riding up his leg and showing a small glimpse of the tattoo on his right thigh.

“I-I was having a weird dream,” you murmur, taking a couple deep breaths. Seth moves a little closer, sensing all you needed was some comfort. “What time is it?”

“Around 11:30. Daisy called me and said something came up and she won’t able to make it back tonight. She said she tried calling you but you weren’t answering. Now I see why,” he answers with a lighthearted laugh.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to fall asleep out here. I should head upstairs.”

Seth thinks for a moment before he holds his hand up, silently telling you to stay put.

“Give me two minutes,” he says before darting off. You sat there, confused as hell as he ran up the stairs, leaving you alone once again.

You quickly text Daisy back, letting her know you had fallen asleep and everything was good, and that you’d see her in the morning, before reaching for the glass of water that had been left untouched for the past few hours and taking a large sip.

Minutes later, Seth comes trudging down the stairs with his comforter and an extra blanket, along with two pillows. He also had a change of clothes for himself, and once he reaches the couch, he piles everything onto the cushions at your feet.

“We’re having a little sleepover,” he states. “My sister ditched you so I’m stepping in. Plus we haven’t spent time together in a long time so we have to make up for it.” He winks and laughs at your shocked face.

“You really don’t have to do this. What about KK and Jack? Aren’t they downstairs?”

“Nope. They left right before you woke up. They’re staying in a hotel nearby so they’re gone for the night. Just you and me.”

After he gets everything set up, he runs off to the bathroom down the hall to change and when he returns in a pair of sweats and a different t-shirt, he sighs heavily and stares down at the couch.

“Okay, so I’ll sleep this way, and you can sleep with your legs out that way so you have more room,” he tells you, waving his hands all over. He specifically pointed to the spot you were sitting in, how he’d have his legs on the cushions jutting out and you would sleep perpendicular to him.

“Where would my pillow go?” You wonder, grabbing onto the extra one he had from his bed. You can’t help but smile at the scent that covers it, a mixture of Seth’s shampoo and conditioner and his cologne. His comforter was the same way, soaked in the smell of his body wash, a woods-y and earthy scent that you were most familiar with, similar to his cologne.

“Here,” he gets situated on the couch, his legs stretching straight out on the cushion. He places the pillow down on his legs and pats it, signaling that’s where you can lay. It was nothing out of the ordinary, really, the three of you used to sleep on each other like this when you were younger, more innocent.

Not that he was asking in an inappropriate way now, but it was something you figured you’d grown out of. But being too tired and too scared to fight, you just laugh it off and get under the covers. He left his comforter for you and used the two blankets for himself, something you found unfair to him.

You place your head in his lap, against the pillow, and immediately, his hands start playing with your hair softly, making sure not to tug at any knots that he couldn’t see. He was more so twirling the ends for his own comfort, something you picked up on when you were kids.

After laying there for a bit, no words spoken between the two of you, the guilt of him being down here, keeping you company was rising in your chest; you knew you shouldn’t have felt this way, but he didn’t have to do all of this.

“Seth, you don’t have to sit down here with me,” you suddenly sit up, looking over at him. A hurt and confused look crosses his face as he adjusts his body.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to, trust me. I know how you used to struggle with nightmares and no one should be left alone after having one.” His voice is gentle and soothing, trying to get across the fact that he wants to be here with you, and it’s no obligation or issue at all.

“I think I’ll be okay,” you whisper. But he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Well I’m not leaving,” he shakes his head. “What’s going on? I thought it would be nice to see each other again and be with one another now that you’re here.”

You pause and let his words sink in. He was right. Why were you pushing back? But with one look into his brown eyes, lit by the soft glow of a nearby salt lamp you had turned on earlier, you were very aware.

You had fallen for Jarvy and now there was no denying it.

You think back to the last time you saw him, in December. You couldn’t quit stealing glances at him throughout the day, watching as he laughed with his loved ones and how bright his unique smile was, how much you loved seeing it and how you longed to be the reason he was smiling so joyfully.

How you longed to hold his hand and cuddle up next to him on the couch, watching whatever Christmas movie was playing on the TV, surrounded by your family and his, having him press kisses to your temple.

It made your chest feel all warm and fuzzy thinking about what being his partner would be like. Was he serious in times when it was needed? Or did he used humor and laughter to cope with everything?

“(Y/N)?” He waves his hand in front of your face, bringing you back down to earth. You sigh softly and grin at him.

“Sorry, was just…thinking about something. But you’re right, it is nice to see you and be able to spend time with just you…” you trail off, hoping the tone of your voice didn’t give your little crush away. He smiles at you and opens his arms.

“So how about we cuddle instead? I’ve been told I give wonderful cuddles in times of need like this,” he states playfully, which in turn makes you giggle. He gives you that bright, wide smile as you move your body, but before you can super comfortable, you motion for him to switch positions and lay parallel with you, so both of your legs were on the actual couch rather than the sectional.

Since the space was big enough, you both fit rather comfortably, once Seth finally gets settled. You curl into his left side, nuzzling your face into chest, your eyes fluttering closed. What you couldn’t tell was the fact that Seth’s heart was racing in his chest at the turn of events.

He’s now under his own comforter, your legs tangling with his underneath. His arms wrap around you, holding you close to him, and one is softly rubbing up and down your back underneath the covers. It’s such a sweet and intimate movement, and it makes your own heart beat faster.

Silence falls over the two of you, neither of you knowing what to say, but instead, you enjoy the silence and the presence of each other.

“Would now be an acceptable time to admit that I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time?” He whispers, avoiding moving in case you wanted to pull away from him. But to his surprise, you stay put, reaching for his right hand that was stroking up and down your arm.

“You have?” You wonder, a little taken aback by his admission, threading your fingers with his. He watches in curiosity but smiles as he feels your touch in his.

“Yeah. Ever since you came home from school that one day in eighth grade, I was in sixth. You said some boy made a comment about you and you cried to me because Daisy wasn’t home yet. I-”

“You started telling me all these strange things about what the kid does and how awful he is to try and get me to laugh,” you fill in his sentence, remembering back to that day as clear as can be.

Seth had started telling you weird things that were very obviously not true, but what else is an eleven year old supposed to say? He was making things up like, “he keeps his boogers on a piece of notebook paper in his binder” or “his fingernails grow so fast he has to have them cut every day, and then he saves them to try and get in the Guinness Book of World Records for most amount of nail shavings collected”. Outrageously ridiculous statements.

But by the end, you were laughing with him, forgetting about all the mean things he said about you, and thanks to Jarvy, feeling better about yourself, even though you knew none of what he was saying was true.

“I know we were never super close the way that you and Daisy are, but I could never deny my crush for you. I expected you to think it was weird, considering I’m her younger brother and that’s all I knew I’d be. But goddamn, seeing you again, especially in such a soft and laid-back setting, it’s reignited that feeling.”

You were truly speechless. You had no idea what to say. He really had a crush on you?

“Then I think it’s fair to admit that I also like you, but pushed it away because I thought you only ever saw me as, well, as your older sister’s best friend, I thought it would be weird. But I like you a lot, Seth.”

His hand drops yours and it comes to rest on the side of your face, gently bringing your chin up to look up at him. His eyes were filled with adoration and tenderness as his hand cupped your cheek, careful with the amount of pressure he was using, letting you know you could push him away at any point still.

“So when was the moment you fell for me?” He asks, that crooked smile threatening to break. Heat rises to your cheeks when you realize you don’t have a story similar to his.

“This past holiday season. When you came home for Christmas, I realized quite a few things, and one of them is I can’t deny that I have feelings for you and wish what it would be like to be yours,” you whisper to him, gazing into his eyes. His thumb rubs against the apple of your cheek as you explain your side. He then takes a moment to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and it sends your heart into a frenzy.

“Oh really?” He pushes in a teasing manner. “Like what?”

“Like falling asleep in your arms, but in a more romantic way than platonic way when we were younger. Being able to come up and hug and kiss you whenever, wearing your jersey to your games, knowing that only you and I know that I’m yours and the most important person in the crowd wearing your number.” He can’t help the blush that dusts his cheeks at your last comment. “And I can assume that’s something you’ve thought about plenty of times, right?”

Seth laughs and nods his head, still looking down at you with so much love.

“I won’t lie, I have. And you’d be able to get a WAG playoff jacket, and how adorable you’d look in them.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as he continues to hold your cheek in his hand.

“You know, my parents always joked with your parents about when we’d get together. And Daisy always shut them down whenever she heard them talk about it because how weird, right? But there was one night, a few years back, right before I was drafted. We were in the backyard, looking up at the stars, and she told me I should go for it with you, if I liked you. How she thought we’d be good together, how I’d treat you right and how you would love me for as I am. I think she could always sense that I liked you more than a friend, but was too scared to say it because you two were friends first, and pretty close.”

You are stunned by his words. You never knew Daisy said that, but to hear that she thought her brother was good enough for you, you knew that this decision, or whatever outcome for tonight was going to be, it was going to be a good choice.

Seth is a good guy, and you’ve seen this for many years. Now, you are seeing him in a different light, one where his smile sends butterflies to your stomach rather than a simple “Daisy’s younger brother is so adorable” kind of way. One where you got to see the fun and excitable, puppy-dog energy side but also his serious and down-to-earth side where he could settle those feelings and be real with you.

“Now that I think about it, around that time she did start trying to push me for gossip on if I thought you were cute or if I was seeing anyone, because she was wanting to set me up with someone. And I’m going to safely bet that it was you.”

He chuckles and then clears his throat, becoming all serious again. But you have one more comment you need to get out.

“I love your smile,” you state. His cheeks redden slightly and your own smile tugs at your lips. “I’m not sure what it is about it, but every time I saw it in an interview, or some fun little video, and especially at Christmas, I can’t help but fall harder and harder each time.”

Your statement elicits that lovely smile from him, but in a more bashful sense, something you never thought you’d see.

“You’re so adorable,” you giggle, reaching up to hold his face in your hand as well. The tension between the two of you was thick, and with your breathing mixing together, you were starting to get dizzy from it all.

This was all so much.

“Can I…” he starts, but hesitates, trying to gauge the look in your eyes. He takes a deep breath and then continues. “Can I please kiss you now?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you from how he phrases his words. He sounded so desperate but also so careful.

“Please,” you beg quietly, inching your hands into his hair to tug at the locks at the back of his neck to pull him down towards you. Within seconds, your lips meet in a searing but gentle and nervous kiss, both of you testing the waters for now. But when Seth feels you leaning more into it, he deepens it just slightly, not wanting to go too far tonight, but also wanting you to know he’s serious about this and it wasn’t a one-off thing.

The kiss ends much to your dismay when Jarvy pulls back, his forehead resting against yours.

“Go on a date with me,” he all but demands. This elicits a giggle from you before you kiss him once more.

“Of course I will,” you reply, moving down to cuddle back up with him.

Finally, the two of you were settled in all cozy, no longer on edge and wondering if one thing is going to upset the other. Now that the admission of your feelings was done and over with, the two of you could relax against each other, knowing this meant more than just two friends falling asleep with one another.

With his soft touch running along your back, soothing you to sleep, you were out like a light in minutes, but Jarvy stayed up, watching whatever episode of your show that was on, often looking down at you to make sure you remained asleep.

He fell asleep not long after, the grin on his face remaining there like it was stuck forever, holding the person he loves most in the world, feeling like he was on cloud nine, knowing life could only get better now that you two had admitted your years-worth of pent up feelings

#seth jarvis #seth jarvis imagines #seth jarvis x reader #seth jarvis imagine #seth jarvis fanfic #hockey #hockey fanfic #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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dairy-farmer · 2 months

Note

You ever think about how Tim has NEVER had normal sex in his life?

Has only known superhumans and Peak Physical Condition trainwrecks?

Think about it. Who would he have lost his virginity too? Some grabby, gross, civilian he can't relate too? That reeks of B.O. and would ask QUESTIONS about his battle scars? Or his BROS? Who he trusts. Who love him and understand him. Who where THERE when he got those wounds.

Who would stop if he told them too.

He totally, after working up the courage, siddles up to Bart and asks if he... you know... could help him with something. Because Tim's NOT about to risk his first time to SuperStrength and complexe FEELINGS. And Bart is from the future. He's much more chill about this.

But he's? Also a fucking SPEEDSTER? They VIBRATE when they get excited. That same stamina that can let them run for what TO US, OUTSIDE the Speedforce, seems like hours? It's literally DAYS to THEM. Fuckers are stamina BEASTS.

But Tim is still learning, hasn't figured that out yet. Bart is his Fun Friend. Light hearted and chill. Good first time material.

So they fumble out of their clothes. Bart getting more and more hyped. Vibrating. Trying to stay in slow time with Tim. They fumble about, learning what touches feel good. Vibrating fingers on his clit? Feel REALLY good. The same for inside him. A little lubricant, because he read you're supposed too, aaand? Oh. Oh god.

And look, Bart DID try! It just felt... *incoherent noise*

Which leaves Tim getting fucked at superspeed. Nerves lighting up and muscles trying to react to something that's already moved on. Getting gushed into again and again like a stream that keeps coming, ruining his sheets. Feeling hands everywhere as the sensations catch up.

He can't possibly keep up. Gets offs so many times his brain decides its NAP TIME now. Wakes up to Bart panting into his neck, his puss full and gushing cum down into the PUDDLE under his hips, and another orgasm.

Tim learns that Speedsters tend to marathon their sex.

His everything feels bruised.

Bart has to fix his bed as Tim steals Bart's. But! No longer a virgin. And when he recovers? He TOTALLY gets the "deal" with sex now. (No he doesn't. Speedster sex is an outlier.)

Thing is? No one thinks to correct this misinformation. Why would they? OBVIOUSLY somebody ELSE gave Young Justice "The Talk", right? Nope. Individuals got it, but not as a team. Tim never got SHIT. He RESEARCHED.

Figured out "safe sex" is birth control and NOT letting the Half Kryptonian with super strength be "on top". You have to ride THEM or you risk bruises in delicate places and potentially broken bones. Luckily, Kon has TTK. So he can help.

When Tim doesn't want to do all the work or is tired, Kon can just... wrap him up in that full body hug of a telekinetic field. Lift him and slide him back down, as fast or as slow as feels good. Tease everywhere that feels good at once. Even if Tim drifts off, while Kon is teasing himself after making Tim orgasm, his whole body is supported so he can just sort of relax. Drift and feel good.

Let Kon use him for a bit.

It takes so LONG for Kon to cum, but Tim thinks they're getting better at it!

Of course, Batman would NEVER. Is distant. But Tim tries his best to be a good Robin. Bond in any way he can. It all falls short. Bruce brittle and hurting. Then? Some idiot tries to recreate Ivy's Pollen. She catches word. Does NOT appreciate that. It's a shit show.

Their masks hold. But in the fight, Batman is sent crashing into a crate of experimental samples. It wouldn't be a problem, if not for the metal joints of the crate stabbing JUST enough to break skin, though a weak point in his Armour.

They don't notice until the fights over. Long after an emergency counter-toxin would be effective.

Tim manages to get him to the Batmobile. Get them back. Agent A, has a fever and is upstairs. Fast asleep in bed. Can't help. The emergency Ivy counter agents will only go so far. Luckily, Tim knows where the napping couch is. It has a pull out bed.

Bruce doesn't put together his plan until he's already half removed the suit, his brain already sluggish and overheating. He tries to object, but it is strangled into a groan when Tim leans forward and tries his hand at using his mouth. Because to be honest, Tim isn't sure Bruce will FIT.

He barely fits a few inch in his mouth.

He's gonna have to try though. Pollen really only has one cure. And if Bruce had groaned at his mouth? He nearly sobs for air when Tim carefully rocks over him, lines up and breathes into the strain as he let's himself slide down. Bruce's hand shoot up to catch his hips, flexing like they want to slam him down and lift him off, like they a warring and can't decide.

But Bruce's hips know what they need. Are desperately rocking up. A little deeper. A little deeper. Impaling Tim on the biggest cock he's ever taken. Tim let's Bruce control things. Take what he needs. Rubs his clit to try and help with the strain. And then? He's so, SO full.

Bruce is rolling them. Hiking up his hips and leaning forward to rest his sweating forhead on Tim's shoulder. Holds him possesive and close as he fucks him. Slow at first them faster and faster. Harder. Until it feels like Tim's insides are being battered. Growling in his ear, his, his. His robin. Good boy, his.

Like something finally snapped and all the desperation finally fell out. The lust and greed.

It's like Bruce is trying to drain him of every orgasm he can possibly HAVE. Too much. He's so tired. It's good. Overwhelming. Goes on and on and ON. Surely he's cured now? Right? Tim drifts. Wakes up in Bruce's Bed. Weren't they in the cave? But Bruce is still inside him, rocking, gently and just to feel it. Shhh, shhh, go back to bed. Yeah. Okay.

Bruce is a lot nice after that though. They're closer. Tim has definitely found his bonding activity.

It works on Dick too. Who was between relationships. Depressed again. Lonely. And... well, Tim is so WARM. Feels so good to cuddle. Too bend in half in a good ol mating press and just? Get as close as he CAN. It's fun to eat him out until he sobs. Sit him in his lap like a cuddly little buddy and split him open, carry him around all day like that. Maybe Dick gets a little bit obsessed too. A little attached. Who's to say?

But! Each and every person? Who wants a piece? Not normal! Super human or frankly human outliers with intimacy issues that make them backed up! Tim who thinks Sex=Railed Into Oblivion! That you gotta SCHEDULE around it, because OBVIOUSLY you won't be able to walk or move after. This is normal and to be expected, right?

What do you MEAN "no"?

-🐼

tim being completely out of touch about what normal sex is supposed to be like 😭😭😭😭! the only people he's ever fucked has been people who are so beyond what could constitute as normal and all have conditioned tim to believe that sex is just LIKE that 😭

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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instarsandcrime · 2 months

Text

Feathers On a Hearth

Did I just write a 2,000+ word Huskerdust snz fic because I have no impulse control? The answer may not surprise you. Hope you enjoy!

Edit: Someone asked for a follow-up and well. Part 2 I guess!

“A day off?” Angel Dust slapped his upper hands on the counter, lower firm on his hips. “Whaddya mean a day off?!”

“My, my! Such a reaction!” The Radio Demon hummed from behind the bar, “I thought you’d be pleased that Husk asked for some relaxation time.”

“Of course I’m happy! That’s the problem!” The other fumed, picking nervously at the hem of a glove. “The bastard never takes his fifteen, let alone twenty four hours to himself. Even after the whole extermination shit went down and the hotel’s name was back up in lights, he opened up shop the next day like nothin’ happened!”

“Hm.” The Overlord’s fingers stilled above a wine glass, drifting into a trance. From a distant white fuzz of radio that traveled with the hotelier, Angel Dust heard bits and pieces of unknown voices, clipped nonsense like jagged edges of glass against a chalkboard.

Unknown help NEEDED uSefuL For meat.

“Alastor?” Angel Dust finally piped up, and his host seemed finished ruminating on the world’s most ominously displayed conclusion.

“I would love to uphold Husker's wishes for privacy. However, if it satiates your curiosity in any way, feel free to convince him otherwise.” Alastor snapped his fingers, and a door somewhere above unlocked with a sharp click, "The poor thing hasn’t come out of his room all day, and I admit it’s a bit disquieting to not have our bartender at the ready. Always waiting with a refreshing drink and a silver tongue...”

Pencil thin brows furrowed. Okay. Okay, fine. Either fuck over Husk’s boundaries– not a fan of goin’ down that road again– or risk it and make sure he’s okay. Regardless.

“Is this some kinda sick way of showin’ that you care about him?” Angel Dust squinted suspiciously.

A howling laughter cut the air like a knife. “O-oh! Ohohoh my! Th-that– ahaha– H-heavens, no!” Alastor wheezed out. “I want to see how badly this trainwreck goes! It's been quite a show to watch such a beloved actor even think about rubbing elbows with a washed up, wrung out has-been like Husker!”

Angel's face twisted, blushing scarlet with anger at a cackling studio audience that filled the bar. He couldn't help it-- whatever cadence, whatever tone, he'd heard the same exact laugh plenty of times with every tug of a chain. “I don’t get what Charlie sees in a creepy, sadistic fucker like you. But y’know what? I hope you get to the top. I hope you get everythin’ you want. Because when you look down from your sad, dinky little radio tower, no one is gonna be there to watch.”

Flashing his last two arms just to flip Alastor off with his entire being, Angel Dust spun on his heel to storm up the steps. And all too faintly, he heard one last little hiccup of a broadcast. He stopped at the haunting swell of violins, nearly tugged backwards by the sobbing of a woman reaching out to embrace her savior.

Thank you.

The tapping of Alastor’s staff and his hushed string of curses were nothing compared to the smug smirk that nearly split Angel’s face.

“Hey Whiskers, it’s me!” A knock echoed on Husk’s freshly crafted door, pentacle etchings still bonded to the knotted wood.

His calls were only met with silence.

“C’mon, I ain’t gonna try anything. We’re past all that and you know it.”

The silence persisted. A louder knock. Shit. Alastor was definitely not the type to play a prank, and Husk definitely wasn’t the type to stay quiet forever.

“You okay? You ain’t bleedin’ out on the carpet, right?” He worried his bottom lip, running a thumb against sore knuckles. “...Husker?”

“I heard you the first time.” A gruff voice answered. Oh thank fuck.

“Then what're ya waitin' for? Let a gal in, would ya?”

“Can't.”

“Alright, fine. Then I'll do it myself.”

“No!” A tornado warning seemed to go off the second the doorknob was even slightly turned. All sorts of bits and bobs were haphazardly knocked about in a cacophony of noise. Somewhere along the way the chaos settled for a brief moment, ragged breaths building and building until--

"Ht'shhuh! Hut'CHNX! HHHT'CHNXT'uh!" The sound of shattered glass pierced the air, and Angel Dust nearly jumped in place at the sharp yelp that followed.

"Hey, what the Hell!?"

“I'm okay, don’t-- kaff kaff! don't move. I’ll come to you.” Husk croaked. The door finally crept open and– oh.

“Oh. Oh, wow.” The spider whistled at the sad sight before him. “Ya look like shit.”

Or at least, the little bits that poked out. The bartender’s bedsheets were wrapped around him like a patchwork cocoon, making every second standing a heavy, tangled effort for the shivering bundle. Underneath the makeshift hood that covered his head, the fur on his face was matted with sweat, a single claw pressed just below a flushed nose. His eyes were squinting through a bleary fog, as if it took his entire being just to concentrate.

“Nice t’ see you too. Listen. I’m obviously sick, so if you need somethin’ from me just grab it and go.”

Okay, rude. This was not the kind of hot mess Husk usually was-- at least, not six months into their trauma bond. And strange enough, his room was no different. Card collections, casino chips, beer bottles, all the little things were flung every which way. But the most bizarre was a trash can haphazardly stuffed to the brim with red and black feathers, peppered by wads of clawed-through tissues.

“Uhhhh.” Angel Dust's brow furrowed at the sea of half-broken junk, “I don’t need nothin’, but I’m pretty sure if I did then I'd need to ask a gravedigger first.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake– then what do you want?!” Husk snapped. Angel stilled, surging through ten different emotions at once. But the sickly demon only landed on one, eyes wide with overflowing guilt. He hunched low, retreating towards his bed with wobbling steps. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to– I. I’m just not feelin’ right. Snf! But I'll be better by t-tuhh-tomorrow. Jus’…just forget thihhh-this ever…ever ha-happened.”

Angel Dust watched on in disbelief, mouth slightly agape. Maybe Charlie, Princess of Friendship, could have calmly negotiated with the bartender. Maybe she could have sung a song to magically solve a lesson of the day. Maybe she could have shown love and kindness and all the redemption bullshit that he'd come to respect. But Angel Dust was not Charlie. Angel Dust was Angel Dust. So, with all the love and kindness in his heart, the spider stepped a foot on the blankets and yanked his friend backwards. And caught off guard, Husk released the claw that kept a worrying tickle at bay.

"Hhhuhh...huh! Hup'shhhoo! Hup'SSHHHUH! Sh-shihhh-shihht nohhh-not agaaaiihhhh…Heh! HETCHHH'HOO!" A pair of wings involuntarily flapped at the small fit, sending a small firework of feathers into the air. Patchy, bare spots that once balanced the owlcat sent him stumbling on the ever-tilting floorboards. And suddenly, body moving before his mind could, Angel Dust hurriedly caught the other in a low dip. Tangled under his partner's shadow, Husk’s red-tipped ears folded until they practically pressed against his skull.

“Snff! Uh. Thanks.” He swallowed.

“No problem.” Angel echoed, stopping to blow a feather from his mussed bangs.

“...You can let go now.”

“If I do, are ya goin' to fall before you even touch the bed?”

Husk's pause lasted a second too long.

“That's what I thought. Now, I’m gonna lead with your shoulder and your waist. And it'll just be touch and nothin' else, cross my heart.”

“Hey, you– kaff! offered to help me out. If there’s an issue that you’re lookin’ for, I couldn’t see one if I tried.” The other mumbled, unsure if he could get any redder. “But thanks for the heads up, Ange. I mean it.”

Gently the spider guided him with four sturdy arms, the third pair growing to snatch up his shed blankets along the way. Looking down, Angel’s heart suddenly squeezed as the cat in his hold immediately fought sleep at the touch, head lolling against his chest.

“Soooo. You can molt?” Angel squeezed his shoulder playfully.

“...Mm. Sucks, but I always push– snff! Ugh, push through it.” Husk grumbled, scrubbing his eye with a paw to force himself awake. Looking anywhere but at his helper.

“Oh, please! You know I ain’t stoppin’ here, right? I’ve fucked a lotta demons with wings and I gotta say, those bad boys ain't gonna pity ya anytime soon. 'Specially paired with that cold've yours.” He pushed Husk onto the mattress, ignoring the soft grunt that followed. “Now lay down.”

Finally relenting, his patient rolled onto his stomach, pressing a pillow over his head to muffle his thoughts for two entire seconds– or at least while his back and nose had stopped itching something awful. Because without realizing it a warm smolder had filled his chest, sparked at the onslaught of attention. It was the cold. It was just the cold. It was not the sheer audacity of being needy for once in his miserable life. Goddamnit, when had he suddenly become so needy?

“Good boy.” A voice whispered gently, breath hot against his bare back. Yep, that's nausea. Definitely nausea and nothing else. Husk quickly stomped out the growing flame before it could spread any further. Unfortunately, a different sensation crawled up his nose, and he pressed the feather-stuffed fabric against his muzzle. Desperate to not deal any more damage. He was supposed to be the hotel’s bartender. He was supposed to be Angel Dust's bartender. It was his job to look out for the struggling souls around him, not the other way arou--

"Huh! Hhhhuuhhh...F-fuck."

"Need help?"

“Wh-whuhh— Snff! What?” Craning his head, the tip of a discarded feather tickled the rim of his nostrils, and whatever pained torture Husk would have had to grin and bear was swapped with another.

"HUP'CHOO! HUT'CHHHOO! Hhhuhhh...hhhuh!...hah hhahhhhHTCH'HUH! Hhhhhuuhhh.......hhhuhh.....hguhh...snff! Ow." Between ragged gulps for air, he heard the thump of books and bottles fall from the high shelves above. He didn't even want to look at the state of his room right now. Instead he blindly grabbed for a tissue, sharp trumpeting blows intertwined with flustered apologies.

He regretted even thinking about opening his eyes. He would have rather sneezed himself into a second death than deal with the disaster that regularly re-disorganized itself. But vision clearing, he blinked back shock as Angel Dust already had a mop in hand, cleaning supplies at the ready. Steam curled against the cat demon’s cheek, and he turned to see a rag was already soaking on the nightstand. Mystified, the bartender watched as his patron stop mid-task to slide it forward, a welcoming smile on his face. The bowl seemed to move in an oddly nostalgic way. Like the film strip of a memory that didn’t quite catch the light.

Or the offer of a refreshing drink and a silver tongue.

"...This is stupid." Husk finally broke the silence.

"Ugh, I know right? The books are no big deal, but whisky's gonna be a bitch to get outta the carpet. I'll have to grab Niffty before it stains--"

"No. I mean, you don't need t’ clean up after me. I...I-I can do it myself." Husk mumbled, pushing himself upright– or rather, made a daring attempt before collapsing back on the mattress.

Angel Dust stared. Really stared. Throwing aside the handle in his palm, he rested two right hands on his hip. “Husk. Sugar. Sweetheart. Babydoll. You dragged me kickin’ and screamin’ outta bad days plenty of times. What's wrong with me doin’ the same for you?”

“Oh c’mon, we both know that I can do all this bullshit myself. Cleanin’ my room. Washin’ my wings. Why do you need t’ be my personal assistant for the day when you're so busy dealin’ with the studio! 'Specially with Him bitchin’ and moanin’ and runnin' you ragged! I see you stumble through the door at three in the morning, clutching your stomach like it got whittled to nothin’! He orders you around like a goddamn dog on a leash, and then you come home to what? Take care of another asshole like me? Why should some shitty ex-overlord get the same kinda treatment?”

--rubbing elbows with a washed up, wrung out has-been--

Oh.

Oh that motherfucker.

"You--" Angel Dust felt his blood boil, chasing away the ghost of radio static that crawled under his skin. “Are you fuckin' kidding me?!”

Husk jolted, fur puffing in surprise as Anthony pulled him onto his lap. “Stop bein' a dumbass! You deserve this. You deserve to be pampered. If ya think I’m here because I feel pressured and not because you’re actually– oh I dunno, worth bein’ cared for– then let me make things crystal fuckin’ clear for you.”

“Kid–” Overgrown pleas were cut at the stem, body going limp as a steaming cloth trailed down bone dry wings. And as dark thoughts began to drift, the spider rested his chin on the crook of Husk’s neck. One by one he plucked every warped thought with every warped feather.

"You ain't forcin' me to do nothin'. You ain't payin' me as a client. You ain't no toxic ex. And you definitely ain't like Valentino. So get it through your thick skull-- I don't hang around ya 'cause I need to." Cupping a flushed cheek for good measure, Anthony ever so slightly tilted a hypnotized gaze his way. "I do it because I want to."

Faces flushed and heavy-lidded with bliss, the actor forgot himself, bathing in the silence. The peace. The safe haven he called Husk.

The other, very predictably, pulled back to sneeze.

Husk buried his muzzle in a tissue before he could give his drinking buddy-- friend-- partner-- whoever the fuck was in front of him at this point in time an impromptu shower.

"'CHNX! CHNXT'hhhooo...hhhuh! HUH'ASHHHOO!" He cautiously peeked open an eye, blinking back shock when his wings didn't snap open. Instead they continued to lay there, well-washed and preened to perfection. So with a shaky breath he lit the spark in his chest, allowing it to burn gently through his ribcage like it was a small, rusty hearth. Swallowing down a soft purr before it could escape.

"Wait, wait, wait." Yanked back to reality Angel Dust grabbed the cat demon’s shoulder to spin him around, looking him dead in the eye. "Am I crazy, or do you sneeze in triples every time? That’s. Adorable."

"Oh shuuhhh…hhuh!" A blur of a black and red feather swept under his prickling nostrils, fanged smirk kissing the base of downy barbs between lithe fingers.

"Hhhhuh! You s-suhhnofa-a-aahh!...hhhah…” Husk held his breath like his afterlife depended on it, desperately scrubbing at his muzzle to quell the angry itch. Startling when Angel’s lips pecked the tip of his raw nose.

Shit.

“F-fuhhhcking ch-ch-chhheater– Hhhept'choo!" Husk doubled over into the nearly-shredded tissue.

"Oh my goodness, bless you!" The spider demon cooed teasingly. "One."

"Sh-shuhhht…sh-shu-shut the fuck uhhp-- HUP'CHHH’hhoo!"

"Yeesh! That was a big one. Two."

"Guuuuhhh...g-gonna kihh-kill youhhhuuhhh-hhuh-huh-hah! HATCH'HHHOO!"

"Hah! I knew it! Holy shit, that’s so cute!" Angel Dust gushed through bouts of uncontrollable laughter-- rudely interrupted when a pillow smacked him square in the face.

#snz #snz fic #ha//zb//in//ho//tel//#hu//sker//dust #an/gel/du/st #hu/sk

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