#just... flames. flames on the side of my face

[dark-and-kawaii]

ʚ♡ɞ New Life & Beginnings ʚ♡ɞ

- Rolan x F!Tav/Reader

- Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

- Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

✧˖°. Summary: Separate stories involving Rolan, Zevlor, and Raphael with their newborns.

✧˖°. Notes: I’m a sucker for these men being dads, and I just needed some softness… And a little angst for Zevlor

✦ Fluff | Prt 1. For Zevlor but not needed to read this | Hint of Angst For Zevlor & Rolan | Dadphael

Rolan

Rolan stood by the window, cradling a newborn in his arms. The child, swaddled in soft, faded blue linens, was a stark contrast to the crimson of Rolan's skin. His tail swayed gently back and forth in rhythm with the quiet hum he sang to soothe the infant.

It was a rare sight indeed. He never thought he’d hum to some infant, let alone his very own. But he figured this child, his child, deserved everything he never got to experience. His own childhood had been marked by absence, devoid of a loving mothers touch and a fathers protection…

Life had not always been kind to Rolan. As an orphaned tiefling with horns that curled back like the branches of a twisted tree and eyes the color of molten gold, he had wandered through his early years shrouded in solitude. No last name to claim, no family to return to after his day's adventures. That was until Cal and Lia found him.

Now, here he stands in a grand tower to call his own, his life transformed yet again. The room was filled with the quiet murmur of a new beginning. His gaze drifted towards the bundle of pillows on the floor where you, his beloved, rested deeply. The labor had been long and taxing, and Rolan despised the fact it happened here in the tower. Still though, a faint smile crossed his features as he whispered a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

The infant, perhaps sensing the warmth of his father's gratitude, joined in on the thanks and cooed softly, a delicate sound that seemed to stitch the very air with joy and its very own magic. Rolan chuckled, a sound rich with love, and lowered his face to plant a gentle kiss on the baby’s forehead.

But the tranquility of the moment was abruptly punctuated by a tiny sneeze from his little one. Reflexively, Rolan pulled back slightly, just in time to see a small flame burst forth from the baby’s nostrils... The flame caught the ends of Rolan’s hair, igniting them with a soft fizz.

Rolan's initial annoyance flickered across his face as quickly as the flame had caught his hair. He patted down the singed ends with a practiced hand, his expression melting into one of bewildered joy. The tiny sneeze had revealed something extraordinary about his child.

“By the stars,” Rolan murmured, his annoyance flickering away as quickly as it had ignited, replaced by a surge of excitement. “A sorcerer?… Or should I say, sorceress?” His voice was a mix of wonder and pride as he looked down at his daughter, whose big eyes blinked back at him, unaware of her fiery debut, “If you wish to master your skills you’ll need a good teacher. Thankfully you have everything you need- right here.”

Turning back towards the cozy corner where you slept, his tail continued swishing softly behind him. Carefully, almost tenderly, he nudged the sheet with the tip of his tail, pulling it up to tuck around you more securely. He then sat down beside you, his smile never wavering.

“I- I can't thank you enough,” Rolan reached for your hand, holding it gently between his, “Before you, my world was a tapestry with beautiful threads but no real picture.” he glanced down at yours and his daughter, “you've helped me start a family to call my own, besides Cal and Lia.”

His tail curled around, encircling both himself and his daughter as he continued to hold your hand.

Once an orphan, now a cherished father and partner. Rolan found himself at the center of his own growing family, with a sense of belonging he had never imagined possible.

Zevlor

His sleep was anything but peaceful… Zevlor tossed his head from side to side, his features twisting in torment. The sheets were crumpled beneath him, damp with sweat, as he muttered a sullen, “gods... no.” Each word was a whisper of despair, barely escaping his lips as the nightmare clenched its cold fingers around his mind.

In the throes of his dream, he found himself with blood stained hands as you lay lifeless in his arms. His hands tainted with your blood, his own sword impaled through your slightly distended abdomen… The nightmare depicted a grim scene where the influence of the Absolute had pushed him too far. By the time he realized his actions, it was tragically too late…

While holding your still form, Zevlor shut his eyes tightly, tear drops forming at their edges, desperately praying to any deity that might hear his cries, begging that this horror was not reality. Yet, upon reopening his eyes, the haunting image remained unchanged… There you were, still and devoid of life. His hand grazed your stomach, his head resting against yours, as he envisioned the life that might have been…

The tiefling bolted upright, shaken from the harrowing nightmare, his heartbeat pounding as the nightmarish visions clung to his mind. He extended his hand hesitantly, a wave of relief washing over him when he felt the comforting warmth of your sleeping figure beside him.

“It was only just a dream…” he whispered, though the words did little to calm his frayed nerves. Rolling onto his side, he pulled you close, his tail coiling around your leg to help keep you in place. He took a deep breath, inhaling your familiar scent as if to reassure himself of your presence. You stirred slightly but did not wake, for which he was grateful. He did not think he could speak of the horrors he'd seen. Far too afraid that you might have regrets keeping him at your side.

With a tilt of his head, Zevlor surveyed the room in search of the sole other treasure that held immense value in his existence. His infernal gaze landed on the crib where his beloved child peacefully slumbered. Silently he stood and peered into the crib, observing the delicate rhythm of his precious newborn’s tranquil breaths, finding solace in their steady respiration. Recollections of tender smiles and tiny grasping fingers alleviated the remnants of fear lingering in his thoughts.

How close he'd come to losing everything that day… When the absolute swayed him… Never again though. Never.

Quietly, Zevlor lifted the babe and returned to your side.

Holding his child close, the newborn's tiny heartbeat and warmth proof that the nightmare was not truly a reality.

“I vow to you, my child, and to your mother,” he whispered softly, his voice a tender rumble in the quiet of the night. “I will be your shield, your protector. No harm shall come to you as long as I draw breath.”

Zevlor's gaze shifted from the baby back to you. The sight of you both, safe and sound, was truly a balm to his troubled soul. Carefully, he adjusted his child in his arms, ensuring they were snug and secure. With a deep, steadying breath, he allowed himself a moment to simply be present, soaking in the quiet joy of fatherhood and being your lover. The fears of his nightmare seemed to dissolve, replaced by a quiet confidence borne of love and duty.

As the night deepened, Zevlor continued to watch over his little family. Every so often, he would gently touch the baby's cheek or brush a soft kiss against your forehead. These small acts reaffirming himself that this comforting reality was indeed true, not merely an illusion.

Raphael

In your room where shadows danced with the dim candlelight, all was silent except for your gentle breaths as you slept soundly. The bed, large and ornate, cradled not only your dreams but also a newborn, wrapped in delicate linens embroidered with gold stitches. You, with a serene expression, appeared as a portrait of peace as you held your infant close to your heart.

It was always around this time that the air shifted subtly, a warmth flooding the room, a sharp scent of sulfur and cherries mingling with your very own fragrance. From the darker corners of the room emerged a figure, tall and imposing, wrapped in fine silks to match the hells of which he was born from.

As Raphael approached the bed, his movements were silent, almost reverent. His fingers, warm and soft, traced a path up your exposed arm, stopping just short of your face. For a moment, he merely stood, his gaze shifting between you and the child nestled within your arms. A rare, tender expression softened the harsh lines of his face.

With the care of one who handles precious artifacts, Raphael gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. His touch was surprisingly tender, a contrast to his usual character. “Such a sleepy little mouse,” he murmured with an affectionate tone, one that seemed unfamiliar on his lips, “how quaint.”

Carefully, he lifted the infant from your embrace. The baby, undisturbed, continued to sleep, her tiny chest rising and falling in a calm rhythm. Raphael seated himself on the edge of the bed, ensuring every movement was calculated and silent, not to disturb the peaceful slumber of the infant's mother, you.

Holding the child merely inches from him, he looked at her with a complex mixture of emotions; affection, pride, perhaps even a hint of fear. His eyes, usually so piercing and cold, warmed as they rested on the child's placid face.

Raphael's attention was momentarily drawn to the balcony where a pseudo dragon perched, its eyes fixed on him with an unblinking gaze. The creature, a guardian by nature, watched with a protective intensity, ready to act should it perceive any threat to the child.

Turning his gaze back to the infant, Raphael spoke softly, his voice a whisper that carried weight and promise, “When she is grown, she will rule the nine hells with me.” The declaration was not just a statement of future events; it was a father's vow, a ruler's plan, “the perfect heir.” His daughter, this innocent soul, was not just any infant; she was his daughter, destined to share his ruling over the realms of damnation.

The room remained silent, the only sound the occasional flutter of the pseudo dragon's wings and the steady breathing of you and his child. Raphael continued to hold his daughter, his mind undoubtedly racing with plans and dreams of what was to come. For now, however, this moment was tender, a father bonding with his daughter, their future sprawling before them like the starlit sky outside the balcony.

[thebadboyfanclub]

I Will Never Leave You (Daemon x Reader)

I think this more a love letter to Rhaenyra than anything but I’m really proud of this one cause I adore writing characters like this, I hope you guys enjoy it

Rhaenyra adored her mother since she drew her first breath, yet the woman she admired the most and desperately seemed her nod of approval was her beloved aunt (y/n) Targaryen, the middle child of prince Baelon and princess Alyssa, the seat between the brothers suited her, (y/n) had the good heart and the bright mind of her older brother that went hand in hand with the wild spirit and the constant need to protect the ones she called her own that she passed down to Daemon.

(Y/n) had been by Rhaenyras side when she needed her the most, wrapping her arms around the shaking frame of the young princess burying her face at the crook of (y/n)s neck.

“Dracarys”

Even though the dragon was not (y/n)s, beautiful Syrax complied whilst Rhaenyra broke down at the arms of her aunt, (y/n) ran her fingers through Rhaenyras long hair to offer her comfort as she whispered the lullaby she would sing to her when she was little.

She had also been the one to almost harass her beloved brother and king to name Rhaenyra his heir.

“As much as I love my lord husband, he is not fit to lead, the weight of the realm will crush him until he bursts into flames, we can prevent this, you can prevent this”

“And name Rhaenyra my heir? A queen has not sat the iron throne”

“Why not name the princess your heir? She is the second born”

Otto had questioned, (y/n) side eyed the man before she looked down to collect her thoughts, the wound of her brothers digging their claws on that piece of metal had brought such mental combat between them, turning blood against one another, if she had taken a go at them then all efforts for a harmonious family would have gone to war ages ago.

“I am afraid it is too late for me to claim what could have been or some could argue “should have been” but the time is just right for my niece, Rhaenyra is the result of the love you shared with the late queen Aemma, you have already wronged her, do not turn your back on the only thing you have left of her”

(Y/n) and Daemon had wed a fortnight after Viserys and Aemma, their wedlock’s were as similar as the sun with the moon, Daemon and (y/n) mirrored one another, their fire burned bright and their thick skulls could cause the the strongest storm to lash, still at the end of the day they ended up in each others arms, holding each other tight and whispering words of love and admiration.

(Y/n) was the only one that could keep Daemon on a leash, staying by his side as he raged for the “disrespect” their brother had shown, in a delicate manner (y/n) would always grab his hand and bring it up to her cheek to ground him.

“I love you and your bravery, however I do despise when you let your rage overtake everything that’s good in you, let me fix this for you”

Daemon would always take her in his arms and kiss her lips with all the might he could master. (Y/n) was his life line, her eyes were like a much needed breath after a deep dive, her smile resembled the feeling of the brisk air on the early hours of a summer day, her hair was as soft as a birds feather as it brushed on his skin, and her touch, oh that touch of hers…like a soothing balm on Daemons wounded heart.

“What is the matter, my love?”

“We must fly to kings landing by the morrow”

“Has something happened?”

“Lucerys’s claim is at question by Vaemond, Lord Corlys has not even passed and they are already circling around Rhaenyra like crows”

(Y/n) half mumbled half explained whilst her fingers rubbed circles on her temples, (y/n) had never voiced it still a pang of guilt ate her soul as slow as the carnivores ate their dead prey whenever she exchanged letters with Rhaenyra, she gave up on her, she left her alone to fight against those Hightowers, withering away as the bastards started to tighten the rope around the heiress’s neck.

Daemon puffed out a breath, the conversation had always been the same, (y/n) would often bring up her concerns over Rhaenyras well being, asking Daemon if mayhaps they made a mistake by leaving her, fabricating elaborate scenarios of how things could have been different.

With caution Daemon approached his lady wife and once he reached her he placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs rubbing circles on her aching shoulders as she slouched back and a grunt of pleasure left her, the flames from the fireplace licking her face in such a complimenting light, had he not touched her he could assume she was just an extremely accurate portrait from the hands of an exceptionally gifted artist.

“Rhaenyra is strong, she will overcome this”

“Rhaenyra is alone, our brother is barely able to make a sentence, she cannot stand alone at court”

“And what do you think our presence will do? We have been cast away for far too long, no one will pay attention to what we have to say on the matter, besides, driftmark is none of our responsibility”

After the birth of their first born daughter Enora Daemon and (y/n) decided to leave kings landing and reside in Pentos, granting protection with their dragons they were gifted with land and lived like the Targaryens only knew how to live.

“It is under the Targaryen rule, our closests bond to old Valyria”

“Dragons are our bond, which we have our own”

(Y/n) stood up from her chair to face her lord husband, fury that intertwined with confusion painted across her face as her eyebrows furrowed and her lips half open from the shock that his dismiss had caused.

Daemon resented when they fought, he did not enjoy his love being cross with him, though he loved a battle he would hang on dear life on anything and say whatever to make her curl up in his arms with content.

“You do not want to come with me” (y/n) stated

“I do not believe we will change anything”

“You believe that? Out of all I thought you would be the one to get on your dragon the fastest”

“You are with child, our other children are happy here, must we indulge in that mess?”

“That mess? Our brother has been crippled, our niece tortured by the Hightower and now she asks for our aid and you think I will just ignore it”

“You are emotional”

“I am, and proud of it, I will fly to kings landing with my children, you can choose to stay and hide behind our thick and tall walls of this castle. I will not leave our legacy, our blood, to slowly perish. It is your decision at the end of the day”

Daemon puffed out of breath before he reached for (y/n)s arms to which (y/n) stepped back to avoid, her eyes that spewed fire starring right into his soul.

(Y/n) was the diplomat out of the pair, one can imagine the surprise of her stubbornness when it came to this, which also revealed how important this was for (y/n).

“You mustn’t get upset in your condition”

“That is something you should remember, I was fine until I saw that the years turned you into a coward”

(Y/n) spat inches away from his face, with hurried and swift motions she intentionally bumped his shoulder as she made her exit of their chamber, Daemon did not catch a wink of sleep, (y/n) had never slept at another chamber separately since they had wed.

As the sun started to shyly make its descent (y/n) was assisting her three children on their dragons for their journey to kings landing.

“Hold on”

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder to find her husband with his dragon walking towards them, she had to admit that leaving without him would have costed her a great deal, she wanted him by her side, to help her, to hold her, to have her.

“What made you change your mind?”

“My astonishing devotion to you and your stubbornness, I won’t leave you alone with the wolves”

Daemon reassured her before he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, a smile making its way to (y/n)s lips as she gazed at him with love, that sparkle of joy was what kept Daemon alive, he would risk anything to see her well.

A giggle that came from their youngest children interrupted their sweet moment, Daemon and (y/n) looked up as the twins sat on their dragons, admiring the deep affection that oozed out of their parents, Daemon only winked at his children in response and turned back to his lady wife.

“Allow me dearest”

A shriek was heard when Daemon swiped the princess off her feet and lifted her up at her green dragon Zephyr. The family landed unexpectedly since they had not given any information to their visit, Otto and Alicent were fuming upon their arrival, the pair would stir the pot and cause chaos all in the princesses name, Otto was certain of it.

However no one could expect the ever defiant (y/n) holding Viserys by his right arm and the stoic prince Daemon holding the king by the left.

“King Viserys of house Targaryen, first of his name, king of the andals, and the rhoynar and the first men, Lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm, with princess (y/n) Targaryen and Prince Daemon Targaryen”

Time stood still as they entered the throne room, (y/n) had persisted on visiting her brother, encouraging him to stand and back Rhaenyras claim, begging him to find his strength and sit on the iron throne.

“I will sit the throne today”

Viserys was able to say to Otto who only bowed his head and stepped aside. When (y/n) gently assisted her brother to sit comfortably his crown managed to move and fall, Daemon was the one that caught it and placed it back on Viserys head. As the pair took a step back (y/n) was the first to curtsy in front of him.

“My king”

She whispered before she smiled, Viserys managed to get a hold of her hand and bring it up to his deformed lips, as cold and slimy the weird texture of his lips left on her hand (y/n) looked back on that memory until the end of her days, as many times as they fought (y/n) held a spot for Viserys, one of loyalty and respect.

Daemon snaked his arm around her waist as they went down the steps and took their place next to a baffled and ecstatic Rhaenyra, (y/n) subtly nodded and side eyed Rhaenyra letting her know she is her for her.

As Viserys reaffirmed Lucerys claim and Rhaenys announced the betrothal of Baela and Rhaena (y/n) was ready to turn and hug her dear niece when Vaemond stepped in front of the king, interrupting the glorious moment.

“You break law and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir, don’t you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon, No, I will not allow it”

“Allow it? I do not think anyone hear asked for your opinion Ser…. Apologies I haven’t been at court in so long, what is your name?”

(Y/n)s words sliced through Vaemond like Valyrian steel and Rhaenyra struggled to hide her chuckle, Daemon stood proudly by her side though his grip tightened around her waist when Vaemonds eyes fell on her for a brief moment before he pointed to Lucerys.

“THAT! is no true Velaryon and certainly not a nephew of mine”

Rhaenyra as the mother that she is took a step forward to stand closer to Vaemond and in front of Lucerys, what no one had seen was an important question that (y/n) had whispered at her husband.

“Which side is your sword on today?”

“Go to your chambers, you’ve said enough”

“Lucerys is my true born grandson and you are no more than the second son of drift mark”

“You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine, my house survived the doom”

“To which you owe it to much greater men than you Vaemond, men that knew their place and played their part in history, something that you refuse to do”

“And you think that you can tell me what my place is? Your brother skipped over you and gave the name of heir to your niece, the gods know what you have done to make him skip over you and your… husband, my name survived and gods be damned I will not see it ended on the account of this”

“Say it, say it”

Daemon antagonised the man, (y/n) assumed her position and slipped away from Daemons grip, her hand gliding from his back all the way down to his sword, dark sister, and pulled it out the sound of metal brushing against its scabbard was enough to make (y/n) grind her teeth in annoyance, thankfully no one seemed to pay attention to what she was up to.

Except Daemon whom had already a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he internally thanked whoever blessed him to change his mind and was now going to be a witness on this wonderful event and as he viewed it “important milestone” in his lady wife’s life.

Vaemond was caught in his own fury and sense of entitlement to see his end coming, even if he had seen (y/n) with a sword he would pay her no mind, a man of such ignorance wouldn’t feel threaten by a woman with a swollen belly or any woman for that matter.

“Her children are BASTARDS and she.is.a.whore”

“I will have your tongue for that”

Daemon watched with pride as his wife lifted the sword and with one clean slice Vaemonds head was cut right above his tongue. Enora was taken aback by her mothers acts while her two siblings Alastor and Aelia hid behind their fathers legs to avoid witnessing the gruesome sight of the corpse at such a young age.

(Y/n) stood still as the sword touched the ground to support her, glaring down at the man that had so much to say, a man that thought himself as indestructible and yet he laid on the cold floor as his blood gushed out of him and pooled on the ground.

“He can keep his tongue, to explain his treachery to the gods”

“Disarm her”

Otto commanded as his voice boomed through the throne room like a proper king that would command his kings guards to obviously attack (y/n), though the real king -Viserys- had just opened his mouth to stop this when Daemon took only a step forward.

“Don’t you dare”

Daemon warned them, in a rather surprisingly composed way for the situation Daemon approached her and took the sword from her, wiping it away at his clothes lazily before he placed it back on its original spot, his hand brushed a few strands of hair that had moved and let it glide behind her shoulder, he preferred it when her hair was out of her face, so he can fully take in her beauty.

(Y/n) was seen smiling brightly, basking in her accomplishment that was so grotesque that some reported that a numerous ladies that had been witnesses had fainted or vomited at the sight.

“You must rest, my love”

“Before that”

(Y/n) proclaimed, she left her husbands side momentarily only to stand before Rhaenyra, her hands going up to cup her nieces cheeks and place a kiss on top of the heiress head, a gesture that held such affection and compassion, (y/n) had Rhaenyra in her heart and her mind as her own daughter, images of the princess running careless on the grass and finding refuge in (y/n)s hug flashed before (y/n)s eyes.

“My dear niece”

“(Y/n)” Rhaenyra breathed out

“I will never leave you, ever”

Requests are open!

[arlana-likes-to-write]

You Look Happier

Part 4 of the Family, Pawns, and Sins of the Family

Summary: After every thing you've been though, it's time to move forward. While doing just that you run into a unlikely friend that looks past the scars you bare.

Warning: panic attack, mention of past abuse, suicidal thoughts, fluff, Kamala is a joy and I love her, small scene of a guy grabbing the reader, mention of nightmares, facing past abusers in court.

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: Ignore the fact that I said the next chapter of Second Chance will be posted today, I finished this one shot instead lol. Also, this will probably be the last part of this!

*

Healing was not linear. If this whole experience taught you one thing, it was that. Some days were good. They were great. You smiled and laughed without restraint. Those good days bleed into good weeks. Then, the darkness over your shoulder would rear its ugly head. All your hard work to overcome everything seemed pointless when you couldn’t leave your bed and your moms stayed by your side out of fear you would hurt yourself. There were close calls. The overwhelming urge sometimes became too much. You wanted to feel anything besides their hands on you.

Tonight was the end of a terrible day. You shut down after your therapy appointment. The mid-afternoon nap you took was ruined by a nightmare, and the court called, and they needed you to testify against Principal Cook. It was not your day. Still, you managed to pull yourself out of bed when the Avengers came over for a cookout. You sat at the fire pit with a marshmallow on the end of the stick. The flames engulfed the sticky treat and fell into the fire. Sighing, you blew out the flame and leaned back into the chair. You pulled the blanket to your chin and watched the get-together.

“Hey bug,” Natasha slid next to you. The chair was big enough for you two to sit comfortably without touching it, but you folded it against her. You buried your face in her shoulder and felt her hand draw shapes on your back. “How are you feeling?” Lying was never an option when they asked you this question. They would rather have the brutal, honest truth than a lie. It was a hard thing to overcome in the beginning.

“I’m,” Tired. Sad. Angry. “Struggling.” You sighed.

“Yeah,” Natasha kissed your forehead. “Today was a lot.” You nodded against her.

“Have you heard from the lawyers?” It was Natasha’s turn to sigh and kiss your forehead again.

“Not yet. They are talking with Cook’s defense team and hoping the man will take a plea deal.” You nodded and closed your eyes. The constant motion and her soft humming almost sent you to sleep. “Your mama and I have to go to the tower tomorrow. Is it okay to have your therapy session online?” The other thing was they refused to let you stay home alone on terrible days. It made sense. Through all of this, they wanted you to be safe.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “That’s fine.” There was no need to open your eyes because you knew there was a smile on her face.

“I love you, our firefly.”

“I love you too, mom.”

*

Today was better. Your therapist let you discuss your relationship with Wanda, Natasha, and the twins. It was a breath of fresh air to talk about something positive. The two Avengers were still in their meeting, so you waited for them on the common floor. It was half your fault. You were looking at your phone when a body slammed into you, causing you and your phone to fall to the ground. “Are you okay? Is your phone okay? Do you have a concussion?” You blinked at the girl with long brown hair and bright brown eyes. “Oh my god, I’ve concussed you.” She cried, placing her hands on top of her head.

“I’m not-wait. Who are you?”

“I’m Kamala Khan,” she offered you her hand, which you took to stand up.

“I’m-”

“Oh, I know who you are. Peter won’t stop talking about you. He says, You’re super cool.”

“I’m-” broken. Hurt. Sad. “Okay,” she laughed, and the sound erupted butterflies in your stomach. You noticed you were still holding her hand, and you dropped it suddenly. “Sorry,” you whispered. She smiled, picked up your phone, and looked it over.

“It’s not broken. I would have hated it if I gave you a concussion and broke your phone.” you were surprised by the laugh that you let out. It only made Kamala’s smile grow. “Here you go.”

“You should put your number in it,” a surge of confidence washed through you. Her eyebrows went up. “I mean, you did assault me. I think you owe me,” her mouth opened and closed like a fish. It was cute.

“I see why Peter likes you,” she said, handing you the phone so you could open it, and she quickly put her number on it. “I have to run-”

“Hopefully, not into someone again,” you said with a playful smile. She rolled her eyes.

“But I’ll see you again. Text me so I can have your number, too.” You waved bye as she ran off. Flopping onto the couch, you sent Kamala a simple hello with your name. For some reason, your cheeks were hurting from your smile.

*

You giggled at the funny meme Kamala sent you of Yelena and Kate that she made. You befriended the girl three days ago, and her goal seemed to make you smile. Even after a tough day at therapy, you were welcomed with messages from her that made it better. “Alright, enough,” your phone was ripped away from you. You gasped as you watched Yelena go through your phone. “You’ve been giggling all night. Who are you texting?”

“Mama, tell her to give me my phone back,” Wanda chuckled, standing over the stove to make dinner.

“Give her the phone back, Belova,” the witch laughed. “But I am curious who has got you smiling so much.” Yelena refused to give you the phone.

“First off, you’ve met Kamala,” she handed Wanda your phone. Instead of looking through it like the Black Widow, she returned it to you. “Second, I am going to kill her.” You smiled.

“We ran into each other at the tower,” you texted her, letting her know Yelena saw the memes she made. “Literally,” you mumbled. Every time you thought about how you met your new friend, you laughed. This was amplified when Kamala responded, saying you betrayed her trust.

“Hey,” Yelena snapped her fingers in front of your face. You jumped, not expecting it. “Your mama was talking to you.” The Blonde rolled her eyes and left the kitchen.

“Sorry,” you apologized. “What were you saying?” Wanda smiled with a shake of the head.

“I said dinner is almost ready. Can you go wash up and get your brothers?” You nodded and closed the book you were trying to read, but you were distracted by your phone. “And sweetheart,” you stopped to look at Wanda. “She’s making you smile a lot. Is there more going on?” You felt your body heat up.

“N-no,” you stuttered. “We are just friends,” Wanda smirked. “Mama, we are.”

“Okay, I’m just teasing,” you huffed and walked to your room. You dropped your textbooks and notebooks on your desk. Friends. That was all you and Kamala were. Nothing more. Right?

*

You were nervous as you stood outside Natasha’s home office. You could do this. You could do this. Knocking the door, you heard her voice on the other side telling you to come in. You entered and closed the door. “Hey bug, what -” she stopped mid-question. “Are you okay? You look like you are going to be sick.” Instead of answering, you walked to the front of her desk.

“Can I ask you something?” Natasha nodded, the worry evident on her face. “Can I go to the movies?” The Black Widow blinked at once, twice.

“Jesus, kid, you were about to give me a heart attack,” she let out a shaky breath and placed her hand on her chest for added effect. “Who would you be going with?”

“Uh Kamala,” you played with the fidget ring Yelena gave you after they saved you from Dmitri. “She and a few of her friends are in the city, and they invited me to see Detention Disaster with them.” It was a comedy. You looked at an in-depth review of it, so you knew nothing would trigger you.

“Are you sure? That’s a big step,” you knew what she meant. You rarely went anywhere besides the tower, the park down the street, and your brother’s school. Natasha and Wanda were with you even if you went somewhere outside your comfort zone.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, but you wouldn’t grow or heal if you stayed constant. “But I’d like to try.”

*

“That scene in the cafeteria was so funny,” Bruno said as he walked next to Nakia. “And it was shot so well,” Kamala chuckled and shook her head at her friend.

“Did you enjoy the movie?” She asked you. You were walking behind Bruno and Nakia.

“Yeah, it was funny.” Even after reading the very in-depth review, the movie still managed to make you laugh. Also, the comments Kamala and Bruno made to one another throughout the entire movie added another layer of comedy. They thought they were being quiet. Still, they walked no matter how often Nakia threw popcorn at them. You liked Kamala’s friends, who included you in their group.

“Hey, there is an arcade over here. Do you guys want to go?” Bruno asked. He stopped walking so you could catch up. The arcade was loud and unpredictable. There were too many things to account for.

“It’s up to you,” Kamala said. I can take you back home.” Home was safe and predictable—well, your brothers were not, but they knew your boundaries. But you shook your head.

“An arcade sounds fun,” you said. Today was good, and you wanted to keep hanging out with them. If they wanted to go to an arcade, then you would go no matter how much anxiety swirled in your stomach.

Luckily, it wasn’t busy. A small group of kids was at the basketball game, and some were looking at the prizes through the glass box. You bought a card with your tokens, and Kamala grabbed your hand to show you all her favorite games. You were worried that she thought you were clingy, but she kept a tight hold on you. Playing video games with your brothers helped you with some of the games. You beat Kamala on some of the two-player games.

It was fun, and you pretended you were a normal kid for a split second. No deep trauma that kept you awake at night. No scars that ached when it got cold. You were a kid having fun with her friends.

Until you walked alone as you decided on the next game, you needed a few more tickets and could get a new fidget toy. Suddenly, you felt a body crash against your back, and you stumbled forward. Your first thought of who it was was Kamala. For an Avenger, she was very clumsy. “Hey, watch where the fuck you are going,” you turned around to see a guy; he had to be 18.

“You ran into me,” you said. “You should listen to your advice.” You turned away, but he grabbed your arm and spun you back around. He pushed you against the arcade machine. The corner dug into your lower back, and you let out a pained yelp. Fear washed over you. His mouth was moving, but nothing he said mattered to you. It was happening again. Why? You felt frozen. The way his hands felt on you transported you to Jason, Conner, and Dmitri. Then, a new pair of hands were touching you.

“Hey, Y/n,” the voice said. “You’re safe. I need you to breathe for me.” Your chest felt tight, and it was impossible to get air into your lungs. “What do you need?”

“Hands,” you managed. “Get your hands off of me.” They were removed instantly, and you slid down to the ground, bringing your knees to your chest.

“You know you missed me kicking Bruno’s ass in basketball,” it was Kamala. Kamala was in front of you. “I mean, I was cheating, but don’t tell him that.” You managed a chuckle, which Kamala smiled. “Are you back with me?” You nodded, licking your dry lips. “Bruno and Nakia brought that guy to the manager, and he’s calling the police.” Again, you nodded. “Do you want me to call your parents?”

“No,” you finally spoke. The reality of the situation caught up with you, and embarrassment washed over you. You jumped to your feet. “Shit, sorry that was-”

“Whoa,” Kamala stood up slowly with her hand sup. “It’s okay. You did nothing wrong.” But you did, and if you just walked away from him, none of this would have happened. “No matter what happened, he should have never put his hands on you.” You nodded again. “Come on, let’s go somewhere more private.” She let you go to a small back room used for birthday parties. You were grateful she kept her hands to herself when she opened the door. You slumped in one of the chairs and placed your face in your hands. You heard Kamala sit in front of you. “Are you okay?” She finally asked. You sighed.

“I wanted today to be good and normal,” you said. “But it’s like one step forward and four steps back.”

“Isn’t that the point?” You removed your hands and looked at her. “Healing. Some days are better than others. It’s how it is,” she carefully took your hand, and you allowed her to. “And today was fun. I had fun hanging out with you.”

“I had fun, too,” you admitted. She smiled.

“These things will happen,” she continued. “And that is okay. There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I will be there to help you. If you want me to, at least,” she added quickly. You smiled.

“As long as I don’t scare you off.”

“You could never,” she spoke with so much confidence, and without hesitation, you almost believed her.

Delete Created with Sketch.

Today was a bad day. You had to go down to the courthouse to prepare for your testimony against Principal Cool. He wasn’t there, but you had to relive the whole ordeal. After that, Billy and Tommy begged to get ice cream. However, a man mistook you for someone else and grabbed you by the arm. The cherry on top was Kamala was on a mission with Carol. You missed the way she could make you smile and laugh.

It was past midnight. No matter how many times you tried to go to bed, every horrible thing flashed through your mind. Your phone buzzing caused you to jump, not expecting a phone call. Somehow, just seeing her name made you smile. It felt like your first genuine smile all day. “Hi,” you answered softly.

“Did I wake you up? I am so sorry. I can never figure out what time zone I’m in,” you giggled and rolled onto your back.

“No, I’ve been up. What are you doing calling me?” you asked. “I thought you said it was impossible to find cell service up there.” She was quiet, but you heard shuffling as if she was lying down.

“We usually can’t, but we found some. So Carol is calling Val, Monica is calling her mom, and I’m calling you.” Oh. That was a surprise.

“Why are you calling me?” She had her parents, brother, and her high school friends.

“Because I wanted to silly,” she answered. “Now, why can’t you sleep? Are you okay?”

“I’m,” Kamala knew bits and pieces of what happened to you. You strayed away from the more graphic details. It wasn’t easy to open up to your therapist. “I’m,” you sighed. “I miss you,” you admitted instead. Sometimes, it was easier to change the direction of the conversation.

“Awe, I miss you too,” you heard the smile in her voice. “I’ll be home soon, but you failed to answer my question.” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m tired,” you pushed the calm of your hand to your eye. And you were. You wanted to move past all of this and live a normal life.

“Get some sleep. I-shit. I’m sorry, I have to go. Carol needs me.” You were lucky she couldn’t see you, or she would have seen your frown. “Look, if you need anything, you call me, okay? I may not respond right away, but I’m here.” You nodded.

“Stay safe, superhero.”

“Always.”

*

Soft knocking woke you up. Slowly, you sat up and looked towards the sound. “Kamala,” you whispered. The girl was smiling on the other side of your window. You climbed over to it and opened it. “What are you doing?” She smiled.

“To see you. Can I come in? It’s cold,” you stepped out of the way, and she crawled through the window. It was a little clumsy. Her foot got caught on the window ledge. A small yelp, and she rolled off your bed and onto the floor. You cringed at the sound and were grateful that your room was on the first floor. Soon, your room was filled with laughter.

“Are you okay?” You closed the window. Kamala nodded and rubbed the back of her head.

“My pride took a hit,” you giggled and helped her. “Hi,” she smiled and sat down on your bed.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be in space?”

“Well,” she took off her shoes. “The mission is almost over, and Carol doesn’t need me, so she said I could go home.” You raised her eyebrows at her.

“The last time I checked, this isn’t your house,” she said, looking around the room with a confused expression.

“You know, I thought my room looked a little different. There are not enough Captain Marvel posters,” you rolled your eyes. Besides, Carol may not need me, but you do,” you looked at the ground. Kamala placed her arm around your shoulders. That’s okay, you know that? It’s okay to need people.” You shrugged.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you whispered. “You are an Avenger. You have more important things to worry about than someone as broken as me.” Kamala removed her arm and forced you to sit more on the bed. You crossed your legs to give her more room. She grabbed your hands.

“You are not broken. You are healing. That is a big difference. Soon, all these scars will heal,” you stared at your connected hands.

“What if whatever they broke inside me can never be fixed?” Kamala was quiet. She moved your hands so your palms were facing up. Her fingers were arms as she traced the lines on your hand.

“Then you learn to live without those parts,” she bite her lip. “When I discovered the true nature of my abilities, the old me was gone. I had to embrace the person I am now. It’s scary, terrifying really, but you have your family to help you,” she squeezes your hands. “You have me.” You looked at her, and she had a soft smile.

“Can you stay the night?” You whispered.

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” you stood up to get some clothes to change into. Once she was ready for bed, you climbed under the covers with her next to you. “For what it’s worth,” she broke the silence. “I think you are pretty great.” You bent your arm to rest your head on your hand. She was lying on her back.

“You think I’m pretty, superhero,” she rolled her eyes and mirrored the way you were laying.

“What if I did?” You raised your eyebrows in question. “I think you are pretty.”

“Oh,” you squeaked and cringed at the nose that escaped. “Scars and all?” You questioned.

“They are kind of badass,” she said. “Makes you all hot with the ladies.” She wiggled her eyebrows. You chuckled and pushed the girl on her shoulder. She fell onto her back.

“You are such a flirt.” You said.

“Just for you, khobsurat,” you titled your head at the foreign word. “It’s Urdu.”

“What does it mean?” You questioned. Kamala faced you.

“Beautiful.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted. You were never in a normal relationship. Everyone wanted something from you. Everyone tried to hurt you. “I’ve been hurt by so many people that promised not to.” Your biological parents used you to get money. Jason promised to love you. Principal Cook and Coach Griffo were hired to protect students. They all hurt you.

“I can’t promise I won’t mess things up because I’m an idiot,” you smiled. “I can be aggressively passionate, overwhelming, and loud, but I will never hurt you like they hurt you.” You nodded, looking down at the shapes on your blanket. “You don’t believe me.” You wanted to. You tried to jump head first, but you weren’t sure if your heart could handle any more heartbreak. It was already bruised, bandaged, and broken.

“I want to. It’s just-”

“Hard?” Kamala guessed. You nodded. “That’s okay. I’m not going anywhere,” she yawned, covering her mouth. “Sorry, that was rude.”

“Get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” She nodded and closed her eyes.

“Night, khobsurat,” she whispered. Was it weird that you watched her fall asleep? Maybe. But you liked how peaceful she looked. You weren’t sure when the last peaceful night of sleep you had. You were a little jealous. Sighing, you turned to your side and hoped for a nightmare-free sleep.

*

The sound of thundering footsteps woke you up. It was your only warning before your door opened, the force almost falling off the handles. “Breakfast - hey, what are you doing here, Kamala?” You heard the girl behind you groan. Sometime in the middle of the night, you gravitated towards each other. Her arm is secured around your waist. It wasn’t an uncomfortable position. You only allowed your parents and sometimes your brothers to cuddle you.

“Not sleeping,” she mumbled. Her breath caused goosebumps on your skin. That was uncomfortable. Your mind flashed back to every time someone held you down, breathing against your neck. You tensed up. “Hey, are you okay?” You shook your head.

“Mom!” Billy yelled. “Y/n has a friend over that she didn’t ask permission ,and she’s having a panic attack.”

“Billy,” you hissed, but your brother ran off. Kamala removed her arm and created some healthy distance between you and her. You needed some space, not your brother getting Natasha and announcing you were having a panic attack, which you weren’t. Now, the hurried footsteps were from the Black Widow.

“Is she going to kill me?” You heard Kamala whisper as Natasha slowed down. That was a great question you weren’t 100% sure about.

“Kamala, what the hell are you doing here?” She asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be in space?”

“Well, you see, Mrs. Romanoff,” Kamala said slowly. “I requested to leave my mission early because she seemed upset.” Your head whipped around to look at her.

“You told me your mission was almost over, and Carol didn’t need you anyone.” Her eyes widened, frantically looking between you and the Russian.

“I did say that, didn’t I? It was a white lie,” she said. “I knew if I told you the truth, you would make me go back, and you sounded so sad on the phone,” she held up her hands, almost to defend herself. “Carol knows the truth, and she approved it. I couldn’t lie to her,” she pointed to Natasha. “She scares me more than you,” she whispered. Her comment made you laugh, but you were still angry at her even though her heart was in the right place. Natasha scuffed.

“I scare you now. Is that so?” You looked at your mom. Her arms were crossed, and she was leaning against the doorway.

“No, ma’am, Mrs. Black Widow, sir.” You laughed so hard that you snorted, which sent Kamala into a fit of laughter. Natasha had a soft smile on her face.

“Breakfast is ready, girls. Come on,”

“Thanks, Mom,” the Black Widow nodded and walked back towards the direction of the kitchen, not bothering to close the door. Kamala let out a shaky breath and slumped back into the mattress. “I can’t believe you lied to me.” You pinched her side, and the girl yelped.

“It was for a good reason,” you rolled your eyes. “Are you telling me if I told you the truth, you’d let me stay?” There was no good reason you had. “Exactly,” she pinched your side back. “How did you sleep?” She sat up and stretched her arms above her head.

“Good, actually,” your mind was blank; no nightmare woke you up.

“Good,” she climbed out of the bed. “Come on. I’m hungry. Your superhero needs food,” she rubbed her stomach.

“My superhero?” She winked at you.

“I like the sound of that,” she teased and grabbed your hand. You were a little stunned, but you led her to the kitchen, where the rest of your family was. My superhero, you liked the sound of it, too.

*

“I’d like to call Y/n Romanoff-Maximoff as my first witness to the stand,” the prosecutor said your name, and your stomach still dropped. This moment was what you were preparing weeks for. All you had to do was take the stand, tell the truth, and be free. Easy minus facing Principal Cook and the side full of his supporters. But you weren’t alone either. Every Avenger that was not on a mission seemed to be there; even the Bartons made the trip to the city. Still, you felt frozen in your seat. Until you felt a hand on your shoulder squeeze it.

“We are right here, bug,” Natasha whispered. “Eyes on us the entire time.” You nodded and forced yourself to stand up. The prosecutor smiled at you as you passed her and headed for the witness stand. You tried to keep your eyes on your section. Even when the Bible was brought over to you so you could swear the truth and nothing but the truth. But you were curious, so your eyes flickered to his defense team. His lawyer was whispering to him, but Cook was watching you. The man smiled and gave you a little wave. You looked away immediately, eyes scanning your section until you found Kamala. She smiled, and the weight on your chest disappeared. You let out a shaky breath. You could do this. You could do this.

*

“I am so proud of you,” Wanda said for what felt like the 10th time once the trial ended. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you.

“Alright, darling,” Natasha smiled. “Don’t hog her. She’s got other people to thank for coming.” With a sigh, she let you go. You made your way around the large group right outside the courthouse. You thanked everyone for their support and tried to ignore the press taking your picture. Kamala was the last person you went up to. Immediately, you slumped into her arms.

“Hi,” she whispered. “Are you ready to go home?” You nodded against her. She took your hand and led you to your parent’s car. There was no need to say goodbye as everyone was invited to the house for a small party. It was your one request to do after the trial. You wanted everyone close by for a gentle reminder you weren’t alone.

Once again, you found yourself at the fire pit as you watched the party. Kamala sat down next to you and handed you a plate of food. “Are your parents enjoying themselves?” You saw them talking with Natasha and Wanda. They weren’t at the trail; they stayed at the house to set everything up.

“They are. I hope you are ready to hear many stories of when I was a baby,” you smiled and took a bite of your hamburger. “You know Yelena gave me the shovel talk,” your eyes widened. You knew when the Blonde found out you were dating Kamala; it was only a matter of time before the ‘talk’ happened. “It was nothing bad. She did not threaten bodily harm,” you laughed, a little surprised, and sipped your water. “She did make me promise something.”

“Are you going to tell me what that promise was?” Yelena was with the Bartons. Nate was handing on her back with his arms around her neck. She caught you staring and winked at you.

“She told me this has been the happiest she’s seen you,” you looked at the girl next to you. She was looking forward, but you saw her eyes flick to you. It wasn’t the first time you heard that statement. You look happier. Everyone said it in their way. “Is that true? Do you feel happier?” It was a complicated question because there were days you were on cloud nine. Others felt it impossible to move forward. But she made it better.

“Yeah, I am,” you admitted. “So, what promise did you make to her?” She took her free hand in yours.

“Just to keep you happy,” she kissed your cheek. “And you know how much I love making you smile.” You rolled your eyes and felt your body warm up.

“Hey, lovebirds,” you heard Kate yell. “I think you should cool off.” You gasped as the cool water drenched you and Kamala. You ignored Kamala’s laughter and looked at who was responsible: your brother, the Bartons, and Peter.

“Tommy, Billy, I’m going to kill you.”

“Awe, why?” Tommy whined. “It wasn’t just us.” That was true, but you had a free pass to bully them.

“Besides, it was mom’s idea,” your head snapped to look at the Black Widow, who was now with her sister and Laura. She was smirking at you. You narrowed your eyes at her.

“Give me your water gun,” you said to Billy. Your brother looked at you, then Natasha.

“I’ll speak kindly at your funeral, soldier,” he saluted you and handed you the water gun. You placed your now ruined food on Kamala’s plate.

“Khobsurat,” she stood up and grabbed your hand. “Are you sure about this? You have a lot of life to live.”

“Oh my god, guys,” you laughed. “I’ll be fine.” Well, you hopped anyway. Besides, you knew Wanda wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You were secretly her favorite. You pumped the water gun and looked at the Black Widow. She shook her head and mouthed ‘no.’ You winked at her and used your powers to turn invisible. Since the Avengers saved you from Dmitri, you rarely used your powers. Besides the occasional training session Natasha and Wanda put you through. You were grateful for that; what they taught you kept you alive. It felt good to use your powers for fun.

You watched the Black Widow walk over to Wanda and wrap her arms around her waist. She was talking with Maria and Sam. Clever or suicide to use the witch as a shield, but it would not stop you. Carefully, you walked closer to them. “What are you doing, sweetheart?” Wanda asked. Natasha placed her head on her shoulder.

“Can I not love on my beautiful wife?” The witch narrowed her eyes at her.

“Who did you piss off?” You slapped your hand over your mouth to stop the sound of your laughter. Wanda glanced around the yard. “Get off of me.” But Natasha held onto her tighter. “Natalia Alianovna Romanova, I will not be your shield because you messed with our enhanced daughter.” Sam laughed, throwing his head back.

“You got your full government name,” he teased. You are in the dog house.” The Black Widow pouted, but her arms remained locked around Wanda.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ Wanda’s voice echoed in your head. Usually, it would scare you. Now, it was a calming presence when you felt her magic enter your mind.

‘Sorry, mama,’ You appeared behind Natasha and unleashed your water onto her back. Natasha gasped and moved Wanda to take some of it. You stopped immediately but still got her wet. You cringed. “That was not my fault,” you said. The witch sighed.

“I know,” Red Magic took the water gun out of your hands. “Run Romanoff.” The Black Widow’s eyes were filled with fear, and you laughed as she took off towards Tommy, who threw his water gun at her. Yes, you were happier—all thanks to them.

[skywalker1dream]

unknown feelings

note: I wrote 3 parts of this fic, I have been working on this for whole day...and I hope its good ;3 hope you have good day or night...drink water..uff I have to rest my fingers hurt.. oh And there is few charapters United, If I hadn't done that, would have been short fic, like really short

Part one | part two | part three

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm, golden glow over the paddock, Carlos Sainz's eyes fixated on a singular figure amidst the bustling crowd. There you stood, Lando Norris's younger sister, your laughter dancing through the air like a siren's call, drawing Carlos in like a moth to a flame.

From the moment he laid eyes on you, something stirred within Carlos, a possessiveness he couldn't quite explain. you were more than just Lando's sister; you were a treasure he felt compelled to protect, to shield from the world's prying eyes.

Every fiber of his being screamed at him to keep you close, to guard you from anyone who dared to get too near. he found himself watching you with a fervent intensity, his eyes tracing the curve of your smile, the way your hair caught the sunlight, the infectious energy that seemed to radiate from your every pore.

you was like a magnet, drawing him in with an irresistible force that left him feeling both exhilarated and terrified. He knew he had no right to feel this way, knew he was crossing boundaries he shouldn't even be considering, but he couldn't help himself. The mere thought of you slipping away, of someone else claiming your attention, sent a surge of possessiveness coursing through his veins.

"Hey, Carlos, you alright?" Lando's voice cut through the haze of Carlos's thoughts, momentarily snapping him back to reality.

Carlos tore his gaze away from you, his expression a mask of casual indifference as he turned to face his friend. "Yeah, just keeping an eye on your sister."

Lando shot him a knowing look, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "She's a handful, isn't she?"

Carlos forced a laugh, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, but she's cool."

Cool was an understatement, though. you were captivating, a force to be reckoned with, and Carlos couldn't shake the feeling that he was being pulled deeper and deeper into your orbit with each passing moment.

As the evening progressed, Carlos found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you, his every instinct screaming at him to protect you, to shield you from any potential harm. He knew he was treading dangerous waters, knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn't help himself. He was consumed by a possessiveness he couldn't control, a need to claim you as his own, even if it meant risking everything he held dear.

And as he watched you laugh and joke with your friends, a surge of jealousy welled up inside him, threatening to consume him whole. you were his, he told himself, and he would do whatever it took to make sure you knew it.

Lando's Blind Spot

Lando clapped Carlos on the back, oblivious to the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. "I'm glad you're looking out for her, mate. Means a lot to me."

Carlos managed a tight-lipped smile, his mind racing with thoughts of you. "Of course, Lando. She's like family to me."

Little did Lando know, Carlos's definition of family was starting to blur into something much more complicated.

As Lando walked away, Carlos's gaze followed him before flicking back to where you stood, chatting animatedly with your friends. A surge of possessiveness washed over him, and he clenched his fists at his sides, fighting the urge to pull you away from the crowd and keep you all to himself.

But he couldn't do that. He had to respect your space, even if it felt like it was tearing him apart.

Carlos found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you, his eyes following your every move with an intensity that bordered on obsession. your smile lighting up the room in a way that made his heart ache with longing.

He knew he should look away, should give you some semblance of privacy, but he couldn't help himself. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the pull of her magnetic presence.

Eventually, Lando came back over to join him, breaking him out of his reverie. "Hey, mate, you okay? You've been staring at my sister like she's the last piece of cake in the bakery."

Carlos forced a laugh, trying to shake off the intensity of his emotions. "Yeah, sorry about that. Just lost in thought, I guess."

Lando raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. "You sure that's all it is? You seem a bit… I don't know, distracted."

Carlos shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, just tired, I guess. Long day at the track."

But Lando wasn't convinced, his gaze piercing as he studied Carlos intently. "Okay, if you say so. Just remember, she's my sister, mate. Hands off."

Carlos felt a pang of guilt at Lando's words, knowing that he was already crossing boundaries he shouldn't be. But try as he might, he couldn't seem to shake the feeling that he was falling deeper and deeper under the reader's spell, unable to resist the allure of your intoxicating presence.

But he knew he couldn't have her, not like this. She was Lando's sister, off-limits in every sense of the word, and he had to respect that, no matter how much it tore him apart inside. So he forced himself to look away, to focus on anything other than the girl who had captured his heart in ways he couldn't begin to explain.

.......

The sabotaged date

you nervously fiddled with your phone as you waited for your date to arrive, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. you had been looking forward to this night for weeks, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this guy would be different.

Meanwhile, Carlos sat in his car across the street, hidden in the shadows, his heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him ever since you told him about your date. Although he knew he shouldn't interfere, a part of him hoped that this guy would stand you up, giving Carlos a chance to step in and be there for you.

Minutes turned into hours, and Carlos watched with bated breath as the your excitement slowly turned to disappointment. He felt a pang of guilt at the sight of your distress, knowing that he was partially responsible for it, but he couldn't help the surge of exhilaration that filled him as he realized that his plan was working.

As you got up from your table and made your way to the door, Carlos held his breath, praying that she wouldn't see him waiting in his car. He knew he should leave, should give you space, but he couldn't bring himself to move, couldn't tear his eyes away from you as you stepped out into the cool night air.

Just as you reached the sidewalk, Carlos's heart skipped a beat as your eyes met, and he watched as recognition dawned in your eyes. He braced himself for your anger, for your accusations, but to his surprise, all he saw was relief.

"Carlos?" you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper as you made your way towards him, your steps hesitant but determined.

Carlos swallowed hard, his heart racing in his chest as he rolled down the window and leaned towards you, his gaze never leaving yours. "Hey," he said, his voice coming out softer than he had intended.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, her tone a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

Carlos hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He knew he should tell you the truth, should confess that he had been hoping your date would stand you up so he could be there for you, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it, couldn't bear the thought of you rejecting him.

"I, uh, I was just driving by and I saw you," he lied, his voice sounding hollow even to his own ears. "and I thought maybe you could use a ride home."

you furrowed her brow, studying him for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Yeah, that would be nice. Thank you, Carlos."

As you climbed into the car beside him, Carlos couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him, knowing that he was deceiving you, knowing that he was betraying your trust. But as he drove you home in silence, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope, a flicker of something warm and tender stirring in his chest as he realized that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for them.

.....

"What happened? Why didn't he show up?" Carlos asked, his eyes searching her face for answers.

you shrugged, tears welling in your eyes. "I don't know. He just never showed, and I waited for hours."

Carlos's heart clenched at the sight of your tears, and he fought the urge to pull you into his arms and never let you go. "Well, forget about him. Let me take you home and I will make you some pancakes"

...

As he drove in silence, the tension between Carlos and you hung heavy in the air, each lost in your own thoughts.

"Carlos, why are you always so protective of me?" you finally asked, breaking the silence and turning to look at him, your eyes searching his face for answers.

Carlos's grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to find the right words. "Because… because you're important to me, okay? I care about you more than you'll ever know."

your brow furrowed in confusion, but before you could respond, Carlos pulled into your driveway, effectively ending the conversation.

Unraveling Secrets

As he pulled up outside your house, Carlos's heart raced in his chest, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. He knew he had to say something, to address the tension that hung heavy in the air, but the words eluded him, trapped behind a wall of fear and uncertainty.

you made to get out of the car, but Carlos's hand shot out, gripping your wrist gently to stop you. "Wait," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We need to talk."

you turned to look at him, your brow furrowing in confusion. "What is it, Carlos?"

Carlos took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "I need you to know... I need you to understand that... that I care about you, okay?"

your eyes widened in surprise, your heart skipping a beat at his words. "Carlos, I..."

But before you could respond, Carlos's attention was drawn to a figure approaching the car. It was Lando, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern as he neared them.

"Hey, what's going on?" Lando asked, his voice filled with curiosity.

Carlos glanced at you before turning back to Lando, a small smile playing on his lips. "Just catching up with [your name] here. You know how it is."

Lando nodded, a knowing look passing between them. "Yeah, I get it."

you go inside house, Lando turned back to Carlos with a curious expression. "So, what's really going on, mate? You seemed pretty intense back there."

Carlos let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "It's… complicated, Lando. Just some stuff I've been dealing with lately."

Lando nodded, a sympathetic look crossing his face. "I get it. We all have our demons to face. You know I'm here if you need to talk about anything, right?"

Carlos managed a weak smile, grateful for Lando's offer of support. "Yeah, thanks, mate. I appreciate it."

The two friends fell into easy conversation then, the tension from before melting away as they caught up on each other's lives. They talked about everything from their latest race results to their plans for the upcoming season, their bond as friends growing stronger with each passing moment.

The Tempest Rises

The next day, Carlos couldn't shake the unease that lingered in the pit of his stomach. Despite his attempts to distract himself with work, thoughts of you consumed his mind like a relentless storm, each passing moment only serving to intensify his feelings of possessiveness and obsession.

As evening approached, Carlos found himself driving aimlessly through the city streets, his mind filled with tumultuous thoughts. It was then that he spotted them, you and a guy named William, laughing together outside a cafe.

His heart clenched at the sight, a surge of jealousy and possessiveness coursing through his veins. He knew he had no right to feel this way, but he couldn't help it. He had warned William to stay away from you, and yet here he was, flirting with you as if nothing had happened.

Flashback:

Carlos's hands clenched into fists as he confronted William in the parking lot outside your favorite cafe. His voice was low and menacing as he delivered his ultimatum.

"You stay away from her, you hear me?" Carlos growled, his eyes blazing with anger. "If I ever catch you near her again, you'll regret it."

William's eyes widened in fear as he took a step back, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Hey, man, chill out. I was just asking her out for coffee. No harm done, right?"

But Carlos wasn't buying it. He knew William's type, knew the kind of guy he was. And he wasn't about to let him anywhere near you.

"Just stay away from her," Carlos repeated, his voice cold and menacing. "Or else."

End of Flashback.

For a moment, Carlos was frozen in place, his mind racing with fear and uncertainty. What if William had convinced you to give him another chance? What if you had already forgotten about Carlos and moved on?

But then, as if on cue, William's gaze flickered in Carlos's direction, his expression turning to one of fear and apprehension. Carlos felt a surge of satisfaction wash over him at the sight, his fear replaced by a possessive determination to protect what was his.

Without a second thought, Carlos strode over to where you and William stood, his steps purposeful and determined. William's eyes widened in fear as Carlos approached, and he stumbled over his words as he addressed you.

"Uh, hey, [your name], I, uh, I have to go," William stammered, his voice trembling with nervousness. "I'll, uh, I'll see you later."

And with that, he hurried away, leaving you standing there, your gaze flickering between Carlos and the retreating figure of William.

Carlos's heart raced as he approached you, his chest tight with a mix of emotions. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

you nodded, your eyes wide with surprise. "Yeah, I'm fine. What was that all about?"

Carlos hesitated for a moment, his mind racing as he struggled to find the right words. "I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That's all."

you studied him for a moment, your gaze searching his face for any sign of what was really going on. "Carlos, what's going on? You seem… different."

Carlos's heart clenched at your words, a mix of guilt and longing swirling inside him. He wanted to tell you everything, to pour out his feelings and confess the depths of his obsession, but he knew he couldn't. Not yet, anyway.

"I… I'm just worried about you,Cariño," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "That's all."

you nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Well, you don't have to worry about me, Carlos. I can take care of myself."

But even as you spoke the words, Carlos couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of his mind. He knew that as long as you were in his life, he would do whatever it took to protect you, no matter the cost. And if that meant giving in to his possessive and obsessive desires, then so be it.

--------------------to be continued-----------------------

I forgot to add warnings T_T

[allfearstofallto]

Braiding Diluc's Hair - Drabble

You braid Diluc's hair for him once. The man who's usually so punctual has woken up late, stumbling about in a hurry as he tries to do all of his morning tasks. You watch as he scurries about, lounging in your day chair with a book in your hand, you watch as his dark red locks cascade down his face and body, and how he awkwardly has to push them to the sides to try and get anything done in the hectic bustle of the Dawn Winery’s morning routine.

Pity and Diluc are two words that don't go hand in hand for you. Quite honestly, you've felt little for the man since he decided that he wished to steal you away and lock you up, rather than earning your love the proper way. Yet, watching him struggle to do the most basic of tasks, because of his untied hair was almost similar to watching a dog run into walls because its fur has grown over its eyes. It was almost cute in a silly way.

You raised your hand up to Diluc, who could see you through the mirror as he tried to tame his mane, which was more rowdy today than usual. He looked back at you, his smile sheepish and weak. Seldom did you ever call for him, even outright stating once that you'd rather he not speak to you at all.

“Yes, my sweet, summer flame,” he spoke to you, kneeling at your side and pressing a kiss against your hands. Love and admiration were filling his eyes as he looked at you, yet all you could feel in return was disgust.

You didn't respond to his nickname, and rather gestured for him to turn around, which he did so promptly. He'd walk off the side of a mountain if you asked him to do so sweetly enough. With him facing the opposite direction, you took his hair into your hands. Thick and heavy, it smelled of fruits and that distinct ash scent that pyro users could never get rid of. You raked your fingers through his locks to comb them before quickly braiding his hair until it was neatly down his back.

You tapped hsu shoulders twice to indicate that you were done and that he was free to leave, yet he didn't move your side, not for a bit at least. But then he finally stood, without a word which was rare for Diluc who couldn't help, but to proclaim his love to you whenever he got the chance. It didn't bother you that he wasn't speaking, you found it rather pleasant actually, while he continued to dress himself in the mirror you continued your task of lounging and doing absolutely nothing. Looking up just once though, revealed that as he was buttoning his top, he was staring at his neatly done braid with such gentle and loving eyes, you'd think he was looking at an animal, and with a face so red it reminded you of the same flames he used.

[dgrailwar]

Round 9, Day 2 - Alter-Ego vs. Avenger

The air was crisp, the wind brisk, and the atmosphere energizing. The area felt different, not just 'reset' but changed in a way that seemed to make the Servants themselves feel more powerful. As the Alter-Ego skated her way down the path, she noticed something coming her way.

With impeccable speed, a sword slashes downwards. With grace, the Alter-Ego stepped to the side, dodging the flaming blade with precision. Her expression remains neutral, as she stares at her attacker.

"Avenger."

"Good evening."

The Alter-Ego sighed, shaking her head.

"Don't you have any manners? Rushing down to stab a lady like some sort of wild animal."

With a sneer, the Count raised an eyebrow.

"I don't underestimate my opponents, Alter-Ego. Besides, it seems as if you were on the warpath towards my base."

"Oh, you noticed? Fair enough. I guess I'll just take the chance to skewer you here, then. You did just save me an annoyingly long walk."

She raised a bladed leg, as the Avenger raised his sword in turn, each one waiting for the other to make their first mistake- and respond with heavy consequences.

The Boosts are Set...!

Meltryllis: +5%

The Count of Monte Cristo: +3%

SERVANT DETAILS:

Meltryllis (ALTER-EGO)

Melt Virus (EX Rank) - When engaged in a Free-for-All, inflict all foes with a -3% demerit. If Meltryllis gains 1st place in the Free-for-All by a margin of 10% or more, inflict a -3% demerit to your foes for their next round and gain a +3% boost for your next combat round.

Crime Ballet (A Rank) - When engaged in a one-on-one, increase the Alter-Ego Class Trait one-on-one boost to +5% rather than +3% (+6% if targeting a Servant that's Playing Defensively).

Saint Graph Expansion (B Rank): When engaged in a Free-for-All, gain a +2% boost. Additionally, if Alter-Ego finds herself in a tie against an opponent in a one-on-one (according to the final results, including boosts), her opponent takes a wound and a -2% demerit while she fully escapes damage and gains a +2% bonus for the next round.

Class-Trait:

ALTEREGO-CLASS Servants fight at their best when given a specific target. When engaged in a standard one-on-one confrontation, they gain a +3% boost. If attacking a Servant 'Playing Defensively', they gain a +4% boost instead.

The Count of Monte Cristo (AVENGER)

Determination of Steel (EX Rank) - If Avenger is about to take a fatal wound, if there's at least a 3% difference in their score and the victor above him, he may avoid damage. When facing a single-target (1-on-1), he will gain a +3% boost.

Monte Cristo Mythologie: The King of the Cavern (C Rank) - When battling enemies, his flames are like a poison. He reduces demerits against him by 3%, and when he is victorious against another, he inflicts a -2% demerit for their next round. This demerit increases by 2% by every 10% difference in scores.

Wisdom of Predicament (A Rank) - When engaged in a Free-for-All, gain a +3% boost. Additionally, if Avenger earns last place, both the victor and the 2nd place Servant gain a -2% demerit, rather than simply the 2nd place Servant.

Class-Traits:

AVENGER-CLASS Servants are vengeful by nature. The first time they are defeated by a Servant, they gain an automatic +2% bonus against that specific Servant, without needing to study them (but can in order to increase the bonus). They gain a permanent +3% bonus per wound they attain that will remain if the wound remains, but will disappear if the wound is healed.

[sleepystarsong]

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚ ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦‧˚₊

Synopsis: Takes place between the scene switch in Zayne’s Heart String Healer tender moment. Zayne x Reader

Rated: Somewhat smutty & highly playful.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚ ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦‧˚₊

The students have yet to leave.

Their litany of hopeful outcomes with the esteemed Doctor Zayne fill the charged silence you flounder in.

You back away until Zayne’s face is no longer a smear of color, but a properly smoldering face.

Attempting to cool the mingling flames, you say, “well doctor Zanye, aren’t you curious how it tastes?”

He smirks, small by most standards, lips uneven under the crook of his nose. “Will Physician Quack tattle of I say no?”

You scoff. “I may be a quack, but even I know about patient confidentiality.”

Ah,” Zayne hums into your scalp, lips a sudden burst of affection. “Then I trust your professionalism during my appointment.”

Large hands guide skilled fingers to ease under your shirt and tease your bare sides.

“You trust too easily.” Your voice is a shaky breath, the stethoscope clattering to your lap, then to the floor.

Stiffening as the chatter outside hushes, you become more aware of where you are and what you’re doing just a door away from Zayne’s adoring public.

“No,” Zayne whispers against your brow, a blur once more, “I’m quite cautious. I cannot let you leave without signing a confidentiality agreement, for example.”

A sweet line of kisses trailed down your brow, then cheek. “With what pen,” you gasp as the gentle pressure circling your back catches at your bra strap, deft fingers unclasping without struggle as the students giggle by the door.

Your heart beats beyond the pace Zayne’s had moments before, embarrassed yet unable to flee from such a willing patient.

“How heartless, Doctor Quack. Shouldn’t you care for your ailing patient first?”

Zayne slides you fully into his lap, the cups of your bra loose and pressing against his chest.

“You seem rather lively,” you whisper. “I’ll check your temperature to make sure, though.”

Teasing and light, you rock above him, enjoying the hard line of his desire growing hotter underneath you.

You repeat the movement when he attempts to respond and he presses you firm and still. Despite his enflamed stare, Zayne’s tone is as light as yours , “then by all means, doctor.”

“Hmm,” you say, emphasizing your false pondering with a tapping finger to the chin. “I need a thermometer.”

Soon you’re brushing the seam of his lips and he obliges, allowing you to angle his chin up for a better look at his open mouth.

“Shall I suggest a suitable improvisation,” Zayne says, tongue darting to wet your thumb. “From one doctor to another?”

With a shake of your head you pinch his bottom lip. “No need. I already have the perfect substitute.”

Your mouth melts against his, flame against flame, tongue sweeping underneath his to take in the damp heat.

Of their own accord, your hips grind down once more, this time harsh and needy. You end the temperature check with a nibble to Zayne’s bottom lip.

The flickering hazel of his eyes and flush creeping down his neck illicit a fierce shiver down your back.

Or perhaps it’s the tickle of his fingers sweeping your spine, separating to grab hold of your hips once more.

“Well? Will I live, in your horribly unprofessional opinion?”

Cradling Zayne’s face, kissing the bridge of his nose, and relaxing as the conversation outside fans away and fades, you smile.

“It’s pretty dire,” you say. “We’ll have to take immediate action.”

“So that’s your prognosis.”

With patient precision, his belt comes undone under your touch. Then the buttons of his shirt. You rip the topmost button with a mischievous flourish.

“How do you feel about hospital gowns, Doctor Zayne?”

His pant is shallow and sharp as you take the firm weight of his desire into one hand, stroking up with a firm grip.

“Your bedside manner is improving, but I’m still wary.”

Wrist twisting as your stroke again, you tsk, “don’t be scared. This is the treatment plan you suggested, remember?”

Zayne’s answer is to unbutton your jeans and slide them down your thighs after helping to lift your hips.

“Then you won’t mind if I help myself to something sweet, since you’re forcing the patient to treat himself.”

Your back is against Zayne’s desk, jeans stuck around your calves as he ducks between them, nibbling down your thighs.

Flame to flame, indeed.

[partycatty]

i’m cranking these out like it’s a full time job

can we get some fluff w johnny where we steal his shirt and he just finds it’s the cutest thing how we practically drown in it

love youuu 💙💙

hehe i wuv him sm

johnny cage > rain

notes: i may not be a skinny queen but swimming in one of his shirts would actually cure me of all ailments forever,.,.., WHY ISNT HE REAL!!!!!!!!! @spacepl4ant

[ masterlist ]

• you and johnny had grown attached since meeting at wu shi academy. sure, you knew about his existence because he's a celebrity, but you had gotten to know johnny as a person as well as his screen persona... not that there was much of a difference.

• regardless, tuesdays were "train til you drop" days, oftentimes fighting or practicing routines for literal hours until you couldn't feel your limbs. everyone dreaded it but knew deep down it was necessary. this particular tuesday just so happened to be raining like crazy.

• you and the boys sparred and swung attacks at each other until the sun set, everyone drenched in sweat and rainwater. you all sat underneath a dense tree. kung lao shook the water from his hair, raiden was wringing out his shirt, kenshi didn't seem to mind too much and johnny was... well, using the rainwater as some kind of strange gel as he slicked his hair back.

• "talk about training your ass off," he groans, stretching his arms. "i can't feel a single part of me." you jab his side, making him whine and swat at you.

• "you complain too much," you wring your hair out onto the grass. "that being said, i'm cold and hungry and tired and i wanna go back to the dorms so i can change."

• "i like your thinking," johnny waves off the group and the two of you skip down the gravel path to the students' sleeping quarters, where your separated but loosely divided rooms held what little items you were allowed to bring with you. it was a common practice to walk around campus together, sometimes even arm in arm as you playfully waltzed down the paths. the other boys gave you a lot of trouble for it, whining about the married couple you pretend to be. neither of you stood up to defend yourselves. if anything, johnny found it a nice idea.

• in truth, you drove him wild. he just split from his ex-wife, someone that wanted to place roots down and slow down in life. but you, you were spontaneous, fun loving, and an absolute firecracker. you set his heart going, and he couldn't help but harbor a little crush on you. he couldn't tell you that, not now anyway, with the tournament coming up he knew better than to put an extra weight on you.

• "earth to superstar—" you groan, waving your hand in his face and shaking him of his thoughts. he hadn't even noticed the two of you were already at your sleeping place, and how you're now half dressed in your undershirt and shorts. "just checked my stuff. i don't have anything clean or decent. guess i'll just be soggy for dinner."

• johnny can't seem to focus when you're in a damp tank top. "bummer."

• you frown. "this is when you offer one of yours."

• his eyes are distant. "my what?"

• "jesus, cage, what's gotten into you?" you playfully punch at his chest, which does little to affect his stance, and slide the door open to his own bed arrangement. bending over and shuffling through his obnoxiously nice luggage bags, you find one of his dress shirts. it's a fiery red with small flame patterns.

• "i didn't say you could go through my stuff," he warns you in a teasing tone, head hovering over your shoulder. "you might find something you won't like in there."

• "please," you puff as you flick the shirt of its wrinkles. "i've seen a few rose toys in my day." he chuckled, turning away for a moment.

• he gives you the decency to change by staring into the corner, shamefully dreaming of what you may look like without anything on. he shakes the thought violently as you let out a sigh of contention with the shirt.

• "i get that you're a big guy, but lord," you mutter, tugging and shifting the shirt on your body. "you're bigger than i thought."

• "that's what sh—" johnny turns around with a smirk that quickly drops to the floor. you were wiggling about trying to make the shirt look like your own, but johnny was just so pleased with how it sat on you as it was. his shoulders were broader, leaving the shirt to swim around your own and expose a good deal of your collarbone. his waist was small, giving you some grace by hugging your hips almost as if it was your own top. in that split moment, johnny ponders if the "you're so hot i got a nosebleed" trope was real, wiping the bottom of his nose.

• "suits you," he pulls himself together abruptly with his award-winning grin, patting your shoulder and careful to avoid making contact with your skin, as badly as he wanted to feel your warmth. "after all this, come by my place and i'll get your own wardrobe after my style, how's that?"

• you scoff with your hands on your hips, shifting your weight to one leg. johnny fights the physical stutter at your chest creeping out of the top. "mister playboy here giving out charities to us poor folk. you don't have to do that, really."

• his voice is deadly serious. "i want to."

• "you're an odd one," you point a finger, sitting onto his bed with crossed legs. you fall silent observing his thousand yard stare, how glassy his gaze seems to be when it falls on you. "why do you look at me like that?"

• "like what?" his mouth is dry, eyes fixated on yours.

• "like you wanna kiss me all the damn time," your answer is teasing, not entirely serious but you don't miss the twitch in his lip at your statement.

• "and if i do?" he's testing the waters, something about you in his clothes is making him more bold than he swore to be.

• his answer makes your heart flutter, not expecting a direct comment like that. it changed the air of the room, and you suddenly feel a little more suffocated and insecure under his analytical stare. "why don't you?"

• "because i'm worried i'll want more."

[brittle-doughie]

Hi uh so this is the third time that I've sent this ask and uh, sorry for appearing so frequently and seemingly impatient so uh yea. Ok so hi! I'm CCCC Anon, i'm back and uh sorry for the wall of text from my previous ask.

Ok so basically, it's been a few weeks after the incident (The one where Y/n splits themselves into three sides) and like, the three sides are currently trying to not argue with eachother, Specifically the logical and the emotional sides.

They are all on a couch just sitting in pure silence but then a there's a knock on the door and before any of them get up to answer it Crowned cupcake and royal icing cookie just straight up burst through the door, much to y/n's logical side's annoyance.

Surprise suprise, they found out about y/n's predicament aswell (Probably forced Alchemist cookie to tell them, that poor girl). They try to, well, for some reason to bring them back at their place, proclaiming that they would do a better job at making them whole (turning back into y/n) than the ancients, dragons, legendaries and beasts.

Unfortunately for them, they are VERY well aware of their obsession with y/n.

With this in mind they struggle and fail to convince the three halves to join them and this pretty much becomes a heated argument between the three y/n's and the oh so very obsessive siblings, this would then lead to the house being surrounded by cookies due to the commotion.

Almond, who was walking by had heard and saw the said comotion and enters the house to intervene and sees the three halves of y/n. This was a shocker to both Almond and the crowd of cookies as only Alchemist, Crowned cupcake, Royal icing and the cookies back from the previous ask I sent were the only ones that knew about this.

Almond cookie tries to calm things down but unfortunately Crowned cupcake cookie had other plans and thus tries to straight up stab the detective.

Almond cookie who was expecting to get hit was met with nothing as it turns out y/n's logical side had intervined. Almond cookie was about to ask if they were alright but found that there was not a single wound on them and Crowned cupcake cookie sword's blade is seen on the floor seemingly broken from the handle.

It turns out that this half of y/n wasn't made of strong, surgary sweets no, the logical side is almost all artificial and machinery with the face under said machinery that's hidden from everyone being the only thing that makes them a cookie at all. Infact they are made up of many strong metals instead, so it would be logical that the sword would break on impact.

Everyone was rightfully shock at this as I think that they don't know about these materials at all. Before anyone could react Royal icing cookie was blasted out of the house with an electric bolt from the logical side with the other two are preparing and expecting a fight.

The emotional side, although blinded, can still put up a fight as stated from my previous ask both the logical and emotional sides had arguments escalate into physical fights, this leads to them packing more power in their hits than a regular cookie.

The Instinctual side on the other hand, now has a mask covering their face and is now holding a trident on one hand and an unnatural bright red flame on the other. They act more violently than the other two and is the strongest of the three halves, they are currently trying their hardest not to go after Crowned cupcake cookie as they are very well aware that their uncontrolled strength can crumble her in an instant (mainly because the floor would become covered with jam).

Almond (somehow) successfully calms y/n's three halves to calm down and assures them that the two will be dealt with (spoiler alert the siblings infact somehow got away unscathed with the help of their parents). The logical side tells him harshly that next time when another cookie or more tries to do anything that's deemed harmful, they will be dealt with one way or another.

outside of y/n's house is Alchemist cookie who heard and saw everything and informs the ancients, legendaries, dragons, and beasts, (gurl how'd you inform any of them??) and each now have different reactions to the fact that they fight together temporarily only to go back hating eachother once the deemed threat is gone, especially that their durability and strength is much more stronger than the average cookie.

P.S I'm so sorry for how long this ask is Brittle, Sincerely- CCCC Anon

Some of them would be glad that the three parts of you can work together and be united as if you weren’t split into three at all. Yeah, the three parts did eventually go back to being their selves, but it was progress.

Others found some enjoyment that the three parts can just decide to attack as if it was a sort of hive mind link between the three. They might want so more enjoyment out of this news before the three can converge back to one.

And another portion would probably see this as more reason to put you back into one if all three aspects of you act too similarly to certain events. It was only the little things that made each of the three unique, but it all went back to the same old Y/N Cookie.

[shadowdaddies]

I’m in desperate need of more ACOTAR x male! Reader. I’m a pretty newly out trans dude and the lack of x m!reader content is criminal. I lovedddd your Eris x quiet male reader, but I would love to see more!!! Maybe with a louder/vocal reader?

hi! thanks for your patience with this request, I've been a bit slow getting to them lately but I hope this is worth the wait❤️‍🔥

Echoes in Autumn

Eris x m!Reader smut

Warnings: smut below the cut, light bondage (fire play)

Taking a small sip from the chalice in your hand, you surveyed the room of nobility before you. Lord and Ladies danced, drank, and droned on in conversation about trivial matters which they held in the highest esteem.

Fighting the scowl that played on your features, you scanned the space in search of the one person you were there to see when a familiar firm hand ran lightly across your backside. 

You gasped, eyes wide as you turned meet Eris’s amber gaze. A dark chuckle left his lips. “So reactive, as always,” he purred with a wicked smirk before turning to look out over the room of people. 

“It is terribly boring here, isn’t it?” he sighed, swirling the burgundy liquid in his own glass with a grimace. 

“I don’t know why I bother coming to these events,” you lied, praying to the Mother he wouldn’t notice how your face flushed as you stood so close to the only reason you came tonight.

Eris was perceptive as ever though, eyes glittering with mischief as they burned into the side of your face. “There are far more interesting places in the Forest House,” he mused, arching a questioning brow as he turned toward the ballroom doors. 

Setting your drink down on a nearby table, you followed the swift-moving flash of dark red hair as Eris’s long legs carried him out the doors. The moment the wood clicked shut behind you, Eris’s hand moved down once more to your ass.

Pulling your body flush against his own, his free hand wound it’s way under your waist coat, warmth gripping your ribcage in desperate attempt to get as close as possible. Heat spread through your body, as though his flame was spreading through you like wildfire. 

Lips crashed to yours, hungry and searching. Eris’s tongue slid along your mouth in silent request, a hand brought down sharply on your ass when you didn’t comply. Your breathy moan granted him the access he craved, the taste of cinnamon overwhelming your senses as Eris’s tongue danced with yours.

Hips ground against each other, his hard length rubbing your own with delicious friction. Groaning into his mouth, you pulled back to catch your breath and were met with Eris’s wild eyes and mussed hair. “My room, now,” he growled, taking your hand in his to guide you down the long hallway.

Unlocking the door to his bedroom, Eris pulled you inside and in one fluid motion, whirled you around behind him. Back against the door, you were hypnotized watching the outline of the Autumn heir’s toned form in the dim faelight, the way his hair caught the glow like a soft flame. 

The lock clicked in place behind you, snapping you from your daze just as Eris began to pull frantically at your coat and shirt. Bare chested, you bit down a moan at the feeling of Eris’s lips trailing down your neck to the exposed skin of your chest.

Your own hands fumbled for his shirt, tugging at the buttons of the tunic with such fervor several of them clattered to the ground. Eris pulled back, looking to his ruined shirt and letting out a low laugh. 

“Eager, are we?” he purred, but you couldn’t be embarrassed when you saw the same hunger in his own eyes. Lips found yours once more, this time slower, as though he remembered he wanted to savor this moment.

Eris drew one finger down your torso, sending shivers down your spine. With a playful tug at the hem of your pants, lips moved to trail along your jaw, down to your neck. 

Just as he reached the soft spot on your throat he knew would send you reeling, his hand dipped into your trousers, wrapping around your hard length. Head slamming back against the door, you brought a hand to your mouth to stifle your lewd moan as you jerked into his hand.

“No,” Eris huffed, lips pulling away from where they’d sucked bruising marks on your neck. Flames wrapped around your wrists, pulling them taut over your head. “I want to hear every pleasurable sound I wring from you tonight.”

Cheeks warm and flushed, you nodded vigorously under his gaze. “Good,” he purred, cocky demeanor back to play as you felt your remaining scraps of clothing burn away to ash. 

Eris knelt down before you, whiskey-colored eyes looking up through long lashes as he licked your length from base to tip. “Fuck, Eris,” you moaned, eyes rolling back with pleasure. Pumping slowly, torturously, up and down your cock, Eris licked the sensitive vein, sucking on the tip, edging you until you were a babbling mess.

“Eris, please,” you pleaded in a whine, “I want you to take me.” Eris’s cock twitched in his pants at your words, the cuffs of flame releasing you in favor of Eris walking you back towards the massive four-poster bed, lips never leaving yours.

“Lay back,” he directed with a nod, hands working to remove his own pants. You crawled to the center of the bed, back arched to show off the ass you knew he loved. Eris smirked appreciatively, crawling behind you on the mattress. 

Hands slid up the backs of your thighs, stopping to squeeze the flesh of your ass as you heard a needy groan from behind you. “So good for me,” Eris murmured, emanating heat against your backside when you felt a cool liquid drip over your tight hole. 

Slowly, Eris pushed one finger inside of you, both of your groans echoing through the room as he pumped and curled, working you open for him. As nimble fingers brushed that most sensitive spot, you collapsed into the pillows, muscles contracting while you tried to muffle the lewd sounds that left you with no control.

Suddenly, Eris’s hand was withdrawn, the absence of his touch leaving you cold. “I told you not to hide those noises from me,” he warned before effortlessly flipping you onto your back.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” the heir questioned, brow arched as he stared down at you through a curtain of flaming hair. 

“Yes, Eris,” you pleaded, still breathless from the pleasure that had been ripped from you moments prior. “Please touch me.” You reached toward him with your hands, only to find them pinned once again in circles of flame.

“Good boy,” he cooed, hiking your legs to your chest. The tip of his cock prodded at your entrance, and he smirked. “Let’s hear it, then.”

With a single thrust, Eris’s cock stretched you out, impossibly full when you felt his head brushing your walls perfectly. You knew you wouldn’t last long as he started moving, each thrust calculated and precise to drive you over the edge. It was almost frightening how well he knew your body, how he played you like an instrument for his own pleasure while you laid there, a helpless, moaning mess.

“Eris,” you gasped, voice hoarse from screaming when your wide eyes found his to tell him you were close. “Together,” he grunted, movements growing faster as you felt delicious warmth pulsing along your cock. 

Looking down, you found those tendrils of flame working your length in tandem with Eris’s thrusts, the overstimulation sending your into your orgasm almost instantly. 

Your release splattered all over your chest, Eris’s filling you up before slowly pulling out. Still catching your breath, you looked down to see Eris, tired and watching you with pure adoration.

“How do you feel?” he asked, hands gently rubbing the inside of your thighs as he lowered them to the mattress. 

A small bubble of a laugh escaped you at the ridiculous question. “I think the entire Forest House could attest to just how good I feel.”

A soft smile graced Eris’s lips, caramel eyes flicking to the mess on your stomach as hunger filled his gaze once more. “Stay still,” he mumbled, tongue already on your skin as he licked you clean, sliding up your body as he did so.

Elbows rested on either side of your head, Eris dipping his mouth to yours for one last languid, slow kiss before settling into bed next to you. 

“Eris?” you whispered, heart thumping at his soft sound of question. “You are the only reason I look forward to these events,” you admitted softly. 

Those soft lips pressed to your temple, arm snaking around your waist as your limbs tangled and bodies melded into one. “And I you.”

[abarbaricyalp]

hey <33 🍜 and/or 🤗 for the sambucky ask game please and thank you

🍜 Sick Day 🤗 Cuddling These were so cute together, I did both! Thanks for sending in a prompt!

"You look terrible," Bucky greeted as he set down two giant to-go containers of soup from Mrs. Bray down the street.

Sam was wrapped up in his mama's old quilt on the couch, staring straight ahead, ashen and sweaty and a few days past a shower. He ended his staring contest with the wall and all the swimming colors that weren't actually moving so that he could glare at Bucky instead. "I'd ask if you were a hallucination, but I assume you appear to gloat no matter where you're stationed."

Bucky rolled his eyes and handed Sam a bottle of Ginger Ale. "Drink this while I go get a wet rag. You should take off that blanket."

"I'm freezing," Sam insisted. He did take the soda at least. Waited until Bucky wasn't in front of him to open it and down half of it in one go. "Why are you here?" he called without turning to look at whatever Bucky was digging through in the kitchen.

"My name is still on the deed, Wilson," Bucky pointed out. Then he was kissing Sam's temple after appearing from nowhere. He used Sam's distraction to take his temperature by pressing the back of his hand to Sam's cheek. "You're burning up. You really need to take off the blanket."

"I'm freezing," Sam repeated. He wasn't sure how to be any clearer. His hands were so cold and he was shivering so badly that he didn't think he could let go of the blanket anyway.

Bucky ran the cool, wet rag in his hand over Sam's face and down his neck. Sam would not admit that it felt really nice. When Bucky left it wrapped around the back of his neck, he reached up to move it to his forehead again. Bucky was opening the windows and the fresh air was so vastly different than the stuffy air of the house, Sam almost got sick all over again.

Reluctantly, he shrugged the blanket off and let it pool against the crevice of the back of the couch. He wanted it within grabbing distance. "Aren't you supposed to be, like, in Germany or something?"

"New York," Bucky corrected. He sat beside Sam and felt like a damn furnace. Where his thigh pressed along Sam's was like an open flame. Sam put his hands there. He'd snicker at the way Bucky jolted towards him if he had the energy to. Bucky kept his hands to himself though and got the soup containers open. He'd gotten spoons at some point and set one aside, settling back against the couch with one spoon and one soup.

"It's not toast water is it?" Sam asked warily.

"How do you know about toast water?" Bucky asked in amusement. "Been reading up on how I used to live or something?"

"My grandma was old too. You're not the only geriatric around me."

Bucky rolled his eyes fondly. "No, it's not toast water. It's bone broth. You need to replenish your electrolytes and get some protein in you."

"I hate bone broth," Sam resisted like a child. "I'm not hungry. I just wanna go back to sleep."

"Mrs. Bray sent you dumplings too," Bucky tempted. "If you eat some of this, we'll split the dumplings. Otherwise, I'm just gonna eat them myself."

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked again. "Why are you talking to the neighbors?"

"You passed out on a plane," Bucky said. "Did you think no one was gonna tell me about it?"

Sam shrugged. He took the spoon because he could feed his own damn self, but he let Bucky keep holding the tub of soup. His wrists hurt just looking at it. "It's just a bug," he mumbled.

"You passed out," Bucky repeated, stressed each word like it was the end of the world.

"I might have ignored it for a while," Sam admitted. No use hiding it now that the effects were out in the world.

"Sam," Bucky groaned.

Sam took several quick spoonfuls of the soup to avoid answering. "They already think I'm not strong enough to do it," he admitted after a few seconds of just soupy noises. Talk about something to turn his stomach over. He kept his eyes on the side of the container instead of looking up at Bucky. "I couldn't just drop out of a fight or divert a speech or cancel an event because my stomach hurt."

And now everything hurt and everything was tired and he still couldn't make the wall stop zooming in and out of his depth perception.

"Sweetheart," Bucky sighed. He set aside the soup, which was half empty, Sam was surprised to find, and took the spoon as well before he scooped Sam into his arms and laid back against their couch.

Sam went with him because he wouldn't have much of a choice with Bucky's arms around him when he was at full health, much less like this. He was always the weakest around Bucky. Instead, he just turned his face against Bucky's neck and drew in a stuttering breath. He'd missed this, even if he wasn't going to say that out loud. He put his arms around Bucky's midsection, though he couldn't get his hands beneath Bucky's back to really hold him close. Keep him from slipping off into the sunset, onto a jet to a secret group and secret mission without a phone and no way for Sam to get ahold of him. No cameras. No media. No updates. No chance for Sam to see his face.

"It's your fault," he mumbled against Bucky's collarbone. Bucky hummed and it vibrated Sam's skull and his aching brain. "I was too stressed out about you leaving. Fucked up my immune system. It does that, y'know. Stress."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed to some part of Sam's babbling. "I know. But now you don't have an excuse, so just go to sleep and get to feeling better."

"Maybe I don't wanna sleep here. Gonna get you sick," Sam argued, even though there was no force in the world that would get him up now.

"You're not gonna get me sick," Bucky snorted softly. "We could swap spit and not get me sick."

"We're not swapping spit until you apologize," Sam warned. Mostly. Bucky's hands started to rub over all of the sore, tight spots on Sam's back, so he lost his voice halfway through the sentence.

"Sorry for stressing you out until you got sick. Now you know what it feels like," he couldn't help but jabbing.

Sam rolled his eyes and Bucky sighed at the feeling of Sam's eyelashes against his skin. "I meant for leaving."

"Wasn't exactly my choice," Bucky muttered. And the venom in his voice made Sam believe him well enough.

"They were holding your pardon over your head, I guess," Sam mumbled.

Bucky was quiet, which wasn't uncharacteristic except that it was just the two of them, which did make it uncharacteristic because the only time Bucky wasn't chattering his ear off was when he was staring at Sam all dopey eyed. Sam didn't figure there was a lot of dopey eyes currently.

"What?" he asked, lifting his head with all the strength that it took to lift a couple of busses over his head too. "It wasn't about the pardon? You left for some other reason? Did you do something else?"

"No," Bucky snapped. His fingers hadn't stopped massaging Sam's muscles, but he was just getting tenser beneath Bucky's touch. Bucky's eyes softened a little again. "It wasn't my pardon. It was yours."

Sam went lightheaded for the umpteenth time over the last several days, but this one was different. Far more painful. "What?"

"Sam, you gotta know no one can hurt me by holding a gun to my head," he mumbled. Somehow, his eyes hadn't darted away from Sam's face. Sam would've looked away by now. But Bucky's stare was as intense as it ever was. "But you? You're my soft, vulnerable spot. My ribs pried away to expose my heart. I can't protect you any way except to put myself between the danger and you. They point a gun at you and I'm gonna step in front of it."

There was a fire burning through Sam's chest and racing along his soul and all the places it stretched to his in body, dragging fury along with it. But exhaustion chased right after, singeing the flickering flames. "They were gonna arrest Captain America if you didn't join their team?" he asked.

"It sounds stupid when you say it. It's not just about the pardon, Sam. It's everything. They know if they hold their thumb over a button with your name, I'll do whatever they want. I've got... I've got to protect you."

The exhaustion collapsed over the fury like a wave. Sam sagged against Bucky's chest. "I didn't ask you do to that."

"You didn't ask me to love you either. It just comes naturally," Bucky murmured. His brought his hand up to the back of Sam's neck, massaging there gently. It just about took Sam out.

"I'm gonna burn them to the ground," Sam mumbled, drifting off, into a darkness shaped like Bucky's shoulder and spread of hair. "This isn't over. This conversation isn't..."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed, far away. "I know, Sammy. There's dumplings for that part though."

Sam nodded. Well, he thought he did anyway. He was so close to falling asleep. It was just that his fingers were still so cold.

Then they weren't, folded against Bucky's palm, held up against his heartbeat coming through his ribs.

This is mine, he thought as the feeling of a kiss on his hair pushed him finally into sleep. I'm holding onto this forever. No one is taking it from me.

[cookeybg]

Love's Stain

Okay, okay, I know I have my other fic to finish but I just couldn't sleep and get rid of this idea.

Title: Love's Stain

What if Damian was a dragon? What if he became soul bound? I don't think he would like that.... (Another JonDami fic)

Main Characters/pairings: Jon Kent / Damian Al Ghul

Other Characters: Batman, Superman, Nightwing, Robin, Talia Al Ghul, Ra's Al Ghul

Stuff to know: This will be dragon fic so it is not cannon compliant, nudity, blood, magic, it might not be a happy ending? Not too sure yet. As always this is not edited or Beta read

Chapter 1 - Blood on White

The white shell pulsed green illuminating a curled figure within. It pulsed again and the figure stretched, it’s limbs hitting the shell from within. “He will soon be born.” “Father, he will need training.” “He will know how to fight innately.” “We cannot send him yet, his mind will be too easily molded.” A pause. “You are right, after we make him perfect we shall send him. He shall succeed where the others failed.” By the third pulse, cracks formed on the pristine white surface and green liquid dribbled down towards the soft material that kept it upright. With a shatter the figure of a fully formed man oozed out. “Yes, father.”

A loud boom echoed from above, Jon looked up to see fractures and symbols littering the sky. A green hue took over the blue and an eerie sound like bones rattling assaulted his senses. A giant fissure formed and from it stepped a figure of a man with flaming white wings but just as the opening closed a flash of red and black lightning struck him. The figure fell like a comet. A giant crater formed upon impact, incinerating the nearest part of the corn field in the Kent farm. Jon rushed towards it, still holding the pitchfork he had been using. When he arrived he saw a man in white struggling to get up. Jon moved in quickly to help, bet when he grabbed the man’s arm to pull him up an intense wave ran through him unlike anything he had ever felt before. It made him freeze, his muscles tensing while his heart escaped him. The man looked up at him shocked, still kneeling on the ground. He had patches of golden scales where the impact caused abrasions on his face. Dazed green eyes stared back at him and Jon’s heart picked up its already rampant pace. “Jon, stay away from him!” Clark yelled. Jon turned to his father. On instinct he dodged out of the way from a white glint he saw in his periphery. Flying back a few feet away, he clutched at his stinging cheek and to his surprise, blood stained his hand. “You dare touch me?” Snarled the man, his tan skin golden under the the bright Kansas sun, “I am Damian-“ he winced clutching his head with one hand, “I have purpose, a destiny-“ one unfocused green eye glared and he took shaky steps towards Jon. Jon stared at the man named Damian. He stood hunched and dangerous, like a predator. One hand held a white sword with glowing green symbols and the other pressed against the left side of his face. Fiery white wings, that had not been there a second before, flared menacingly. Jon’s heart hadn’t stopped drumming, the man was breathtaking. With a start Jon noticed blood staining the white leather armor he wore. “You’re bleeding-“ Jon started to move forward but a firm hand stopped him from advancing. “Batman’s on his way. We shouldn’t get near.” Clark said grimly, his expression serious. “But, what if he dies while we wait?” Jon asked, his anger rising. What was the point of being super if he couldn’t help when he wanted to? “Jon-“ Before Clark could finish his sentence a cough was heard from Damian. Jon watched as blood gushed out of the man’s mouth, his green eyes losing their glow, he fell onto the blackened earth.

“He looks just like you, B.” “We still need to wait for the results.” “Nightwing’s right, does that mean he’s your kid?” “We won’t know until its done analyzing.” The unconscious man lay in one of the med bay cots. He was strapped down in case he awoke before they could move him into one of the batcave’s holding cells. Jon watched him through the curtains using his x-ray vision, the man’s chest moved up and down. His armor had been removed to prevent him from reaching any hidden weapons, which he had plenty of. Jon tried not to look at his naked form and kept his attention on the man’s beautiful face. The cuts and scrapes he had received from the impact had already healed. “I wonder what his name is?” “It’s Damian,” Jon turned to look at Nightwing, “his name’s Damian. He announced it when he tried to attack me.” “Jon, he did attack you and he did cut you.” Clark frowned at Jon, concern lining his face. “It’s a really cool sword.” Robin said while examining the sword on the table, it was long and bone white. “When he wielded it,” Jon pointed along its length, “it had green symbols. The color similar to kryptonite, but I don’t feel anything strange about it now.” “Neither do I.” Clark affirmed. “He must use a form of magic,” Batman nodded, “the sword is not laced with any form of kryptonite.” Jon’s attention snapped in the direction of the med bay cot when he heard the change in Damian’s breathing indicating that he would soon wake. Batman noticed and ordered Nightwing and Robin to help wheel the man to a holding cell that had magical protections, courtesy of Constantine and Zatanna. They placed him on the new bed with a folded pile of new close he could wear. Once out they activated the runes, red web-like lines appeared in the large window dividing the cell from the room and then disappeared. Jon held his breath in anticipation while Damian stirred from his resting place. Hi eyes opened slowly and just as slowly he moved to sit up, the white blanket slipping of him to land on his lap. His green eyes glowed in the dim enclosure and his shoulders hunched ready to attack any who neared him. Luckily for the onlookers they were safe on the other side of the window. When Damian noticed that they would not approach, he stood, unashamed of his nakedness. He walked the small perimeter of the cell without touching the walls. His green eyes roamed all over but his attention never left his observers. Jon could feel heat rush up his neck, burning his ears, he crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to distract himself. He tried his best to not look below the waist but the attempt was futile as strong thighs and a firm butt showed Damian’s exceptional control of his body. When Damian reached the window and faced them, he snarled, the beginnings of white flamed wings and golden scales started to form but were harshly stopped by black and red flashes. Damian wailed, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to touch his back. He fell to his knees twitching. Jon had rushed forward in concern connecting with the barrier. It shot him back with such force he crashed into the opposite cave wall causing the bats to swarm out of the cave from the reverberation. “Jon!” Clark screamed in surprise. He helped Jon up, but all Jon could see were the glowing, glaring green eyes of Damian, who still knelt hugging himself. Staring directly at him.

[lichfucker]

alt text is not the place for fucking commentary, ESPECIALLY if you don't describe the image at all and ONLY include your commentary.

alt text is not a cheeky aside. it's not a private whisper to your friend.

alt text is an accessibility tool. fucking use it that way.

[praetorqueenreyna]

imagine how much better Nesta's life would be if she didn't sacrifice her power for her ungrateful rat of a sister and her trash mate??? there's a parallel universe where feyre, rhys, and nyx are all dead and nesta is living her best life <3

[heretherebedork]

AND YOU CALLED HIM SELFISH.

YOU CALLED IT RUNNING AWAY.

The first time Do Han finally gathered up the courage to try to protect the people he loved by risking himself, you fucking called him selfish forbid him from doing so.

FUCK YOU.

DO HAN NEVER WANTED ANY OF THIS. HE JUST WANTS TO GIVE LIVE HIS HAPPY GAY LIFE IN NEW YORK FAR AWAY FROM ALL OF YOU. STOP ACTING LIKE YOU'RE DOING THIS FOR HIM.

[bigmammallama5]

tumblr can flag me for fuck all and yet the porn bots still find me. okay.