#oh the black fireproofs

[writingstoraes]

like i honestly feel faint cause LOOK AT HIM

[artemispt]

[leclercskiesahead]

Carlos karting earlier this month

[uluvjay]

Hiiii

I absolutelyfucking love your Max Verstappen x innocent Horner! reader fic so please m here for another

What if reader had a purity ring and after they do it he slides it off her finger and makes it a necklace for himself. Horner would be mad. But glad that it was him than anyone else

Sending positive vibes

Max Verstappen x Horner daughter!

Warnings?; mentions to sex, cursing, kissing, probably some errors

Au masterlist!

“Darling where’s your ring?” You father asks picking up your hand to analyze the tanned finger with a pale line showcasing where the small band usually sits.

“My ring?” You question looking down the your hand as well.

“Shit, where’s my ring?” You panic trying to think about where it could have gone.

“Why would you take it off? Have you been seeing someone?” He questions you, bright eyes searching your face for answers to his questions.

“Of course not” you lie straight through your teeth, you had been seeming someone but your father didn’t need to know that it was his star driver that was fucking you silly every night.

“Then what happened to it?”

The question has you thinking back to the night before, Max had been teasing you about it stating there was no reason for you to keep the purity ring on when he’d already defiled you multiple times.

Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath after coming down from yet another orgasm. Max had laid beside you, one of his large hands holding your left hand in it as he spun the small golden band around.

“Why do you still wear this?” He questioned quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Well it signifies purity right? Like you were supposed to wear it till marriage and when you lost your virginity?” He continued

“Yeah so?”

“So? Schat I took your virginity a long time ago, your far from pure now” he laughed looking at you with bright eyes.

A bright blush took over your cheeks at his words but part of you was to tired to get into the full details about why you chose to still wear it and just settled with a simple “It was a gift from my father and he’d lose his mind if he saw me without it” before sleep overtook and you were out cold while cuddled into Max’s side.

However what you didn’t see or feel was max slipping the delicate band off your finger and onto his chain that rested on the nightstand next to him.

You thought back to this morning and how you over slept leaving you with little time to get dressed and be at the track in time for qualifying, the busy morning not allowing you to notice your missing ring.

“I-i’m not sure, I guess I took it off before bed?” You stated but it sounded more like a question.

Your father opened his mouth to speak but he was cut off by the sight of Max’s car being brought back into the garage not having realized qualifying had ended and Max has once again securing pole position.

You watched as the Dutchman exited the car, pulling off his helmet and black balaclava revealing his messy and damp locks.

His eyes met yours and he shot you a sneaky wink before making way to your father for a small hug and congratulations.

You blushed at the closeness of his large body beside yours, watching as he undid the Velcro of his racing suit and pulled it down to hang around his waist.

However once his dark fireproof was revealed you couldn’t help but notice the outline of something underneath.

The imprint of his chain was there as it should be however you saw something attached to it but before you could connect the dots, the voice of your stepmother cut you off.

“Max did you get a charm for your chain?” Geri questioned causing all eyes to turn to the blonde man; including your fathers.

“Oh yes, beautiful isn’t it?” He smirked as he pulled the chain from underneath his top.

You felt the world stop as you saw your ring resting on the chain, the ring you had just told your father that you couldn’t place, the ring that was meant to signify purity, the ring that should not have been around Max Verstappen’s neck.

Christians eyes shot from the band hanging around the chain to your face that was now covered by shaky hands and the blank and unbothered face of his star driver.

“My office now. Both of you.” He demanded

Shutting the door behind himself Christian paced back and forth, he wasn’t sure what exactly it was that he was feeling.

Anger? Check, confusion? Check, shock? Double check.

“What the hell is going on between you two? And why in the fuck does max have your ring around a chain?” He asked, hands taking place on his hips.

“I-uh, we” you started but the man beside you cut you off.

“We’ve been seeing each other for awhile now, just a little under a year” max spoke in a soft tone.

“I’m sorry a year?” Your father exclaimed at the confession.

“Yes” you and max both answered at the same time.

“And I can assume you were the one to deflower my child?”

“Dad!”

“No you don’t get to ‘dad’ me right now young lady, answer the question max”

“Uh yes” max blushed at Christian’s words.

“God, fuck at least it was Max and not some college guy” he spoke in relief.

“So your okay with us being together?” You asked quietly, unconsciously moving closer to Max.

“I am but no snogging or anything gross around me” he shivered at the thought.

“I promise, thank you” you smiled as you made your way to him and pulled him into a hug.

“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy darling” he replied as he placed a sweet kiss to your head.

With a sweet smile you made your way back towards max, taking a hand in his and pulling him out of the room.

But before you could fully exit your father’s voice stopped max in his tracks.

“Take care of my little girl max!”

“Always sir” he smiled at his boss before following behind your bouncing frame, a content smile on his face at the feeling of your hand in his and the sight of your pretty bow he’d gotten that sat perfectly in your hair.

Finally making it into his drivers room he pulled you in for a breathtaking kiss, the feeling of his warm lips so familiar and comforting.

His hands sank down to rest on your ass while yours slipped into his still damp hair, tugging on it when he slipped his tongue into your mouth-immediately taking dominance.

Pulling away for air his face held a smirk at the sight of your already blown out eyes and flushed face.

“I love you” he spoke running a finger over your cheek.

“I love you to” you smiled, pulling the blonde back down for another hot kiss.

-

[unsolvedjarin]

THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY…

pairing: (fernando alonso x wolff! reader)

note: is my first ever work on this site smut? yes. do i happen to not know how to write smut? yes. is this my first time writing smut? yes. is this a bad idea? probably. but we move.

content warning: oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, verb tenses jumping like frogs in lakes

“And Fernando Alonso crosses the finish line in the Bahrain Grand Prix, ending up 4th! Not bad considering the Spaniards track record recently.” You hear the reporters comment, but it’s a distant noise. Fernando finally got out of the midfield fluke he and Aston Martin was having, and you couldn’t be more happy for your partner.

He, however, was even more enthusiastic than you. After smiling through the media pen, he rushes over to your motorhome where he knew you would be waiting for him. Meeting anywhere but your own places was too risky with the media being everywhere, and you weren’t ready to tell your dad just yet about Fernando. He completely understood of course, the age gap was something he knew your dad would take a long long while to warm up to.

He knocked 5 times on your door in a happy beat, before you answered it with a smile and letting him in wordlessly, noticing his good spirits. You were about to congratulate him on his good results, but the second you turnt around you felt his lips on yours and his hands on your body.

You indulge yourself in his taste for a second before, “Fernando we couldn’t possibly—”

He kisses your words away before you finish your sentence, one of his hands moving to your cheek and another still on your waist. Having sex in your Mercedes motorhome would not be an easy thing to achieve, but by god will Fernando achieve it.

He was kissing down your neck before you could protest again, his left hand moving from your waist down to the inside of your pants, fingers hovering just over your panties. Your back was to the wall of the motorhome, and you swear if he pushed you a little bit more the whole place would come tumbling over.

The feeling of his fingers ghosting over your pussy was enough to knock all your senses out of you, however, and you kissed him back fervently as he suddenly pushed his digits into you, making you stifle your moan into his neck.

“Nando we really shouldn’t, my dad— ah— will come in any minute now— fuck right there— shouting profanities at no one in particular because Lewis and George double dnf’ed. You know we’re— oh my fucking god— gonna get caught.”

He suddenly takes his fingers out of you and you groan in displeasure.

“If you’re so worried about getting caught, why don’t we just stop?” He whispers in your ear with a teasing tone. The bastard.

“Asshole,” You reply, kissing him again and pushing him backwards until he’s sat on your couch. Proceeding to straddle him, you take your hand to his racing suit, gliding your fingers delicately from his chest all the way down to his cock, feeling the bulge so evident in his pants. “Or maybe,” you ponder, “we do stop, and your little guy doesn’t get any attention.”

“Please don’t call my dick little guy, mi amor,” he replies jokingly before pulling your Mercedes shirt up, kissing your chest while you grind down on him. “Always so pretty for me. I need more.”

In a second, he flips you over like you weighed nothing and laid you down on the couch, tugging your pants off of you as slowly as he could.

“Nando I swear to god, you better stop fucking teasing me,” you tell him, impatient. He chuckles before leaning back up to kiss you, then slowly making his way down your chest, taking your bra off effortlessly before moving down again to actually take off your pants, leaving you with nothing but your panties on.

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair that I’m the only one naked here?” You ask him, but with no accusation— he looked sexy in his black fireproofs. He kisses your inner thigh, a sight that would’ve brought any woman to their knees, before replying, “Relax, amor. I want to take care of you first, spread your legs wider.”

You follow his instructions with a hazy mind, not in the mood for any foreplay. Fernando takes your panties off slowly, kissing your leg as it goes along. He’s taking his time, he knows it’s making you want him even more.

“Look how wet you are for me, corazón,” he murmurs, pressing a swift teasing kiss on your clit. The action was enough for you to buck your hips lightly onto his nose, before he takes the bait and fully puts his mouth on your pussy, and begins to eat you out.

He moves like a man starved, holding onto your waist to take you even deeper in his mouth as if he wasn’t already. You try to stifle your moans with your hand to no avail, putting the other one in Fernando’s hair and pulling on it, eliciting a deep groan from him that vibrated up your pussy.

“Just like that— god baby you’re so good— more,” you whine, grinding on his face. He moves his tongue around your folds, making sure his nose bumps your clit every so often to hear you moan even louder.

You throw more endless praises in his direction, “Oh my god, I can’t— you’re so fucking good— I’m gonna cum soon baby,” you moan out, unable to control your volume any longer. Passerbys outside be damned. You feel him speed up at your words, focusing on your clit and inserting two fingers into you to help, making you whine even more.

“I fucking love you Nando, I’m so close—” you mumble, gripping his hair even tighter.

“I love you more corazón, being so good for me,” he murmurs near your folds, the vibration making you moan again. He attaches his mouth back on your clit, and the feeling of his beard is starting to burn but you don’t care, it makes you want him even more.

He knows you’re close, he can feel your walls get tighter on his two fingers and that only makes him add another one in, making you practically mewl at the feeling.

Joined with his tongue circling your clit, the coil in your stomach uncurled and you felt your orgasm release, moaning into your hand that did nothing to hide your volume. You try to close your legs but Fernando keeps them in place, eating out your high with a satisfied look in his eyes.

He climbs up your body, kissing you on the way back like he did before, on your inner thigh, your torso, your chest, and then your mouth, tasting yourself on him.

“That was— fuck, Fernando. That was worth any trouble I’d ever get into,” you say breathlessly. He looked so pretty like this, hid away from the world, just wanting to be yours.

He gave you a light kiss on the nose before replying, “Told you so. You just need to trust me.”

“I do trust you, just not very much in the ‘sex somewhere my dad can find us’ part,” you joke, earning a chuckle from him and a long kiss. “I love you, you know that right?”

He kisses your cheek before settling his body on top of your bare one and replying, “I know. Of course I do, because I love you more.”

“Okay, competitive,” you mumble sarcastically. Before you could help him with his predicament, however, a loud knock startled the both of you.

“Y/N, are you in there?” A deep Austrian accent asks, muffled through the door.

Oh shit. It’s your dad.

You quickly attempt to put on your clothes, ushering Fernando wildly to move to the other couch. There was no other exit in the motorhome, which had you scouring your brain thinking of an explanation for this random Aston Martin driver in a Mercedes motorhome.

“Uh— just a second dad!” You shout, and Fernando could hear how frantic your tone was. Finally managing to put your pants on the right way, you open the door and lean on the doorway inconspicuously. “Hey! What's up?”

Toto Wolff, Mercedes team principal and scariest father in the world when it came to someone you were dating, took a peek over your shoulder— not so hard with his height— and saw Fernando sitting on the couch he just ate you out on, ‘reading’ a book with his legs crossed to cover his hard on.

Fernando looks up and nods at Toto, not wanting to say anything that’ll damn him. Toto nods back, but is still suspicious as to why a Formula 1 driver other than his own ones were in your motorhome.

He was used to Lewis or Mick there, sure, but this was just…odd, to him. “What’s Alonso doing in there?”

You look at Fernando then back to your dad, acting as innocent as you possibly could. “Oh him? He just wanted to escape from the press a bit. He was gonna stay in Aston Martin’s paddock but he wants to get away from them too at the moment, I’m sure you understand.”

“And he…chose your motorhome to stay in?”

“Well you know I can’t help but help people!” You replied awkwardly. The silence stretches out for so long that you just wait for the ground to swallow you up, before Toto shrugged and finally said, “Just came by to tell you that our dinner with Lewis, George, and Mick will be at 7pm instead of 6pm. Our debrief might take longer because of the double dnf.”

“Oh, okay! I’ll be there, I think Lewis is picking me up.” Toto seemed content with that answer and nodded at this, kissing your cheek and telling you to stay safe before walking away from your motorhome.

You sigh a breath of relief, glad that he didn’t ask any more questions about Fernando, although you doubt that’d be the last time they would see each other.

“So you’re going out to dinner with Hamilton tonight?” Fernando asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. His legs were still crossed one over the other to cover his hard on, and his hands were clasped together in the middle. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he looked like someone who was interviewing you.

Smirking at that thought, you reply, “Me and my dad are having dinner with the drivers, not just Lewis. You’re not jealous, are you?”

Fernando shakes his head, but you know him better than that. He uncrosses his legs before patting his thigh, “Close the door. Let me show you how much fun you can have before that dinner.”

Following his instructions once again, you close the door before straddling him with a grin, about to continue where you two had left off earlier.

Unbeknownst to both of you, however, an oblivious Toto Wolff had accidentally dropped his favorite pen from his pocket just at the door of your motorhome. And he was about to come back and retrieve it.

[writingworlds]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐄 (𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐)

Pairing(s): Charles Leclerc x Porsche!reader

Summary: The Porsche Princess, that nickname has followed Y/N around since birth. And who better for a princess than a prince?

Warning(s): shitty Google translate and potential racing inaccuracies

Author’s Note: I truly didn’t expect that much love on the first part of Prestige, especially because it was my first time really doing a social media au 🥹🥹. Here’s the second part and I hope you all enjoy 🫶🫶🫶

Please let me know if you want to be tagged and I do hope I got everyone who asked last time 😊😊

porscheagracing

liked by arthur_leclerc, mickschumacher, yn_porsche, and others

porscheagracing Preseason testing ☑️

Up next: the Bahrain Grand Prix

view all comments

yn_porsche 🖤❤️💛

username oh so Porsche is gonna be fast fast

username are we really that surprised? They’ve been wanting this for ages

username okay but Sebastian in his team principal gear 😩😩

username they all look so good 😍😍

username they already smashed preseason I can’t wait to see them on the track

username the livery looked so good in motion omg

username black fireproofs Porsche keep doing what you are doing

porscheagracing 😉😉

Charles Leclerc

Your car looked fast out there today

Y/N Porsche

I’m sorry who is this 😅

Charles Leclerc

Charles Leclerc

Arthur gave me your number

I hope that’s okay…

Y/N Porsche

Oh!!! Hi Charles 😊

It’s completely okay, I was just taken by surprise is all 😅

As for the car…I can’t say cause I wasn’t there but I do hope it was fast

Charles Leclerc

It looked good!!

Ferrari will have a competitor in Porsche that’s for sure

Y/N Porsche

I mean we can’t have Red Bull winning everything again this year can we 😉

Charles Leclerc

I keep telling Max he should give someone else a turn 😂

Y/N Porsche

He should, and that someone will be us

Charles Leclerc

Don’t get too ahead of yourself

This is still just your first year on the grid and well Ferrari is still the best

Y/N Porsche

Whatever you say “il predestinato” cause Porsche will be winning a race before Ferrari this year

Charles Leclerc

Is that a bet?

Y/N Porsche

It could be

Charles Leclerc

Oh you’re on

yn_porsche

liked by milaaa, charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, and others

yn_porsche let the games begin 😉

view all comments

milaaa OH- 😳

milaaa I JUST FELL TO MY KNEES IN THE GROCERY STORE

francisca.cgomes que lindaaaa

username MOMMY, sorry MOMMY

username SAY IT LOUDER

username so…the Porsche princess finally makes her return…

username 🥵🥵🥵🥵

username SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

username this should be illegal oh my god

charles_leclerc

liked by yn_porsche, arthur_leclerc, pierregasly, and others

charles_leclerc are you ready for it?

view all comments

pierregasly 🔥🔥

arthur_leclerc oh no

arthur_leclerc OH NO

username arthur you good?

arthur_leclerc no.

username CHARLES MARC HERVE PERCEVAL LECLERC

username if i said what i am thinking I would be banned 😳😳

username do you need a dog? Cause I can bark

yn_porsche 😁

username what’s with the smile girlie 🤨🤨

username HIS FACE HAIR JAWLINE EVERTHING

username what’s it like being god’s favourite 😭😭😭😭

username 🥵🥵🥵😩😩😩

username I don’t run but for Charles I might jog

Mila Bolinsky

Y/N WHY DO YOU AND CHARLES LECLERC HAVE MATCHING CAPTIONS

Y/N Porsche

Girl chill 😭😭

Mila Bolinsky

I WILL NOT CHILL TILL I GET AN ANSWER

Y/N Porsche

We just made a bet 🤷‍♀️

Mila Bolinsky

A BET??

YOU DONT JUST MAKE A BET WITH CHARLES LECLERC

NOW COME ON

TALK

Y/N Porsche

All I said was that Porsche was going to win a race before Ferrari this year and Charles disagreed

So we made a bet

Mila Bolinsky

WITH WHAT CONDITIONS

Y/N Porsche

If I win (and I will) Charles has to publicly announce on every social media account that he is actually French and must change his profile picture to the French flag

If he wins I must forgo my status as the “Porsche Princess” and go to a Grand Prix in Ferrari gear and go out to dinner with him

That’s all 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Mila Bolinsky

I-

I have no words

None

f1

liked by mick_schumacher, yn_porsche, porscheagracing, and others

f1 And with that masterclass of a drive mick_schumacher wins the first race of the 2025 season AND the first race for porscheagracing

view all comments

porscheagracing LETS GO MICK SCHUMACHER 🖤❤️💛

yn_porsche AYYYY MICKY

arthur_leclerc 🫡🫡

papaporsche The first of many 🎉

mickschumacher An honour, truly

username OH- so Porsche really is gonna be the new it girl of f1

username this. this is my team

username Red Bull has some competition this year apparently 👀

username I can’t believe I saw this live

username OMG you are so lucky

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Prestige Taglist: @405rry @chasing-liberosis @h4miltonforza @escapism-writer @spilled-coffee-cup @lightdragonrayne @marshmummy

[scarletwidowsbaby]

Little Pet

Summary: Something nefarious this way comes. Will you run before it's too late?

Pairings: Vampire!Nat x Hunter!Fem!Reader x Heretic!Wanda

Genre: Dark and slightly smutty but no sexy times.

Warnings: Sexual suggestions, blood, fangs, lingerie, dark magic. Minors dni, this is not for you.

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while but I gave it a bit of a touch-up. Hope you enjoy!

It was only dusk and you were already regretting taking the job. 

You had been hired by the local innkeeper to investigate the mystery around the abandoned manor on the backside of the forest’s mountain. Many adventurers had come in search of the manor, yet none had returned.

The fact that he was paying you three thousand coin per adventurer that you found was… possibly also the deciding factor. 

As you stepped onto the surprisingly well-kept lawn of the place, your hunter instincts went off. Something nefarious was here, lurking in the shadows, watching and waiting. You pulled out your sword as you entered through the giant double oak doors.

Immediately, your blade began to burn hotter than a thousand suns, forcing you to drop it. Thankfully, you had your fireproof gloves on from your latest encounter with a feral dragon, and weren’t burnt. 

“So sorry, dear.” A voice echoed in the grand pitch-black entryway, high ceiling above decorated with paintings akin to the skills of the Sistine Chapel. 

Not even God could save you now. 

“Come closer, dear. Let me see you in the light.” 

You noticed a speck of moonlight from a small window to the high right, almost casting a spotlight on the tiles in front of you. You cautiously stepped forward into it, unsure why, yet the voice’s chuckle was… unnerving.

“Why, look at you. A female hunter? Shall we call you Huntress?”

Your gaze steeled - there were more of them - before you felt a sharpness on your neck, a blur passing behind you. 

“Oh my. How… sweet.” 

You put your hand on your neck, your glove in the light showing a thin line of your blood. 

“Vampires.” You muttered beneath your breath. 

“Oh, not just vampires.” A new voice said, a clear glee entwined in her thick accent. “I do wish you would figure it out already.”

Suddenly, your body was lifted by an invisible force. You couldn’t move, save your eyes, and you were whisked through the house before you came to a throne room. You were practically thrown to the ground in front of it, a pair of sleek boots in your gaze. 

“It’s so wonderful to see another human try their luck here, isn’t it love?” The person, woman, in front of you chuckled darkly. 

“Let her lift her head, my dear. I want to see the life in this one’s eyes before I take it away.” 

The invisible force acting on your body released your head and you immediately lifted it, coming up to see two women. The one on the throne held a classic lop-sided smirk, her ginger-red hair flowing down her shoulders in simple waves. The other, standing beside the throne, was very clearly something else, with her brown locks tied back in neat braids done by a professional.

“A… here… tic…” You strained the devious hybrid species’ name through your lips.

“There we go. She figured it out!” She snarkily laughed, her eyes glowing as crimson as the bloodstains on her sleeves. 

“You are clearly a very skilled huntress. What is your name, sugarcube?” The seated vampire asked, her eyes set on yours. 

“Y/N.” Your name was pulled from your lungs by the heretic. 

“My my… No wonder Wanda liked the feeling from your sword… you are known for such giant feats of destruction in our world, Y/N the Huntress.” 

You guessed that Wanda was the heretic, given the grin that came onto her face. “Now now, love, I think you should introduce yourself. Give this huntress a good fright, yes?” 

You looked back at the throned woman, noticing a familiarity to a few wanted posters on the borders of the Darklands. “No…” 

“Yes…” She grinned, nodding her head as her sharp nails came to grip your cheek. “I am Natasha Romanova, Countess of the Mstiteli Clan. And you, dear huntress… are now mine.”

She pulled you up by your neck and made a neat slit across your skin, sinking her fangs into your vein whilst Wanda ripped your armour from your body with her magic. Wanda grabbed your wrist and pulled up your sleeve, making a neat slit perpendicular to your arm and delved into it. 

Tingling sensations spread from both areas, sending shivers down your spine. It was fast, and ruthless, as they didn’t stop even to let you breathe. You were trapped in the cycle of stuttered breaths, euphoria, and the effects of blood loss. 

When you rose, your body felt exactly how it was - weak, drained of energy, of blood. You felt your ankle had been chained, the cold metal stinging on your skin though it contrasted vastly with the softness of the bed beneath you. 

“Oh, now that’s a hangover headache for the ages.” You winced, lifting your hand to your head to simultaneously relieve the ache and brush a few strands out of your face.

“Is that what humans feel like when they’re blood is consumed? Intoxicated?” You jerked your head up - bad idea - to see Countess Natasha lying next to you in nothing but a black nightrobe and dark red lingerie. She gingerly brushed her fingers over your neck, which had small gauze patches on either side. 

“You.” You growled before instinctively reaching for your sword, only to feel another hand there. 

“You were right to melt her armour and sword, my love - she is such a feisty one.” Wanda giggled, her own nightrobe and lingerie adorned on her body. 

Wanda flicked some magic to your hands and they obeyed, pulling up until the wisps of red tied your wrists to the bed frame. “Though you can think of hurting us, now you can’t.” She grinned deviously.

“Now, sugarcube… what to do with you…” Natasha teased before she carefully began to peel off your gauze patches.

“Hey! That hurts!” You huffed before Wanda ripped the one near her fangs off with a sharp tug. 

“OW!”

They both chuckled and cooed at you like you were some soft malleable thing. 

“Calm down, detka. You’re such an impatient little thing.” Natasha rolled her eyes. 

“I’m not your ‘baby’.” You huffed, rolling your eyes before she quickly gripped your jaw.  

“Do that again and I’ll take away the pleasure from being fed on.” She whispered darkly into your ear, pressing her thumb and finger into your neck to pinch your airways. 

You paused, relinquishing, and she pulled away. “Good. Now, for ground rules: This coven is a respected coven. You are the only human we’ve ever taken in that won’t be turned, no matter how sexy you’d be as a vampire.”

“You see, baby girl… We own you now.” Wanda summarised, putting a small bit of ointment on your healing bite wounds. 

“Nobody owns me.” You retorted. 

“That ends today. Well, I should say tonight.” Natasha chuckled, tracing the outline of your face. 

“Yes, it does. So, we will explain the hierarchy to you: Natasha is Countess, so she will often be busy with coven affairs and our coven’s safety. Then, it’s me, considering I am her wife-”

“Wife?!” You exclaimed before Natasha’s finger pushed down on your sternum, her supernatural strength keeping you down in the bed. 

“Yes, my adoring, lovely, brilliant chef of a Sokovian wife. Now listen and be respectful.” The countess warned you. 

“As I was saying, I am second in the hierarchy. Then it is James, Steve, Sam and Scott - they are our ‘muscle’, even though some of them look like tanks and others not so much. After them is virtually everyone who is not an unturned child. Those we have accepted and who will be turned upon legal age.”

You listened carefully before you noticed an item in Wanda’s hand - a necklace. 

“This is something you will wear at all times unless in the shower. It is imbued with Natasha and mine’s scents and blood, should you ever need to be healed.” She said, clasping it over your neck and not afraid to let her hands wander a bit down. 

You turned your head away from hers, feeling some sort of spell over your body like the blood within the red stone was charged. 

“You feel it, don’t you?” Natasha smirked from above you, her hair tickling your neck as it hung down. “The power of us, the Mstiteli Clan leaders, though only a single drop of blood each. The power of vampires. You could have never defeated us, Y/N. Not even with your enchanted sword.”

“I did enjoy breaking those enchantments.” Wanda added.

You closed your eyes, trying to take everything in since you were still a bit dazed. “Nobody told me that you were Mstiteli. If I had known that-”

“You wouldn’t have come. We know. But we loved chatting to that innkeeper a few nights ago. He was just divine.” Natasha licked her lips and you understood the double entendre. 

“A few little drops of amber ash doesn’t hurt a fella. And without you to return and claim your prizes, we’ll keep getting willing meals right at our doorstep.” Wanda smirked.

“Such delicious, tasty meals… Speaking of, I want to have some more…”

You looked at the two warily. They stopped. What?

Natasha snickered darkly, cupping your cheek. “Oh, you really are as sweet as they come. No, what we did was a dominance show. Now, we go gently.”

Gently wasn’t the right word for her to use as she practically smashed her lips against yours, delving her tongue in to test if even your saliva was as sweet as your blood. Your hands, still chained above your head, were no match for Wanda’s power as she sank to your stomach, kissing and sucking at the exposed skin. 

“So divine…” She murmured, a flick of her magic warping your reality. 

“Hey! Bring my clothes back!” You yelled, mostly from embarrassment as you now wore the same nightrobe adorned on them but in crimson red… and without lingerie. 

“Patience, dear. We want our filling first. We will always come before you.” Natasha said, the words burning in your mind as she locked eyes with you. 

Then, she leaned in and reopened the wound with such precision of her fang she could be a surgeon. She sucked at your neck whilst keeping a firm hold of your body, her arm snaking underneath the nightrobe and around your back. 

“Come up here, Wanda. You were the one who wanted us to make our marks clear and present.” She chided her wife, who you hadn’t even noticed feeding on your wrist. 

“But she’s so beautiful… I want to sink my fangs into every inch of her, litter her body with my bite.” Wanda said and you could tell she was the far more possessive one. 

“Neck first.” Natasha said firmly. 

You felt like a blood bag. Nothing more than for something they can feed on and toy with, squish around in their hands to bring out every bit of life source. 

Then, you felt that tingle again. That rush of endorphins coursing through your veins, making you whimper beneath their touch. 

“Hush. Fuck, you’re delicious.” Wanda moaned against your neck, digging her fangs deeper. 

You quietened down like a good little pet and let them have their fill once more, your jostles of movement stopping quickly as fatigue set in. They were both grinning as they pulled away from your neck, fangs and lips smeared with your blood. 

“Wanda, go get some hot towels.” Natasha muttered, the heretic speeding away to bring a tower of hot towels. 

She leaned into your ear, kissing it gently. “Now hush, little pet. Time for you to rest some more…”

[lxndonorris]

still got it - Mick Schumacher

Y/N x Mick Schumacher Theme: Smutish (teasing, touching) attending Mick's tire testing in Barcelona x word count: 2120+

When Mick learned that he wasn't going to have a seat for the upcoming season, the two of you were more than just disappointed. Haas in general wasn't the best fit for Mick, with a boss with a temper and the arguably worst car at the time, it was very hard for him to show his true potential. He was frustrated and tried his best to succeed, but it just wasn't meant to be. However, once he got the call from Mercedes, everything changed. Even though he won't have an active seat, staying in F1 even as a reserve driver, means the world to both of you. Now, it's time for Mick to hit the track again, because they allow him to do the tire tests in Barcelona. Of course, he asked you to join him in the paddock, and there was no way that you'd decline his request.

For over a week now, he was excited, a little nervous, and overall happy to finally fly around a circuit once more, even if it was just for tire testing. When it was time to leave for the day, Mick basically dragged you towards his bike. You held on tight, your hands hugging him tightly from behind while he got you to the track right on time. The two of you met up with a few team members, and they informed you, that all is prepared. Now, Mick just needs to suit up and they're set to go.

You're the first to enter the motorhome, with Mick staying a few steps behind. He's still chatting with his mechanics, while you walk through the trailer. Looking around, you instantly remember all the other times you joined him on race weekends, however, it's different this time. They really spared no expenses when preparing this for Mick's tire testing. It looks so comfy, beautifully decorated, and overall perfect. Then, you spot the most important thing, his racing suit. Folded in a neat pile, his black racing suit and fireproofs, lie on a shelf inside the wooden cupboard. You make your way toward them and feel the fabric between your fingers. "Feels good, doesn't it," Mick says, entering the room and walking toward you, a huge smile spreading across his entire face.

"It does." You smile as well and watch him approach you. He reaches for your waist, pulling you closer toward him, while both of you admire his new suit. Then, he turns his face back to yours and tilts his head. "Shall we begin?" He smirks, and you mirror his movements. "Ready when you are." You lick your lips quickly and he giggles. Turning around, you spot a comfy chair waiting for you to sit down, the perfect view for now. Excited, you watch Mick undressing. After he took his shoes off, the first to go is his pair of tight skinny jeans. They look so good on him, flattering his thighs perfectly, and once they're gone, his dark blue boxers are exposed.

You cannot help yourself but admire his package, with him filling those undies well. Of course, he notices you staring. "My eyes are up here." He pouts teasingly, drawing your attention back to his gorgeous eyes. "Don't blame me." You mouth silently, shaking your head, causing him to smirk. He licks his lower lip before he pulls at his black Mercedes shirt. A beautiful, tight shirt, again, made to flatter him. You are used to seeing him wear any team gear, as it's part of his job, and he loves to show off, knowing very well that those shirts are an absolute tease. Without much of a struggle, he takes it off, smirking at you again. Most of the time you forget how well-formed his body is, even through those tight shirts, making his pecs look big enough, but once you see his bare chest, you can't help but look at him, his body again, admiring his physique.

Confidently, he slowly walks up to you, running a hand through his nicely done hair, across his firm chest and even further down to his crotch, brushing over his length. "Like what you see?" He bites his lower lip and reaches for your hand. "Oh, yeah." You breathe deeply and take his invitation. Easily, he pulls you out of the chair and right into his arms. "Easy." You giggle, steadying yourself against his bare chest. "I'm just so excited." He pouts again, before leaning in to kiss you lovingly. "Me too." You say once you separate from him. "Then, what are we waiting for?" Stroking his firm chest, you motion towards his suit. With every move of your fingers, his skin is flushed with color, when he blushes.

"Are you ready?" He raises his eyebrows. "Born ready." You steal one more kiss before he separates himself from you, leaving you to sit down again. Enjoying the view of his ass as he strolls towards the cupboard, you take out your phone to take a few pictures of him getting dressed. Mick picks up the bottoms of the black fireproofs, turns around smiles. "Never had black ones before." His gaze shifts between you and the clothes when a shy smile forms on his soft lips. "They do look good though." You say comfortingly, and he nods. Without further ado, he slides into them, one leg at a time, and they fit perfectly like they were hand-made for him, and just him.

Mick looks down at himself and moves from side to side to have a good look at his lower half. "How does it fit?" You say, and he looks up at you, smirking. "Tight, but in a good way." He bites his lip, knowing very well that not only his excitement is growing bigger and bigger. "Mind if I?" You raise your phone, and he tilts his head again. "Fire away?" He chuckles shortly, and you start to take a few pictures. Mick looks so fine, and he makes sure to pose for this photoshoot, showing off. Both of you giggle while he picks up the top half, and after exchanging teasing looks, he puts it on. You watch his skin vanish behind the black, thin fabric, as he slides into it, again, one arm at a time, before his head pops out of it, with a soft groan.

"Fuck." He breathes deeply, pulling down his top, flattening it with both of his hands. Subconsciously, he keeps stroking his own chest, and his nipples with one hand, while he walks over toward a mirror. "I do look so good." He lets out a soft groan before he turns back around to face you. Nodding contently, you motion for him to come closer again, and he puts on a show. Mick knows how good he looks right now, and he is not afraid to show off. This time, he doesn't need to pull you out of the chair, you get up, embracing his hands on your waist. "You're my beautiful man." You say, again steadying yourself against his chest, but this time, you enjoy the feeling of fabric underneath your fingertips as you run them across his chest, enjoying the feeling of his whole body slowly but steadily tensing more and more.

"Thank you." He blushes again before his attention is drawn to your fingers drawing circles across his pecs. To tease him a little more, your other hand finds its way to his chest, and you feel him, his tits firmly. Mick starts to purr happily, and he watches you stroke him again and again, this time, down his upper body, to his firm abs, his waist, and even further down to his crotch. Lifting your chin slightly, your hands brush over the tent forming inside his underwear, and he lets out a low moan. Mick raises his head now too, and your eyes meet again. "Naughty." He hisses, with his beautiful eyes shining brightly, the fire of excitement burning behind them. "I know you like that." You hiss back at him, as he starts to grind on your hand, narrowing his eyes.

"I think your way too overdressed." He looks down at your outfit, as he starts to tug at your shirt. Giggling, you place a hand on his chin, making him look into your eyes again. "I think we have to do that later." You look at his suit still lying on the shelf, and he follows your gaze. "Fuck, you're right." He looks back at you, leaning in for a loving, passionate kiss. Then, Mick separates himself again and walks towards the cupboard. "Wait, photos!" You say quickly, and he turns around again, striking a pose instantly. With his hands steadied at his hips, he goes through a different set of poses, the ones the drivers would have to do for F1 marketing material.

Mick looks so good in those tight fireproofs, his well-formed body testing the limits of the fabric teasingly. His whole body is growing in anticipation of the upcoming day, and so does yours. Even though you've seen him dress up more than a dozen times, this feels different, a new chapter of a promising journey. Lost in your thoughts, you nearly missed him putting his black racing suit on, when he does a little jump, so his legs slip inside the lower half. You've really missed the sight of him wearing those suits, and this makes you smile even brighter.

Once he lifts his head to look at you, you know he feels the same. His smile covers his whole face, his eyes shine brightly, and the suit fits perfectly as well. "I love that feeling." He says, his voice shaking slightly, as he looks down at himself again, running his hands across his chest, brushing over his crotch to his thighs and back to his waist. Now you make your way toward him, and he embraces your hands on his body now. "Damn, babé." You say, feeling his chest again. This time, it's even harder than before, as he starts to flex. "My beautiful, beautiful man." You say, running a hand across his chest, to his shoulder, and along his arm. Mick, teasingly, flexes his biceps, his muscles bulging against the thin fireproofs.

"So good." He groans again, and you look at him, smirking. "That good, huh?" Your hands encompass his entire upper body, much to his satisfaction. Mick loves being touched by you this way, and his whole body starts vibrating once he starts to hum happily. Leaning in again, you place a soft kiss right on his lips, while you feel his hands now all over your body, your neck, your chest, and waist. You easily pick up his rhythm, and the two of you move in unison, both of you, purring. Just then, a knock on the door snaps you out of this moment. "Eh, come in," Mick says quickly, trying to stop his face from blushing heavily.

A young woman enters the room and spots the two of you standing right next to each other. "You're already dressed, very good." She smiles, motioning to his suit. "Of course," Mick says nervously, and you exchange knowing looks. "You're down in 10, okay?" She says contently before she walks towards the door again. "We will be there." Mick smiles back at her and you watch her leave. For a moment, you stand there, before you share a quick laugh. "Shall we go then?" Mick turns to you, smiling. "Sounds good." You look at the phone in your hands. "Wait, a few more pics?" Pouting pleadingly, you try your best to persuade him, but that isn't even necessary.

Mick nods, and you take a few more pictures. He moves his body, to show off his butt, his firm chest, his big arms, and thighs. As you take a dozen pictures, he puts the upper half of the suit on as well. He closes the zipper, buttons up the collar, and reaches for your hand. One last time you place a hand on his chest, touching him lovingly. "I really missed this." Mick frowns, looking down at himself again, reminiscing of his time on the active grid. "You'll come back soon. I'm sure." You say comfortingly, rubbing his back. Nodding, he looks at you again, before kissing you.

Together, you walk towards his garage, where his Mercedes is already waiting for him. He walks along the car, running a finger along the outlines of the 47 on the front. You watch him getting ready and inside the car, being proud of him. It will indeed be tough to get back into F1, but as other people have done it before, nothing is impossible, for someone with his talent.

[wanderingblindly]

Nouveau Hot (Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri, 3.5k oneshot)

Lando’s hand moves faster, the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each stroke, each flick of his wrist. Easy muscle memory, it should be enough but — “Need you, need you, need you now, I- Osc, please I -oh fuck,” He’s rambling, the words spilling out faster as he desperately chases release — hips fucking up uselessly into his hand. “That’s too bad, isn’t it?”

READ HERE!

Please note that this is rated EXPLICIT for sexual content

i'm going to be sick actually, both at the concept of writing smut and at the images of Oscar's arms in the black fireproofs you know the one where he looks so much bigger than Lando and I just --

i'm going to bury myself actually

[hemipenal-system]

in honor of a hoiiday where everyone eats a shitload of food

i've had a fantasy for a long time about like some kind of dragon feeding show. like a bunch of people come sit in an amphitheater to watch a dragon eat a lá what they do at zoos with dolphins n shit

there's just this massive fuckoff dragon sprawled out in the center of the stage, sleeping peacefully until it gets woken up at the beginning of the show by its handler, who proceeds to introduce it to the audience and talk about dragons and what they eat and stuff that happens at every show like this. everyone just wants to skip to the bit where it devours a goat or something.

so the handler gets everyone really pumped for this, and everyone's screaming and cheering bc spectacle and all that. and then she just leaves the stage. stage crew in heavy fireproof bite suits wheel out these weird tall objects covered in black cloth and get them set up, then whisk the covers off to reveal people.

they're long clear tubes, likely plexiglass, and metal frames. there are three or four, and each one contains a human wearing nothing except a cute little gag. between that and the plexiglass, the audience can see them writhing around in their containment, likely begging for help, but can't hear them, and oh that's why this show was 18+ we were wondering about that

the handler comes back and explains to the audience that because dragons are used to working for their prey, for demonstrations like this they have to eat from elaborate puzzle feeders, which is what the audience is looking at. each feeder has a slightly different solution to prevent boredom. and before you ask, they'll be fine. they signed extensive waivers. legally, we're not responsible for them not reading them. (they were wondering about the wording they got from the ushers about the "inside-the-scenes tour." by the time they figured it out, it was too late)

by this point, the dragon is well aware what's happening, and it's hungry. it's being offered three delicious courses, which it gets to eat in front of an audience that's incredibly eager to see this. the thick chains attaching it to the stage give it plenty of mobility, so it sidles up to the first feeder, lazily prodding its nose at it.

the feeder spins over, dumping the human out the open top and onto the stage. the meal tries to stand up and run, but the dragon's on him before he can get to his feet, jaws locked around his waist as he's swallowed whole, the audience wincing at it.

the second puzzle feeder doesn't spin in the middle, but it tilts at the bottom. the dragon takes the tube in its claws, leaning backward to tilt it back enough it can reach into the tube to get the treat inside. it gets a good angle, dipping its muzzle as far inside as it'll fit.

now that the top's open, the audience can hear the crying and begging for just a split second before the dragon's teeth close around her shoulders, lifting her bodily out and holding her up, head tilted back so the audience can see the way its throat ripples as it pulls her down as well.

all the while, of course, the handler is explaining what's going on in the dragon's head, how this benefits it, stuff like that. the audience is a curious mix of rapt and horrified. two people have been eaten alive and a third is about to be, and she just. doesn't care.

the third feeder doesn't rock or tilt, and it has a complicated lock that can only open from the inside. this one's the most fun to watch. the dragon rears onto its hind legs, spreading its wings and roaring, shooting a burst of flame into the air, to momentous applause. the handler has to stifle a smile. she knows how much it loves showing off for the audience.

grabbing at the top of the tube for stability, it looks down, carefully inspecting the feeder. it's smart enough to figure out this lock, and it has before, but the handler changes it just slightly every time. it snarls quietly, frustrated, and it's the loudest sound in the auditorium.

the human inside is terrified. she's just watched two other people go into the dragon, and she's about to be next. she can't run or scream for help, and no one who could hear her would help her anyway. when the dragon snarls, she starts openly sobbing.

opening its mouth, it dips its tongue into the slits at the top of the feeder, carefully moving around the metal bars and knobs that comprise the elaborate lock. each movement with its tongue drips more saliva onto her body as it plays with the mechanism right over her head, the bends in the tongue occasionally slapping across her face or curling over an ear. each time it touches her, she gets more scared, and the dragon relishes that.

the occasional brushes turn into curious licks, which become prodding kisses as the audience finds out what that metal ring in her mouth is for. they can see her throat bulging and turning through the glass, the dragon purring as it takes its time, putting on a show. as it kisses her, the body of its tongue keeps working on the lock while the tip ravages her throat.

when it releases her, she gasps for air as the tongue curls down her back and between her legs. it suddenly lifts up, carrying the unfortunate morsel into the dragon's jaws so suddenly she only has time for one last cheesy, bloodcurdling scream. its teeth close around her feet and it snaps her up quickly.

the handler asks if they want to see one more trick, and is met with thunderous cheering. she cues the dragon, and it spreads its wings, leaping into the air and holding itself there as it surveys the audience, chains rattling with each pulse of motion.

she tells it to come back down, and it doesn’t listen. it’s giving her a weird look. she tells it again and it doesn’t move, except to lick its chops and snarl. she tells it one more time, and this time it does.

this feeding’s not like the others. it swoops down at her, grabbing her in its teeth, and bites down hard. blood goes everywhere. people are screaming. this wasn’t supposed to happen. she said at the beginning there was a risk to working with these creatures. maybe she was right. they can hear her muffled screams from inside its mouth as it begins to chew ponderously, the panicked cries lasting an uncomfortable amount of time before going silent.

the dragon lays down, closing its eyes, almost appearing like it’s going back to sleep until its wings open vertically, blocking off a sizeable amount of the stage. there’s a pause, then they snap back, revealing the handler, alive and well, gesturing to the audience.

✨ta-da!✨

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 21

First / Previous / Next

Fen paced around the tiny AI Core room. Dreams had told her she was quite safe inside, but based on the noises she heard in the hall, she wasn't so sure. More than once she felt her ears pop with a swing in pressure, and once she swore she felt the gravity change.

After what felt like forever, the door hissed open, and an empty space suit stood in the door. "Here you go Fen, the nicest suit onboard. It used to belong to Captain Cooper, but she won't be needing it anymore." Dreams chuckled darkly. "Speaking of, is there anything of the crew's stuff you want? They're all dead, and I don't need human stuff. Food, valuables, weapons, whatever. Feel free to grab what you want on your way out. But, do get out."

"Uh, okay, thanks Dreams." The suit split down the chest and opened like a flower. Fen backed up and as her feet stepped inside the boots, the suit molded to her size and body. The suit closed behind her, and she felt a gust of conditioned air as the suit pressurized. "So Dreams, once I get my stuff, where do I go?"

"Oh, head down to the hangar, I've left a ship for you."

Fen made her way back to her room to collect her things. As she walked, she marveled at the destruction. Panels were bent and broken, there were scorch marks on the walls, and there were bodies everywhere. She tried not to look at them.

Most everyone hadn't even had a chance to get their weapons, let alone armor or a space suit. Some had small arms, but the vast majority of people were just in their uniforms, gunned down by Dreams without any knowledge of what happened.

Fen's room was untouched. She grabbed her bag and her rifle, and headed towards the hangar. Everywhere she went, she passed carnage. One floor had the air evacuated, everyone there unmarked by weapons; they had all suffocated. Another, the gravity was turned high and then reversed. Everyone had been slammed against the floor and ceiling and floor until nothing remained but a red paste covering the floor and ceiling. A Third floor had all of the fire doors down and when she peered into the windows built into the doors she found the compartments filled with water. The crew here had managed to drown on a starship.

"You like that one? I'm especially proud of the drowning." Dreams sounded excited to explain thing to Fen as she spoke through the suit comm. "I re-routed the water from the pools to the fireproof compartments. Everyone died confused!"

"It's uh... very creative." Fen suppressed a shudder. On the one hand, the Empire had shackled Dreams and had held her against her will for centuries. On the other, they had been nice to Fen, and hadn't done anything bad to her.

"But that's because of who you are Fen." She could almost hear Ma-ren speaking to her in her mind. "You look human. Don't forget Ellen, she wanted to beat you because of how you were raised. Don't give them too much sympathy because they were nice to you. Under different circumstances, they would have shot you dead and not even thought about it after."

It was still a lot to see. Fen sighed, and tried to compartmentalize it. Gord had taught her about compartmentalization when they were together. He'd tell her, "Sometimes you're going to see terrible things, feel awful feelings, and still have to perform at your best. You can compartmentalize those feelings, those memories. Put them aside for later."

Fen put it out of her mind, and reached the bottom of the ship. "Dreams? Where is the armory?"

Dream's laugh was manic. "Now we're talking! I was hoping you weren't going to squander this opportunity! The armory and magazine are next to the hangar. You're on the right path. Don't worry about locked doors, you're the only BI left alive now, I've opened them all. You need some cash? I have control over everyone's bank accounts. I can toss a few million Stars your way before you leave too. I don't need it."

Fen paused. That felt like stealing from the dead, but it's not like they needed it anymore. It's not like she didn't need money. "Sure, Dreams, hook me up."

Fen reached the bottom deck and walked past the large open doors of the hangar, and finally her curiosity got the better of her. "What about the other two supers?"

"Oh, I haven't shot them yet. They honestly haven't even noticed anything is wrong. I kept all the bodies inside and have been spoofing comms with them. I'll let you get out of here, then I'll open up."

"Don't wait on my account Dreams, go nuts."

Another dark chuckle. "Oh you wouldn't say that if you knew what I had planned. Believe me when I say it'll be better that you're a few million kilometers away when I get started."

Fen reached the armory and just stood in the doorway for a moment. There were more guns here than she had ever seen in her life. It seemed like Dreams was stocked to give every single person down to the cooks and janitors a battle rifle. Dreams had wheeled a little electric cart by the door, and it chirped happily. Fen walked down the isles, picking out rifles of all shapes and sizes, pistols, submachineguns, even shotguns and scoped rifles and placed them in the cart as it followed behind her.

All in all, Fen wound up taking many cart loads of weapons and ammunition from Dreams, as well as a copy of her entire matter printer database, a few million Stars and most of her easy to grab food. It took most of a day to get things down to the hold - especially as Fen avoided the more grisly floors. Luckily, most everything was in the lower levels, and she didn't have to go roaming across the whole thing to find what was worth taking.

When she was finished collecting things, Dreams had saved something special for her. There was an entire frigate in her hold, something that Dreams was actually ferrying back to the Sol system. "It's a joint project between Sol and K'lax! Isn't it neat?" The brand new frigate gleamed in the sharp light of the massive hangar. It was a matte blue color, practically the color of space itself. Fen had a hard time finding the corners and edges, it seemed to blend into whatever space it occupied. Easily taller than the apartment complex she grew up in it was small for a starship, but still the largest thing that was ever 'hers.'

"It's amazing Dreams, are you sure I can have it?" Fen walked up to the ramp at the bottom and peered in. It smelled of new electronics and there was still plastic on the floor.

"What would I do with it, Fen? I'm already a Starship. It doesn't have an AI core, so I can't even wear it. It'll be wasted if it stays aboard, and since you're the only BI left, why don't you take it. Between the frigate, the Stars and the weapons, I figure I have you set up to run your own little mercenary group. It's set up for single operator use - though it'll work better when you have a crew - and I made sure the tanks are full, the reactors hot and the printable mass loaded."

Fen stood outside the frigate and watched as the little carts wheeled 'her' new stuff aboard. "I'm not ungrateful Dreams, but... why?"

"Fenchurch Whitehorse if I'm anything, I am angry. I'm angry at what happened to me, I'm angry at the state of the galaxy, I'm angry at what has happened to the humans I used to love so much. In you, I see that spark of old humanity. I see something I haven't thought about in a long time."

"I feel hopeful when I see you."

Fen didn't say anything lest she ruin the moment. "Fen, I know a lot about you. More than you know yourself, probably. You're more important than you realize. Not only that but, without any prodding or offers of reward you freed me. You risked your own life to try and save mine, even tough we were both captured by the Human Empire. It would have been easy to just walk by the AI Core and pretend you didn't see it, or assume it was empty. Instead you snuck in and freed me. I'd say that means you deserve a chance."

The last cart wheeled off the frigate. "Okay Fen, you're loaded up. I also transferred the keys and the IFF to you. This ship is yours, free, clear and legally. You can dock at any station, planet or colony - even Imperial ones - and there is nothing they can do to strip ownership from you. Go, and flourish. I believe in you."

The corners of Fen's eyes were wet, and she wiped them on the convenient pad in her suit. "Thanks Dreams. I hope to see you again under happier circumstances."

"I can promise you Fen, you won't. Say hi to Gord for me when you see him again." Dreams cut the audio and the door to the rest of the ship rolled shut with finality. Fen climbed aboard her new ship, and Dreams guided her out.

Up on the Command Deck, Fen sat in the command chair. Dreams was correct it was set up for single operator use, but clearly it was hobbled. She could set a destination and that was about it. She was going to have to hire a crew if she was going to do anything other than float. She saw that the computer was preset to take her to K'lax so she pressed the button to execute the orders, and felt the pressure increase as the drive lit to take her across the system.

Ten minutes later, she received a text only message from Dreams. "Turn around and you'll see a show." Fen activated the rear cameras and watched.

The Dreams of Hyacinth, a Super Dreadnought more than six kilometers long flashed the pure white light of a wormhole link. It appeared next to the other super, and then flashed again. Now it was next to the third super. It flashed between the two faster than she thought possible. Each time Dreams flashed next to the ship, the automatic station-keeping system slid the ship away from Dreams and towards each other. Dreams did this four more times - for a total of eight links until the ships were almost ready to collide. Then, she linked above the two and...

Dreams had overloaded all of her reactors. There was a white flash, like a wormhole link, but instead of being over in a flash, it grew in intensity, spreading larger and larger, black tentacles of energy on the edges of space. It was so bright that the frigate dimmed the video feed once, and then again. In the space of less than five minutes, all three ships were utterly destroyed. Nothing remained.

Fen turned off the rear cameras and sat in silence for a moment. She wondered if that's what Dreams meant by 'going home.'

The radio crackled to life. "Unknown ship, identify yourself or be fired upon! I repeat, identify yourself or be fired upon!" The voice was speaking Colonic, but had a thick K'laxi accent.

[zensations35]

Don't Call Me A Cabbage (Haz/bin)

Aahhhii okay here's my humorous/sweet/semi-angsty Caretaker Alastor with sick Charlie fic for @onetrickponi who has been just a doll for us all with constant Haz/bin content 🤤 (Al does get sick in this bc I have no self control 🤣) And here's the sugar on the cream: Poni drew some art for this fic! You'll find it below~ Eeeee Enjoy!

There is a concerned buzz to Alastor’s static today as he peers down at the pink flush veining from Charlie’s cheek circles. “You feel ill?” 

Snf “Yeah, I think so…” she uses her whole arm to rub her small black nose, scrunching the bridge and letting out a whine.

Alastor sighs and leans next to her headboard. “What are your symptoms?”

“Umb,” she holds out her hand and begins ticking things off, “Stuffy ndose, sndeezing, sore throat, headache…”

“Do you have a fever?” he asks.

“I…I dunno…”

Alastor pops toward the box of medical supplies she keeps in her room--it was a silent consensus that no one could be trusted with this stuff in a public room. 

He digs around for a thermometer and waits next to her. She looks up at him and he gestures to her mouth, open up, come now. 

She does and he tucks it under her tongue, not comfortably either. She swallows a wince of pain as she waits for it to beep. Once it does, Alastor looks at the number and hums. “I see.” 

Charlie stretches to peek at it but he’s already moving away, sanitizing the edge and groping around in the box for other things. 

“What’d it say?” she asks.

“You are certainly ill,” he says. 

She twists her mouth in a frown. Wow. Okay. She scrubs at her nose again, fingers curled into a tight fist, “Ihh hnn-KS’IEhwww!” a fork of flame wends its way around her wrist and both her and Alastor’s eyes widen at it. 

“Oh shit.”

“Oh dear,” Alastor spins on his heel and rummages in a closet, whisking out a fireproof blanket, silvery fabric glinting in the light as he hauls it over to Charlie and wraps her in it from waist to head. 

“There we are,” he smirks at her, “Comfortable?”

Charlie gives him a wan smile. No… 

“Yep!” she lies cheerily. 

He nods and sets a can of emergency fire extinguisher spray on her bedside table with a plink before manifesting his cane and tapping it on the plush pink carpet. “Now, you get some rest while I fetch you--”

“Wait!” Charlie worms around in the surprisingly well burrito’d blanket. “What about the hotel? Everyone will--hieea--IEK’SHH!!” this time the blanket smothers the flames before they can cause any serious harm to anything around them. 

Alastor beams. “Not to worry, my dear, I will take care of it.” He gives her a goodbye pat on the head, the blanket crackling beneath his palm, and he strolls out of the room. 

Well, at least this gives him a chance to catch up on things he’s missed since his ‘absence’. He waves a hand and a chair grows from a cloud of green smoke. Alastor perches upon it, crossing a leg and pulls out a newspaper from the void to read.

Four newspapers later, footsteps press along the hall. Alastor’s ears flick and his eyes flit up to see Angel Dust approaching Charlie’s door. He closes his paper and folds it up into a perfect square, shifting to close in on the spider demon.

Before Angel can reach the handle of Charlie’s door, Alastor’s cane THUNKs the carpet, almost chopping his toe off. 

“Excuse me,” Alastor’s neck cricks as he stands fluidly. “What are you doing here?”

Angel’s gold tooth glints, annoyance flashing across his face. “I’m gonna see Charlie. Whatcha got a monopoly on her room now?”

“Yes.” 

Angel blinks at him. Then shakes his head, hair flopping. “Whateva, out of my way.”

Alastor glides in front of the door, smile standing firm. “Charlie is occupied at the moment. You may bring your inquiries to me.”

Angel folds his lower arms, “What, you’re in charge?”

Alastor’s dials amp slightly. Well, Charlie didn’t not put him in charge. And with her angry girlfriend gone on a frivolous mission, who else could feasibly hold this place together, really? 

“Yes, I am.” He says, voice silky static. “What can I help you with, pastel one?”

Angel props an upper arm on his hip, considering. “Alright...fine. We need a referee o’ sorts.” 

Alastor opens his arm, “Lead the way.”

At the bar, Husk and Sir Pentious are glaring at each other looking equally pissed off, and in the middle of a heated argument. 

“What seems to be the problem?” Alastor asks, in a semi-bored tone. 

Sir Pentious fans his hood angrily, pointing a bent claw at the overgrown kitten. “He called me slimy! I am not slimy--amphibians are slimy! My scales,” he wiggles his hands down the length of his slithery form, “are cool and dry. I do not need to be kept moist--”

“Eiyeg!” Husk makes a disgusted face. “Don’t call yourself moist.” 

“I said I do not need to be moist--”

“BEH!!” Husk makes a vulgar gesture, and Pentious rattles back angrily.

Alastor groans, the sound strumming tinnitus into the group’s ears, causing them all to cease the argument. 

“Well,” the Radio Demon rotates his wrist indifferently, “it sounds like the snake man knows more about snakes than the non snake demons. If they say something incorrect about your anatomy, just threaten them with disembowelment and move on.”

“But!” Pentious stiffens anxiously, “we’re supposed to stop being mean!” He spreads his arms, “How else are we to be redeemed?”

Alastor growls, tapping the point of his claw to his chin. “Very well then,” he shrugs, eyes fluttering with disinterest, “ignore the fools for the ignorant cabbages they are.”

Husk’s fur stands as high as its ends will allow, tail whisking left to right. “Did you just call me a fuckin’ cabbage??!” 

“Now, off you are.” Alastor shoos them. “Enjoy my good advice and quit your grousing.” He doesn’t bother waiting to see if they actually do stop grousing. His job is complete.

Alastor, having returned to the hallway outside Charlie’s room, basks in the afterglow of being on the button, as always. 

His ear twitches when a piercing sound breaks the door’s seal. “Hiat’ESSiew!!” 

Hm. Obviously her room needs soundproofing. Proper soundproofing. Otherwise the entire hotel will find out about her ailment. She shouldn’t let her underlings see her weak. No, no, Alastor will help with that. 

He slips inside and begins fussing around, tossing green and black magic around the room until it settles into the bones of the wall, absorbing into the plaster. 

“What'd you just do?” she asks.

“I have soundproofed your bedroom for you!” Alastor thrusts his chin proudly, fist pressed to his chest. 

“But…” Charlie nibbles her lip with a fang, “how will you hear mbe? If I ndeed you?” her words are syrupy and lethargic. Poor dear.

Alastor waves his upturned finger, smoke cloying the air as he manifests twin speakers above the bed. 

“There we go.” He snaps his fingers and a smaller radio appears in his hand. “Now I can hear you and you can hear me.” 

And no one will know you are sick and weak…

“Uhh…cool…” her teeth fan in a forced smile. “Thangks Alast-ih!” her fingers web her lips, small pitchy gasps breaking through her throat, “ehh-ieeh! AEX'SHiieewwWW!!” Embers flutter the blanket around her and she shivers, teeth chittering into a nose scrunching sniffle. 

His smile drops a tick and he reaches for her. Something comforting…what should he--

BANG BANG BANG!

Charlie jumps and both of their heads swivel to the door. Alastor’s eyes darken. What the fuckbucket is going on now? 

“What was that?” she whimpers.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he murmurs and dissolves into shadow, reappearing in front of a stunned Angel and Pentious quibbling in one of the rooms. 

“What is it now?” Alastor growls.

Angel snarls, gold tooth winking in the dim light. “He,” the spider points at the snake, “stole my sandwich!” 

Pentious gasps, more of a squeak really, and clutches his overripe chest, “Your sandwich?! That was my sandwich! I--”

“Liar!” Angel is yelling now. “I fuckin made this sandwich! With my own three hands!” 

“Oh, now you are flaunting your many limbs at--”

“S̸̖̯̖͊ile̷̠͗ń̴͕̹̇̅͝c̵̐͝e̴͕͙̅!”

The word reverbrates into the empty air. Both sinners look at Alastor, lips thin and firm. 

“Since neither of you can go a single hour without bickering,” Alastor snaps his fingers and the sandwich vanishes from the table. Both men whine with indignation as Alastor unfurls his hand with a plate, the sandwich fully formed atop. 

“Now, neither of you gets to eat it.”

“Hey! What rule says that?!”

“The ‘fuck around, find out’ rule.” The Radio Demon ignores the rest of their protests and brings the sandwich back to Charlie.

When he presents it to her, she is quite pleased. 

“Mmm~! Wow, this is good! Did Pentious make this? It tastes like the ones he makes.”

Alastor doesn’t answer but he files the information for later. 

“I am glad you app--”

He pauses as her cheek curls with a tiny snarl, “Hiek’ETSHFFWW!” She dips into her elbow, mangling the sandwich with her twisting fist. 

“Hm,” Alastor almost frowns. She doesn’t seem to be improving much. “I deem you in need of rest and perhaps medication.”

She snuffles, rubbing her nose with her sleeve. “We dodt habv bedicide…”

“Yes, well, you leave that to me.” He spins on a dime and uses a flick of his wrist to dim the lights. “Rest, my dear. I will return shortly.”

In classic hell fashion, as soon as he decided to leave, rain started pouring. It slices down around him, shushing through his ears as he drags himself across the barren streets. The downpour is oddly unpleasant--it doesn’t normally bother Alastor. But tonight it’s cold. 

By the time his errands are done, the chill has settled straight into the marrow of his bones. 

Wracked with shivers, he uses the back entrance, dodging the glow of the television in the main room. 

A sibilating flick of his fingers evaporates most of the water and he enters Charlie’s room barely before daybreak to administer the medicine. 

She’s already awake when he enters--an early riser, like himself. And from the sound of her breath, he’s arrived perhaps too late--she needed this remedy long ago.

“EKFSH’DK!” Her sneezing is growing more raw and ragged, scraping her throat and causing her to devolve into coughing fits. Rgh. If only he weren’t being pulled into helping the wretched sinners with their trivial matters.

He jerks the door shut before her sneezes can wake the rest of the hotel.

“Aaaalastor?” her voice crumbles his name, “did you go outside?”

“Just popped out to fetch a remedy for you.” He cracks open the seal and pours the vile liquid into a tiny cup. Charlie does a poor job of hiding her revulsion. 

She still smiles when she takes the medication, which makes him proud at least. As he’s tucking the medicine back into the box, a wingbeat of irritation flutters his features. “Ih٨ـfff…” He presses the heel of his palm against his nose. Oh fuck no. Goddamn rain, goddamn cold, fuck. Not here, not now not--

“Alastor?” he hears her cracked call. Fuck. She needs something and his nose still itches. He scrubs it with the back of his wrist, fangs sawing each other to the quick of his gums. 

“One m٨ـmoment…”

One. Just one. Get it out of his system. 

“Hvv-YZZ٨ـZ!” his ears flatten and puff out, finishing the sneeze with a shiver before he sniffles and brushes a wrinkle from his jacket. 

There. He’s fine. He hurries back to Charlie’s side, hoping she didn’t hear--

“What was that noise?” she asks, fingers lightly crimping the blanket up to her chest. 

His heart trips on his tongue and he clears his throat to settle it. “Nothing my dear. A hiccup in the speakers.” He turns his smile to her and clasps his hands behind his back. “What can I do for you?”

She blinks her bruised eyes up at him, voice high and sandpapery, “I’m hungry…”

“Then I shall make you food. I make a mean salt and cabbage soup for flu season!”

“Ehhh…sounds…great…” Charlie gives him a thumbs up.

In the kitchen, he finds most of the ingredients he needs. He has to use butter instead of lard (fucking heathens…) He opens the cabinets, glowing eyes casting the ceramic bowls and cheap plastic spice containers in a pink hue. His claws encircle several choices and he adds them to his concoction. 

He doesn’t measure--no, he does what his family taught him: scent, taste, sight. “Eyeball it”. Cooking is an art! 

So, into the soup the ingredients go, of varying magnitudes. Alastor tastes and sniffs until he’s satisfied. However…something that doesn’t normally happen when he’s cooking starts…his nose begins to run.

He lifts a knuckle to quell the itch, but even a few rubs doesn’t abate it. 

He steps out of the steam, but the sensation surprised him so much, (he was cooking for heaven’s sake!) hitches barely began to flutter in his throat before he jerked to the side.

“Hp٨ـZZF!” He catches one in his wrist, neck crooked to the right, but only half a breath is allowed before his shoulders shake into a second, “Yzﮩـﮩ٨ـzZZV̵͕̳̬̽̉̃̽F̵́̑͝F̷̖͎̋̀͛̎!” 

“Oh great,” a deep tenor behind him makes the Radio Demon startle, but not enough to make him jump. He has enough sense to snake his handkerchief out of his pocket and dab his face before Husker can see anything untoward.

“Hm?” Alastor buzzes back.

Husker roots around in the fridge for the carton of milk, “Now whoever eats that is gonna get sick.”

Alastor chuffs, “You needn’t worry about that.”

Husker straightens, flicking the door shut with his tail. He cocks his head when he sees Alastor’s profile, his left ear twitching. “Have you even slept lately?”

“I said not to worry, Husker.”

The bartender’s lips press firmly together, considering. Then he snorts, taking his milk and exiting the kitchen with a, “Fuck it.”

Soup steaming, yet cooled to appropriate consumption temperature, Alastor serves it to Charlie in bed. As soon as her mouth closes around the aromatic liquid, her face scrunches, eyes watering with saline. “Mgk!” Her throat bobs with a thick swallow, and her palm thrusts the base of her triangled nose. “Ah-iyee! Ouff!” 

She frees her other hand to fan her tear-streaking face, “Th-thpithy!! Hih--” her teeth notch over her spice-baked tongue, “Aik’tzPF!” her hands fly up to tent the spray as she jackknifes into her knees. “EiighSHP!” 

Alastor’s ears flatten and he rescues the bowl before it can tump over from her wracking movements. 

“I…I didn’t intend for…” he hesitates, a chisel grating at his chest. 

“No, no, ndo!!” she snuffles, waving a hand about blindly fumbling for the tissues as her sealed eyes continue to leak. “Don’t be-hih- ESKieww! S-sorry!”

Alastor struggles to keep his smile in place as he grabs the box and hands it to her.

“Thangk you aughk…” she quickly blows and wipes her face, dabbing her eyes so she can see again. They’re rather red and veined now and the guilt gnaws further into Alastor’s stomach.

He stands swiftly, soup slopping over the rim of the bowl. “I will get you something else--”

“No!” Charlie grabs his arm and his eyes dart to her, ears erect as if he were being attacked. “It was good!” she continues, oblivious to his discomfort. “Really! I’ll eat it--”

Alastor feels the chains on his heart weaken, just a smidge. Ill and weak, and she still just wants to make the entire fucking world happy. He takes his free hand and pats hers, using it to shift her grip on his arm gently. 

“No, my dear. There is no need for that. Relax. I will find you something to suit your needs.”

When he arrives back in the kitchen, Angel Dust is sitting at the bar counter, spooning a pink bowl of…Alastor’s soup…into his mouth.

Alastor’s horns instantly thicken and grow. “What are you do٨ـing?!” 

Angel’s eyes widen at the rage in his tone. “Whoa, chill out man, I’m just eatin’.” 

Alastor slams his bowl down, tiny fractures spiderwebbing the ceramic, as his features darken. “That food was not meant for you.” He moves to reach for Angel’s bowl but Angel pulls it closer to himself.

“Hey, dude! There was plenty! Who made you King of the Kitchen?”

Alator’s claws begin to slick with shadows, “You don’t understand, you fucking imbecile. I made that soup.”

“And that makes you the boss of it, yea?” Angel dips his spoon into the bowl and exaggeratedly sticks it into his mouth, “Mmmmm~♡!”

Alastor snarls, “Rrrhh! You f̵̛̜̯̲̼͍̀͆ú̵̦̹c̴̗̭̲̑͗̎͗̐͛̕k̷̡̔̌̿̋̃͘ͅị̸̤̱̯͆͌̉̀͑̃̆n̵̻̟͕͍͑g̵̨̗̭̩̣̮̱͐̈́̂͛!!”

“Oh yeah~” Angel continues licking the spoon and moaning until he’s practically deep throating it.

“Stop it right fucking now before I rip your throat apart to--”

“Hey!” Husker’s voice freezes the spoon halfway down Angel’s throat, both men’s eyes flicking to the hackled bartender. “What the royal fuck are you two doing?” His gaze locks onto Angel who un-swallows the spoon. Alastor also simmers down, features retracting back to normal and he straightens his bowtie.

“Angel, why are you sexually antagonizing the asexual?”

“I ain’t. He got pissy cuz I ate some fuckin soup!” 

Alastor lets out a keening laugh, “I did not cook this for you.” 

Husk pinches the bridge of his nose, “Jesus fucking crackers.” He sucks in a breath, “alright,” he snaps his fingers at the spider, “Angel, quit eating the fucking soup.”

“But--”

“What? Is it so damn good you can’t live without it?”

Angel’s mouth opens, but his eyes slide to Alastor whose smugness keeps dialing up the longer Angel’s silence lasts. Oh he is not paying that asshole any compliments. 

“Fine! Whateva!” he shoves the bowl away and throws himself off the stool, storming away with his arms folded over his chest fluff.

Alastor victoriously starts cleaning the dishes but Husk speaks over his shoulder, voice a low half grumble.

“You should’ve just told him why you didn’t want him eating it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Husk snorts, “Fine. Pretend you don’t actually give a shit about people. But it’s gonna bite you in the ass one day.”

Alastor’s teeth click shut, ignoring Husk until the feathered cat leaves the room.

He knows nothing. 

Nothing…

He gets the new soup prepared and with no interruptions, brings it to Charlie. He barely has time to place it at her bedside table before some fucking asshole knocks at the door! How does she deal with their constant bemoaning??

All but vibrating with annoyance, Alastor opens the door to find Niffty. Well, at least it’s someone he likes. 

“Niffty, my dear, how may I help you?”

“I just killed the beetle queen!” she beams.

“Ah, you did very well!” 

“Do I get a gold star?” she asks, hands clasped in front of her apron, mouth in a slit of a smile.

“Ahmm…?”

“Charlie gives us gold stars for good behavior. I want one.”

“Mmm, very well.” Alastor closes the door behind him. This shouldn’t take long and it’s only Niffty. He won’t have to interact with anyone else. “Where does Charlie keep the gold stars?”

Niffty taps a letter opener against her razor teeth. “I dunno.”

He shrugs and manifests one--very large and very shiny--handing it to her in her tiny arms. Her eye bulges and she grins all the way into her hairline. 

“Ooooh, I’m the best!!” 

“Of course you are.”

“Hey!” 

Alastor cringes when he hears another voice. It doesn’t fucking matter who it belongs to--he doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now. 

“Why does she get a bigger star than us?” Angel asks.

“Yesss!” Pentious adds, somehow they’ve all been summoned by pettiness. “I worked hard for mine! Why does Niffty get a big one and we do not!?”

Alastor’s fingers squeeze the hilt of his cane, his brow creasing as his nose fuzzes with rage and…hhhfffﮩﮩ٨ـ

“Be-c-ahh-ause! I actually like the sound of Niffty’s voice. I hh-fvvﮩ٨ـ-uck!” he folds his claw over his nose, shadows dripping from his skin. 

“Boss?” Husk steps closer, tail flicking anxiously behind him, “are you--”

Alastor’s limb extends, inky shadows lashing out, “Don’t f̴͈̌ȕ̸̟̭̬̒̿c̶̝͙͐́̔̈͘͜k̵̢̗̪̤̘̞̺͗̚ḭ̴̊͋͆ņ̴͔͕͎̄̾̆͌̋͘̕g̴̊̏̒̌͛͊ touch me!” His joints crack and clip as he backs away, retreating with the heel of his palm shoved against the tip of his nose. “Hfz’ ju-hhﮩ٨ـZST!” shadows fold over him, fog clinging to his flesh as his voice burns with static, “Stay away from me, from Charlie, and my fucking sou٨ـﮩ٨p!” he yells, before vanishing into the cloud of skyless fog. 

The group exchanges looks and frowns. 

“That guy has fuckin’ issues.”

Husk exhales through his teeth. “You got no fuckin idea…”

“Alastor!” Charlie squeaks when he manifests in her room, horns wide, eyes dark pools. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Alastor drinks deep breaths, calming himself mentally and physically with each exhale. “I--hhh-I…” his hand hoods his face and he drops his chin as his breaths saw violently in his throat, “XHZZT!” 

Charlie’s fingers press at her cheeks and she whimpers with sympathy. “I got you sick!” 

Alastor pants, bracing himself on the footboard. “I am perfectly--”

“Don’t you say fine!” she thrusts a finger at him, cheeks puffed righteously. Alastor stares at her narrowing gaze. “Don’t. You. Dare.” Her pointer finger waggles and she bends it toward the heart pillow on the other side of the bed. “Sit.”

His eyes slide toward the pillow, horror dripping from his expression.

Charlie’s lip turns up. “I said sit, Mister!” 

“I don’t need--”

“I need.” She snuggles into her fireproof blanket and unfurls a pink fuzzy one just for him alone. She pats the open space. “Sing to me?”

His eyes fade immediately back to magenta. “What?”

Her irises glisten and grow, her face taking on that famous ‘puppy dog cute’ that infuriates him normally but…

“My mom used to sing to me when I was sick.”

He can’t help it. A song? When was the last time he sang a song? He snorts a tiny laugh. “Well, I suppose you’re asking the right person.” He slips tentatively onto the bed, tucking only his toes under the blanket as he scrolls through his mental list of songs to soothe her.

“Let’s see…”

Non, rien de rien

Non, je ne regrette rien

Why this song?

Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait

Ni le mal

Tout ça m'est bien égal

Heaven, his lids are heavy…

Non, rien de rien

Non, je ne regrette rien

C'est payé, balayé, oublié

Is she asleep?

Je me fous du passé

Avec mes souvenirs

J'ai allumé le feu

Is he…?

Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs

Je n'ai plus besoin d'eux

Balayé les amours

.ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Avec leurs trémolos

Balayé pour toujours

Je repars à zéro

Charlie wakes to find Alastor still asleep, head leaning back against the puffy heart pillow, his monocle dangling next to his cheek. His tiny snores are little more than static fuzz.

She wants to tuck him in so bad, but she wants him to sleep more, so she glides from under her blanket and pads out of the room. 

When she enters the main area, Angel, Husk, and Pentious are all sitting around a card game. Husk perks up when his ears twitch and he sees her enter. 

“Hey,” he rumbles. “Feeling better?”

Angel swings his whole body around the back of the couch, “Oy! Where tha fuck you been? Alastor’s dungeon?”

“We placed betsss!” Pentious sniggers.

Charlie shakes her head, matted braid flopping around her shoulders. “Nah. I was sick. Alastor’s been taking care of me.”

“He did what now?” Angel gawps. 

“He must have brainwasshed you!”

“No, really! He--”

Husk sighs, “He’s asleep, right?”

Charlie nods. 

Angel wheezes. “How’d you know?”

“He’s sick.”

“How’d you know that?” 

Husk rolls his eyes. “Cuz I’m the only one who pays attention to you fuckers.” He thumbs the hallway. “Alastor got sick, made the soup. Angel started eating it. Alastor got mad--”

Angel’s lip pops open, “Aw what the fuck!” his arms flap, “why didn’t he just say! Wait--am I gonna get sick now?”

“Calm down everyone,” Charlie presses the air with her palms. “He went out and bought enough medicine for all of us.”

“But, wait, why? You’re the only one who needed it.”

Charlie smiles to herself, thumbing the medicine cup as warmth spreads through her chest. If there’s hope for him, there’s hope for all of them. 

She can’t wait to tell Vaggie. 

[starstruckwillows]

bronze age — leo valdez ♡

requested by anon<3

leo valdez x fem!reader, fluff, pining, friends to lovers

machines explodes and so does leo’s heart

“can you pass that?” leo gestured vageuly to the table you sat on, other hand straining to keep cogs from touching as he undid the chain links.

you frowned, surveying the varied range of tools before you. you’d watched him do this maintenance enough to take an educated guess.

you guessed right and couldn’t help but feel a little proud of yourself.

“do you hear that?” he froze suddenly, pulling himself out of the cavity he’d been leaning into. you were slightly distracted by the arm he was leaning on, and his oil-stained dungarees.

blinking, “erm... no.”

leo frowned, “really, cos i swear there’s like a fizz or s-”

he did not get to finish the sentence, as a loud clank and scrape cut him off, followed quickly by an explosion somewhere inside the mess of machinery he was operating on.

flames and thick black smoke billowed outwards. luckily, leo was focused enough to protect his skin from the flames, only charring the tips of his hair slightly. but you were not fireproof, and had to inelegantly flip the table you were sitting on to protect yourself from the scorching heat, even though the flames didn’t quite make it that far across the room.

“y/n? oh my gods, y/n?” leo shouted once the fog had retreated, rushing to the corner you’d backed yourself into with the table-shield diagonally across the space.

coughing and flapping away the fumes that you winced at the thought of having in your lungs, you let him help you up.

“let’s go... get you some air.” leo decided, guiding you out of the room with a hand at the small of your back.

friends, best friends, you reminded yourself, convinced the smoke you’d just inhaled was affecting your thinking.

“are you okay?”

on instinct with your swirling thoughts and feelings, “no.”

something lit in his eyes, “no? what hurts, where- i mean, do you need like a medic or i could get coach hedge-”

you cut him off, “no, sorry, i’m alright.”

he frowned at you disbelievingly, but you tried to reassure him, “i’m okay. really.”

leo grimaced and removed his hand from you to mess with his hair, “sorry, that was... my fault. maybe you shouldn’t come to the engine room anymore.”

you tried to not think about the implications of your next sentences, “no, i want to. i like coming to wat- talk to you. even if i end up choking.”

“that’s... what she said?”

with a scoff, “shut up valdez.”

he wiggled an eyebrow mockingly, “make me.”

“now that’s what she said.”

with a nudge to your shoulder, he sat you down on the side of the ship that was still rocking uneasily. percy and annabeth bustled around somewhere behind you on deck, having a vague disagreement on the best order of pastries. he kissed her on the forehead and she laughed; you turned back to leo and fought the urge to lay your head against his.

“are you sure you’re alright?”

you nodded a little too enthusiastically, “sure, sure, i’m good.”

“cos you’re breathing a little shallow... that’s all.”

you dipped your head and tried to not meet his eye, “yeah... i mean, i’m alright.”

for all his bravado, leo was oblivious to the signs of your crush. but he could tell there was something you weren’t comfortable to say, and he wanted you to be comfortable in saying anything to him, so he tried to open up himself.

“y’know my hairs a bit singed now? i wasn’t focusing on protecting myself from the fire, because i was... i mean my first thought was just, y’know, worrying about you. i was worried about you.”

you smiled weakly, softly, “yeah, but i’m okay.”

he huffed but smiled back, “i know. but i didn’t know then. i’d be pretty lost without you.”

once again you turned away, “ye- yeah, me too leo.”

it wasn’t often you referred to him by his first name, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it meant something. he scanned his eyes across your warm cheeks, sparkling eyes, slightly furrowed brows, chapped lips. he thought you looked like an angel. and the words spilling from his throat weren’t entirely intentional.

“i think i love you, or something.”

your heart rate spiked, eyes blown wide, but you hesitated, “or something, you reckon?”

he shook his head, “no. no, i love you.”

while your lack of response was entirely the fault of shock, rather than unreciprocation, that wasn’t apparent to the nervous boy who’d just confessed his feelings for you, albeit half unwittingly. his brain was still catching up with his words when you were kissing him, and he was kissing back on instinct.

that didn’t surprise leo, his instincts were usually screaming to kiss you.

🏷️ — @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @sw34terw34ther @juneberrie @meredarling

[leclercskiesahead]

Oh my god more black fireproofs for wallpaper Wednesday

[darubyprincx]

Evil Xisuma is fascinated by lizards.

There's some in the Nether, of course, bejewled in crimson and golden and black, but those types usually hide out near the lava pools, and EX isn't fireproof, not by a long shot. They tried to catch one once, but they burnt their hands and got told off gently by X when they came home and the lizard escaped. There's some in the trees, but they're venomous and lightning fast.

The ones in the Overworld are much friendlier, so whenever they can, they walk over there and find a mangrove swamp far out, where the Overworld lizards like to hide. They're skittish, but EX has found that if you're gentle, they'll let you hold them.

Why lizards and not like, frogs or something? They don't know. They just think they're neat.

One evening, EX found themself in a particularly foggy swamp, grumbling as they picked their way through sprawling tree roots and mud that pulled at their boots much like the soul sand did. They were getting lost. They didn't care. This server had respawn enabled, anyways. But as they trod deeper and deeper in, something felt a little... off.

"Where are these lizards?" they grumbled, loudly enough to get the attention of a nearby breeze, which ruffled the leaves. Wait.

You can't be noticed by the wind.

"Hello?" they asked, looking up.

Somewhere to the front and right of them and very much on the ground, a twig snapped. A light came out of the fog, and a figure wearing a very broad hat walked into view.

"I'm telling you, Joel," they sighed, "you can't be in here. Especially not after dark. It's dangerous, the ghosts might- who are you?" They stopped and leaned closer, confusion clear on their face.

"If you're asking for a name, I won't give it," said EX. "They're powerful things."

"Fair enough," shrugged the stranger. "There have been some weird things happening around here lately. I'm the swamp witch. What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for lizards," said EX.

"In full body armor?"

"My lungs are shit. I have to wear this. Also, it's comfortable."

"Oh, so you're the swearing type," said the stranger with a frown. "Okay."

EX sighed. "I've never met you in my life, but you've already managed to sound exactly like my brother."

"Your brother??"

"Yes, my brother. People have them, idiot. I'm not giving my name away but I'll sure as hell give you his- Xisuma. I could pr-"

"Wait, wait, hold on," said the stranger, cutting them off with a wave of their hand. "Xisuma?"

"Weird name, I know."

"No, I mean I've met him. I never knew he had a brother."

"Sibling," corrected EX. "Also, what?"

"My bad," said the witch. They sighed. "Listen, whatever, I don't know how you got here, but you should probably go. There's some dangerous stuff in here, especially at night." They looked around warily as if to prove their point.

EX laughed. "You're tripping if you think that I'm scared of your stupid swamp. It's just a slightly damp forest. What could possibly live in here that I would be scared of?"

On cue, the wind picked up. The stranger looked around frantically. "You need to go." A bunch of blue lights appeared at the edges of the lamplight. "Now."

The wind blew a myriad of leaves into EX's face and they stumbled backwards as the yellow light receded rapidly, tripping over a tree root just as one of the blue lights came into focus. The last thing they thought before their head hit the ground was that it sorta looked like a face.

When they sat up, it was morning. The fog was gone. They looked around to see where it went, but there was none.

"Weird," they said.

Three unread messages from Worm Boy.

Dude, where are you? It's getting late.

EX? I'm going to bed now but please message me if you see this.

Just woke up. If you don't respond by lunchtime, I'm calling Xisuma.

"Hey. Sorry. I fell asleep while lizard hunting," they typed, then sent it with a sigh. What a mess.

A small blue wisp floated up where they had stepped as they walked out of the forest.