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rhenuvee · 2 days

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Pretty Privilege [Alhaitham x reader]

A/N: not Alhaitham managing to sneak his way into my drafts for a third time, reader is from Kshahrewar, lovesick!Alhaitham (Alhaitham's a jerk to everyone but you, might be ooc), lowkey could connect to my other Alhaitham fics

Warnings: drinking mentioned but not alcohol, reader gets a little emotional if you squint (not used to affection)

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Your boyfriend Alhaitham was... something else. You were new to the whole relationship thing, so adjusting to the dating life was something you had to get used to. What you still couldn't fathom were the "perks" Alhaitham has granted you, as his partner.

"Alhaitham, what is this?"

His roommate Kaveh stood with his arms crossed, looking at the scene before him: You were sitting on the couch, meticulously making your model of your project due soon. It was clear from your eyes that sleep wanted to overtake you, but of course you couldn't give in. But the worst part was Alhaitham, who was sitting next to you- though it was more like behind you by the way he rested his chin on your shoulder.

Kaveh is all for supporting your relationship, and on a normal day he'd treat you guys like friends (he'd never say that to Alhaitham). But in this situation, there was something particular irritating.

"...what do you mean." Alhaitham asks in a bored manner.

"It is almost midnight and you're still up."

"So?"

"So, you're usually asleep by at least two hours ago."

"And?"

"...You- You'd usually complain about something like this! How many times have you bashed me for working on my projects this late, and now you're here with (y/n) staying up! Nothing against you (y/n), you know I'd understand." Kaveh adds in the last part quickly, seeing as his complaint might seem directed towards the wrong person.

"All good." You reply robotically, yawning right after.

"Remember what you said a few weeks ago about the lows of Kshahrewar? I sure hope you have something to explain that and the spot you're in right now, particularly taking back what you said."

"Mhm, Kshahrewar is the best darshan..." Alhaitham mumbles halfheartedly in a monotone voice, almost nuzzling his head closer into your neck.

"...Somehow I don't feel satisfied with that." Kaveh sighs, arms loosening from their crossed position. It was clear that the Scribe didn't actually mean it, or at least was occupied with other things that made his answer seem insincere. The architect leaves, not finding any solution to the issue.

However, the obvious bias doesn't end here. Something similar happened the next week, except the victim wasn't Kaveh (for once). You were waiting in line at a restaurant near the Akademiya.

It sure gets busy during lunch time... You think. And even busier because of the special gift they were giving away…

"(Y/n)." A familiar voice calls to you. You look up from your daze and realize it's your boyfriend.

"Alhaitham, what are you doing here?" Suddenly, you start to feel pairs of eyes drift to your conversation.

"More like what are you doing here." He replies sharply. You internally giggle at your boyfriend's sassiness, but don't fault him because there is an abnormally long line this time.

"Well... they're giving away a free TCG card with their new sandwich." You say shyly. You feel a sigh coming from him for lining up for a little thing, but...

"Why don't you just ask the owner? I know him." He replies.

"...What do you mean, ask the owner? You mean just go up to the front?" You ask.

"Yes."

"-Alhaitham. I can't just do that, I can't cut in line." You stammer. You can't believe your boyfriend would actually condone this type of behaviour. He shrugs and walks off. You huff, thinking how sometimes you can't read him.

A few minutes later, you see him walk back with... a sandwich and TCG card in hand.

"Alhaitham." You cross your arms and look right at him. However, of course it doesn't intimidate him, as he just stares right back with the same deadpan eyes.

"Yes?"

You walk out of line, quickly pushing him until you both reach a less crowded area. Because you're behind him trying to shove him by his stupidly large torso, he secretly smiles at how cute you are, trying to take control of the situation and how you puff your cheeks out because of it.

"Alhaitham, you did not just go to the front and ask for the sandwich." You say, starting to scold him.

"I got the card too." He says, waving it. You tsk, snatching the sandwich and card out of his hand. He snorts at your slight frustration in his literalness.

"Alhaitham, you didn't have to. I could have waited in line like a normal person." You pout, trying to make him see the bad sides of his actions.

"The owner would have kept one for me anyway. And I wouldn't let you stand outside for so long. Especially with how heavy your bag is- don’t Kshahrewar students carry bricks?" He explains, sitting down on the stone.

"That's not really the problem..." You say, even though that last part was quite true. "Even though the owner kept one aside, the people in line who saw that would have felt really mad at you for cutting."

"Why should I care about what they think?"

"Alhaitham!" Sometimes you hate how quick and blunt his responses are. You sigh again. By now you already knew about your boyfriend's habits and how straightforward he thinks- and most of the time he is right. At least you know he had good intentions.

"Don't do it again, please?" You say, sitting and putting your hands on his chest. "At least not without asking me first."

"Okay, fine." He's willing to make compromises, especially when you look at him so dearly. You eat your sandwich in peace, giving Alhaitham a few bites here and there, and talk about things that happened today.

Buuttttt, it still doesn't end there. A couple months later, the semester ends and you decide to go out and have drinks with your friends. Alhaitham also mentioned he was going to be there with his friends, but he'd be at another table. It's a win-win, plus it's good to have him there for safety.

"And then, he just brushed everyone off! So I don't think I'd ever have a chance with him." Your friend says sadly.

"I don't think anyone has a chance with him." Another chimes in. You and your friends laugh at the wittiness, happy to be enjoying each others presence after a long semester of working and studying.

"I've seen him carry an anemo vision." You say from passing by him a few times.

"I've seen that too!" Your friend remarks, and the rest nod along. "He's probably very strong."

"I hope you guys have been enjoying your night!" A waiter says as he comes to the table. "Here are your bills."

The waiter hands your friends their bills, but doesn't hand you one.

"Excuse me! You didn't give me mine." You say quickly, before he leaves again.

"Oh! Your boyfriend has already paid for yours." The waiter says, pointing to his table, then heading off. Your friends coo at how sweet you guys were, and suddenly you have a sense of deja vu. After your friends pay their bills for the night, you immediately walk over to Alhaitham's table.

"Alhaitham."

"Yes?" Once again, you're hating how deadpan he sounds when you know he knows what you're about to say.

"You didn't have to."

"I did." You frown again.

"I'll be outside, saying bye to my friends." You say after sighing. Alhaitham nods, and his friends can only smile when they see another occurrence of him spoiling you.

"Why is it that (y/n) gets much better treatment from Alhaitham, yet also doesn't approve of it?" It's Kaveh's turn to pout now.

"I think it's more of 'acceptance' for them, and let's be honest I'd have a hard time accepting kindness from Alhaitham." Cyno says matter-of-factly. Tighnari's ears perk up at Cyno's blunt yet witty remark, while Kaveh can only grumble in agreement. Alhaitham, surprisingly has a small smirk on his face despite the little jab from Cyno. Kaveh's frown deepens.

"I need another drink." Kaveh crosses his arms. Tighnari and Cyno look at each other confused.

Alhaitham abruptly bids his goodbyes, walking off with a satisfied smile. He joins you and catches up, hearing that you've just said goodbye to your friends as well. After a few minutes of walking, Alhaitham breaks the silence.

"The boys think I've been treating you a lot better than them." He says. You turn and look at your boyfriend, a little surprised that he's starting the conversation this time. Usually when you have time alone, you're the one who starts talking. But you close your eyes and smile, taking this as a sign that he's had a good time- even if he won't admit it.

"It's because you do." You say. You’re surprised he brought this up. You're aware of Alhaitham spoiling you since your relationship started, and it has pushed you into a realm of affection you didn't know of. It's still hard to grasp for you, since it is your first relationship, and he makes you happy.

"Is there a problem with it?" He asks.

"...no." You say shyly. The question he asks has a bit more of a unsure 'no' for an answer than you say, but Alhaitham seems to catch on. "It's just hard to get used to."

"Hard to get used to? You deserve it though." Alhaitham says. And you almost want to cry the way you know he's being genuine, but the words feel foreign to you. He senses your emotions, and brings you to a stop, just a few steps away from his house.

"Alhaitham..." You can barely croak out a sentence. He gives you a soft kiss on your forehead, running his fingers near the spot, soothing you.

"And besides, what they don't know is that I do treat everyone fairly. Including you." He says. You cock your head in confusion. His statement sounds normal, but you can't help but think he means otherwise. "Remember your overdue library book? I did hold you accountable that time."

You quirk your head in confusion. You do remember that, and how panicked you were when you realized after he pointed it out. But you were certain he did not hold you accountable, which was terrible especially with his role in the Akademiya now.

"No you didn't." You remark.

"I did. I told you to give me a kiss."

"Wh- a kiss is a romantic thing, not transactional! You mean to tell me that was conpensation?" You sputter in disbelief. He nods, and you can't stay mad to him. "Alhaitham, you're so mushy-"

"I agree. Add insufferable to that as well." A voice interrupts. Your head snaps to the source, which is of course a mopey looking Kaveh. "Also remind me next time, to walk twenty meters behind you guys instead, when walking home."

You open your mouth to say something, but end up staying silent when you watch Kaveh drag himself inside your shared home. You frown, and Alhaitham looks at you, knowing what you're thinking- the same you've thought several times by now.

"Do not." He says abruptly.

"I will buy Kaveh a cake." You say, not paying attention to your boyfriend. You were aware of their bickering, but a lot of times you can’t help but feel bad for Kaveh. Since you’re in the mix now, you feel partially responsible for the privilege you get from Alhaitham- even on his good side, it’s hard to watch others get ignored by him.

"No."

"And a coffee."

"No."

"Yes." You childishly protest against your boyfriend’s lack of empathy (which he does on purpose) towards who’s supposed to be, his best friend. “Tomorrow I will go buy him a cake and a coffee.”

“He can get his own cake and coffee.” He says sarcastically.

“Yes, but I’m sure it’ll make him much happier if he received it as a gift.” You explain.

“You don’t have to.” Alhaitham says, this time with a little bit of softness. You smile, recognizing his efforts to try and persuade you because you know he doesn’t understand why you care about these things. But this time, you won’t waver.

“But I will.” You retort, walking towards the entrance and grabbing the doorknob. “Besides, you said you hold me accountable, won’t you?”

Alhaitham smirks at your cheekiness as you sway your hips when you walk to leave him standing by himself, a satisfied look on your face after referencing the past conversation. He sighs and shakes his head, thinking of how bold you’ve become. He likes it.

“Of course I will.”

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Me: I love Diluc, he is my husband.

Also me: *writes 3 long ass finished fics on Alhaitham*

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham oneshot

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entiqua · 2 days

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I love your artstyle!! Do you have any tips for drawing?

thank you so much! i'm really happy you like it!!💗 as for tips, what i would say would change drastically depending on what kind you're looking for, but some very general ones:

draw what you love and want to see most, regardless of whether anyone else wants to see it. if you don't enjoy what you're drawing it'll never come out as good or genuine as something your whole heart and soul is in. i mean you'd think this would be a no-brainer but sometimes i've had to sit back and ask myself 'if no one was ever going to see this except me, would i actually spend time drawing this?' and i was surprised by the answer

that said, it is also completely valid if your motivation for drawing is to draw for other people! there have been plenty of times where i was too artblocked to draw my own ideas but was still able to draw commissions or gifts and enjoyed it simply because making other people happy with my art makes me happy.

don't get too caught up in having a consistent art style. in my experience this 1000% hinders you

having your sense of anatomy degrade over time without you noticing because you keep drawing the same types of characters is a very real thing! if this is a concern to you be sure to draw a variety

follow a billion artists that you like the art of and you will have endless inspiration injected directly into your brain every time you open social media

my favourite practical tip for those who draw at a desk: keep a small mirror next to you at all times. absolute game changer for quickly referencing hands

if you're drawing digitally, make the canvas huge! in my experience this lets you draw messier/faster and you can't tell at all when you zoom out. if you tend to get stuck spending unnecessary amounts of time micromanaging pixels (me💀) keep it zoomed out while drawing

related to the above point, messy drawings can have far more expressiveness in them than neat and polished drawings. nowadays i never do lineart and go straight from 'barebones stickman pose' to 'varying-levels-of-coherent sketch' and use that as my lineart. sweet freedom from the sketch-looks-better-than-the-lineart phenomenon

if your goal is to improve, then you really do have to scrutinize your art, figure out what you're not satisfied with, and commit the time to focusing on it. 'practice makes perfect' kinda rubs me the wrong way because of how much i've seen it interpreted as 'just draw everyday and you'll magically improve' but genuinely it won't get you very far if you don't actively think hard about what you're trying to improve and take the steps to do it. is this a hot take idk. also hand in hand with this, not every artist is trying to improve and you shouldn't feel bad for this! maybe you just wanna make a little headshot doodle of your fave blorbo and that's your only drawing goal ever. awesome. maybe you know your art has flaws but it's passable enough to convey what you want and you're perfectly satisfied with that. (this is the stage i'm usually at). also awesome!

don't hesitate to draw something because you think it's out of your skill level. the worst that can happen if you draw it is that it comes out terribly but you learned something and can always redraw it better in the future. the worst that WILL happen if you don't draw it is that you'll never draw it. and then it will sit in the back of your brain haunting you for years. it's not like i'm speaking from experience or anything aha

look up 'hand stretches for artists' and do them if you draw a lot unless you wish to summon the wrath of the carpal tunnel demons

of course, these may not necessarily work for you, and most importantly(!) these are coming from the perspective of someone who is primarily a hobbyist. some of this won't be practical for people who need to build an audience, maintain a consistent style for work, etc. these are just things that have personally helped me over many years of drawing :)

#i haven't posted in like 6 years i've been in the trenches #but i could yap about art all day

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lustlovehart · 10 hours

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Hard Stoned Gallery Dance

A/n: This was made like monthhsss ago, so I’m posting it as forgiveness for the lack of work i’ve been doing.

Pairing: [ Monster!Twst ] Malleus Draconia x Reader

Summary: Dancing is a beautiful past time, yet such a pretty act is ruined, when Malleus decides to let his affections for you run rampant. (Wc: 1.9k)

Warnings: Kissing & Licking, Murder/Death of Minor Characters (Not explicit), Possessive traits, Clinginess bordering obsession, a little blood, Biting/Marking

Your head leans itself on the rough surface of the stone wall. You’ve finished your objective for the day, so giving yourself this break is well deserved, ten minutes free of Crowley’s nagging is still freedom despite how it sounds. Your eyes can’t help but look up at the pretty blue sky, it stings to look at but you don’t mind the pain, seeing something so clear is worth it.

That cloud looks like a cat.

…

The taste of indulgence is quickly stripped out your grasp when the familiar sound of dragging stone resonates through the air, grating to your ears.

“Child of hunters, what may you be doing here?” His rock-hard face interrupts your view of the sky, green solid eyes look down on you as he casts a shadow on your visage.

Despite his body being made of pure stone, his eyes give a faint green glow, as if a bioluminescent moss grew there. His hair, his wings, and even his tail freely flowed as if he were just a regular Dragon hybrid. But alas, he is some sort of statue— Oh no not a statue, in his words a gargoyle.

You forgot about the difference one time and in turn, he gave you a 3-hour lecture on the difference between a grotesque and other gargoyles. Never again…

“I’m trying to hide from my boss.”

“Shall I be rid of him for you?” His mouth forms a little o as a small puff of a green flame releases from him.

“That would be a bad idea, I’d lose my source of income.” He quirks an eyebrow up at this., to be fair, you don’t think he has any clue what a “payday” is.

Despite his confusion, he lifts from his bowing form, a hand reaching out towards you in all its mossy glory. You’ve known him long enough to know what he wants.

A dance.

You don’t try to hide your exasperation as you take his invitation, albeit a bit slow. His stone body quickly pulls you up and into him. With how much tamer his form is compared to other beasts you know, it’s hard to remember that he’s part dragon, and even worse is part of the only few monsters who know magic.

So as of right now, this marks your third time dancing with one of the worst monstrosities currently on the bounty list. No maybe not one of the worst… From what you remember from Crowley’s ramblings (which isn’t much since you tune him out when possible) he’s probably the most dangerous.

You get the basic idea, but you’ve never truly seen for yourself why he’s considered so terrible. Is he not just a glorified water spout? Compared to a Kraken and an Incubus, surely his damage isn’t so grand to be warranted as the biggest beast to hunt.

“You’ll always be welcomed in my castle, you would not be short of accommodations either.” his hand rests upon your waist, pulling you closer than need be. His invasion of personal space is akin to a parasite leeching off its host, but you let him feed of you. Whether it’s from fear or a bond, you’re not decided.

Your movements are sluggish at best, but you can still remember the basic steps in the dance, your foot sloppily setting itself down where it should be, the occasional step on stone happening once or twice though.

“Considering the current state it’s in… is that even safe for me to walk in…? It looks like one good shout and the bricks holding the place together will crumble apart…”

“That is just the disguise we give it, as to not alert others of our presence. For you though, I’m willing to make it stand out if it makes you happy.” The hand lying on your waist retracts itself as he takes his other clawed limb and twirls you around, falling back into position when the spin is done.

“… I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll wait as long as it takes.” You know he’s not lying about that. You can distantly recall when a certain mystery monster had told you the tale of a longing dragon who perched himself at the opening of his window to wait for a certain hunter's return.

“Yes, he was so determined to be the first one to greet you, why he even stayed sat at the window for 5 months. It was quite endearing hehe.”

“Doesn’t it take hundreds of years for you to erode? Maybe it’ll take me 50 years to decide, by then I’ll be old and grey and you’ll be perfectly fine.” You take a step forward before the gargoyle's grip on your body tightens significantly, shrieking when he suddenly dips you down unprepared.

His freed hand takes your other arm and lifts it up to rest on his shoulder. Green sparkles are faintly flying around his lips as he slowly leans into the soft skin on your arm. His face leans in and presses chaste kisses on your limb, the gentle texture of his mouth catching you off guard as it tickles your body. Now you get it, he must’ve cast a spell to temporarily soften his lips.

He had attempted to kiss you once without taking this precaution, in turn, you gave him a face filled with discomfort at the stone texture that kept peppering you.

You can still remember the hurt face he had on when he saw your dislike towards his affections.

On his ninth kiss, his forked tongue peeks out from his mouth, licking a stripe up your skin. He finally lifts you up after the assault on your arm, his face only a few inches away from your own. It would’ve been quite the romantic atmosphere, had your nose not catch a sharp smell, and a horrible wretched one at that.

“You could be on your last breath and I’d still wait for an answer. But I hope that won’t happen.”

“Who knows, I work a dangerous job.” what is it?

The both of you twirl in unison despite the lack of music, your bodies in tandem as they move to just the sound of your surroundings. Though, your body is a little more sluggish than his own.

That stench… Is too familiar.

Eventually, your last steps fade out as you stop in your tracks.

“Is something wrong dear hunter?” Your grip on his shoulder fastens, if he was human you’re sure you would’ve broken his shoulder.

“What did you do?”

A smile is lit on his lips, his head tilting to the side, giving you such an innocent look, like he did nothing wrong.

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“The smell… Iron… This whole time I thought it was just the smell of the forest. But…” You swiftly pull a dagger out from your side, throwing it past his shoulder, the tip of the steel piercing into what sounded like wood.

He doesn’t turn back, only continuing to smile at you, as if you’re the only existing thing here, or more accurately, the only thing he cares about.

The bark of the trunk splits in half, falling to the ground, revealing the source of the stench. The top of the tree isn’t green, it’s red and brown.

4 pairs of hands stick from the leaves.

“You… What did you do Malleus–?!“ he’s quick to twirl you again, his grip on you tighter than it’s ever been. Despite your protests, he continues dancing as if you hadn’t seen anything.

You’re suddenly stricken with the memory of your first meeting with the beast, blood coating his mouth when he looked at you, pure admiration when he had finally met the muse everyone spoke so dearly of.

“Malleus, you—!“

“Tell me, dear human, was it not you who spared me?” He dips you down. “Was it not you who saw a beaten beast and allowed him to live?” He lifts you up. “Even as you walked away with a piece of stone you let go of one who’s rendered thousands over the years,” he pulls you in. “Dead” every action with your body is harsh, but not enough to hurt you, never enough to hurt you.

Because why would he ever wish to harm you?

He’d much rather smother you in affection, even when you’re exerting all your energy to kill him as he hugs you.

“It’s because you…”

“Looked so human?” He continues to keep you close, impossibly so, your skin melting into his, not from fawness, but fear.

“How did you know-“

“You’ve spared so many of us because we made you feel something in the moment,” he must be referring to everyone else… The look you gave him is dazed, caught up in the thought of every other monster you let get away. His fingers cage your chin in between them. “But don’t forget what we are.” Sparkles fly, temporarily blinding you.

When you open your vision, you’re greeted by the sight of Malleus, with the appearance of what he looked like if he was human, or at least similar to a human.

His skin isn’t rough and solid, his breaths are warm, and his hair is soft and pretty rather than a soft moss.

His eyes are a nice green, a pretty green. A color you would’ve enjoyed more had he been a human. Such a lively color shouldn’t be backdropped by crimson, yet, it is.

Behind him, several other trees collapse on themself, revealing the other tops, the same as the tree you had just seen. Views of stray limbs and vaguely familiar faces of hunters invade your mind, panic setting as you finally realize a question you should’ve asked long ago…

Why was Malleus so far from his castle?

Before you can react, your ears hear a faint whisper, eyes going heavy as little pings of thorns claw at your shoes. The last thing you see and feel, is his face leaning towards you, his finger loosening itself from your chin.

In a blink of an eye, he’s no longer the human you spared, but the monster you let escape back into the wild.

The fiendish of smiles is graced on his lips. Not because of evil, but because his smile, is so love stricken.

All because of you.

“Seems the little birdy fled the nest without permission.” Your eyes slowly flutter open, the familiar figure of a man bowing on top of you. “Now, I’ll forgive you as we weren’t expecting such a beast to appear-“

He’s immediately cut off in his sentence when a searing pain cuts through his chin.

“Augh—! How could you kick me after I spent precious time searching for you!“

“You’re the reason I’m here in the first place…!“

“I didn’t do anything!“ Despite your annoyance towards Crowley and all he stands for in your life, you can’t deny if someone had seen this scene play out in front of them, they would assume you two to be a father and his bickering child.

You attempt to stand to your full height, faltering at the pings of pain in your ankle. You suck in a breath, looking down as you nurse hurt skin.

There are briar thorns wrapped around your leg, a single rose adorning the stems, and a gentle green hue that contrasts the pure black of the floral life.

“Oh my, what were you doing last night?”

“… Night?”

“You’ve been gone for 36 hours my birdie.”

You don’t feel any different… Save for the prickle of thorns and fresh bite on your arm.

… Fresh bite?

Despite the indent, it doesn’t hurt, it’s like, he left it there as a reminder of your failures, at least to you. It could very well be his way of staking his claim on your heart.

“It’s a shame you didn’t get him when you could’ve, with your connections, you could’ve spared us a huge loss today…” you’re cruelly reminded of the people that lay to waste hidden in the trees. “We should let today serve as a reminder of what you must do.”

Crowley doesn’t look happy at the sight of so many employees who failed their jobs, yet he doesn’t look grieved either.

You… Truly, you wish you weren’t so softhearted during your missions. Maybe then, this could’ve all been avoided.

A/n: Like I said, this piece was from so long a goo, so i’m so sorry if the plot isn’t to anyone liking, but if it is, i’m happy you enjoyed it!!

#monster!twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vesperwrites #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere malleus #yandere malleus draconia

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solxamber · 15 hours

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Dragon's Favourite Sacrifice – Trey Clover x reader

Trey finds himself volunteering to be the human sacrifice to you in place of his siblings. What he didn't expect was to become your housekeeper instead of being eaten.

Crossposted from my ao3!

The village doesn’t know how to react when Trey volunteers as a sacrifice. He’s fully prepared for the worst, thinking back on all the horror stories the elders tell about the dragon god—the terrifying, ancient being that can destroy their village with one swipe of a claw. At least, that’s what everyone says.

But it had to be done. The village is on the brink of disaster and their last hope was the dragon god that lived in the mountains. The villagers began to proclaim that this was happening because they forgot to send a sacrifice in recent years. And when the current sacrifice chosen turned out to be one of his younger siblings, Trey had no choice but to volunteer himself.

As he approaches the temple, though, Trey wonders why the place looks like it hasn't been touched in years. Not exactly what you’d expect from a wrathful deity.

Maybe they just don't care about keeping things tidy before eating their next victim?

The inside of the temple is surprisingly cozy, but he doesn't have time to think about it. You, the ancient dragon, make your entrance—or rather, you wander in, yawning, and blink at him like you've just woken up from a really long nap.

“Hey… uh, are you the dragon god?” Trey asks, clutching the bundle of supplies he'd brought along.

You stretch, wings fluttering lazily behind you, before giving him a confused look. "Who else would I be? The village’s lost pet?"

Trey blinks. This is not what he was expecting. He was ready for a quick, brutal end. Maybe some fire and brimstone. Not... this.

“Right.” He clears his throat. “I’m Trey, from the village. They sent me as the sacrifice.”

You squint at him like he's just told you the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard. "Sacrifice? They still do that? I haven’t asked for a sacrifice in… decades. I was actually happy to not have my nap interrupted by scared humans. I was going to help with the crisis anyway."

Now it’s Trey's turn to stare. “You… don’t want the sacrifice?”

"Nope." You shrug, completely nonchalant. "You can go back to the village if you want. Or, if you're looking for a change of scenery, the village on the other side of the mountain is kinda nice."

Trey lets out a small sigh, but it’s not exactly relief. “I… can’t. If I go back, they'll think the offering was rejected. My siblings could suffer for it."

You pause, then nod thoughtfully. "Ah, yeah, human politics." You click your tongue. "I hate when that happens. Well, just so you know, the past sacrifices? Yeah, they all ended up in the village on the other side of the mountain."

Trey’s jaw drops. "Wait… what?"

"Yeah." You nod sagely. "They all thought the same thing—'Oh no, the dragon’s gonna eat me'—but I just sent them over there.”

He blinks at you again, trying to absorb all of this information. "So… you don’t actually…?"

"Eat people?" you finish for him, giving him a strange look. "No. That’s gross. Why would I do that?"

Trey's lips twitch upward. A beat of silence passes before Trey clears his throat again. "Mind if I stay, then? I can cook, clean, and—"

You give him a sideways glance, and your eyes light up. "Wait. You cook?"

"Yeah," Trey says, still trying to grasp that he’s negotiating his survival with a dragon.

A slow grin spreads across your face. "Well then, you’re hired. Welcome to dragon duty."

Trey’s not sure whether to laugh or cry at how anticlimactic this has all turned out. He’d prepared himself for noble sacrifice, but instead, he’s somehow signed up for dragon housekeeping duty. With a deep breath, he puts on a smile. "So, uh, what do you want for dinner?"

From that moment on, life with you is… surprisingly comfortable. Trey, ever practical, makes himself useful.

He handles things with the same calm practicality he’d use back in the village, except now, there’s a giant, sometimes snarky dragon looming over him as he goes about his tasks.

He spends his days cooking, tending to the temple’s neglected gardens, and even baking pastries—though you still don’t believe him when he says there’s no oyster sauce in his sweets.

“You’re pulling my tail,” you mutter, eyeing the perfectly innocent-looking cake Trey’s set out in front of you. “I can taste something weird in it.”

Trey just smiles. “Oyster sauce. Definitely.”

You huff, giving up on trying to figure him out, and focus on enjoying your meals and new company instead.

One evening, after a particularly good dinner (with no discernible oyster flavor, much to your disappointment), you glance at Trey lounging by the fireplace. He's been here for a while now, and you find that you're quite enjoying his company. In fact, you're enjoying it a little too much.

"So, you’re not as terrifying as the stories make you out to be," Trey comments one day, setting down a plate of food.

You snort, flipping lazily on your side. "Thanks, I guess. Humans are always so dramatic."

"And the drought?" Trey asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Taken care of," you reply with a smug smile. "Already brought in the rains.”

He nods and settles down next to you, holding a book from the library that you never bothered to visit.

Well, it's now or never. “So,” you begin, almost casually, “I’ve decided.”

“Decided what?” Trey looks up from the book he’s reading.

“That you’ll be my mate.”

He nearly drops the book. “Your... what?”

“My mate.” You stretch your wings, trying to look as imposing as possible—though you’re pretty sure Trey isn’t intimidated by you anymore. “You’re the first human who actually stuck around. And you can cook. That’s mate material.”

Trey is, understandably, at a loss for words. “…You’re serious?”

“Completely.” You flash him that grin again, all teeth and playful confidence. “Unless you’ve got a better offer somewhere else?”

Trey pinches the bridge of his nose, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays him. “No, I think I’ll stick around.”

And just like that, Trey Clover—the supposed human sacrifice—finds himself the mate of a centuries-old dragon. Maybe this wasn’t the fate he expected, but all things considered… it could be worse.

At least the dragon likes his cooking.

#Trey clover x reader #trey x reader #trey clover #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #trey x you #trey clover x you

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x-gabrielle-x · 3 days

Text

Withered Cards | III

Pairings: Jason Todd x Reader.

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, murder, swearing, major and minor injuries, death.

Summary: Despite the many different problems you overcome with Jason Todd, you always eventually make it back to each other. Even after his death, how could you still love a man who changed so much? Even when you made a turn for the worst.

Series Masterlist

Jason Todd 5:48am

"Mistakes are not something you can afford to make, Jason," Bruce commented, though his gaze was trained on the screen before him. "I told you this was an intel mission. You should have waited for my queue."

I adjusted my position on the chair I was currently sat on, my gaze burning into Bruce's back the longer he continued to stare at the projective computer before him. The tape that he had collected from the mission played on repeat, and truthfully, it was becoming painful having to rewatch it over and over.

Yes, I had been given strict orders to merely stay hidden within the shadows and report back to Batman with the intel I was instructed to gather, but I wanted to do more than be a sidekick to gather information.

“How was that a mistake?” I retorted, pointing to the screen. “If I hadn’t gone, you would have never known what was happening down there.”

Finally, Bruce turned in his chair, his voice just as deep as always. Like a parent scolding his child - which was true to an extent.

"You're telling me that you found out what that whole ordeal was about?" He questioned, gesturing a hand to the screen. "Because it sure doesn't look like you do."

It angered me more than I would have liked to admit that he was mostly right. The most I knew was that the Joker was up to something, but when was he not? The best possible answer I got was that he has an alliance of some sort. The girl seemed to be around my age, possibly younger, and yet she was one of the most skilled fighters I've fought. She was experienced, and no doubt deadly.

My nose ached from the harsh punch she had thrown, the wet rag that was now soaked with crimson blood was discarded beside me.

When Bruce noticed my silence, he continued to ignore me from then on. His fingers dancing along the computer and leaving an uncomfortable silence I wished to break.

Alfred walked in with a tray of coffee; something Bruce had waved him off to go and grab whilst he worked. Whilst the silence lingered, Alfred's gaze flickered up to the screen of the masked girl.

"I do not recognize this criminal," Alfred spoke as he settled the tray down. "Have we seen this girl before?"

Bruce shook his head, a frown etched on his features. "No, but there have been witnesses. Apparently, she's only showed up around Gotham the past two months."

Alfred hummed. “And what does this criminal do, exactly?”

Bruce pushed his body away from the desk with a long sigh, his brows still pinched into a deep frown as his hand dragged down his face. “Jason’s body cam just managed to pick up a little of their conversation before she ran off. The Joker is in on this, too. She knows him, and well.”

My curiosity was piqued. What was the Joker's intentions, now? Surely it was another scheme to lure Batman into a trap.

“Perhaps another laughing gas?” Alfred suggested as he glanced over at me, gesturing toward the tea as he offered to pour some, but I shook my head.

"Not a laughing gas," I concluded, digging into the suit that I still wore. I pulled out the familiar vial that I had managed to snatch from the masked girl, holding it up for everybody's view. "I'm thinking maybe a drug, or maybe some sort of crazy mutation serum!" I looked between the two, a satisfied smirk on my face.

Bruce remained silent for a moment, his gaze never leaving the vial in my hand. I was expecting praise, a congratulations, maybe even a pat on the back and allowed more freedom whilst on patrol. But Bruce's face remained stoic.

"Jason," he started, tone very far from what I had expected. Was it anger? Disappointment? Shock?

He was quick to saunter over and take the vial from my hand, analyzing it carefully as he twisted it in his grasp.

With a shake of his head, his frown deepened. If that were even possible. He placed the vial carefully onto the desk beside the computer.

"You're too reckless," he began. "Not only did you go against my orders, but now you are involved with a crime much deeper than what you can handle. You've put yourself in danger. And not only yourself," he pointed to the screen again. "But you got her in danger, too.

I felt my anger boil, ready to spill over any second. Could Bruce not see my success for once? Could he not give me the approval I desperately wished for? It was risky, but I got the job done.

"I did what I had to," I defended, the anger evident in my voice as I took a step closer.

Bruce quickly snapped back. "And what you did was wrong."

A pause.

"Next time something like this happens, you follow my order... otherwise the title of Robin goes to somebody else."

In the heat of my rage, I stormed past both Bruce and Alfred and made my way out of the Batcave, cape flowing behind me with every long stride. Before the door had slammed shut behind me, I just managed to hear a little of Alfred's voice.

"They're both just children, Master Wayne," he tried. "Much like you once were."

"I cant have him making more mistakes."

Y/N Y/L/N 5:27am

A harsh slap landed against my cheek, my head snapping to the side from the force. The burning sensation left behind caused for my eyes to sting with tears, my vision blurred.

His maniacal laughter was all i could hear despite the ringing in my ears, and I didn't fail to notice the very evident annoyance behind each deep inhale of laughter.

"I cant believe it!" Joker paced. "You really let that little rodent slip past your fingers, just like that? My, my, I might have placed just a little too much faith in you."

He crouched down before me, masking a frown as his thumb came up to swipe the blood from my lip. My tongue darted out to swipe at the cut he had left, the metallic taste lingering in my mouth.

"I must say I am very disappointed," Joker hummed, but oddly enough his hand came to rest on my shoulder, like an odd way of comforting. "But that's why there's always room to learn from mistakes!"

The vial that I was sent to retrieve merely a few hours ago was no longer tucked away safely in my pocket.

I had only realized once I was in front of Joker's latest warehouse that he used as a current hideout, my hands searching every pocket, each shoe in search for the vial. Robin had managed to slip it out without me noticing, and it enraged me.

He was fast, skilled, and very obviously sly. Although it was a tough fight, it brought some adrenaline and excitement into my night. Something I had craved for a while.

Joker clicked his tongue in thought, now sat on a torn couch across from me with his leg propped up on his knee.

"You'll make it up to me, right, my little clown?" his tone was almost mocking. "Perhaps next time you might run into the little birdy again, oh, that would spice things up!"

I inhaled a shaky breath. "I'll get it back," I said, but he waved me off.

"Nah, I'll just get the doc to make me a new one. Although, we cant afford any more mistakes now, can we, Y/N?"

He looked at me expectingly, dread washing over me the longer his gaze pierced my own.

"No, we cant."

"That's my girl!" He clapped his hands. "Harley! Come get the poor girl cleaned up, will ya? She looks like she's been through hell!" He let out a loud cackle at what he considered a joke, slapping his knee.

Harley's head popped from around the corner of the cracked wall, pigtails swinging with every movement she made. With one look at me, she was rushing over.

"Puddin, what happened?" She practically squealed, ushering me to stand up, though the small smile never left her lips. "Oh dear, lets get you all nice and cleaned up!"

The bathroom that she had practically dragged me into smelt of urine and had broken tiles scattered across the floor. Mold was growing along the ceiling and puddles of water crowded at the base of the sink. I had to hold back the look of disgust when Harley took a small rag and wet it under some water.

It wasn't long until Harley was finally finished with dabbing my split lip with the cold water and tending to the few cuts I had littered over my flesh. It was a poorly done job, but the moment I got to step into my own small room - a storage space that barely managed to fit the worn mattress I used to sleep on, I was instantly flopping down.

It was quiet and dark, but nothing I wasn't already used to. I enjoyed having some time away from the two clowns, after all.

Looking over, I reached for the same small bear that I've kept over the years, only now it wasn't as soft as it used to be, and the familiar smell of my old home was gone from the fur. Instead, it was now covered in dirt and grime. A button had been sewn on poorly as an eye after the last had fallen off, and its right arm was barely hanging on by a thread. Still, I carefully held it against my body as I laid on my side, alone and tense.

My mind refused to settle, thoughts swarming with the Robin boy who had managed to make my night go from alright to horrific in only a few hours.

He had outplayed me - tricked me - and still somehow, he had managed to get my mind swimming. Our fight was oddly thrilling, and it confused me with his cocky comments. Batman was nowhere to be seen, meaning that Robin had let me go. Why?

My knuckles had tightened their hold on the bear, a reminder of my life before any of this had happened. I didn't dwell on it, knowing that there was no way back. But the sadness lingered once I buried my face into the soft fur, allowing for the sleep to catch up to me. As usual it was never a peaceful one, but instead filled with nightmares and an all too familiar wide grin.

@annabellelee @stormz369

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

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ceasarslegion · 15 hours

Text

I am aware of the irony of soap boxing about this but it's entirely possible to soap box too much, and lean into buzzkill territory where it becomes very hard to talk to you and therefore very hard to want to talk to you at all. I saw this happen a few times when I went to a con recently, which turned me off of wanting to go up and ask for the exhibitors tumblr URLs to see if they wanted to hang out more.

Specifically, I went to an anime trivia panel that included a bunch of classics like Cardcaptor Sakura, Ouran High School, Berserk, etc. Whenever one of these shows were mentioned the exhibitors went off on weird tangents to make absolutely sure everybody in the room knew how problematic they thought they were and how they don't support anything that the shows obviously (/s) did, in case you were wondering. They also made weird comments about a lovely artist who had a sign saying she had an nsfw flipbook and had no real limits for commission orders because "what if the kids here saw that??" I was thinking of going to anime karaoke until they said they were hosting that one, and I decided not to because I was put off by the possibility that they would take some kind of moral issue with whatever anime op I tried to sing.

Another one I went to, someone shared that the nanowrimo website had tons of worldbuilding and character resources and one of them INTERRUPTED HER to lean into the mic and make sure everyone in the room knew they didn't support nanowrimo and thought they were really bad and awful and that no one should use them, and the whole room felt really awkward because we were like dude??

And recently I stopped talking to one of my coworkers because he takes some kind of moral issue in every little thing I show him. I told him to watch Madoka Magica and he made it all the way to the op before slamming me about how he thought it was pedophilic and a slippery slope and "how could you watch something like that???" and refused to hear anything about how not all nudity is sexual and human bodies are just human bodies sometimes.

This makes you so freaking hard to talk to man, sometimes I think people should stop being so obsessed with if other people will think they support the worst possible interpretation of something and just chill the fuck out. It's not that deep if someone has fond memories of Ouran High School, it's just an anime. It's not that deep if someone remembers a place to get resources, it's just a website. It's not that deep if a show shows actual human bodies in non-sexual settings. Calm the fuck down.

#some thoughts

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ghostradiodylan · 1 day

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Probably a lukewarm take, but other than the (lack of an) ending, the Laura and Ryan scenes are some of the worst written and conceived parts of The Quarry.

And this is completely separate from whether Ryan is interested in Dylan (he is, but that's another post and not important to this rant) or Kaitlyn; even if Ryan had no other potential relationships in the game, even if Laura wasn't practically married to Max, wearing his ring around her neck the entire time they're talking, it still would feel flat to me because nothing about it is earned.

Laura is on a killing spree with the single-minded goal of saving Max. She genuinely believes the only way to do that is to kill Chris Hackett. Even if you've made her argue with Max to the extent that they can, they're still a strong unit when she goes out to solve this werewolf thing once and for all. Even if you don't believe in love think their relationship would survive all this trauma, she deeply believes she owes it to him to rescue him, that is her entire guiding ethos during the game.

Ryan is going with her to try to keep that from happening because Chris has been his friend and mentor for years. We know Ryan has an absent mother, unmentioned father, and a potentially turbulent family life, and he's been coming to HQSC for so long that it feels like home to him, that Chris and his kids feel like family. Laura has already killed Kaylee. Even if Ryan completely bought into the werewolf thing by now, that would be a tough pill for him to swallow, given his reaction to her death.

Then, they fall in the titular Quarry and suddenly have the option to express a completely unearned sort of camaraderie with each other. Why is Laura asking Ryan about his love life in the first place? The question about him being single makes sense as a dig, but it doesn't make any sense for her to ask about him being a 'brooding and mysterious loner' because... she hasn't actually seen him do anything brooding or mysterious? How did she even get that impression? If Laura's got some kind of borderline psychic intuition then this is really the worst possible use of that ability--she should have foreseen her need to go to that motel and stay the fuck out of locked storm shelters instead.

It doesn't make a lick of sense for her to say that Kaitlyn looks up to him either. She hasn't seen that. Hell, we as players haven't even seen that! Kaitlyn seems generally tolerant of but unimpressed by Ryan. She has the option to be impatient with him multiple times and even get the chyron that she's ‘losing respect’ for him if he suggests she take the gun and go after Nick instead. This seems like an objectively good idea, since she's a much better shot than Ryan, a fact which the game keeps telling us despite refusing to give her a gun until the last possible second, though maybe the concern is that she'd have to drag Nick back to the campfire herself. (Honestly, I think Kaitlyn could do it, I think she's like a mighty ant who can lift many times her own weight, but that's not what this post is about.)

Ryan, for his part, shouldn't really be willing to talk about any of this with Laura either. He canonically doesn't even want to talk to his coworkers about his animation school decision (in the office scene with Dylan and at the campfire with Emma if you choose truth like a lunatic) and he's known them for at least two months, if not for years attending the same camp. But he met Laura a few hours ago and is suddenly willing to spill his guts about who he does or doesn't have a crush on and who does/doesn't have 'the hots' for him, despite the only experience they have together being her leaving his friend of several years dead facedown in a pool and expressing a strong desire to kill his father figure? I simply do not buy it.

I'm not sure if this was supposed to go along with the relationship system that they scrapped or what (there's not a single shred of Ryan and Laura stuff in the datamine that I've been able to find), but all it really serves to do is muddy the waters by trying to force some level of intimacy on Ryan and Laura before the big confrontation at the Hackett House. But that confrontation itself should have been the thing that forged that intimacy between them and allowed them to go on to fight Silas together.

Overall, I think it's a major sign that the back third of the game got a very rushed and, frankly, bad chop job (which we know is true) and that they struggled to tie the resulting loose threads off in a way that made any kind of narrative sense. It's a shame, because the writing in The Quarry is actually way better than most people give it credit for, it just wasn't allowed to pay off in a lot of ways that clearly were intended.

#the quarry #bunny rants #bunny rants about the quarry #I can see that Laura is an objectively good character but this makes me not fond of her #In the same way it seems to make a lot of people not fond of Ryan but I could never not be fond of Ryan #Laura & Ryan #ryan erzahler #laura kearney #imagine if the quarry was an actually finished game #sigh

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sass-ruby · 17 hours

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Gosh- THIS EPISODE

For me, it felt like there needed to be something more.. I dunno, it just felt empty? And by empty, I mean what nexus said. Like his insults and actions.. it's kinda weird to me. You're telling me this is the SAME person who hijacked moon's head and tortured him, making him relieve his worst memories? He sounds so pathetic, and cringe at the moment, ESPECIALLY with his "I AM GOD!" complex.

Though, the "I'm sorry" from sun was HEARTBREAKING. In my opinion, it isn't sun's fault. He went through so much, and had no time to grieve because the new moon already showed up. Just imagine being in sun's place, a close family member you've known more than 10+ years dies and you get no time to grieve? It'd be fricking difficult. Also, I believe nexus is still a moon. He may claim that he's different but, he's almost the same stubborn, hateful moon. (Not talking about sun's moon, most moons in general). That's why sun said, "you're not worse than moon- hell you're not even better!"

Another thing I noticed, he seemed way more vulnerable with sun. Yelled at him for dealing with him wrongly (him being a replacement) and such. He is definitely hurt. To me, he seemed like a hurt, angry teenager yelling at his parents for doing him wrong and making him hateful, vengeful, a monster. It genuinely felt like a cry for help of some sorts

It's interesting to me that moon was scared of Nexus, and of death. Before his death, he didn't care. But now, he's scared which his reason was that he didn't want to put his family through the same thing. I think it's because of the qna episode.. Sun confirmed that when moon died, he just cried. It probably made him feel guilt of some sorts.

Oh, a thing to mention, I LOVE HOW RUIN TRIED TO KEEP SUN SAFE. In my eyes, ruin being scared is all an act. He has been through SO much worse, as well as destroying 5000+ dimensions so why would this scare him? I think he's trying to help sun and moon, because if he acts scared, no one would suspect him, right? He did leave a hint, which helped sun and moon find sun's² dimension. And he even told them "I'm not scared for me, I'm scared for you."

Ruin is a clever character, who has many tricks up his sleeve. He's great at tricking people, he is the world's greatest actor after all! (Get the reference?)

He surely has some sort of plan, or at least an outline of it.

EEEEEE I LOVE HIM SM, I CAN'T WAIT FOR WHAT HAPPENS IN THE FUTURE

5 more days until october

#tsams #sams #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #sun and moon show #sundrop #tsams nexus #nexus #eals #dark sun tsams #fnaf

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hungermakesmonsters · 17 hours

Text

Devotion & Desire

Chapter Four

Plot summary : When you, a lone omega, move in across the hall from alpha Bucky Barnes, he knows that his life is about to get a lot more complicated, but he has no idea just how much you’re going to turn his life upside down. You’re both devoted to fixing your past mistakes, but will desire for something more get the better of you?

Pairing : Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Explicit smut and omega heat stuff. All chapters will contain the usual omegaverse and A/B/O tropes, and explicit smut. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 6.2k

A/N : 😅 still trying to walk the fine line between plot and smut

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

MASTER LIST

Chapter Four

It felt like a fever dream, like some terrible nightmare that started to fade from memory the moment your eyes opened. Only, it wasn’t. It had happened.

Bucky had -

No.

You didn’t even want to think about it. Regardless of how much it had helped, and how much you might have needed it at the time, you felt nothing but regret. Closing your eyes, you were assaulted by vivid memories of the way he’d touched you, the way you’d moaned for him, and perhaps worst of all, the way you’d kissed him.

Hours later, his scent still lingered in the room, mixed with yours, making you feel dizzy, giddy.

Somehow, you managed to pull yourself from the crude little nest you’d throw together with little more than sheets, sofa cushions and a couple of towels.

Everything ached and just the exertion of standing up and pulling on your leggings had your skin coated in a layer of sweat. You felt awful. And, as you took a step away from the bed, you felt like you were going to fall down. But you couldn’t stop. You needed to find Bucky. You needed him to know that it had been a mistake.

Staggering, you made your way to the door, weakly pulling it open and almost falling through it. But then another scent assaulted your senses; another alpha, someone you didn’t recognise.

He looked up at you, an easy smile pulling on his lips and, for a second, there was a faint hint of recognition. You thought you recognised him. But you couldn’t place how or where from. Your mind was a haze, the fog of your heat making it difficult for you to think straight.

“Hey, I’m Sam,” he said, clearly noticing your confusion. “I’m a friend of Bucky’s.”

“Where is he?” You asked, gripping the doorframe for support.

“He needed to go out, didn’t tell me where. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but he’s not exactly an open book,” Sam answered, letting out a warm sort of laugh that told you he and Bucky were close. “He asked me to keep an eye on you, in case you needed anything.”

Your eyes widened, thoughts heading in an unsettling direction. He’d asked another alpha to take care of you?

“Not like that,” Sam quickly clarified, holding up his hands, wanting to make sure there was no confusion. “I brought you some things.”

He gave a nod of his head towards two bags on the floor, a backpack, and a shopping bag filled with womens clothes.

“There’s some of my sister's clothes in there, she’s a beta and a bit bigger than you, but they should be alright,” he explained and you offered a muttered thank you.

You decided to keep your distance, clinging to the door frame while your legs trembled beneath you. Your eyes dropped for a moment, struggling with a strange mixture of feelings welling up inside you.

You felt abandoned by Bucky, even though you didn’t want him around in the first place. And you longed for him, despite hating him. Shaking your head, you tried to clear your mind and stop all the racing thoughts and unsettling feelings. It was just your heat making you feel things that you knew weren’t real, your biology trying to make you into a good omega for an alpha you had the misfortune of craving.

Looking at Sam again, you realised he was watching you, and recognition finally sparked within you.

“Wait... you’re the Falcon... or is it Captain America now?” The confusion was clear in your voice, only sounding half convinced that he was who you believed him to be.

“Just Sam is fine,” he replied with that easy smile.

You weren’t sure what it was about him, but he felt safe, like he was the sort of guy to wear his heart on his sleeve, unlike Bucky who was gruff and guarded. How the two of them could be friends, you couldn’t even begin to understand. So, you asked.

“Why is Captain America helping the Winter Soldier?”

“Because Bucky isn’t the Winter Soldier anymore,” Sam answered. Clearly the look on your face gave away that you didn’t believe him so, a moment later, Sam continued; “he told me what happened to you - to your brother - but you have to understand that while it might have been him, it wasn’t Bucky.”

“You think just because he was under mind control that he’s any less to blame?” You answered back, unintentionally allowing some of your anger to slip into your tone.

“Do you maybe want to take a second to think about what you just said?” Sam asked, his voice still calm and friendly. Your gaze dropped, hating that some part of you knew he was right to call you out. “I know it doesn’t change how you feel and it won’t bring your brother back, but if you think for a moment that it doesn’t hurt him almost as much as it hurts you, then -”

The sound of the door had him falling quiet. For whatever reason, he didn’t want Bucky to know that he’d just been defending him to you.

Stepping into the apartment, Bucky looked at Sam before noticing you standing in the doorway to the bedroom.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “Should you be up?”

“We were just getting to know each other,” Sam decided to answer before you got the chance.

Bucky grimaced. “What did you tell her?”

For a moment he looked at you, seeming so genuinely concerned that his friend might have told you something terrible, and you wondered if that was just how their friendship was or if Bucky was so unsure of himself that all he could do was jump to the worst conclusion.

“He didn’t say anything I don’t already know,” you answered.

It earned a surprised look from Sam, and it was as close as you’d ever get to actually agreeing with what he’d told you. But agreement and acceptance were two different things, and you still hated the Winter Soldier and, by extension, Bucky.

“Where have you been?” You dared to ask Bucky, realising that he was carrying a familiar looking box in his hands.

“I was in the neighbourhood, so I stopped at Gracie’s for a pie,” Bucky said, finally stepping further into the apartment.

“You’ve got ex-Hydra agents looking for you and you stopped for a pie?” Sam asked, like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

“It’s - it’s really good pie,” you said, your grip tightening on the doorframe, as a wave of cramping hit.

“Did you ask her about Rumlow yet?” Sam asked, seemingly from nowhere.

Your legs almost gave in beneath you at the sound of his name. Pressing yourself against the doorframe was the only thing that stopped you from falling.

Bucky was in front of you in an instant, before Sam was even half out of his seat. He reached for you to steady you, but you did everything you could to pull away and remain standing under your own steam.

“How do you know about Rumlow?” You asked, eyes moving between the two alphas.

“The guys that tried to take you, they used to work with him. We thought Rumlow died in Lagos years ago, but -” Sam explained, stopping when you shook your head.

“No... he’s alive,” you said.

“How does Rumlow fit into any of this?” Sam asked. “How do you know him?”

Your eyes drifted to Bucky, an uncomfortable feeling twisting your guts.

“He promised to help me track down and kill the Winter Soldier but he - he lied to me,” you explained without explaining, not wanting to say anything more than that.

“Why would he be after you now?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t -” a sudden surge of pain cut you off and almost had you doubling over.

Before you could even think to try and stop him, Bucky had hold of you, sweeping you off your feet with ease and carrying you back to bed. Moments later, he was gently placing you back down in your nest.

“You need to rest,” he told you softly, his fingers tenderly brushing your hair away from your face.

You struggled to keep your eyes open and Bucky took that as a sign to leave you. But, when he started to turn, you reached for him, weakly grasping his sleeve.

“We need to talk,” you told him, and watched as he glanced to the door making sure Sam wasn’t listening in. When you were both satisfied that you wouldn’t be overheard, you spoke. “Don’t go getting any ideas about last night. It - it shouldn’t’ve happened, it was just -”

“I get it,” he cut in. “I’m an alpha, you’re an omega. It’s just biology. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Good ‘cause it can't happen again,” you said, barely able to even look him in the eye as you spoke.

His jaw clenched and, for a moment it almost seemed like he was angry - or maybe he was disappointed. It was hard to tell. Either way, it seemed like your words had more of an effect than you’d anticipated.

“Fair enough,” he said, his tone quickly becoming more distant, somehow colder. “I was just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

It was a stupid thing to say because you both knew it was entirely untrue but, at that exact moment, you believed your own bullshit.

“Clearly,” he remarked sarcastically, “you seem to be doing great on your own.”

When you didn’t seem to have a witty response for him, Bucky pulled away from you, breaking your hold on him, and you watched as he left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. All you could do for a few minutes was stare at the door, wondering if you’d somehow managed to hurt his feelings. “She seems -”

“She’s a pain in the ass,” Bucky finished the thought for Sam, stalking away from the closed door. Sam just watched Bucky for a moment as he grabbed the box with the pie and headed towards the kitchen. He waited a beat before following after, watching Bucky as he removed the pie from the box and cut himself a large slice without offering any to Sam.

“Okay, this is passive aggressive even for you,” Sam remarked, nodding at the pie, indicating he wanted a slice.

Bucky huffed before cutting his friend a slice significantly smaller than his own and stalking back into the den, taking a seat on the sofa to eat.

“Listen, if this is getting to you, I can watch her and you can go do... whatever it is you do when you go off on your own,” Sam offered cautiously as he took a seat.

Sam was too busy breaking off his first bite of pie with his fork to notice the way Bucky was glaring at him but, the moment he looked up, he had his answer.

“Okay,” Sam said, deciding it wasn’t worth starting an argument over, so he changed the subject. “Torres got back to me, he says he still hasn’t found any trace of her or who he really is, but he found out about Berlin...”

The statement was allowed to hang in the air between them, not speaking until Bucky gave some indication that he wanted to hear it and, even when he received that slight nod, Sam hesitated for a moment more.

He pulled out his phone and opened the file that Torres had sent him.

“It was in February, 2009. There was a tech conference in Berlin - but not for your run-of-the-mill iPhones and games consoles. It was all military grade tech,” Sam explained, watching Bucky for any negative reactions or flickers of recollection. “We’re talking big like Stark Tech, Hammer Industries, A.I.M. -”

“I get the picture,” Bucky interrupted.

“Well, there were rumours about some new satellite tech, something that would have allowed whoever had control of it to spy on anyone, to break into any system, to watch anyone they wanted. It was years ahead of its time. From what we can tell it was the sort of thing that a group like Hydra wouldn’t want falling into the wrong hands.”

“So they sent me,” Bucky sighed. “What else did you find out?”

Again, Sam hesitated for a few seconds.

“The crime scene report from the hotel; it says her brother checked in under a false name, assumed to be travelling alone, and the crime scene photos... they show that he put up a fight...” Instead of explaining it, Sam handed his phone to Bucky, watching as he took in the crime scene photos and the evidence list before going very quiet and very still. He let a minute pass in silent contemplation before he spoke again.

“He was hiding something,” he sighed, his eyes closing for a moment and his head hanging forward, the memories flooding back to him. “I was sent to get everything he had. I got the drive with the schematics but I - I thought he was holding something back. And he was. He was protecting his sister while she hid. I tortured him and he refused to give her up...”

Putting Sam’s phone down, he stood, his slice of pie forgotten and abandoned.

Sam didn’t say anything as Bucky walked towards the window, putting his back to his friend, not wanting Sam to see the pain and self-loathing on his face. But Sam wasn’t prepared to let him wallow.

“So, what now?” Sam asked.

“What do you mean ‘what now’?”

“What comes next, Buck? You know why she tried to kill you, now how are you going to make amends?”

“Don’t start with the therapy-talk, Sam. I’m not in the mood,” Bucky snapped.

“Well you better get in the mood, because there’s a person in that room who needs your help, and if you’re not willing to look after her -”

“I never said that.” Bucky turned back to face Sam, conviction clear in his voice. “Of course I’ll look after her.

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

You lost track of time the moment you were placed back in bed. You thought that you could hear their voices through the door but maybe it was just delirium from the fever playing tricks on you. Everything hurt. Your muscles ached and your joints felt stiff, and your temperature continued to climb.

Turning this way and that, you tried to get comfortable, tried to find just the right angle to lay at to make the pain stop.

It wasn’t long before there was something else beneath the pain, that desperate longing that you couldn’t control, that need that had your hand pawing at your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but knowing that, once you started, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

The more you denied yourself, the more it hurt, until it felt like your insides were burning.

You reached for the water bottle on the nightstand, only to clumsily knock it onto the floor and, when you leaned down to try and retrieve it, your vision started to swim.

The next thing you knew, you were on the floor. There was no telling if it was the sound of the bottle falling or your knees hitting the floor that alerted Bucky, but he was at your side in seconds, swearing and placing his hand on your forehead to feel how hot your fever was running.

“You should’ve told me it had gotten this bad,” he muttered as he scooped you off the floor and started to carry you through the apartment.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.

Bucky didn’t answer, but it soon became clear.

He took you into the bathroom, carrying you into the shower and quickly started up the cold water.

A relieved gasp left your lips at the feel of the cold water on your skin, soaking into your sweat-drenched clothes. Your head dropped onto his shoulder, letting him hold you under the water for what felt like hours. You tried to mutter something, an awkward thank you, but the words came out as little more than incomprehensible babble. Bucky simply shushed you, his arms holding you a little tighter.

It didn’t even cross your mind that you were both still dressed or that the cold must have been uncomfortable for Bucky. It finally felt like you could breathe again, like you weren’t being smothered by the fever. Your eyes closed and you relaxed in his arms, coming to the uncomfortable realisation that moments like this were why omegas needed alphas.

You shifted, moving your head, barely even noticing that you were doing it until your nose was pressed to his gland and every breath you took was him.

Somehow you managed to fall asleep in his arms, and you had no idea how long he held you under the water before drying you off as best he could and returning you to bed.

But you didn’t sleep for long and, when your eyes opened again, you found him sitting on the floor beside your bed, glancing over his shoulder at you as you reached for the fresh, cold bottle of water he’d left on the nightstand for you.

“I remember,” he told you cryptically, looking forward again, facing away from you.

“What?”

“Your brother. That night in Berlin… everything I did...”

There was something in his voice, in the slump of his shoulders, that had you remembering Sam’s words to you, and it made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry,” he added a moment later. “I understand why you hate me so much now.”

It sounded genuine, it sounded like he really was sorry, like the memory of what he’d done was causing him as much pain as it did you. And you didn’t want to hear it. You weren’t prepared for any of this; after years of seeing him as a monster, having your brother’s brutal murder as your only frame of reference, you found that this contrite, apologetic Bucky didn’t fit the role of the man you wanted to blame.

And it left you annoyed. It left you feeling like all the time you’d spent, the years of your life you’d wasted and the terrible things you’d endured to get to him, to make him suffer, had all been for nothing.

How could you hurt this man who seemed so pained by his own existence?

An awkward, uncomfortable sound escaped you as you laid back, your frustration bubbling over and leaving you at a total loss.

Bucky had no idea what was going through your head, he could only assume that you were still in pain.

“It’s going to get worse, isn’t it?” He asked with a noticeable hesitation. “It gets worse after the halfway point, right?”

“Have you been Googling heats?” At any other time you would have taken a mocking tone, but you were too exhausted and overwhelmed to even think about it.

With Bucky so close, you found it harder to control your baser desires, the omega part of you that craved an alpha, that craved him. But Bucky didn’t even seem to notice.

“Yeah, I -” he let out an awkward sigh, “- I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before and I know last night wasn’t... I mean, I know you didn’t...”

Not wanting to watch him struggle, you decided to put him out of his misery and move the conversation along, if only because talking was better than thinking and you needed something to keep your mind from straying too far.

“You’ve never had an omega before?” You asked.

“Not... not like this,” he said but didn’t go into any detail about what that meant. “In the decades that I was with Hydra, they mostly kept me on ice, and I didn’t exactly get to meet anyone.”

Silence fell and he moved, lifting himself onto his knees and turning to face you. Before you could ask what he was doing, you saw him reaching for the bowl of water and the washcloth. He gently pressed it to your burning cheeks and, for a few minutes he seemed content to remain silent, but it didn’t last.

“It’s because of the suppressants, isn’t it? That’s why it’s so bad,” he asked, and you confirmed his suspicions with little more than a glance. “Why did you take them for so long?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Because being an omega fucking sucks,” you said with a sigh. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to feel weak and helpless all the time? To have people look at you like you only exist for a single purpose?”

He took an awkward breath, then answered. “More than you know.”

For a moment you considered his words, considered the implications. He’d been a killer, Hydra’s attack dog, only ever let off-leash when he was needed to kill someone. It had been his life, his purpose. The sense of understanding you felt was uncomfortable, further confusing how you felt about him. And you hated it. You didn’t want to feel sorry for him, you didn’t want to feel anything at all.

“At least you’re an alpha,” you said grimly, “you get to fuck instead of being fucked.”

“It still doesn't explain the suppressants.”

“I started taking them because I didn’t want to get stuck being some alpha’s omega again...”

“Wait...” it took a second but he finally seemed to start putting it together. “You and Rumlow?”

You gave only the slightest of nods. Bucky didn’t say anything, but his silence made it obvious that he wanted you to explain.

“I was trying to track you down the Winter Soldier. I didn’t realise he was Hydra when I tried to buy information from him.” You couldn’t look at Bucky as you spoke, as the anger started to slip into your voice. “He promised he would help me, he took me in and - I was young and stupid, and by the time I realised I was trapped, it was too late. He wanted to claim me, but I rejected him, so he did the next best thing and kept me...”

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his vibranium hand curling into a tight fist.

“He disappeared in the blip and I got away. Since then I’ve done everything I can to present as a beta.”

“Why is he after you now?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know. I guess when you were looking into me, it must have flagged something somewhere, and he came looking,” you answered, feeling your stomach knot at the thought. “Brock, he - he doesn’t like to lose and he doesn’t like to be told no. He thinks I’m his...”

“Well, he’s not getting you back,” Bucky stated with an angry certainty that you didn’t understand.

You looked at him, not sure you wanted to ask and, by the time you’d decided that you probably should, it was too late. He got to his feet and headed for the door, telling you to shout if you needed anything.

For a time you just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything that had happened, everything that was still happening.

You had wanted Bucky to suffer for killing your brother, but you wanted to be the cause of that suffering, not his own remorse over his actions. And, again, you found yourself thinking back to your conversation with Sam, the way you’d had to concede that it hadn’t even been Bucky who killed your brother.

Round and round, there was no escaping all the thoughts and questions in your head, all the things that made you angry and the things you couldn’t control.

And, soon enough, it became hard to think about anything but the torture your own body was putting you through. Your temperature started to rise again and you squirmed awkwardly, pressing your thighs together, slick starting to soak through your underwear.

Then you remembered the bags by the bedroom door, the clean clothes Sam had brought for you.

On shaky legs you made your way out of the bedroom, expecting to find Bucky on the sofa but, instead, you could hear the shower running again - why was he showering again? The thought quickly left your mind as you started rummaging through the bags. One bag was filled with womens clothes and the other -

Fuck.

The backpack was basically a bio-weapon, filled with Bucky’s clothes, shirts and sweatpants that hadn’t been laundered. And, before you knew what you were doing, you’d taken one of his shirts and were heading back to your nest with it, not thinking to close the bedroom door behind you, suddenly consumed by your baser urges.

Falling onto the bed, you pressed his shirt to your nose and inhaled his scent.

You hated yourself for how much you craved him, how much you wanted to be wrapped up in his scent, in him. You twitched and squirmed, that awful, longing ache burning through you again. It wasn’t long before your hand was reaching between your thighs and soft whines started to escape you.

At some point the shower stopped, and your eyes opened to find Bucky in the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel slung low around his waist, his eyes fixed on you. Just the sight of his exposed chest and abs, still damp from the shower, was enough to cause a dramatic spike in your arousal.

Despite your embarrassment, your hand kept moving, fingers strumming your clit through your slick-soaked panties while you held his shirt to your nose. And Bucky watched.

“Bucky...”

That moan was all the invitation he needed to cross the room. Even as he came to stand over you, your fingers didn’t stop, in fact they got faster, desperate. More little whimpers and moans escaped you, but he didn’t touch you, didn’t attempt to give you what you needed, what you craved. He just watched and his gaze alone was all it took to break your resolve.

“Please?” You finally begged.

“You sure you want my help again, little mouse?”

You nodded. Despite everything you’d told him after the last time, you nodded. Desperately. Enthusiastically.

Bucky didn’t need any more than that, climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your legs. His hands felt cold as they slipped up your thighs to pull away your wet panties. (Somewhere in the back of your mind you realised he’d been having a cold shower, but in your needy, muddled state, you couldn’t understand why.)

Without hesitation or ceremony, a cold metal finger ran through your folds before sinking inside you, moving slowly, as if he thought you needed warming up.

Your head dropped back on the pillow and your hips started to move against his hand, desperate for more. You were so caught up in the feeling, in the need for more, for everything, that you didn’t realise he’d lowered his head until you felt his heavy breath against your inner thigh and you felt the slow drag of his tongue over your thigh gland.

A desperate moan tore from your lips, your eyes opened and you looked down to see him between your legs. The sight alone was enough to cause you to clench around his finger and leave you on the precipice of orgasm.

Without thinking, your hand reached for him, tangling in his hair. His eyes stayed fixed on yours as his tongue ran along your gland again, this time licking higher, groaning against your skin, letting out sounds that made it seem like he was the one in need instead of you.

You jolted, back arching the moment his tongue found your clit. His free hand pressed on your stomach, pinning you down while his vibranium hand continued to slowly fuck you with a deliberately teasing pace. His tongue moved just as slowly, causing you to whimper and keen, your fingers tightening in his hair, trying to pull him closer.

The pressure built up in you slowly and the sounds you were making got more desperate and eager.

You just about screamed when he started to suck your clit and bent his finger inside you, finding that sensitive spot, causing you to come almost instantly. As you trembled and shuddered, your hand reached for his hand on your stomach and pulled it upwards, pushing up your baggy tee-shirt and placing it on your breast. Your other hand remained in his hair, holding tight, ensuring that his head stayed between your thighs.

He stilled for a few moments, letting you ride out one orgasm before starting to lead you towards the next. A second cold, metal finger slid inside you with ease, your back arching a little, your own fingers twisting in his hair and tugging harder.

You’d told him never again, but after the second orgasm pulled from you by his fingers and his tongue, some part of you knew you wouldn’t survive if you never got to experience this bliss again.

After the third orgasm, he finally lifted his head and slowly started to move up your body, and you let him. No, you encouraged him, tugging on his hair until his face was only inches from yours. You both hesitated as he looked down at you, his fingers still fucking you at that delicious pace.

“It’s just biology,” he muttered softly, as if he was giving both of you permission to give in to each other.

Finally, you lifted your head, your lips clumsily crashing into his and igniting a desperate kiss that seemed to go on and on, until a final fourth orgasm was pulled from you. Even then, as his fingers stilled and finally slipped from your trembling body, his lips lingered against yours, and your fingers remained tangled in his hair

When your body slumped back, exhausted, Bucky remained above you for a few moments more before finally withdrawing, getting up and leaving the room, and leaving you more confused than ever. But at least some of the pain had subsided. He wasn’t gone for long.

After a few minutes he returned fully dressed and with two plates, each with a slice of pie.

He placed one on the bed beside you before sitting back down on the floor next to your bed. Despite what you’d just done, now that it was over, he seemed to want to maintain a polite distance.

“Gracie’s apple pie?” You muttered, tired but definitely hungry enough to eat.

Bucky gave a hum of acknowledgement. “She said it was your favourite.”

You fell silent, staring at the pie, thinking about the life you could have had; the murder plot aside, you’d liked working at Gracie’s and you liked the friends you’d made. But it was all gone now. You couldn’t go back and tell them you’d been lying to them about who you were just to get close to Bucky.

You were going to be alone again.

And that thought hurt.

“At least I get to have it one last time,” you muttered as you sat back against the headboard and started to eat.

“Last time?” He repeated, confused.

“It’s not like I can go back after... y’know all the lies and everything,” you said.

“I think they’d be a lot more understanding than you think,” he offered through a mouthful of pie.

“Right, I’ll just come out and tell them that the sweet little omega act was all a lie, and I was only being nice to them so I could get close enough to kill you,” you retorted.

Honestly, you might have laughed if it hadn’t made you feel so pathetic and alone.

“Sometimes people are willing to forgive a lot if you apologise,” Bucky shrugged.

You weren’t sure if he was suggesting that you should forgive him or trying to let you know that he’d already forgiven you. You didn’t ask. Both of you fell silent while you ate. And, not long after finishing, you managed to fall asleep again.

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

The sound of muttering woke you up. You quickly realised that it was Bucky. He was laid on the floor in his boxers with nothing but a pillow for comfort, thrashing and grumbling in his sleep, obviously having a nightmare. He must have decided to sleep on the floor to be close in case you needed him in the night and - fuck, you didn’t even want to think about how that made you feel.

All you knew for certain - all you were willing to admit - was that you hated seeing him like that. As someone who knew what it was like to be plagued by nightmares, you wouldn’t have wished it on your worst enemy.

You half-fell out of bed, landing on your hands and knees, before slumping down beside him. Moving closer, you pressed yourself into his side and draped your arm over his body, your face against his neck, nose inches from his gland.

He quickly stilled and you heard a sharp inhale as he woke up.

“What -” he started, sounding exhausted and confused.

“Shut up,” you half-demanded, half-begged, not wanting to explain it to him.

He didn’t say anything else. A moment later, his arm was around you, pulling you closer. Instinctively, your leg moved over his thigh, tangling your bodies together. His hand pressed against your cheek for a moment before brushing your hair away from your face.

“You’re burning up,” Bucky muttered, “do you need -”

“No, just - just don’t move,” you whined, wanting to hold him, wanting to feel safe in his arms even though you knew it was the most dangerous place for you. “Just... please don’t move.”

“Okay, mouse...” he muttered softly, shifting just a fraction so you could share his pillow.

Slowly but surely, you felt him relax and, as he did, you did too, shifting closer so his thigh was pressed between yours. Right then, you didn’t need or want more than that, you were content just feeling his body against yours.

But, like every other still moment that you’d managed to find during your heat so far, it didn’t last.

After a few hours you woke to that awful, cramping sensation in your stomach. He was still sleeping, still holding you so tight, and you didn’t want to wake him but his thigh between yours became impossible to ignore. You started to move slowly, grinding yourself against him, slick quickly soaking your panties and his thigh. At first you tried to be gentle, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t what you needed.

Bucky woke to find you desperately grinding against his thigh like a feral, horny animal. If you hadn’t felt so desperate, you would have felt your cheeks burning with shame. But you were desperate and you needed something to stop the pain. You needed him.

He didn’t speak, didn’t ask what you were doing, he just pressed his thigh against you and turned his head toward yours. As your head fell back, his lips pressed to your throat, kissing, licking and sucking their way towards your gland, and causing you to let out a desperate moan.

You pressed closer still, until the only way you could get close enough was to straddle his lap. You weren’t shocked to find that he was hard - it barely even crossed your mind, too deep in your own desperate needs to think straight anymore. His hips lifted, pressing against you as you both started to move, each of you seeking something from the other as you slick quickly soaked through your panties and began to wet his boxers.

Leaning back, you pulled off your top and led his vibranium hand to your breast, moaning as a cold metal thumb brushed against your nipple. You kept him trapped beneath you, your hands on his chest, holding him down, as if you really thought that you could restrain him. But Bucky let you, he stayed exactly where you wanted him, letting you take what you needed from him.

Your moans got wilder and more desperate, his name slipping from your lips over and over again as you neared orgasm. His flesh hand gripped your hip as he continued to grind up against you, letting out little grunt and groans of his own as he stared up at you through the gloom.

As you came you felt his cock twitch between your thighs and heard his own gasped moan, and you realised that he’d come too.

You collapsed on top of him, your body trembling from your release, slick now coating your thighs and his, and something else, something soaking through Bucky’s boxers. Sprawled against his chest, you buried your face against his neck, breathing in his scent, and clinging to him, not willing to let go. Bucky’s arms wrapped tight around you, holding you as you shook and shivered, and finally fell asleep again.

End Note : Anyone who doesn't read my Billy Russo fics, and didn't see me mention it there, I just want to give a heads up that I broke a key off my laptop (the T key for anyone interested) so I'm having to use a laggy bluetooth keyboard to write atm. Sorry if any weird typos have slipped through, it's probably because of the keyboard. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter!!

And thanks so much for the likes/comments/reblogs on the last chapter, it really means a lot to me!

If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, let me know!

Tag List : @greatenthusiasttidalwave @bighappypiels @maddiedrmr @dreadfulxives18 @scott-loki-barnes

@thecraziestcrayon @silas-aeiou @danzer8705 @notpotatocap

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #alpha!bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #marvel omegaverse #tfatws #devotion ff #bucky barnes fanfiction

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pleasantspark · 1 day

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Dissecting the Inconsistencies in Poison (Commentary)

For some fucking reason despite this song intending to be Anti-Rape and Blake trying to be the next Michael Kovich with him trying so hard to sound like him, the song makes me think it's Pro-Rape.

I'm not above a love to cash in Another lover underneath those flashin' lights Another one of those ruthless nights Yeah, yeah, yeah

In this verse, Angel Dust is talking about his work as being a Porn Star, and how he spends time under the spotlight recording with strangers "Another lover" implies there's more than one each night.

I shoulda' guessed that this would happen I shoulda' known it when I looked in your red-hot eyes Spewin' all your red-hot lies Yeah, yeah, yeah

In this verse, he laments on how he should have guessed what had happened, and how he should have known it by telling from a red flag via Valentino. Red hot lies are also referring to manipulation.

What's the worst part of this hell? I can only blame myself

He blames himself for ending up in this Hell.

'Cause I know you're poison You're feedin' me poison Addicted to this feelin', I can't help but swallow Up your poison I made my choice, and Every night I'm livin' like there's no tomorrow

This verse conflicts me, on one hand, he's accepting of the poison and refusing the much needed help, and I am pretty sure Val isn't actively trying to isolate him from anyone else, which makes him less of a threat and all of his threats have to do with something related to making Angel Dust fuck other people. And most of the threats sound so goofy that it makes me wanna fucking cringe.

He's talking about how he has no choice but to accept the poison I get it, he's a victim but the thing is about Angel Dust as a whole is, that the song is not even representive of the fact this guy is a victim of SA, rather he's depicted as enjoying it and doing all this.

Oh-oh, oh-oh Any way you want me, baby That's the way you got me, I'll be yours My story's gonna end with me dead from your poison

Most of the time, I believe he finds himself in a place where he is trapped, although there's tons of people who he cares about. The best part of a character arc for him would technically be Angel Dust being led to believe most of the people in the Hotel were "using him" and that he is forced to stay with Val until he is showed that people care about him.

I got so good at bein' untrue I got so good at tellin' you what you wanna hear I disassociate, disappear Yeah, yeah, yeah So far beyond difficult to resist another gulp

In this verse, he is completely talking about losing himself, and falling into the gulp of Val's poison. Which we don't see any of.

Yeah, I know it's poison You're feedin' me poison I'm chokin' from the taste and I can't help but swallow Up your poison I made my choice, and Every night I'm wasted like there's no tomorrow Oh-oh, oh-oh Any way you want me, baby That's the way you got me, I'll be yours My story's gonna end with me dead from your poison Poison, I'm drownin' in poison I'm fillin' up my glass but it's always hollow Full of poison, I'm sick of the poison Wish I had something to live for tomorrow…

And it ends with him having a (semi) realistic panic attack to distract us from the fact that Angel Dust deadass sang a Love Song about his abuser.

This is a Pop Song.

I feel like making a song about anti-rape SHOULDN'T be something like Pop, it's too cheerful and makes it insensitive. I feel like something on the level of Nirvana can actually work out.

In Conclusion, while Poison is catchy, it's NOT a good song at all, and gives me mixed signals. Compared to Addict its a complete downgrade of it, beyond the vocals and lyrics. No 8 year old should be listening to this, and no one should "Cum" to the visuals VivziePop.

#helluva boss #helluva boss critical #vivziepop critical #vivziepop #vivziepop criticism #helluva boss criticism #anti-vivziepop #helluva boss critique #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel #. 💞 ; txt

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like-yknow-nyah · 1 day

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you know what isn't appreciated enough? the ways in which tsukishima takes after sugawara senpai~

it's not really emphasized by the framing of the anime like other character dynamics, but there are some pretty consistent tell-tale throughlines that hint at how much tsukki respects him. the obvious start is that tsukki never sasses or talks back to suga - sure, this is generally pretty true of all the third years, but i think he seems especially yielding to suga. suga even gets to hit him and mess up his hair, and tsukki will respond to him with reserved frustration but none of his usual irony - at worst, a very earnest "could you please stop?" he certainly has thoughts about it, but he actually exhibits resraint with that sharp tongue of his lolol i have to wonder if he holds back because suga somewhat reminds him of akiteru, who plays a similar role of being supportive, guiding, and sincere.

as for volleyball, we see from the get-go whenever he steps on the court that suga is actually a very intellectual player. he keeps a keen eye on where everyone is on the court, measuring where their strengths and weaknesses are, so that even if he doesn't have hinata's attack speed, kageyama's precision, or tsukki's high blocks, he can pinpoint the exact weak spot that only needs that little push to come apart. and then he tugs on that thread to see how much of the enemy team's formation he can unravel. his strategy is consistently on point, not unlike the play style we see tsukishima adopt as he grows out of his shell.

and i'm sure that's partially just because they happen to have a natural inclination toward the mental game of volleyball. but there are also very specific on-court habits that appear to be directly modeled after suga. the first time we get to really see suga's strength in action in s1, he's running all over his team's side of the court saying "hey you, come here, i have an idea," integrating each and every member of the team in the way that best suits their abilities. the play suga specifically asked tsukki to try is the strategic blocker switch. tsukki even tries to give him his due credit for a well-called play, but suga explains it like it's actually a really easy call to make. it's not really shown, but i do genuinely think something clicked into place for tsukki that expanded the ways he can read the court.

by season 2, tsukki is using a very similar thought process to predict where kyotani will hit and do the blocker switch with tanaka. and i don't think it's a coincidence that this is during their rematch with seijoh, the team against whom suga originally deployed this strategy.

we see tsukishima further mirror suga's play style (albeit adapted to the position of a blocker) in s3 as he becomes more confident and comfortable with his role in the team and on the court. he begins to take the initiative to conceptualize plays to share with his teammates, walking up to them individually like "ちょっと..." and asking if the team would trust him to make certain calls.

it's these little moments of behavior borrowed from suga that open tsukishima up to his teammates, especially his fellow first-years, and become that first cornerstone upon which they build up to a near-blind trust in each other throughout s4. the only one on karasuno aside from tsukki and suga who even sometimes makes these kinds of plays is kageyama, who is more directly suga's mentee by position, but arguably takes after him less than tsukishima does.

#haikyuu #sugawara koushi #tsukishima kei

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iridescent-solstice · 17 hours

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Fic 1/2 made for the amazing @cinsilly for winning this contest I hosted a while back. I hope you like it and also thank you for participating in my silly little shenanigans. If I did my job right, hopefully you’ll join future events too! 🙆🏻‍♀️

The candle by his side burns faithfully as Julian leans over his cluttered desk. Wispy strands of his ginger hair wave back and forth as he grumbles in frustration. With an aching back and cramped wrists, his sleep deprived mind urges him to take a break.

But he won't. Because there is much to be done. Far too much.

He chides himself internally for not working enough. For not being fast enough. Because, despite the countless hours he’s spent here, there are still too many old journals to comb through. Too many documents he’s scribbled and had to scrap or re-read. He's frustrated. Tired. Hungry and extremely worried for all the people out there in worst conditions than he is. The physical states of those already infected aren't getting much better, and the count's temper is only getting worse. "DAMMIT WHY IS NOTHING WORKING!" He curses slamming his fist down on the poor table. It's like he's walking around in endless circles, isn't he? There has to be a cure! He chants in his head. With a library as huge as this, there must be something here about a plague spreading by beetles.

It’s almost beginning to feel like he’s drowning in pile and piles of unending assigned reading. Even with an apprentice, there’s still so much he has to do. If he doesn’t . . . No. Julian shakes the thoughts away. He doesn’t want to think about those consequences. Finding the cure is too vital a task to slack on. And he won't discover it if he spends all his time wondering about what will happen if he doesn't manage to uncover it. He can do it . . . Well, even if he couldn’t, there are too many people's lives at stake to not try his darn hardest. Too people relying on him. The countess. The citizens of Versuvia. The count. But most importantly . . . his apprentice is counting on him too. So, he has to find a cure. No.matter.what.the.cost.

Books, letters, documents and other knick knacks are sprawled all over the cinnamon-coloured table. But the mess inside his head is even worse than the one infront of him. A looming giant window behind him gives a glimpse into the internal state of the city. Cold, dark, deserted and in complete disarray. The normal hustle and bustle is no longer as usual as it once used to be. You’d be lucky if you saw a single person in sight. Not anymore though. They’re all hiding away inside their homes. He has no doubt that you would be too if you gave yourself the luxury too.

But he’s glad you haven’t taken that liberty. That you care enough to stay by his side. To risk your life. He has no idea how he'd do this without you. Throughout all his travels at sea, he's spent a great deal of his time alone. But he doesn't think he could ever go back to that lifestyle anymore. He needs you.

He needs you to check up on him. To hold his hand and cheerfully tell him everything will be alright again. To not give up. He nee- No he wants you. Wants you to sit suspiciously close by as he navigates the medical forms. While he relays the important findings he just discovered. As he flips through the records. Patient after patient, case after case. It’s almost too much, but he knows he can handle it. With you by his side, he’s sure he can handle anything. Fatigued eyes search all over the table but his thoughts wander to you again. Like they always do when he’s stressed out. Are you hunched over a desk like he is? Huddled up in your shop researching old tomes? He wonders if you think about him too. He wonders if you miss his company as much as he misses yours. He can’t imagine those talking books to be good company.

[ ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ: @/fairytopea]

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charmac · 1 day

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Do you think Rob's gonna eventually go down for dumb straight white male bs? ngl going off his vibes, some of the things he says, and the occasional random tweet/reddit comment from people that say they have worked with or met him....I can't say I would be surprised, but idk. There's been no official statement against him from anybody yet, so I'll hold off actual judgment until then. But the DEI comment and the "everyone is lucky that's all I want to say" part ....yikes

I think it's plausible considering all his past controversies and continued stupid BS very much comes from the fact that he can't recognise his position in Hollywood is very much built off his privilege as a straight white man, but the thing about Rob being called out is that someone has to actually have the power to do it.

It's one thing to see tweets making it clear Rob is probably a shitty boss who acts from a position of white male privilege (and has no idea how to run all of these stupid businesses he's trying to capitalise on), but I don't see anyone who quit working for Rob calling him out any further than airing grievances. Unless something major happens publicly, trying to take down someone with his status would not be worth the career jeopardy that might create minor tabloid buzz. (But who knows, maybe if he and Ryan Reynolds break up something comes out /j)

I feel bad for Brittani for sure, I can't help imagine what it must have been like to have Rob "didn't care about my public image until 5 years ago" McElhenney directing you to control everything that gets posted about him online and micromanaging all his own content. That's gotta be like one of the worst jobs to exist. (And thankfully it seems like she got herself out of there and is onwards and upwards!)

(Honestly my main theory as to why TASP isn't happening anymore is because Rob just can't filter himself and was sick of having to deal with all the buzz and articles random stupid things he said on the podcast would generate online.)

#it seems rob is a good boss to frat bro types and that's about it lmfao #glad we confirmed Sunny was on Meg's side in no bad blood before all this came out honestly #i have heard the set of sunny is a great workplace environment regardless #but still this is like. christ dude.#rob mcelhenney #ask

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mercless · 3 days

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@windchaser requested I fill out a relations meme for high noon yone from talon's perspective, and I am nothing if not indulgent. and then I went and found the original post...

Attractiveness:

repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words

Let it be known that Talon will be the first creature to point out Yone's flaws after himself but we'll work on that but there's really nothing they can poke at with his looks, besides the undead elephant in the room. Even then though, 'lookin' good for a corpse' can easily be a backhanded compliment spun a hundred annoying ways. I'm not 100% certain on how you portray how Yone's spirit appears, but it is certainly a frightful thing to see. Demons are known to be afraid of gunslinger's, but usually not like this...

Personality:

grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward || unreasonable || psychotic || disturbing || interesting || engaging || affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered || bossy || charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous || dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted || egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive || intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming || badass || flexible

Drags claws down face. This son of a nice lady. Talon has seen many cowboys like Yone; Selfless, determined, stuck in their moral code like tar to a feather, standing up for what they believe is right! The other thing they all have in common is being gone well before their time, y'know. Not everyone gets to stick around past that deciding incident, and have a chance for their one-pure heart to begin rotting. It's the kind of thing to draw in the worst sorts from everywhere, to prod and poke at the soft parts to see what snaps, and what withers away faster. It's a relief Yone only keeps good company.

How likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having sex

I can only picture them posing in the background of Yone's reaction to this question, a shit-eating grin and a raised brow. You're kidding, right?

Level of Friendship:

never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends (in denial) || good friends (huh...) || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person (and denying it in unison) || would die for them (later on- wait what?!) || true friends || my only friend

Talon hasn't had a real friend before, not ones that are or were mortal anyway. They definitely have 'friends' that can fight and most likely best them, though. All to say, they're not exactly good at this whole new thing. Best if they both keep their distance and try to get this quest of theirs over and done with as quickly as possible to go back to tormenting and threatening to kill the other, respectively. Or fail and then it's over, too.

First impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird (fascinated) || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them (derogatory) || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool (derogatory) || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them (derogatory!) || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

Steeples my fingers evilly. Oh, that Crossroads Saloon is full of entertainment, so kind of the old barkeep to set something up tailor-made for their enjoyment. A twisted soul like his is a rare sight, even for their ancient eyes. Sorry Yone, it's just their nature to cause a little trouble. Think of it as a little taste of what's to come... afterwards.

Current impression of them:

I hate them so much (affectionate...) || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird (still fascinated) || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them (shh) || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

It's a full-time job, being a gunslinger's biggest annoyance and also a supportive shoulder for him to lean on. It seems fitting that the cursed cowboy gets a guardian angel that only fits the role on a technicality. Talon's still afraid of him and his promise before their truce. But not as much as their growing care for him.

How good of a kisser:

worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || makes me moan || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed

Even if it's walking around, mighty strange to kiss a corpse...

A little something for the little witch;

Attractiveness:

Talon rarely sees young people like her, or any younger. It's like a 'oh, right!' reminder to their existence. That despite it all, life miraculously continues on. Her naivety and wide-eye reaction to new experiences are cute, plain and simple. But beyond that her looks are not at the forefront of the demon's mind, usually preoccupied with her latest question, or admiring her metalwork and wondering if they can ask their own questions about it.

Personality:

As much as the thought of being asked countless questions sounds irritating, Talon just cannot find it in their black-ichor heart for Rell to be annoying with her endless quest of learning. It makes it difficult to keep things under wraps they would otherwise keep close and hidden. They like hearing her own ideas too, finding this strange place where... they choose to carry a conversation with her about their findings and theories. And although she's young and inexperienced, Rell is still very powerful with her magic and raw talent. This all makes Talon uncomfortable, in how easy it is for them to get along...

How likely they would have sex with them:

Just no. there are better things in life Talon can waste their time doing than calculating how many times over they are older than the young witch. But please, ask them for more advice on romance, and heed it well; a blade from a place of love has a lot of mean- wait where are you going?

Level of Friendship:

never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends (?) || my only friend

Head in hands none of you (the two of them) will ever understand what it's like to be a thing made of evil and then care for another creature's wellbeing. This is worse than Talon's fear that one day they'll be hunted down by the powder witch and the haunted gunslinger because unlike that, this care is a new feeling. It doesn't need to be said, but Rell is the first Talon considers a real friend. They don't care to ask if the feeling is mutual.

First impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

First introductions could have been far smoother without someone interrupting, but regardless, the girl has a sensible, if cross, head on her shoulders. And Talon can respect it. Whether this was before or after Yone's influence, they cannot tell, but it is still there in subtle ways. She certainly takes their journey down a different path than the demon was expecting, but they're more concerned about how her inclusion makes the gunslinger even more difficult to maneuver around. They can totally be trusted to ride Sebastian, though. It's a long, rough road by foot...

Current impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them (platonically, in a carer way...) || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

How good of a kisser:

there's gotta be better ways to practice romantic techniques out on the range. But if you're ready to listen to more romantic advice-

rating meme

#‡ ooc #‡ the end is comin' for us all | high noon #windchaser #floods the dash with cowboy content ig #yeehaw's for as long as it takes for this post to be read #my first time using coloured text because otherwise i was getting lost...#im not proofreading this i believe everything is correct 🙏 feel free to ask/ramble etc ehe #long post /

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