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the-possum-writes · 9 months

Note

a finn nsfw alphabet please :)

(I don't speak English that's why so sharp) no se si se entendio

Finn Mertens NS/FW Alphabet

A/n: No te preocupes también hablo español nvn Yippi my first alphabet!

Taglist: @watchingfromthefloorboards @foxpearlwilder

A = Aftercare

He's very affectionate and somewhat clingy, Finn would lay with you for a while before getting you a towel or something to eat/drink.

B = Body part

Finn likes his arms and hands even though they're calloused or riddled with tiny scars, because they remind him that he's strong enough to protect you from many evildoers.

As for his partner's, I'd say he isn't picky but he does like any part of you he can grab a handful and squeeze when cuddling (boobs, tummy, thigh)

C = Cum

It's kinda bitter to the taste because he really likes junk food, but beside that, it's usually a healthy creamy color and a jelly like consistency. He likes cumming inside and over you but would wear condoms if you ask him to, is particularly fond of dirtying your chest and/or face.

D = Dirty Secret

Back during his younger years he'd have this one fantasy about saving someone and they'd give their thanks via a favor of the oral kind. Maybe someday he'll tell you about it for a role play session.

E = Experience

Quite experienced. Finn is well liked, popular, has the confidence and carisma to smooch princesses during the breezy episode so that leads me to think he's gonna get around more often once he's older.

F = Favourite Position

Depending on his mood. If Finn has been out adventuring and hasn't seen you in a while he'd be all over you and would want to be as close to you as possible, like spooning behind you or simplistic missionary. But if he just came back from fighting a monster you know it still has his his blood pumping, he'd wanna take you down to pound town either doggy style or mating press.

G = Goofy

Finn is a silly guy, he'd say a pun or two if he's feeling inspired in the moment. He would also start chuckling if your body makes flatulent-like noises (when a little of air gets trapped in between thrusts and sounds like a gas because of the lube/sweat) during a heated session.

H = Hair

Doesn't usually groom himself downstairs so it's kinda bushy, like sometimes he'll trim it if he's in the shower and notices it's getting out of hand but most of the time Finn doesn't really care that much. You can sorta tell when was the last time he groomed himself (without seeing him naked) by measuring the hair length on his face and head. The color is a bit darker than the blond ones on his head, but still fairly similar.

I = Intimacy

Finn is very romantic, he's one to take things slow and enjoy the moment. He's attentive to your needs and a general sweetheart overall but he can also get overexcited at times and drives you to tears with pleasure, he would make sure you feel loved afterwards, spewing compliments and how much he loves you.

J = Jack Off

Finn didn't really jack off that often before meeting you since he shared a room with his bro but he would occasionally rub one off in the bathroom if he was in the mood. After meeting you though, he'd much rather satisfy that urge with you than alone, but if he's far away during a mission for PB he'd choose to wait it out until he got back to you.

L = Location

There's always the comfort and familiarity of your bedroom but another top contender would be the outdoors, he travels alot so camping in a tent in the middle of nowhere can be very relaxing for him, especially with no one around so he can have you as noisy as he wants.

M = Motivation

Anything you do has his neurons activate no matter if you're dancing, bending over the shelves or wearing that cute new outfit you bought the other day. But if you really wanna push all his buttons at once you just need to grab your weapon of choice and go adventuring with him, the moment he sees you fighting off monsters he'll be all over you like a bee on a flower.

N = NO

Finn doesn't like seeing you hurt, so anything with sharp objects or degrading vocabulary isn't on the table for him.

O = Oral

Prefers to be on the receiving end. Isn't that good at giving cause he gets sloppy lost in it and doesn't coordinate his hands when added to the mix.

P = Pace

Depending on his mood. But most of the time, rough and enthusiastic.

Q = Quickie

Isn't against the idea of lazy sex in the morning, but he'd rather do things properly to savor you instead of rushing it.

R = Risk

Doesn't take risks regarding public locations. Finn is resilient to most pains so he's willing to try out new things like impact play or wax play on himself, kinda unsure about bondage on himself but is interested in seeing you tied up.

S = Stamina

Impecable stamia. You'll never be able to outlast him and if you dare challenge him you can bet you'll be sore for days.

T = Toy

Wouldn't mind the occasional vibrator to tease and prepare you with, though that's about it cause the dildos makes him a teeny bit jealous (he wishes it was him instead) .

He doesn't own any toys himself since he doesn't jack it on his own, nor would he be interested in any on him. (might be open to you wearing a strap on if you ask enough)

U = Unfair

Fair. Finn enjoys teasing as long as it's in the bedroom like when you point out how badly he's spilling precum, however he's not a fan of it in public cause it's very obvious when he gets flustered since his face turns all shades of red. Just be warned, if you do tease him he'll return it once you two get some alone time.

V = Volume

Learned to be quiet back at the tree house but when you get him alone he can get unabashedly loud. Can go from desperate whimpers to legitimate growling.

W = Wild Card

Is most likely a switch, leans more to a sub role cause he likes being told what to do (Bubblegum sending him out to missions, and being Marceline's henchman awoke something in him)

X = X-Ray

Average size, roughly around 8 inches, he's a grower. Uncut, shaft is a bit darker than his usual skin tone with a bright tip.

Y = Yearning

Moderately high, like even when he's not a young man anymore with his hormones all over the place he still get riled up pretty easily.

Z = ZZZ

It takes a while for him to go to sleep, mainly because he waits until you're out first.

#finn mertens x reader #finn the human #adventure time x reader #reader insert #Character alphabet

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beyond-the-rabbit-hole · 3 days

Text

Guilty Party

Features: Vaquero and his Evan

Warnings: violence, morbid speech, all caps text

“missed me?" HABIT spat the words at Evan like he'd been given a pipebomb wrapped in a bow rather than a Christmas gift, "that's cute, really. hey, i'd miss me too if all i did was sit on my ass and mindlessly watch movies and beg for people to pay attention to me. oh yeah, i'm dropping the cowboy act for this one, sugarcube."

Panic in wide gray eyes huddled in the corner of the room Evan swore would be his demise- everything was tossed asunder from a little game of ring around the rosy. The couch was flipped over, the coffee table crashed into the tv, broken wood and chairs to turn the house into a landmine of splinters.

"i bet you don't even know what to do with yourself without me! if you did you wouldn't still be living this same damn life, this same damn day over and over. we'd be off somewhere new by now, wouldn't we? somewhere fun, somewhere exciting, building up a brand new life. but no, even without your HABIT you're still just like every other rabbit clinging to me. my story, my iterations, my everything."

Evan mumbled something about being trapped in the cycle, about there being no way out.

"NO, HABIT hissed, "YOU KEEP TELLING YOURSELF THAT ALL OVER AGAIN BUT YOU ARE NOT AN INNOCENT VICTIM. YOU ARE BLIND, YOU CHOOSE TO BE BLIND SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO SEE IT! BECAUSE YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH, YOU NEVER COULD!"

He crouched down in front of Evan with a wide smirk and whispered, "you want to know the truth? you want to know what's been sitting right under your nose? you could leave any time you wanted."

He waited paitently for a response, anything to reward HABIT for the enticing information he just dropped. Nothing, nothing but cowardice.

"you don't believe me," he chuckled, "all you have to do is shut up and change. change your habits. control me. you are what happens when you do not control me."

A weak protest, not a single word even worth remembering. It was a shaky, half cobbled excuse.

"JUST SHUT UP AND DO IT!" HABIT cackled, "CMON ITS THAT EASY! JUST SHUT UP AND DO IT."

Evan would laugh at that meme if he didn't feel like his very life was being threatened. Hands clamped over his ears and eyes squeezed tight so he didn't have to hear his booming voice, didn't have to see that blood-soaked smile on his very own face.

"BUT YOU WON'T WILL YOU? AFTER ALL I GAVE YOU, AFTER ALL I'D DONE FOR YOU, YOU'RE STILL JUST A COWARD. A WEAKLING, A PATHETIC LITTLE WRETCH UNDER MY HEEL. GUESS THATS MY FAULT FOR NOT MAKING YOU SOLVE YOUR OWN PROBLEMS, HUH?" Evan couldn't block it out, no matter how hard he tried. He wound up tighter into his ball. He really felt like a coward, he hid like one, trembled like one, cried like one. He wanted to snap bite fight rip tear punch but why? Why fight? He couldn't move his own body. Maybe he'd have plausible deniability if he just stayed here.

"YOU STILL WON'T ANSWER ME! HOW HILARIOUS." HABIT stomped over and smacked away Evan's arms like pieces of trash left in the room and gripped his chin. He forced Evan to look up at him with those pretty tear filled doe eyes and sunk his hand lower. Around Evan's throat now he swallowed into HABIT'S palm, gulped into it as he should. He was Evan's very life force, the very thing that got him here and the only thing keeping his dumbass alive and he would drink in air like ambrosia from his hand, at his command. And he could take it away whenever he liked. Evan's feet scraped against the wall not the floor now, brows high and knit and teeth bared in a submissive grimace with tears and sweat pooling and dripping down his face in a sopping pathetic mess the same way a dog would after its owner shoved it down into a puddle of its own piss.

"I GAVE EVERYTHING TO YOU. I PROTECTED YOU, AND I DID IT SO WELL YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW ABOUT THE PROBLEM. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT HE DID, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW THAT OUR DAD IS DEAD AND REPLACED BY AN IMPOSTER. YEAH, LOOKING REAL SHOCKED NOW, HUH? PRICELESS. YOU SHOULD SEE THE PITIFUL PRICELESS LOOK ON YOUR FACE." he cackled. "NOPE, WRONG AGAIN! I DIDN'T DO IT THIS TIME!"

HABIT could not stop laughing. He dragged Evan up to the bathroom and ducked his head into the sink.

"AWWW WERE YOU WORRIED I WAS GONNA WATERBOARD YOU? WE DON'T EVEN HAVE RUNNING WATER DUMBASS! AND WHO'S FAULT IS THAT, HUH?"

He threw Evan down on the floor. He curled up and whimpered like HABIT had kicked him.

"I DID EVERYTHING FOR YOU AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN GET YOURSELF A PLACE WITH THE BASIC FUCKING NECESSITIES FOR YOUR OWN PITIFUL SURVIVAL. AND YOU'RE OKAY WITH THIS? I WANT MORE, WE DESERVE MORE THAN THIS BUT NO, TO YOU THE COST IS JUST TOO DAMN HIGH. ITS TOO HARD TO KEEP A FUCKING JOB WITH ALL YOUR BAD HABITS, TOO HARD TO JUMP SKIP AND A HOP INTO A BETTER TIMELINE, A BETTER LIFE FOR US BOTH. WE COULD HAVE SO MUCH MORE IF YOU STOPPED GIVING INTO YOUR BAD HABITS! BUT YOU'LL NEVER DO THAT, YOU'LL NEVER PUT AN OUNCE OF ENERGY DESPITE EVERYTHING THATS BEEN GIVEN TO YOU."

"...people have died because they loved you and wanted the best for you. and you wasted it."

Tethers sprouted from HABIT and attached to Evan, hooking their limbs together. He pulled him closer and clasped Evan's hands and spun him around like a ballerina in a music box, posed pretty and twirling beyond his own control. He went in for a dip and waggled his eyebrows at him.

Evan dropped to the floor. He glanced into the bathroom mirror. And there was just him. Tired, sunken eyes and nails dug into his skin. There was only him.

#emh #everymanhybrid #habit emh #habit everymanhybrid #slenderverse #text post #killa speakin #killa drabble #killa vaquero

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dolls-self-ships · 3 months

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Do you have any advice for drawing in the Aardman style?

alright so I'm literally in the bathtub writing this so if you would like some visuals let me know but basically- take everything you know about facial human anatomy (ok well maybe not EVERYTHING) and throw it out the window. First you're gonna want to identify the classic "aardman face" (which I actually have a sketch of and will post to this later). Expressions are often vacant, awkward, and a bit silly, but it's all part of the charm. Avoid the urge to make everything super stretchy and expressive (this is particularly hard for me bc I have put blood sweat tears and years into trying to adopt the "expressive fluid" style to my art), remember these characters are made out of plastacine, they actually look closer to how a real human face emotes than how, say, a d*sney or p*xar at character does (not as exaggerated, more grounded in reality).

Another thing I'd like to mention is that I don't copy the aardman style to an exact t, I still incorpeerate my personal tastes and how I like to draw into it (making the eyes a little more spaced, giving the chickens more wing-like hands instead of just actual humanoid hands), so don't be afraid to add your own little flavour/flare to it! That's the beauty of art is that no two people are ever going to be able to draw the same art style in the exact same way, so might as well have fun with it.

But, as a general rule for aardman, focus more on the essence of the character rather than how "aesthetically pleasing" they look. They mostly have goofy little round eyes, curved mouths (actually really similar to how smiles are drawn in Steven universe, think of the bean shape), and larger hands (I love them hehe).

I also advise just looking at behind the scenes of aardman and studying the way the figurines look, how they're moved from frame to frame, etc. Just really look at them and try your best to translate it into paper, at the end of the day it really comes down to practicing! Or just scribbling until you feel like you've made something good, that's what I do sometimes.

#ask #im not an art teacher or anything though so just take everything i said with a cup of salt #not a grain. a cup. bc thats how much i am talking out of my ass

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thehoundwrites · 2 years

Text

Nightmares

Werewolf!Sevika x female reader: Part 2

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

CW: dead dove do not eat, dark content, blood, gore, injuries, reader has a break down, nightmare, attachment issues, suicide mentions, animal attack, guns, alcohol, violence, smoking, possessive Sevika

Shout out to @nora-xox for being my beta reader

Tagging: @sevikasleftpussyflap (you convinced me to post this first) @nora-xox @colourfulkidglitter @midnightsk13s @iwritesmuttyfics @witxhy-lexx @biphrogg @thebleccbird @lucky13les @petitepersephone

Words: 1876

The transformation is something you'll never forget, the feeling of your bones breaking your skin ripping apart at it's seems, to your own volition. The choice you have to make, do I put the gun to my mouth and end it all. Or do I change.

No one ever chooses the former. Except one.

His greying beard fell with his jaw, blood covering his large now bare chest as I frantically moved to patch his wounds as he taught me. The claw marks of a beast tearing him, as it did me. His eyes somehow held the hope he always spoon fed to others. I however knew the truth. He was just as terrified as the rest of us.

The fire he held in them faded. "Vi… Powder" he croaked eyes maintaining contact with them.

"C'mon now, you know they're fine"

"No"

"They're sitting over there resting, see" it was hard hiding the panic in my voice. It usually came naturally. Like an instinct to hide.

"Wasn't-" his words slurred lowly basically croaking through his stiff body.

"VANDER."

"Hmm, protect our family Sevika"

"They're okay"

"No- That wasn't an animal"

"It was a wolf Sir"

"A werewolf"

My silence left him the opening he was waiting for.

The next thing that happened was one I'd never forget, I wouldn't have known what he did if I didn't notice the movement in his hands.

"The family Sev"

But then he slumped and his blood splattered over my white T Shirt.

Sevika sat straight up, her grey eyes practically glowing in the dark, her scars going up her ribs stung in pain. She was warm, sweat dripped down her forehead, and when she wiped it away she noticed tears.

She wore nothing but a black tank top and boxers, yet she walked to the kitchen to grab some water, and check on the girl. Her eyes flashed into the dark seeing your face made her stiffen, there was a peaceful look and you snuggled with your pillow. She took a few sips of her drink watching your peaceful slumber before laying back down.

She tested her palms on the cold satin sheet that was splayed out across her mattress. She could clean them all she wanted but she could never get the blood off of them.

Yea. She wasn't going back to bed. Sevika grabbed a bottle of jack, and sat on the couch across from you and lit a cigar, sighing heavily letting the tension leave her chest, yet quiet enough so you wouldn't wake. You'd think she'd stop having nightmares after ten years.

(Your pov)

The pognant stench of cigars is one that didn't leave your nose for a while. Although you much preferred this dry aroma to the copper smell of the night before.

Your eyes lingered across the thick of her body, as she walked away. Inside of you, you were rather conflicted from everything that's happened. You wanted to trust her, the fact that she saved you, the fact that you're alive. All screamed for you to throw yourself at her knees and thank her. Yet there was a part of you that told you this was a horrible idea, that you should run. That's she was a monster, she must've killed that guy, but. Who else has she killed?

Your memories flared as you tried to recall more of the attack, you tried and tried but it only came rushing back to you bits and pieces.

That was the woman who was drenched in blood, carrying you away from the attack. She must've bandaged you, dressed you, fed you. But why?

You weren't sure why you stayed either. In fact the feeling of anxiety never left your side despite the reluctance you had for moving at the moment.

Your hands lingered over the spots of your body the woman's fingers had touched. How much had she seen? A sense of embarrassment made your face pale and your stomach queasy.

You were out. And when you woke up you felt a bit of a wet spot on your pillow. Your body must've needed it.

The pain wasn't excruciating today, in fact it was rather bearable. You could feel most of your body, and the bandages no longer were soaked with blood.

You remember calling your friend and hearing their ringtone yet they weren't around.

Your hands sifted through your clothes, today she had brought out a black T-shirt and more sweatpants.

How many grey sweatpants can one woman own?

But your phone wasn't there. Anxiety fled turning into full on panic, if you didn't have your phone how could anyone contact you?

"What's up"

The gruff voice startled you, you looked up and your eyes widened.

"How long have you been there?"

Silence. She didn't seem to want to be friendly.

Your eyebrows furrowed.

"Why did you save me?"

"I plugged your phone in over there." The woman said pointing next to your couch behind your head.

"Oh" you let out a sigh of relief "thank you"

She snorted, smirking a bit.

"Names Sevika"

"Wh- Oh. That's a nice name"

"Tsk" you noticed the bottle of whiskey in one hand while the other raised a cigarette to her lips.

"Rough night?"

"What d'yo think kid?"

You scolded yourself in your head but stayed silent looking at your phone. It wasn't early, it was almost midday.

"My name's ____"

"I know"

"Oh"

Silence again. She wasn't very good at holding conversations.

"I'm Rans friend."

"Y'know Ran!?" You smiled at her eyes lit up with a new gleam.

"They're practically family"

"Oh shit! Do they know what happened?"

She huffed and pulled herself to the couch, you couldn't help but notice her eyes linger.

"How did you meet that vampire?"

"Are you gonna answer any questions?"

"No, and you won't be leaving until you answer my questions"

"YOU CAN'T JUST KEEP ME HERE!"

"I can, answer"

"I uh, I met him at the bar."

You felt her tense

"Do you go to back alleys with strange men all the time or what?"

"NO of course not, what do you take me for sevika?"

"Dumb. Bad judge of character, a problem, kinda pretty"

"Pretty?"

"Is that really what you're taking from this?"

"What other questions do I have to answer before I'm released"

She sighed. "Why do you have to be so difficult"

"What did I even do now?"

"Nothing, Rans gonna be here soon so calm down"

"Okay"

"Is Ran a wolf too? They don't have ears"

"Rans a different type of wolf."

You knew you weren't going to get anymore out of her so you took the jack from her hand and took a swig grimacing at the taste.

"That tastes like shit"

She laughed, and you caught the small smile that peered on her face as she sat down next to you

"You'll learn to love it." She said, patting your shoulder softly. That soft touch lit a fire in both of you and you looked at her.

She cleared her throat "D'you need anything, breakfast, toothbrush, shower?"

"Not yet, my body is still really numb"

Her grey eyes scanned your body. "You were missing a lot of blood"

She got up, your body already missed the heat she was giving off. She came back in and tossed a bottle of water at you.

"Drink, I have to let ran in"

You nodded, grabbing the water bottle. It made you feel a bit nauseous to put something in your mouth but it'll make you feel better so you take a few small sips.

Rans voice was familiar to you, and when you heard it you got excited. "Ran!"

Their figure appeared in the doorway behind Sevika as they both walked in together sitting on the couch across from you.

"Hey angel, I'm glad you're doing okay.'

Sevika chimed in "it probably hasn't hit yet."

And to no one's surprise it did when she said it. Your head spun recalling the horrifying events of the other night, your eyes zoned out, and you were back. There with him.

"Oh my God"

"Shit" you heard Sevika curse. Ran got up over to you and flicked the lighter in your face, which made you snap out of your trance.

"He can't hurt you, you're under our protection."

"But- he had so many bodies Ran"

"It's okay he can't hurt anyone else."

"Oh my God, I can't go back can I"

"One thing at a time." The. You felt a bit of a familiar hand on your thigh, the one that lights your nerves aflame. And a deep gruff voice "it'll be okay, you can stay here with the pack. And we can still do normal things, we all work at a bar and you can work there too"

Your blushed looking at her her face was so close, her grey eyes lingered on you her thumb moving back and forth on the clothing that covered your skin.

"But my friends-"

"Are safer without you"

Ran cut in "for now, until we can guarantee your safety"

"But I don't get it, why me." Sevika stood quickly making you flinch. Before her calloused fingers gripped your cheeks holding your head in both her hands. They were touch and veiny, tattoos covering one of them, it almost made her arm look mecha.

"Look at me" you couldn't help the way your eyes darted to her lips as she leaned in her hot breath inches away from you.

"It's going to be okay"

"But-" your eyes darted down.

"Her thumb lifted your chin "Look at me" you nodded and raised your eyes mumbling and apology.

"It's gonna be okay I promise"

(Sevika time)

It was magnetic, the way her voice sounded, the way she looked at me, the way she breathed. My gut turned threatening to flip, yet my stayed composed.

Until Ran comforted her. I got… angry..

But then I didn't know what else to do. I wanted to help her. I needed to. And I did. But the way she stared at my lips, the way I can feel her emotions, her sadness, her rage, her fear, her excitement to see Ran, her lust for me. It was all threatening the beast and my stomach churned.

Sevika ended up leaving shortly after you put on TV and fell back to sleep.

"What's wrong with you"

"What"

"You're acting weird"

Sevika sipped her coffee "I'm not doing this"

"What happened while I was gone"

"Nothing I couldn't sleep so I drank, the usual"

"We're best friends you know you can tell me anything"

"Good to know."

"What do you wanna fuck her?"

"I wanna fuck you what's the difference?"

"Oh so you wanna date her."

"Ran you're almost 30 years old"

"Sevika and ___ sitting in a tree"

"Enough" Sevika said, a growl in her words. And that was all it took. "I'm the alpha not you"

"Yea, sorry"

"I have to keep order, friends or not. If you step out of line then what? Dustin? Shoola? Lock? How do you think HE would feel about Lock, Ran."

"Okay I'm sorry I get it."

"But you're acting weird"

She sighed, tossing her cup in the sink and walking out.

#sevika #arcane #sevika x reader #werewolf sevika #queue never learned patience

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toestalucia · 2 months

Text

Kou: What? You don't…have chocolate for me this year? Can I ask why? >I heard that you can't give foxes chocolate.

LOSING MY MIND CUZ 1) <-person who literally sent that question (but seriously) to venom IM GONNNAAAAAAAA 2) captain bullying a 12yo AGAIN is so fkng funny to me. but also kou who at this point is ssooo honest.......no wonder he's getting teased LOL him & you are both so cute

Caro: Whether you're an artist or not, it's important to nurture your heart.

m...mahoyaku......

Lu Woh: Even more so if the purpose of such practice is meant for one who has piqued your interest for reproduction. I repeat—I am one of the Six Dragons.

THIS ONE MADE ME LOSE IT. LIKE FIRST HES ALL 'we 6 dragons dont need stuff like food etc to survive this is wasted provisions' THEN HE SAID THIS AND IMMMMMMMMMMMMM LMFAAOOOOOO would u like to speak with helel ben shalem about the bees and the flowers i think itd be hilarious af & hell for captain. lu woh who was too honest about vyrn to the point of pissing of captain (rare moment) to lu woh who says this i dont think i can do this anymore chat

Ragazzo: Wha? Ch-chocolate? For me? Ah… Well, I mean, it's not like I didn't notice your feelings for me or anything— Huh? You're…handing them out to everybody? R-right, yeah, I knew that. Yep. In other words, you're giving chocolate to all the crew members as a token of friendship. Thanks. I appreciate it.

ragazzo playing tough only to be hit with the 'actually i give everyone' IS SSOOOOO FUNNYYYYYY LOLLLLL GOD let this turn into captain teasing him every year. i need terrible pranks. i miss captain & seofon 'u give/get chocolate to/from other ppl?:(' shenanigans (pls read seofons vday & white days, comedy deluxe). that but onesided, considering ragazzo......

Freyr: I see. So you slipped off a cliff while trying to pick that fruit. That was rather reckless of you in such poor weather.

fullkawa honpo's alice mention !!!!!!! (its not)

Balurga: What? Your hand slipped because you were tired from staying up all night making chocolate? Skull: You stayed up? After spending the past couple days busy with requests? That means you've barely slept at all… Do you got chocolate for brains? Go to bed, right now! I'll tuck you in and sing you a lullaby if I have to! Balurga: Can't believe I'm saying this, but Skull's got the right idea. You don't gotta push yourself like that! Huh? You wanted to make chocolates for us that badly… Thanks for caring, but… I'd rather not have chocolate with your blood, sweat, and tears in it.

out of all of the new ones ive read so far this is the sweetest captain-wise,,,like...u absolute fool (endearing). also skull & balurga being so ????? go to BED!!!!!!!!! about it is something i rly like too. excellent. glad to see units & characters i rly like get seasonals i rly like

Lobelia: Let's make this a day to remember. Je t'aime, Captain.

????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Utsusemi: I know that this emotion can bring no joy to a courtesan, but I can't bring myself to throw it away. Therefore… I would leave it in your care. This savage, fiery emotion… You will find it in this box. If you doubt me, then witness it with your own eyes. Captain opens the box as if in a trance, only to let out a short cry when a spring propels something out of it at high speed. Utsusemi: He… Hehe… Hahaha! Well that was a cute reaction indeed! To think that a jack-in-the-box would be so effective…

KBJAFBJKADBJKAD PLEEEEAASSEEEEE BE PRANKING VDAY/WHITE DAY BUDDIES PLLEEASEE PLEEASEE CYGAMES I NEED THIS SO BAD...NOT THE JUMPSCARE...i need to read her fate eps shes growing on me sm just from the seasonals

Meg: Ehehe. Truth be told, Mari, the one I gave you has special ingredients and is different from the rest. I hope you like it. Mari: (Wow, you were so upfront about that, it may as well have been a wedding proposal!)

me when i read mhyk

Meg: By the way, Mari, did you happen to have any chocolate for Captain? Mari: Mm-hm, sure do. Here you go, Captain. A little thank-you for all you do for us. With all the delight of the proud victor of an imagined love triangle, Mari places a miniscule piece of chocolate on Captain's pinky.

LNKADNKLADNKLADNKLADNKLADNKLADNKLDNKLA?!?!?!?!?!?! MARI...CMON....................i actually was surprised she had choco for captain THEN SHE HIT ME WITH THAAAATTT................I KNOW U LOVE MEG BUT...........god im so thankful for the megmari unit. mari is excellent. the seasonal where shes like 'ill make sure the kitchen width is just right so our shoulders brush when we cook' ??????? u r my favorite person. also when mari thought deliford was in love with sandal. lord. u need to be in every single event

Cosmos: Thought one thing Satyr said remains a mystery to me. She mentioned that skydwellers "put their love" into the chocolate. I followed her instructions to whisper my feelings to the chocolate while making a heart shape with my hands. But I remain uncertain as to whether that affected the flavor.

WHAT IS SATYR TEACHING EVERYONEEEEEEEEEEE

#stardust speaking !#i have the year5-year2 left of the girlies so ill return at a l8r time..<3 #gran (with malice): i heard u cant give foxes chocolate #akira (with concern): (can erunes eat chocolate....?)#also grimnirs are always so funny. the only guy who doesnt die from embarrassment when captain goes 'say 'aah' :]'#stan&alizas are a delight too...............

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witchfall · 6 months

Text

down in the dark

confession.

Set post-EW, Izzie and Alphinaud find themselves in incredible trouble. This is what happens when you wait for the perfect moment. You get this, instead: cauterizing wounds and terrors in the dark. Kisses that taste like blood.

(Set in one of Izzie's wolverses, this time as a Viera with another fellow Viera WoL, Noel Kisne. Taken straight from doodle writing with my friend! About six years have passed from the start to ARR to the end of Endwalker, approximately. Izzie is about 2 years older than the twins.)

---

Izzie moves his blood-stained, starlight hair from his forehead and gazes down at him, like she can absorb the very concept of aetheric healing by staring hard enough.

She'd learned the very basics from Raha, but she'd be worthless without a focus, anyway, and Alphinaud's are nowhere to be seen. Not that she could work her mind around those finicky things in a pinch. Not without practice.

She could kill him without meaning to, if she tried.

All because she naively thought...well, he'd always be there anyway, wouldn't he? He or Noel or Raha. She hasn't the patience to be a healer, she always thought. But maybe what she doesn't have is the grit.

"Okay," she says. Her heart is pounding so hard. "Okay. What do we do. We're not supposed to take out stabbed things, I'm pretty sure, but you clearly can't move with it in there." She's rambling aloud. It's the only thing stopping her from lying on the floor and sobbing. "But what if I wrap you tight enough?"

"Might not be enough." He watches the ceiling, though its nothing but murky black beyond their orb of light. "...you're going to have to cauterize it."

Her heart stops beating for a moment. Cauterize. Burn him shut.

She can't. She can't. She can't see him scream in pain because of her. What if it didn't work? What if it was for nothing and her last vision of him was him passing out from pain and then promptly bleeding out? What kind of person would that make her? She might as well just throw herself from the edge of Azys Lla.

"Okay," she says, voice lifeless. "I'll do it."

A bizarre part of her laments that she would be the reason he'd have a scar on his side for the rest of his life.

"Izzie." Her name, just her name, full of questions. His voice reminds her of broken glass and it makes her heart hurt, over and over and over. "You can leave me here and find the way--"

"I'm not godsdamned leaving you, you stupid idiot! I'd rather die!" All of her emotions feel so close to the top.

She doesn't notice his hand make its way to her face, her skin wet and sticky with tears and blood. "Then...it will be alright. Won't it?"

How can he be the healer in this situation, even now? She was supposed to catch him. She promised. She nods into his hand. His fingers are slick with sweat and blood and dirt, leaving streaks on her temple. She knows what he's telling her. This is her choice. She has to make it, and be strong, and move. Always, that is her burden. She wills her hands to stop shaking.

"Tell me what to do," she says.

And so she burns him shut.

It's impossibly risky but they do it in one move. Using a similar aetheric process to how she manages her shots, Izzie heats the shrapnel as she pulls it out.

She is sure she will hear his pained scream in her nightmares. At the very end, he passes out. Her heart stops beating, even as she by rote tears fabric from her fine new skirts and begins wrapping it around his middle, shirt pushed up so she can see.

She ties it off. He still doesn't move. Don't think about it.

She straddles his body, keeping her weight upon her own knees, and she leans over his face, her hands curled into his collar.

"Alphinaud. Please wake up."

A moment passes. Two.

His eyes flutter open, even as his mouth bends into a grimace. Her hands fly to his face again. She leaves more bloodstains.

"Oh, my gods, oh, seven holy hells, Alphinaud, I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry, I--"

"It's alright," he says, impossibly. "I'm here."

And in a flutter of emotions and fears and relief, she leans down and kisses him right on the mouth.

He tastes like blood and sweat, and she pulls away before it can become anything more. But the light in his eyes changes -- brightens from their daze. He searches her face, over and over and over.

Why...did she do that?

"Can you move?" she whispers in the dark.

"I won't be fast," he says. She senses some joke, hiding in the depths of his painful grimace. "Long legs or no."

"That's why I'm here." She tries a bawdy grin, but all she can taste is his blood.

---

They rise together, shaking legs and groans of pain.

Alphinaud's arm around her shoulder tightens so hard she has to bite her cheek to distract from new pain. Her arms circle his chest, doing everything in her power to try and keep some weight off his major injury.

Her aetherotransformer hangs off her hip, casting them in a pool of light.

"Is the silence..."

"Not yet," he says through gritted teeth. "It may not. Until we find the others."

Her head is at his collarbone. She leans into his body, and for a fleeting, stupid moment, she thinks about burying her face in his shoulder and sobbing until she can't breathe anymore. Thinks about absorbing the essence of him like it might also take away his pain.

"I'm sorry," she mutters again. In answer, his hand tightens around her shoulder.

"I will never regret it," he says, unusually short-winded.

Sure. But she might regret the need of it, she thinks to snap. What is she in his life, but a source of pain?

And then, impossibly, the darkness on their skin loosens like sifted dirt. Like rain is falling, and they are cleansed...

She takes in a breath. She hadn't realized how short it had been, until she could finally expand her lungs in full. No corruption left to be found.

"They did it," she whispers. "It's over."

His body sags slightly in relief. Her body screams at her, but she would take all of his weight, should he need it. It was the least she could do. It was the least that she owed.

And so they scan about the room, looking for any possible exit.

They search for long enough that they have to sit in exhaustion, still curled into one another's side, certain that without the other they'd collapse.

They sit facing the one lead they could find in the bizarre, too-smooth room. The closest thing to a closed door: the signs of a failing seal in the wall.

Gods above.

Noel will find me, Izzie wills. I know she will.

They sit in silence for long enough it becomes maddening.

And then Alphinaud decides to break the silence by asking: "Did you mean to...did you...mean to--"

"Kiss you?"

Might as well put it out there. His returning silence is answer enough.

Except its not. He never could leave well enough alone. "Because I simply wish to, ah, follow your lead and I would be fine to...I mean to say that I..."

Some part of her finds it hilarious that this is how they are having this discussion. But it's better than sitting scared and exhausted in the dark -- if only barely.

"You'd forget it if I asked," she says.

"If you asked." His voice is quiet. Unreadable. Diplomatic. "Things...happen in the heat of emotion and battle and I wouldn't hold it against you."

Does she want that? Would it be better for him if he did? Her fingers drift to her lips, even so. How does she feel about it? Why did she do it?

"You're..." Ridiculous, she wants to say. Insane. "I don't kiss people just on a stupid whim." Except she literally just did. So that's a lie. Or. Is it?

Her own reaction, however, is smothered by the way his body almost jolts just a smidgen straighter. His eyes meet hers, shadowed by his matted hair, and the wide openness of her face makes some deep part of her keen.

"Really?" he asks.

She nearly laughs for the foolishness of it. "What is that supposed to mean?"

She's not prepared for him to lean down and kiss her back.

Soft. Blood, still, always there, and her own tears, yes -- but a gentleness that makes her tear up. Fleeting as the connection is. Just their mouths touching, really, is all it is. He knows even less about kissing than she does.

But when he pulls away, she finds herself stunned, anyway. "Why did you--"

"You tend to appreciate evenness in these things."

"...Alphinaud." She turns away and stares at the sliver of light in the wall. She hates how well he knows her. Hates the comfort of it in a moment like this, where she doesn't think she deserves it. She is torn between laughing at him and crying. "I'm...you don't have to...do that."

"I need to tell you something important." No. No. Not in the dark in Azys Lla, no, that is not how this is supposed to go. She stiffens under his arm and in response, he loosens his grip on her. But she returns it ten-fold. No, she thinks. You don't get to leave me like this, either. So he barrels onward. A shield wall running forth. "I understand the pressure this statement will put on you," he says, at least now the shadow of his orator self. "But I would never hold it against you, no matter what, and I will never...I could never..." "Just fucking say it." "It will only ever be you, Izzie. Only you. I am not sure there could ever be anyone else." She closes her eyes, heart in her throat, buoyed by fear and...and... "You don't know that for sure," she says into the dark. "...what?"

Shadows pass behind the door, or is it her imagination?

Is it...could she... An idea forms. A wild, insane, crazy idea. Anything to get out of this discussion, right now.

"Look," she says. "I'd rather die than live in a world where you aren't somehow mine. I mean, with me," she says.

She ignores the way his breath catches in his throat, the way his whole body tenses beneath her, not from pain but from...whatever this is. Ignores it, and presses on.

"So that means I have to get you out of here safely. So we can talk about your future properly."

"...but not also yours?"

"I don't think that far ahead," she lies, brazen. "I have a stupid idea. But I think it will get us out of here."

#wolphinaud #alphinaud leveilleur #ffxiv #twinwolweek #this has been the big rp that been going in the back of my head for months now and anyway #im very happy and pleased #izzie nenelori #kathryn writes #kara i love you!!!!

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solfirafira · 9 months

Text

youtube

A few days ago, I was in the kitchen making my way through some pancakes I made for breakfast when my mother came sauntering down the stairs with her open laptop propped up on her arm, clearly with the intention to show me something she had come across on Youtube. Placing the laptop on the table, she clicked the play button and we started to watch the video linked above. She wanted to see what I thought of it, saying "Hey look at Edison Chen scold this interviewer lady." I took another bite of my pancake.

What has he done this time?

For context, this is not the first time I'd heard of Edison. Born and raised in America, he was scouted and soon became a well-known actor in Hong Kong. Later, he was embroiled in scandal when he became the victim of a major photo leak that involved NSFW photos of many well-known Hong Kong actresses and made international news, shortly followed by yet another photo leak that involved a 16-year-old model. Later, I learned that he had moved back to America to start his own luxury clothing brand. Safe to say that when his name pops up, the first thing I think of is the scandal.

As I watched the video, I was expecting to immediately side with the interviewer. But as the video progressed, I found myself empathizing with Edison, understanding the perspectives of both parties, and found it a fascinating example of a bigger issue that Edison touches on in the video.

As evidenced with the advent of AI being explored in all aspects of the Art industry (traditional & digital art, writing, music, film, etc.), the discourse surrounding the topic of whether society as a whole respects Art and the making of Art when it can be easily automated with the click of a button has resurfaced and is calling a lot of what people believe about Art into question.

To be clear, by Art what I mean is the expression of the self. The part that has something they want to say, so they pick their medium of choice and use that as a channel for their thoughts and feelings. That's the Making of the Art, and then there's the Marketing and Distribution of the Art if they so choose to want to share it with others, and then there's the Consumption of the Art which is ultimately out of the creator's control but has the potential to become a spark of inspiration for other creators to start their own cycle of Art. This is the basic process of how Art travels from the brain of the creator to the brain of the public. It's clear that in the context of the video, the product they're trying to promote is part of the Making process, while the interview is a part of the Marketing process. Simple, right?

But hold on a second, why is Edison so heated? He doesn't even look like he wants to be there. The clash, I believe, lies at the crossroads of the Making of the Art and the Consumption of Art. Here we have an artist who has put a lot of heart, time, and effort in creating this Art, who now wants to Market their Art to their target audience, only to be faced with an interviewer who can be considered a passive consumer at best, and also unfortunately caught not having done her due diligence.

As an artist, the Making of the Art is almost a sacred process. Everyone has their own way of going about it, and a lot of the time it's a lot of blood, sweat and tears poured into this piece of work. There's a piece of our Selves that is included in the work. On the other hand, Consumption of Art can be a rather passive process from the perspective of the "normie" because obviously we're not talking about the people who vibe with the art, the active consumers who may take it as a direct representation of their identity. We're talking about someone who probably was told a few days prior that she would be interviewing this guest, probably had decent past experience interviewing guests in general, but was unexpectedly taken out of her element when asked to go off-script.

This disconnect is a fascinating phenomenon to witness when both parties are simultanously having separate realizations at once. That when the Creator moves out of the Making of the Art stage, they are effectively relinquishing control of how it is consumed, that regardless of the blood, sweat and tears poured into a piece of work, there will always be a gap between the Creator and the Consumer and that's okay. That for the Interviewer, she is immediately faced with the responsibility of the position she's put herself in, the expectations that guests expect from her professionally, faced with someone who wants to speak and connect with her as a person, not as the interviewer who has cards to follow and a strict schedule to adhere to.

At the end of the day, I don't hold it against Edison for the things he said in this video. I do think he could have exercised some self-control and held back on a portion of it as it seemed he kept going once the main point was made, but otherwise it wasn't uncalled for as he did still stay in his seat when there was always the option to walk out. As for the Interviewer, I hope she's learned her lesson in making sure she does her due diligence prior to interviewing guests. Their time is precious, her time is precious, the entire staff and camera crew's time is precious, and it was all essentially wasted on what could have been a way to connect as humans and make art.

When the video ended and my mother and I had nothing left to comment on, she headed back upstairs with the laptop, presumably to continue watching one of her many chinese dramas that she has on rotation. I, on the other hand, realized I had made one too many pancakes and left the remainder on the table for my father to find when he wakes up as I headed back to my room.

#fira docs #edison chen #hong kong #mini essay #Youtube

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ftm2bbw · 1 year

Note

It's Friday night after work and we're at your place because it's your turn to host poker night. We're about four rounds in and you've had me by the balls for three of them. Cold drinks are flowing, we're shooting the shit, and the chips are riding. It's a real guys night. Eventually we start comparing notches in our bed posts because our lips are getting looser. You start bragging about how you've been getting more girls than me with your strap-on and binder than I have with my flesh and blood penis. I smirk and joke that you're just better at being a man than I am.

I deal the cards and you fan your hand. You're most of the way to a Full House and you're confident you'll clean me out this round. There's suddenly a tightness across your torso. You put it out of mind: it must just be some holiday weight. With confidence you take another swig of your pint. It's your usual brew but something just tastes off with it. You elect to ignore it and focus on the table. I flip one of the cards. Queen of hearts. This is exactly what you've been waiting for. You display your hand and call out to "read'em and weep" but something's not right. Your voice just now was higher than usual. It hasn't sounded like that in years. The tightness seems worse now too and you can feel your belly poking out from your checkered button up.

You're fanning yourself off. You feel warm. Too warm. Uncomfortably warm. Sweat is pooling under your binder. You ask if I feel warm too but I look cool as a cucumber, and with a knowing glance as well. I ask you if it's starting to kick in yet. You start to feel your chest swelling, heaving with every breath. I fess up to the game going on. While I was getting our drinks ready, I spiked your glass with bovine growth hormones — the kind that get the cows nice and full before production starts. I was curious: you always said you were big before you started transitioning, but I wanted to see just how big you could get.

You try to protest but you stumble back into your chair. Waves of heat radiate off of your chest as you surge forth in spurts. The buttons on your shirt hold on for dear life. A plateau of tit starts to spill out from the top of your binder, threatening to make a rather comfy chin rest. The stitching begins to strain, growing tighter, and tighter, and tighter, as you feel the pressure in your breasts grow fuller and firmer. As it builds, a pair of wet patches form through your fabric. Slowly, surely, drops soak into your clothes, which give way to a steady trickle. The smell of milk wafts into the air.

Finally, there is a release: the buttons on your shirt burst forth in a shower of tiny plastic, revealing the full extant of your growth. Your binder is trying desperately to hold it all together but there's just too much tit. They look like ripe pumpkins in a pneumatic press, shot glass nipples poking through the now sheer fabric like stems. A tearing noise ensues as it gives up the ghost, and your colossal tits crash onto the kitchen table. Supernaturally full, they slosh and jiggle as they keep rising, threatening to overtake your chin. Ordinarily, you'd be horrified, but something about this feels right, like a fantasy you've long denied. Maybe it's just the super-charged bovine estrogen talking, but this feels so fucking good. You want more. You need to be expressed. The trickle isn't enough, you need someone to drink you, to manhandle these fat fucking tits and squeeze'em until they keep swelling. This night's only just getting started.

~🍨

Mmff. I would be such a mess of arousal and emotion. Pissed that you'd drugged me to such an absurd effect, embarrassed by just how huge and impossibly full my tits were growing, and absolutely, mind-meltingly aroused by the entire experience despite myself.

I'd pant and groan and squirm in both horror and lust as my tits continued to swell, ruining both my shirt and my binder until they were fully on display. Part of me would hate it - I'm supposed to be a man after all, and men aren't supposed to have massive, leaky udders. But my embarrassment at that fact would just make it even hotter, knowing full well that I'd fantasized about similar scenarios all too often in private. Knowing full well I'd never be able to hide such a huge, sensitive rack ever again.

I wouldn't be able to help but moan and rub my thighs together as my tits slosh and drip and leak, desperate to have them properly handled and taken care of. And in the back of my brain, I wouldn't be able to help but want more.

I wouldn't be able to help but look at you and breathlessly groan out two simple but lifechanging words..."Milk me."

#fuck I really do need someone to manhandle these fat fucking tits...#I can only imagine what other effects those hormones would have too...#fuck this was hot #🍨 anon #ask.txt

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beneathashadytree · 3 years

Text

MASTERPIECE - ARMIN ARLERT X READER

Warnings : this is set after the timeskip of course, not specified if this is canonverse or modern AU, handjob, almost-blowjob, cum swallowing, sub!Armin, dom!reader, implied overstimulation, implied edging and orgasm denial, Armin is kinda loud, one mention of blood, implied dacryphilia, Armin has a praise kink, very very light bondage, begging, implied corruption kink, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : smut, but they're in love lmao

Word count : 0.9K words

Synopsis : Nothing was ever more pleasing than the sight of a needy Armin Arlert being repeatedly brought to the edge.

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!

Masterlist

"F-fuck."

A stuttered curse, breathed into the heat of the room, blond head thrown back in tandem with the word and looking statuesque as he did---he looked like a painting of perfection, one that I'd painted in my own colors. Crystalline eyes welled with tears, almost heartwrenchingly beautiful as the smell of copper permeated the air, lips stained with rustic red as pearly white teeth snagged on a plump lower lip.

He was nothing short of ethereal; breathtaking in every angle of his chin, every involuntary jerk of his hips. Armin Arlert was reduced to putty in my hands, and yet he somehow resembled an angel even Michelangelo would revere and envy.

Panting and huffing, he writhed, weeping cock pulsing in my hand, almost adorably eager as his bound hands struggled against the fabric of the silken tie. Seeing him so desperate and begging for more without actually saying the words pulled a smirk onto my face, one that only grew wider as he leaked more precum into my fist as I pumped his cock, his veins pulsating against my palm.

"Look at you, such a pretty boy," I murmured, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to his tip, reveling in the way he whined at the contact of my lips to his sensitive head, "Really, you're the prettiest thing I've ever seen, baby."

Armin groaned, "P-please. Can't hold back much longer. 'S been an hour," almost as though his muscles were remembering the sixty long minutes of torturous edging I'd put him through, his thighs trembled as his hands tried---and failed---to seek purchase in my hair; to bring me down to his aching cock.

But really, how was I to blame, when his face when nearing the edge was so captivating that it was almost otherworldly? When his sweet voice sang of how good I was making him feel, how close he was to cumming, how much he wanted me to use him? He was the epitome of eroticism in its most beautiful form, and I couldn't resist toying with him like that when he was right in the palm of my hand---quite literally too.

Pale skin covered in a sheen of sweat and a sensual red blush, Armin's chest heaved with every moan that escaped his swollen lips. My hand tightening as I picked up the pace, urging the most melodious sounds out of him, I couldn't help myself and found my lips trailing delicate kisses from his base to his hipbone and back again, tracing an invisible line only I could see. Pride filled me at the knowledge that only I could bring him to a state of ruin like this; that he was all mine to devour completely and leave a wanton mess every single time.

"I think you deserve to cum," I whispered, knowing that I was lightly tickling him as he shivered, abdominal muscles taut as I peppered more kisses, "You're rather responsive today, huh?"

With a fervent nod, his eyes glazed over, no longer thinking nor speaking coherently. His tongue just lolled out of his mouth, panting as he drooled with no self-awareness or restraint. Lost in the haze of pleasure as I fisted his angry red cock even faster, he could only whimper my name half-heartedly, hands close to ripping their ties from behind his back. I only barely had time to wrap my lips around his tip before he was jerking up into my mouth, the warmth no doubt sending him hurtling over the edge with a garbled whine and uncontrollable sobs as I swallowed the thick ropes of cum that seemed endless, hips completely raised as he arched his back off the bed in a sight that could only be described as pornographic.

Such an innocent boy, and yet such a filthy sight he was when he was in my bind. Pulling back as I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, I watched the way he came down from his dizzying high like a predator would watch its prey. And really, even as he laid on his side, hands still tied and wrists red from the effort of tugging against their hold, eyes fluttering shut as he curled into the mattress, soft hair fanning out underneath his head, I still felt the overwhelming hunger rise at the sight of him.

But I had to hold back, knowing that my beautiful boy was probably beyond spent, and I only ever wanted to make him feel good---so good, in fact, that he'd collapse into an exhausted heap like that every single time I was done with him, cheeks tearstained and glowing rosy red with sex or the like.

Untying my lover's raw wrists and kissing them gently as his breathing evened out, I rubbed the skin, making sure that not a single mark of pain would ever last on his perfect skin.

"There we go," I mumbled finally, kissing his temple as he always liked me to do; even in his almost-unconscious state his lips curled up into a tired half-smile, and it took all the strength in me to stop at pulling up the bedsheets to his chest and doing nothing more lewd, "Sleep well, handsome."

Armin Arlert was my perfectly wrecked masterpiece, after all, and art could only ever be cherished and treasured.

Taglist: @mrsgiovanna @thispersoniscrazy @blondeboyfriend

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nkogneatho · 3 years

Text

"Met a lot of people, but nobody felt like you"- Issei x gn!reader.

►Taglist is open for angst week

Genre: Angst. WC: 715

Warnings: Blood, mentions of sucidal urge, mentions of cheating.

"How did you not feel a bit of shame Issei?", your voice was clearly ringing through the whole room then your own head.

"Look. I am sorry".

"I don't give a fuck about your 'SORRY' Issei. Like that can fix this.", there's no way you were going to let him get away this time with just a mere apology that he didn't even mean.

"It happened in the heat of the moment y/n. I don't know what was I thinking, okay.", he defended himself but that wasn't enough reason for what he did.

How can he sleep with someone just for the excuse that you were on a trip and he was drunk? Your heart broke when you saw him sleeping naked with them, clothes all on the bedroom floor.

"Look. This is fixable. We can fix this, right? like we always do?", his trembling hands approached yours but you dodged his touch. You didn't even want to let him touch you now. You felt disgusted.

"Not this time Issei. You see I'm not here to 'FIX' all the shit you do. I am fucking tired of it. All you ever wanted was sex. And I was a fool to believe that you wanted it to be me. But you will literally screw the next person you see who piques your interest, won't you? All you were here was for my body", the fact that you didn't even stutter was clear that you wanted to say it from a long time.

"Isn't that the only good thing in you?", he definetly meant it yet your heart refused to believe what he just said.

"Is that so? Then seems like there's no need of me since you already found your new cum dumpster", you slammed the door on you way out, glaring at him in disgrace.

The room went silent. It was then when he fell on the ground, trying to get a hold of himself, shivering fingers running through his hairs, wiping the sweat.

"No no no no no", he kept chanting.

"FUCK FUCK. FUCKING HELL", his hands swayed the wine glasses which ended up shattering in pieces just like his heart, just like yours.

"I am so so so sorry love", tears started running down his cheeks. "I don't want you to know.", soon he coughed a lot of blood on the floor. He didn't even have the energy left to go to the sink or the washroom.

Head laid on the main door which you slammed, eyes shut. "Funny, isn't it? How you said I could never make you hate me-*cough cough*. Well I just did love."

He seperated the shattered pieces on the picture of two. "I am so sorry. I'd rather let you hate me than let you love a dying person.", fingers softly touching your picture which he wished was your face in reality.

"I knew you would never believe if I told you myself so I had to pull this fake act with my friend. Great actor, aren't I?", he chuckled.

"All my life I have been pathetic. Tried to hide my pain away in false smiles. But......you made me better. I could smile genuinely when you were by my side-*cough cough cough*", his condition was clearly worsening by seconds and he knew that. But he'd rather lay their, holding what's the last left of you with him than spend time in that crappy hospital room again for the next 3 months with getting different surgeries done to him just for him to live on meds for 2 weeks.

"You know-*cough*, you are my favourite person. I really wish it didn't have to end this way. I planned so many things for us, even if I knew they were never gonna come true. Guess I just wanted to imagine our future even if there was none", he was losing conciousness, heart rate slowly falling.

"I wish you were here baby. I wish my body could fight this. I love you so much", more tears started rolling down when closed his eyes in pain.

"I met a lot of people.....", he mumbled as he was losing conciousness,"....but no-nobody felt like....you....y/n", his eyes finally closed before he whispered. "I love you", heart still didn't stop beating when he peacefully stayed unconcious.

Taglist: @httpsukuna @airheadpillar

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blackindiaink · 3 years

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Scylla changing Raelles clothes and washing the blood off her after 2x7. Or like idn Abigail seeing how soft she is or something like that. I don't know

When they returned to the house, I carried Raelle in myself. Abigail followed behind, huffing the whole time. Nothing mattered except Raelle so she was easy to ignore. At least her friend was helpful, getting the door open and turning on the lights.

I settled Raelle on the bed and then went to find a washcloth. I soaked it in warm water and returned to the bedroom to find Abigail hovering over Raelle.

"I'll take care of her," I said.

"If you do anythi-" Abigail started.

"I would never hurt Raelle," I protested.

I relaxed my clenched hand and looked straight into Abigails eyes.

"I love her," I said.

Abigail's cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips.

"I'll be right out there," she said.

Once she was gone, I turned back to Raelle. It was understandable that she would be protective of her friend. I'd given them no reason to trust me and there was no telling what the Army had told them all about me. Probably mostly the truth but without context.

I pushed all that away from my consciousness and pushed Raelle's hair away from her face. She was so beautiful. It hurt to look at her and know all the things she'd been through, all the things I'd put her through. I'd lied earlier. I had hurt Raelle and I'd alienated the one person I had in the world that mattered in the process.

I started to wipe the blood away from her face. It was sticky and dried, mixed with the sweat that had beaded on her skin as she was being tortured. Tears welled in my eyes before I closed them and sucked in a deep breath.

That wasn't what was needed. She was alive and I was here touching her, feeling the softness of her skin again. I tried not to focus on that. She made it clear how she felt the last time we saw one another. I just wanted to care for her and make it more comfortable for when she woke up.

I figured it was better if I changed her clothes rather than Abigail. At least I'd seen her naked and that thought sent my mind right back to those moments. I'd committed them to memory, reliving them before I slept at night. The way she looked at me back then, the adoration. It was the only time I'd ever felt seen and loved.

No one else had bothered to look past the ideals and the anger. Raelle saw something else, she saw my capacity for love. I'd never known that I was a love fighter until I'd met her. It didn't matter if she forgave me, I'd make damn sure she was safe and okay even if it meant giving up my life like Willa had.

I carefully took off her shirt and then her jeans, deciding to leave her underwear and bra since they weren't badly stained. I managed to get the sweats on her with little issue. I was afraid she'd wake up the whole time but whatever they'd done to her had taken a toll.

When I'd finished dressing her, I leaned down and kissed her forehead, unable to stop myself. I could still her shampoo and my throat caught, all that love hitting my heart. This girl was it for me. There was no one else. I could only pray to the goddess that she would give me another chance someday.

#raylla #raelle collar #scylla ramshorn #raelle x scylla #scylla x raelle #motherland: fort salem #motherland fort salem #raylla fanfic #mfs fanfic #mfs 2x07 #missing scenes #raylla shorts

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illyaana · 3 years

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Hey... Could you maybe... Could you make a oneshot consisting of Bakugou's older sibling reader (I'd prefer it to be gender neutral with a more masculine style, however you prefer) x Midnight? 🥺🥺 I love her so much and Horikoshi did her dirty. You can do whatever oneshot that you want/comes to mind, I just want something fluffy. Thank you UwU

Udk how much I squealed getting this as my first ask!

(also whoever you are you made my day/week/month (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ)

I agree, Horikoshi did her dirty. She had some moments but that was IT. I tried my best, hope you like it!!

(it's more of a you being a hero and being in a relationship with Nemuri rather than a one-shot surrounding your relationship, but there's a bunch of fluffy stuff at the end, so gehe-)

Tags: Midnight x Bakugo's Older Sibling! Reader, Binaural, Fluff, Minor Cursing, Mentions of Blood

Your Quirk: Liquid Maker - You conjure a liquid in your hands (smtg like sweat) when you want to and it can become anything. Name it, you got it hun <3

Synopsis: You are a hero (obviously gehe-) and you were catching some villains. Suddenly a huge explosion came from the middle of Musutafu and you headed straight to the crime scene.

Word Count: 2163

SFW Masterlist ◍ Navigation ◍ Requesting Guidelines ◍ Ask here!

You woke up to the sweet smell of smoke coming from the living room. Groaning, you got off your comfortable bed and raced to the living room to stop Bakugo from his daily antics.

"You really got to stop doing this in the morning, Katsuki," you told the younger male, "It's literally," you looked at the clock, "8 am in the morning and my half-asleep self could've gotten hurt stopping you from breaking all hell loose."

Katsuki scoffed while looking at you. "Why aren't you at work yet? As you said, it's already 8 am."

"Later shift today! I only start at around 10 am."

"Wow, aren't you lucky?" Katsuki said as he walked towards the stove, "I'm making pancakes, but I won't make even one for you until you go bathe. You look disgusting."

"Okay, okay." You say, raising your hands and rushing to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

After bathing, you head back into your room and began to wear your skin-tight hero suit.

You groaned slightly as you slowly pulled the form-fitting clothing up your body.

"I swear to God this isn't getting easier."

"You are literally a fatass, so I'm not surprised," you heard Katsuki scream from the kitchen, "I pity Midnight. The fact she needs to be around a literal piece of garbage who doesn't even look good."

"At least I have someone, unlike your childish ass."

"I am a child," he retorted.

You sigh as you open your room door and head back to the kitchen.

"One day, you're going to wish you were nicer to the people around you."

"Maybe," Katsuki said while passing you a plate with a stack of three pancakes, "...but I am pretty sure you aren't going to be one of them, judging by how much you baby me."

"But you are a child! Didn't you say so a few minutes ago?" you say as you pinch his cheeks, earning a growl from him, "Woah, calm down dog."

"Shut up and eat, fatass."

You chuckle at his words and proceed with the order given by your younger brother.

You loved getting later shifts on Fridays. These were the quieter days in the Bakugo household. Mom usually took her extra days off on Fridays like today, extending her weekend. Dad left for work earlier on Fridays but he'd always buy some spicy thing for Katsuki and you to have in the morning. Something to wish us a good day, I presume. And to top it all off, you and Katsuki would have these "sibling" moments, which mostly consisted of you annoying him to the point he'd lash out at you.

"You're a really good cook, Katsuki. These pancakes keep getting better!" you compliment the 10-year old.

And there it was: you entertainment of the day - Katsuki trying to say thank you but failing miserably thanks to his own pride as a "man".

"T-than- that's obvious, isn't it?" he ends, a blush present on his face, "I make pancakes every single time you have a later shift because you like it. If I'm getting better, that means you've been getting more later shifts. That means you've been slacking off, you stupid Pro Hero!"

"...how did you even get to that idea?"

After calming down a raging Katsuki, you put on your gear and head to the entrance of the house.

"Have a good day at school, Katsuki. Don't do anything you'd regret," you playfully warn him before leaving the house.

The streets of Musutafu were usually peaceful. Ever since All Might became the Symbol of Peace, the crime rates have dropped extensively. Yet, there are always one or two little naughty kids that wanted to play with their quirks - or in simpler terms, people who act like kids and try to do minor crimes using their quirks.

Using the liquid formed in your hands, you aimed at the legs of the two running males in black and wrap their legs together. Within a second, the liquid instantly formed into a rope and bounded their legs together, forcing them to fall face down.

"You both gave me a good morning run, thanks for that!" You say as you place two handcuffs around their wrists, "But you should seriously think about another hobby besides stealing."

From afar, you heard a loud boom coming from the middle of Musutafu.

In an instant, you formed another bunch of rope and tied the two males around their waist and pushed them to the corner of a building.

"Run away and you'll get more than just jail time," you say as you rush off to the scene.

The minute you reached the scene, your eyes widened in fear.

Endeavor was the reason behind the whole catastrophe here?

From behind, you felt a pair of soft hands touch your shoulder.

"I know what it looks like, but trust me it isn't," Nemuri started, "A villain that has a mind control quirk is controlling Endeavor from a distance. I've been trying to locate them, but no luck."

You smiled, looking at your girlfriend.

"You managed to get all of that in a few seconds?" you ask, amazed, "I got a good one, didn't I?"

You felt Midnight pinch you from behind.

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, now isn't the time to flirt with me," the female hero said.

You nod, washing away the playful smile.

"You get all the civilians out of here and contact the heroes through the network. I'll try to get him down and knock him out," you say. Nemuri nodded and began to gather the civilians away from the scene.

"Now," you turn to face the 2nd best hero, "How does one take down someone much, much more stronger than you?"

You slowly gathered your liquid in your palm, allowing the fluid to grow in volume.

"You defeating Endeavor would be a sight to behold, not going to lie here," the villain said through Endeavor, "But I am willing to test out that theory."

You lunged at the fire user while creating a fire-resistant rope to tie him down in your hand. In the other, you managed to conjure a Haladie sword - a sword you've trained with ever since your days in UA.

Using the sword, you managed to propel yourself above Endeavor and cut his back. Using the momentum you built, you used both your feet to hit the back of Endeavor's knees, forcing him to kneel.

You immediately stabbed his dominant hand, preventing him from reacting quickly.

With a snap, the Haladie sword transformed back into its liquid state and wrapped around his left hand.

"I was never planning on defeating Endeavor but merely securing him, dear villain of mine," you say as you transformed the liquid around his left hand into a quick-cancelling glove, "It’s one point for Y/N, right now. No point for little Mindy over here."

You began to build up more liquid in your hands to hopefully form another Haladie sword or at least a blade.

The controlled Endeavor began to get up slowly and turn to face you.

"I didn't peg you to be a dumb one, Y/N."

You felt a blade pierce through your stomach.

A civilian sobbed as they pressed the blade deeper into your body, your blood dripping onto their office coat.

"I can't believe you let your guard down so easily. It was your fault to assume I could only control one person at a time, little hero," the controlled civilian said midst crying.

"And that will be your downfall," Endeavor said as small flames began to grow from the palm of his right hand.

The knife that once was in your body was violently ripped out of your body by the controlled civilian and then used to kill themself by piercing their heart.

Tears fell as you saw the now lifeless male bleed to death right beside you.

"Oh don't worry," Endeavor said, "I'll make sure you also go with him, too. That small wound won't kill you, I know that."

You saw Midnight running towards you along with Eraserhead and All Might.

"You know, I always pictured you crying over a dead Nemuri Kayama whilst bleeding from your stomach, have you?"

Your eyes widened at the statement.

There was no way you were going to let that villain kill her.

"Eraser," you screamed, "Erase his quirk and get Midnight out of here."

'Please don't fail on my now, buddy,' you told to your body as you ran towards Endeavor, 'You still have to live for the people you love.'

You quickly formed another Haladie sword and vaulted from the floor towards Endeavor.

You managed to grab the hand aimed at Midnight and pushed it towards you. Using the remainder fluid you had, you formed another quirk-cancelling glove on Endeavor's right hand.

You could hear a sigh of relief from both Nemuri and Shouta, making you smile.

From afar, you heard All Might saying that he caught the villain that was controlling both the civilian and Endeavor. You were shocked when you heard the number one hero's laugh of victory.

You were amazed at the skill the male had.

A villain that took two people to search for was found by him in a few minutes.

Soon, the wound formed by the dead civilian began to take effect as your vision became hazy.

Before you could lose consciousness, you felt Nemuri's hands wrap around you, catching you before you fell.

When you woke up, you heard the sound of hospital monitors beeping. You felt a small hand gripping around your left hand.

"Why did you let them stab you, idiot," you heard your younger brother say, "Don't go teaching me a lesson with your death - it won't work."

You chuckled, looking at the younger blonde. "If this doesn't work on you, I don't know what will."

Katsuki began to sob on your blanket while gripping on the four fingers his small fingers could grip.

"It's okay, Kacchan," you saw a green-haired boy patting his back, "He is here and he is alive. That is all that matters, okay?"

You smiled, looking at the greenette.

"What's your name?" you ask him.

"I'm Izuku Midoriya! I'm friends with Kacchan," he says with a beaming smile.

"Kacchan, huh?" you tease, "You are really close friends with Kacchan, aren't you?"

Before Izuku could reply, you felt Katsuki pinch your leg.

"I don't even know why I care for you, you fatass."

"Oh, how you wound me," you feign sadness as the ten-year-olds left your room.

You smile at the sight of the greenette consoling your brother as they walk out of the room.

You look up to the ceiling, sighing.

"You are a bit too young to be sighing so loudly, Y/N," Nemuri said as she slowly opened the door, "I saw what you did there. Don't tease Katsuki so often, he is quite mature for his age, you know?"

You smile, looking at Nemuri with her hands on her waist.

"He's growing too fast. I need small moments like this to remember how innocent he is before he becomes the raging little twit I know he'll become."

"Woah, Woah, Woah," she says, laughing, " 'Raging little twit'? You really are a bad brother."

You begin laughing, "I have to be the playful one or else the Bakugo's would be a family of three brooding people and one peaceful man."

"True."

Your eyes widen.

"You aren't supposed to agree, you know?"

"My mother taught me not to lie," she says, smiling.

"Well, white lies aren't bad."

She sits beside you and holds your hand. Tears slowly escape her eyes as she looks at you.

"You are okay, right?" She says, sniffling.

You slowly wipe off her tears and put the palm of your hand on her cheek.

"I'm fine, Nemuri."

You slowly move towards her and place a kiss on her forehead.

You pat the empty side of your bed, "Want to join me?"

She slowly nods as she walks to the empty side of the bed and gets in. Her legs immediately wrap around your left leg as she places her head against your chest. Her left hand extends around your waist and hugs you.

"What are you, a koala?" you joke.

"What can I say? You are a comfy tree."

"Well, I am glad to be of service."

Soon, Nemuri goes to sleep. Soft snores can be heard from her as she rubs her head against your chest.

'The koala became a cat,' you thought to yourself.

Your right-hand goes to the top of her head, ruffling her hair.

"I love you so much, Nemuri Kayama. I always will. If I had to, I would gladly lay my life down so that you'd be safe. I know you're asleep and probably can't hear this, but you are the most important thing in my life - don't forget that," you tell her sleeping figure as you fall asleep.

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

Their Doll 7

Helping Hand

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: Bucky helps y/n in more ways than one

Warnings: talk about sex kinda

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Training with the soldier wasn't all bad, really. I mean sure, being knocked on my ass every five minutes when we sparred was hell, but there were other aspects too. HYDRA basically made the soldier train me into being their own personal assassin.

Today, it was knife-throwing. One of the few skill I already had - after all, being left in boredom for a whole year led me to experiment and find something new. I was self taught, not very good, but I knew the basics.

I walked up to the target carefully, eyes wide at I watch the soldier throw a knife that pierced through the handle of a blade that was already embedded in the bullseye. I shook off the shock, focusing on my own target as I walked up to it. Lifting a knife out of the belt I wore, I angled it at the target - keeping my wrist slightly loose - and threw. Fuck. Landed in the third ring out from the bullseye.

Again. I threw, wrist loose, and a similar outcome. As I lined up for a third throw, I felt a hand on my right shoulder, stopping me. I looked up, eyes piercing into the soldier's as his averted from me, to the blade in my hand, to the target.

My breathing became heavy, laboured, as he made his way around me, the soldier positioning himself behind me. His hands ran down my arms, resting either side of my wait - one radiating heat, the other cold and making my flinch slightly when it came into contact with the exposed skin from where my shirt had ridden up slightly. He used this grip to correct my stance, remaining behind me and grabbing my wrists to move them into the right position. His hot breath on the back of my neck was making me unfocused, intoxicated.

"Loosen your wrist." He said lowly, "more. It's all about the flick of your wrist." He explained, waiting for me to be ready. "Good. Now, release on your exhale." He breathed.

I took a deep breath in, letting the small blade loose on my exhale, eyes trained to the flash of silver as it flew through the air. Just to the left of the bullseye.

"Good. Try again." So I did, landing a fraction closer to the black dot in the centre of the target. "Good girl." The soldier remarked, the praise sending an odd tingle through me. I could practically hear his smile as he spoke, but before I could respond, his warmth from my body was gone - the soldier back at his own target one again.

...

I stood in the shower room, back bare and bloody still after I had managed to stagger from the whipping room. I stood with my back to the mirror as I looked over my shoulder, wincing every time the small towel touched any of the wounds.

Today's punishment had been unusually brutal, with the whip cracking down on my back in the same two places for every lashing. As a result, two long gashes spanned widthways diagonally across my upper and lower back, oozing crimson tauntingly as tear stained my already reddened cheeks.

I huffed out a frustrated sigh, turning back around to wash the blood from my once-white towel. Steam clouded the edges of the mirror and I could hear a steady stream of water coming from behind one of the curtains, meaning the the Soldier was probably washing after our training session.

In my efforts to get my towel as close to it's original colour, I was completely oblivious when the stream of water cut out and the stained-white curtain ripped back - the rings making a horrible noise against the metal rail. My eyes slowly drifted up to my own reflection staring back at myself, a grimace forming on my face at the sight.

Harsh, purple and green bruises decorated my right jaw, a small cut split across my left cheekbone and a now-drying cluster of blood was dripping down my forehead and tangling with my sweat-crusted hair. I tentatively reached up with one hand, running my fingers so lightly over the bruise on my cheek you'd barely know I'd touched it if I hadn't been for the whimper that escaped my lips.

A movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention, my eyes drifting to the side to see the soldier looking intently at my back in the mirror. I swallowed deeply, dropping the water-clad towel into the sink without looking away from the soldier. I suddenly felt hit, with his eyes burning into me, and tried to make a move to leave. But his hands on my waist stopped me, kept me in place.

"This is how they're punishing you?" The soldiers husked deeply beside my ear, and I nodded meekly. What he did next I didn't expect in a thousand lifetimes, but the soldier reached around me and pulled open the cupboard beside my head before pulling out a role of bandages.

We stood in silence as he dressed my wounds, my eyes never leaving the mirror as I gazed at his focus expression. He looked different to how he did when he fought, calmer, tranquil even. He didn't look like a killing machine, like a lackey of HYDRA, no. He looked more like a vulnerable boy who had been forced into something he didn't want, but with no choice other than to do as he'd been told. Neither of us said a word every time I flinched or let out little yelps and winces of pain, his eyes only drifted to mine in the steamed mirror and only left when I'd give him a small nod, a signal to continue.

When he'd finished he stepped away, using a soft grip on my hips to turn me around. He gave me a small smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. I returned it, but gasped sharply as he lifted my up and placed me atop the counter beside the sink. He picked up the sodden towel and run it out until it only remained damp and carefully lifted it to my forehead, cautiously and gently rubbing the wound there clean, until only a small cut on my hair line remained.

As his attention shifted to the cut on my cheekbone, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander down his toned torso, over his abs and to his v-line which disappeared beneath the towel he had wrapped around his waist. When my eyes trailed up again, the couldn't help but observe the mess of scars at the base of his metal arm - where it was connected to his shoulder.

"I know it isn't pretty, but at least I have an arm." The soldier remarked, dropping the little towel in his hand back into the sink and looking into my eyes. I quickly averted my gaze from his body, cheeks flushed with the embarrassment of getting caught. He smirked slightly, using one of his fingers to tip my chin upwards so I had no choice but to look in his eyes.

It wasn't a rough, power-asserting position like it was intended to be when the general did it. No, it was soft, endearing and I couldn't get enough of him. The soldier used his metal hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, a shiver finding my when the cold metal came into contact with my skin.

"Thank you." I murmured, eyes flirting between his own and his lips. The soldier's were seemingly doing the same. My overwhelming urge to kiss him was quelled when his lips came into contact with mine, dominating but not hard. His lips were plump, yet chapped - I mean how could you expect any less, it's not like the Winter Soldier was going to think about putting some lip balm on. I sat there, dumbfounded, unmoving. My eyes clenched shut at my hands brushed lightly up his arms before settling on his shoulders.

He pulled away all to soon. His smile seemed more genuine, touching his eyes slightly as his lips curled upwards. I was sure I was grinning like an idiot, but I couldn't find it in myself to care as my eyes because mesmerised with his own, now blown wider with lust so only a small ring of cerulean blue rimmed his pupils. That was not the only evidence of his arousal though, as I could feel the other give away poking at my thigh. The towel around his waist did nothing to hide it, and my eyes widened slightly when I registered how big it must be.

Sensing this, the soldier's smirk grew, and he leant in slowly to capture my lips in one last, gentle kiss, before he was retreating from the room. The sound of the metal door swinging shut made me snap out of my hazy daydream trance and come back to reality, the pain throbbing from my back now in full focus as I hopped down from the counter with a groan.

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hellotvshowtrash · 3 years

Text

Grief (W.M)

Summary: Wanda unsuccessfully tries to move on from Vision.

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: loss, death, depictions of Vision’s dead body (nothing we haven’t seen before) grieving, depression, guilt, Wanda blaming herself for Vision’s death. Also wandavision spoilers

A/N: hello! This is my fic for @sventeen-daybreak’s writing challenge as well as the May MCU prompt challenge! Leave a comment/reblog/like if you enjoyed!

Wanda laughs, but it doesn't sound like her. Her ears don't recognize the sound which is more like static than giggles. The man sitting across from her is unfamiliar, some brown eyed, brown haired, bland man, smiling at her like she is sunshine, but she does not want to be sunshine, not to him, at least. She doesn't even remember his name at this point.

His hand is laying on the table, expecting to meet hers halfway, and she looks at it through her periphery. Internally, she battles herself, battles the part of her that laughs at his jokes and wants to hold his hand. She lays her hand gently on top of his, layering his with hers like a blanket that hasn't been used in years. The feeling of her skin on his is alien and her subconscious yells that it's not right, none of this is right, none-

"Wanna get out of here?" The man across from her asks, his eyes gentle and kind, and she knows he means well. Her thoughts aside, this date has been going rather well and if it weren't for her, maybe they could really be something, but this man is not who she wants nor who her heart needs. This man doesn't know the intricacies of Wanda, her heart, her magic. She smiles politely and nods, letting him stand and lead her out of the crowded restaurant. The night is warm and loud, the streets of New York City buzz with chatter and the smell of exhaust.

Still hand in hand, the conversation between them doesn't cease or even pause. Wanda will give credit where credit is due, this man is easy to be with. His voice is American, no accent to be found. No prose while speaking, no poetic bliss. She finds his voice to be velvety and smooth to the ears, but sandpaper to the heart. She realizes he doesn't know where he is going as he walks with her back to her apartment, he's shy enough to not admit that he knows exactly who she is, that she can defend herself perfectly well, but he's chivalrous, he’s down to earth, he’s not blowing his shot.

She smiles as he talks about his family, his sister and her children who are his favourite little kids in the world and how being an uncle is amazing and how someday I'd really like to have a family of my own, y'know? He doesn't know it but he strikes just about every nerve possible in those few sentences and her chest tightens. Pietro, mom, dad, Vis- all in one horrible fell swoop. She takes a deep breath, her smile unbreaking. Chatter continues, mostly one-sided as Wanda pretends to listen to his voice. She isn’t focused on the words he’s saying, just the burning feel of his hand in hers and how wrong it is.

Wanda assumes he’s stalling as they get closer to her building, her dingy one-bedroom apartment is waiting for her, and she can feel the sanctuary she has found there. They approach the building, and he pauses, he’s finally stopped talking and is deliberating on what to say next. Before he had a chance to say anything, Wanda speaks up.

“I had a really nice time tonight, thank you.” She smiles again, it’s small and kind, and she’s anxious to get inside.

“I did, too. Thank you for coming,” he’s beaming now, like he can see their second and third and last date together. He steels himself and pulls her close by her hand, his other cupping her waist. She’s surprised when his lips meet hers, but she lets her eyes close and her other hand rest on his shoulder. He pulls away and smiles at her. “I hope we can do this again, soon. Goodnight, Wanda.” He gives a small wave and begins to walk in the direction he came.

Wanda releases a breath she didn’t know she had been holding, the ache in her chest lessening as she watches the man walk away. She curses herself for not remembering his name, it’s the least she could have done.

It’s a fitful night’s sleep. Not that she ever rests anymore. Her waking moments are consumed with thoughts of Vision and his dull red and grey and lifeless form. How it was her who did it - who killed him- the first time and how he had to suffer a second time. How he wasn’t coming back. Her dreams weren’t any better.

She’s back in the S.W.O.R.D headquarters, staring at Vision’s body and her words come back to her, “I can’t feel you.” Here, those words ring true over and over again echoing through her ears. It is when Vision’s mouth opens in a gasp, and she still doesn’t feel him. Instead, she feels a horrible dread because she’s had this dream, over and over again, and she knows what happens next. Vision’s body is no longer dissected and on different tables, he is put back together in a tangled jumble of wires and sparks, and he’s still dead. His eyes are still blank, he is swaying in front of her in this new black space - what happened to the surrounding lab? - His arms reach for her, and she feels her legs carry her toward him. She still feels the love for him, the pain for him, but she still does not feel him. She wraps her arms around him, around the stitches and the incorrect parts.

Something is different, in this dream. Vision looks down at her with his horrifying eyes, and he examines her, that much she can feel.

“Wanda, darling,” His voice is monotonous and fading, like his program is trying to restart. “Someone else has kissed you.” He observes.

“It was a mistake, Vis, I-,” Wanda begins to speak but Vision’s color begins to flood through him, vibrant red and silver. Her breath escapes her lungs - how could she forget how beautiful he is? He is repaired, whole, made anew and he is holding her in his strong arms, just as he used to.

His eyes are alive now, and they’re analyzing her. They bore into hers and she presses a hand against his cheek, a tear sliding down her own. “When you look into his eyes,” Vision begins to speak and Wanda’s memory of the man’s mocha eyes flash back into view, crinkling as he smiles at her from across their shared table . “Do you think of mine?” His lips graze hers gently, never actually planting. She can’t handle the idea of never kissing him again.

Wanda’s breath has left her lungs and she can’t breathe. She’s drowning, she’s sure she is.

“Vision, he is nothing to me.” She chokes and blinks, and Vision is back to his muddled red, dead eyes seeing her soul. He cocks his head and pushes her away from him, sending her stumbling backward. “Vis, please,” she cries now, a sob escaping her lips.

“This is all your fault, Wanda.” His voice is loud and electric, like he’s speaking through a megaphone at her. She crumples to her knees as he continues to stare her down, and she feels so small. She sobs and cries and can’t look at him any more, her arms wrapping around herself. She can’t make herself look up at him because she knows his eyes will break her. She can’t tell if he’s still there or now as she cries, because she still can’t feel him. Guilt and fear and panic rise up her throat like bile, tasting like blood.

She’s underneath abrasive sterile lights again as the scene changes once more, she’s back in the S.W.O.R.D lab and Vision is lying motionless on the table, pulled apart in chunks. She does not try to feel him again. She knows he will not be there. His words echo around her. “This is all your fault, Wanda.”

She wakes in a cold sweat, her tears streaming freely down her face. She is exhausted and frayed and left alone in the nearly empty apartment she has for herself. She sits up and pulls her knees to her chest, letting her cries come as they please.

She can’t feel him anymore, and it is all her fault.

—

Taglist: @elijahs-wife @dumble-daddy @alwaysfangirlingish @akshi8278 @nikmikaelsonswife @njeancastro316 @brown-eyed-babes

#devs600celebration #maymcupromptchallenge #Wanda Maximoff #Wanda #Vision #mcu #marvel #it’s wanda trying to move on after vision #Wanda deserves better I’m so sorry #wandavision spoilers #I’m sO NERVOUS #also I’m not able to make a moodboard for it rn am sad #fanfiction #wanda maximoff fanfiction

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softsebnbuckystan · 3 years

Text

Soul ties - Part 12 (Bucky Barnes au)

“Send your dreams where nobody hides

Give your tears to the tide”

Rushing to the compound felt surreal. Sam was driving as fast as he could as you were already thinking of the most efficient way to deal with the situation. You were a doctor in biology and chemistry. Healing was a piece of cake for you. This shouldn't be any different.

"What injury did he suffer?" you asked, hiding the panic in your voice and leaving a crack in the car window to get some fresh air.

"Stab wound. It's pretty bad."

You scratched your forehead, doing your best not to give any thought to the pain Bucky was most likely going through.

"He was injected with the same serum as Steve, meaning he has the same healing process as him. One simple stab wound shouldn't be 'bad', so it has to be more than that."

Sam's grip on the stirring wheel tightened. He kept looking straight away, but he squeezed your hand once.

"Steve was freaked out. He might've overestimated the damage."

"Or underestimated. They might be super soldiers, Sam, but that doesn't make them invincible."

"I know."

"Sorry. I shouldn't be so dry. I'm just thinking. If..."

"We're almost there," he said, cutting you off. "I know the way you work, and I'm convinced you'll know what to do as soon as you see him."

The wind in your hair wasn't enough to calm you down and Sam had barely stopped the car when you opened the door and ran to the compound. You were moving so fast your throat and lungs were burning, as you were not used to such physical exercises. You'd never been shaped for the field, nor had you ever wanted to be. You barged in the lab and put your hair up in a ponytail to keep it away from your face. Bucky was lying on a metal table : you noticed he was pressing the side of his abdomen. Blood had stained his tight grey shirt. The blood on his face and shoulders, however, you concluded came from Steve carrying him. His eyes were open : good. After putting on sterilised gloves, you grabbed a pair of scissors and cut through his shirt. You hadn't even noticed Steve and Bruce's presence.

"Go, both of you," you told them as you assessed the wound, ignoring how Bucky's mouth was twisted with pain. "I've got this."

Bruce didn't need to be told twice : he trusted your skills with his life. It might have been Steve's case as well, but leaving his friend's side seemed harder for him to do.

"Steve, go. I won't be able to focus."

Your stern voice was what finally made him leave the room, closing the doors behind him. Bucky, still lying down, grabbed your wrist, staining the white gloves with red.

"It's bad, isn't it?" he asked.

"Nothing I can't fix," you assured him. You'd switched to working mode as soon as you'd seen him, but totally getting rid of your emotions wasn't the easiest thing to do.

"Your voice is shaking," he noted. "I.." – He let out a small grunt. – "Are you sure you're okay?"

You let out a sarcastic and nervous scoff. "Yeah, my voice is shaky but my hands are not. I'm the one who should ask if you're okay. Now shut up, unless I ask you something."

You didn't pay attention to his furrowed brows or confused look. The only thing you were looking for, while applying pressure to his wounds, was any particular sign of pain. He wasn't hiding it, unlike some of your teammates (Natasha came to your mind).

"It's deep," you explained. "Can you press this cloth for a second?"

He nodded and immediately got to it, allowing you to grab a scanner to see if any vital organs or blood canals had been severed. Locating the most damaged canal took you two seconds. You had no time for an anaesthesia ; you didn't have much doubt about Bucky's ability to bear pain. You used clamps to keep the wound open.

"This might itch," you said as you grabbed the electrocautery and applied it to the bleeding canal. You knew his face was contorted with pain, but you couldn't let your soft side win in those situations. Seeing people in pain was the hardest part of your job.

The rest of the surgery went on in silence, aside from Bucky's occasional grunt or sigh. Once you were done stitching the wound, you helped him sit up and bandaged the area. You wiped the sweat on your forehead with a towel, moving wet streaks of hair out of the way. Caring for this spectacular stab wound had taken around two hours, so you allowed yourself to drink some water before handing Bucky the bottle and tending to his other scratches. He probably didn't need this kind of medical assistance, but leaving him scathed was out of the picture.

"You need to hydrate yourself."

He took a long sip as you cleaned the multiple scratches he had on his right harm. His shoulder had taken the most of it, leading you to think he'd fallen from a higher place.

"What happened?" you finally asked. "I thought this was supposed to be an easy mission."

Now that you didn't need to focus as much and that the overall fear for Bucky's safety had passed, tears were threatening to come to your eyes.

"It was. Doesn't mean those guys weren't jerks."

"Bucky," – you carefully captured his chin between your fingers to make him look at you – "what happened?"

"Natasha got in harm's way. I knew she couldn't take it as good as me. It was the smart play."

"No, it was the bold, reckless way," you retorted. "You have no idea what Steve's call put me through. I thought..."

"Hey, I'm okay. Thanks to you," he whispered as he stroked your cheek. "I couldn't let them hurt someone who might've died. I knew I'd come out of this, that's why I did it."

You lowered your gaze and your eyes lingered on the numerous scars his naked torso displayed. You traced some of them with your fingers : on his collarbone, on his abdominal muscles, on his shoulders, and so on. You could tell there was a story behind each of these, and you assumed they were stories he would rather not talk about.

"I'm sorry you had to see those," he said. It was barely a whisper, so low you weren't sure you'd heard it right. "They're from my time with H.Y.D.R.A."

"Don't be sorry. Remember what you asked me about your arm?" – He nodded. – "This is no different. It's you, and that's all I care about."

You ran a hand through his hair : it'd been hardened by dried blood in some places. You closed your eyes and laid a kiss on his forehead before going to one of the cupboards to get him a lab coat. A warm sensation made its way to your stomach as you realised how easy it was being with him, how natural it seemed, how meant-to-be it felt, how...

"Wear this," you told him. "We need to do something about all this blood."

As if they'd been expecting you to come out, Steve, Nat and Sam jumped to their feet when you opened the door. Bucky tried getting up on his own as well, but you grabbed his arm just as fast.

"You might be healing fast, Sergeant Barnes, but I'm not keeping you out of my sight just yet," you joked lightly.

Bucky was holding the coat closed over his chest, his other hand squeezing your back in gratitude.

"How are you, Buck?" Steve asked.

"Good, don't worry. 'T was just a scratch."

You gave him a grave look. "It was not a simple scratch," you corrected, "but he's fine. All I ask is that you rest for today. That should be enough, with your metabolism."

"Go rest, now, or you won't hear the end of it with this one," Sam said, gesturing in your direction.

"He's right," Natasha joined in. "She's secretly quite bossy."

You smiled to her. "I have to be! None of you listen to medical advice, so I have to be assertive. It's for your own good."

"And we love you for it," Steve added with a grin. "Now go put this guy to bed."

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle lightly, making him reach for his healing wound. It was obviously still hurting a little. You finally left the others and took him to your bathroom. Your bathtub was lower than the floor, which allowed you to sit on the edge as Bucky got in, after taking off his clothes, staying in his underwear. None of you spoke a word as you washed his hair and rubbed the remaining blood off of his skin. You ended up plunging your legs in the tub and let Bucky rest his head on your knees as you ran your fingers through his hair, silence embracing you both.

"Are you still hurting?" you asked.

"Only a little." He seized one of your hands and kissed your fingers. "Thank you," he added.

"Don't thank me, I'm doing what I vowed to do."

A smile made its way to Bucky's face as he sat up and turned around. "Do you wash every single of your patients' hair?"

You shook your head. "No. That's the unexpected, coffee-spilling, caring soulmate package."

He looked hesitant for the smallest second before extending his arms, waiting for a hug.

"You're soaked," were the only words to come out of your mouth.

"Do you care? Your pants are already in the water, so..."

"Might as well," you said, finishing his sentence. You leaned on the bathtub's edge as your knees hit the bottom. Resting on your arms, you were only a few inches away from Bucky's face. You pressed your lips against his and closed your eyes, wondering what allowed it to feel so good. You didn't give a damn about your clothes anymore and they were bloody anyway, so you broke the kiss and laid in Bucky's arms, resting your head on his chest and your legs entangling. You'd made sure the water was warm enough and it still hadn't cooled off, thankfully.

"We probably shouldn't stay in here," you admitted. "We might just fall asleep and drown."

"Now that would be a shame," he agreed. "Just a few more minutes then. Please?"

You tilted your head up to look him in the eyes and smirked.

"I'll give you all the minutes you want, Buck."

--- Damn, I sure loved writing this part. I hope you liked it too! Part 13 will be the last one. :)

Tag list : @ginger-swag-rapunzel @joscelyn02 @bluemoon-icecream @writehistorynotthegrocerylist @lady-loki-ren @simplybombshell @lizajane3 @livingonkpop @kaitieskidmore1

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #james bucky barnes #tfatws #catws #self insert #x reader #x you #x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #fluff

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