#:') its my comfort series ngl

[dekuofficial]

hmmm do i go to bed early (doomscroll), keep gaming at my computer, or is it floor time? so many options, and so much time to waste sigh

[qiu-yan]

haterisms beneath the cut

this hater poll brought to you by....a series of Bad Mcfucking Takes i had to read with my own eyeballs. seriously did we read the same book or not.

explanations:

"jiang cheng killed wei wuxian": jiang cheng did not kill wei wuxian in any version of the story. in mdzs wei wuxian died from backlash and in cql wei wuxin chose to let go of lan wangji after jiang cheng stabbed the cliff face. you can argue till the cows come home about how responsible jiang cheng is for wei wuxian's demise, but "jiang cheng killed wei wuxian" is just factually incorrect.

"jiang cheng abuses jin ling": jiang cheng does not abuse jin ling. first, the narration goes out of its way to establish that jiang cheng does not hit jin ling, specifically in a setting where hitting children is normalized and expected. in fact, wei wuxian says that jin ling is bratty specifically because he's never been hit. second, jin ling is also clearly comfortable talking back to jiang cheng and needling him in a way jiang cheng definitely was not with his own parents. even when jiang cheng is actively losing it when he captures wei wuxian in qinghe, jin ling remains completely unruffled - which speaks to how much jin ling takes for granted that he is safe with jiang cheng.

"jiang cheng could have easily helped the wen remnants, he just didn't": antis love to act like yunmeng jiang could have easily taken in the wemnants and jiang cheng simply chose not to because he was a hater/super jelly/various synonyms for ontologically evil. which is not the fucking case. learn to read. yunmeng jiang's own position post sunshot was very weak - they were a great sect in name only and were excluded from the alliance tying the three other great sects together - and jiang cheng could not politically afford to protect wei wuxian after wei wuxian alienated lanling jin. that's why jiang cheng says "if you insist on doing this, i can't protect you," and why wei wuxian then tells jiang cheng to let him go. because they both understand this. come on

"jiang cheng forced jiang yanli to marry jin zixuan": jiang yanli as a character makes so many sacrifices for her family and her brothers. her relationship with zixuan is like the one thing she chooses for herself. she loves him!! the tragedy in wei wuxian killing jin zixuan is that yanli genuinely loved zixuan!! ngl i think antis argue this purely to try to exonerate wei wuxian: if jiang yanli didn't love jin zixuan then wei wuxian donutting him isn't a problem anymore, apparently. this is the result of people thinking of jiang yanli as purely a thing for wei wuxian, rather than a human being in her own right.

"jiang cheng should have protected wei wuxian from yu ziyuan": this one is annoying because jiang cheng was also a child. when a child is abused, it is the fault of the abuser, not the fault of another child who is also subject to the whims of the abuser. come on.

[beardedjoel]

smother - part i: deliverance

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: starving. lost. desperate. you find a cabin in the woods, and to your dismay, it's occupied. a plan to have a quick bite of food with an intense, intriguing stranger turns into more than you'd bargained for when he makes you realize everything you've been missing out on. 8.6k words chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! noncon, nonconsensual touching, dubcon - reader eventually enthusiastically consents but the syndrome is stockholming so its dubcon, reader is a virgin, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55) manipulation/lying/gaslighting, slow burn and tension building chapter, joel is kind of a creepy menace ngl a/n: i'm so so very excited to share the first chapter of my new series! (if this flops after how much i got hyped for it i will be logging off forever) the themes in this story are dark so if the tags aren’t for you it’s understandable & just keep scrollin on by! this will end up being nasty and smutty, but only after a wee bit of buildup so don't fear. comments and reblogs are always beyond appreciated!

Save me. Please, anyone…

Another wave of desolate, crying desperation tears through you as you trudge along, tripping yet again - maybe over your own two feet, a root, the very ground you walk on, something. You’re much too hazy and burnt out to even care what you stumbled on as you just press on, press on, press on.

A wave of pain rolls through your stomach again as it burns cavernously empty. You move as a ghost, a shell of yourself now, using passing trees as support. Your hands touch the cold wood reluctantly, a painful little hiss through your teeth as your fingers practically cramp up from the cold. You’d lost your gloves somewhere along the way, days ago now, what feels like a lifetime. You need to stop and rest desperately now, your body close to giving out. Your heart hammers in fear, wondering if you’d even be able to get up again.

A cabin comes into view in the distance, tucked nicely in a clearing of trees. You think your eyes are deceiving you, that you’ve finally succumbed to the madness that comes with such hunger and loneliness, your brain conjuring up images to comfort you. You see smoke coming out of a chimney on the roof, and your heart equally swells and drops at the discovery - it’s not a shelter for you alone, no. Not a lucky discovery, somewhere to lay your head tonight that’s dry and warm without disturbance. Someone already lives here, has a home here, and they might not take too kindly to strangers. If there’s anything you’ve learned in the last few weeks of your own personal hell, it’s to tread carefully. Always.

You keep your footsteps light and quiet, trying to approach with some semblance of caution. Your empty stomach is pushing you along, begging for any scrap of food that might be inside, hopefully offered up to you by the kindness of a stranger. Berries and the occasional rabbit or lucky can of food found were not enough to live off of anymore - you could feel the way your body faded away by the day, losing any bit of strength you’d had in the first place.

You pause, hitching your breath and then barely daring to breathe at all when you get close enough to hear a sound - a low, throaty grunting followed by the crack of wood. Your eyes scan the area as you sneak closer and then land upon him. He’s broad and muscled, you can see that much from back here. Messy, dark hair that curls all around his head and down his neck. When his body turns enough that you see his face a little bit more, you notice he looks older and has dark, piercing eyes. They send a shudder through you, even from afar, only making you feel colder out in this frosty afternoon.

You wrap your coat a little tighter and decide to get closer, assess the situation, see if he seems friendly enough to give you something to eat and send you on your merry way. He swings an ax high up in the air and brings it down swiftly onto a large piece of wood, splitting it before tossing the logs into a pile already full of more firewood. You press your lips together, noticing how strong he is, betting there are well built up muscles underneath that flannel shirt of his. That makes him a threat, a big one, you quickly assess. 

You’re too distracted, not watching your step, when a large branch cracks underneath your boot. You wince and squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, holding perfectly still, your breath coming out in quick, staccato exhales.

“H-hey!” you hear a gruff voice, sounding out of breath. You peek your eyes open slowly to see the man looking in your direction and silently curse yourself. “C’mon out!” he yells, and you see him reach to his waist, hands grazing a shining revolver holstered there.

Your stomach pulls into tight knots and you stand frozen for a few moments. Your brain quickly assesses everything, weighing the options. Running away, with no possibility of eating a single thing is one option, but the likelihood this stranger will shoot you seems high no matter what, so you decide to take your chances.

You put your hands in front of you, palms out, and slowly emerge from behind the trees. You walk gingerly along the crisp, frosty grass, crunching under your feet every step of the way. Your anxious breaths come out in little puffs in front of you as the cold air enters and exits your lungs.

The man falters, his fist closing and then opening again, pulling away from the revolver on his hip a bit. He blinks hard, staring at you in this silent showdown. “W-well shit, you’re just a girl…” he finally says quietly to himself, his posture relaxing a little. You stand perfectly still, choked up now that you’re confronted with the idea of speaking to him, such a large, imposing wall of a man, and those eyes, god, those eyes.

“I’m not gonna hurt you if you don’t give me a reason to, now, girl.” His voice is the tiniest bit softer, and you pick up on his Southern drawl, an accent you’ve heard a few times before. “Do ya need help?” He wipes his forehead with the back of his arm, a gleam of sweat having built up from chopping wood and his large chest still heaving. He takes a step closer to you, and you don’t step back, but feel every muscle coil up tightly as your mind screams at you that this was a mistake, a huge fucking mistake. Your feet tingle, toes flexing and getting ready to run, but you can’t make yourself do it, to take that first step.

Instead, you nod. “I- y-yes…” you say quietly. You’ll never understand why you say it, other than the fact that you’re drawn in by him, by his chestnut hair flecked with gray, his patchy beard that he’s currently scratching. By his build that looks so… safe yet dangerous, but you get the feeling that no, he’d never hurt you. You envision those arms wrapping around you, holding you tightly, shielding you from the world and everything you’ve been through. You never thought much about relationships or boys before - just a few simple and innocent crushes, but it hadn’t been on your radar as such a shy kid and teenager. But this… this was what people talked about - attraction. It nearly stole your breath the closer you got to him, threatening to suck you into what felt like an endless void. 

“Alright,” the man replies, trying to match your quieter demeanor. He glances around, eyes narrowed and scanning the woods beyond you. “You with anyone? Or all alone out here?”

You know why he’s asking, you’ve seen what people can do - sending someone innocent and unimposing out to lay a trap, but you don’t lie when you shake your head. “A-alone. I’m alone, swear, sir.”

His jaw seems to tick, noticeable even from the distance you’re at before he answers you. “Okay, then. C’mon a little closer, I won’t bite, okay?” he says, and he’s so convincing that you do believe him, despite your instincts telling you otherwise. The world is cruel and unrelenting, taking away most of the trust you’ve ever had in humanity the second you place it into anything or anyone. 

You move a little closer, small, gentle steps, and he nods encouragingly. 

“Now there ya go. Look at ya…” he marvels with a click of his tongue, shaking his head once you’re just a few feet away from him. 

He takes in your messy hair, slightly matted from wearing a winter hat on and off the last few weeks and sleeping on the ground. Your clothes have seen better days too, your skin smudged with dirt no matter how many water sources you found to try and rinse off a little bit. Even despite all of that, he gazes at you with a curiosity, with that look of interest that you felt like you’d given him without trying to. It’s quiet for another moment, the both of you sizing each other up, until Joel’s look turns a little more pitiful when you shiver as a sudden gust of wind whips past you, your threadbare coat doing little to protect you from the chill in the air here. You can’t be sure if your shuddering has less to do with the wind and more with the way that this man’s eyes are digging into what feels like your very soul.

“We gotta get you inside, okay? You’re shakin’, and you look like you ain’t had a proper meal in… too long…” He continues to eye you up and down, taking in your weak frame. 

You stay silent for another moment, swallowing hard and then shuddering again. “I - I don’t know…” you breathe out. You might have some sudden, fantastical dream that this man is your savior, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be cautious - the mind is a tricky, deceiving thing.

“I ain’t gonna ask again, ain’t gonna beg ya, girl. C’mon,” he says a little more roughly, a hand shooting out quickly and grabbing you by the wrist and tugging. “Just want to get a good meal in you, alright?”

You wince at the grasp on your wrist, the roughness and hardness he’s starting to show you, but you let him pull, starting to move your feet and trail after him. 

“T-thank you…sir,” you murmur quietly, and he swings his head to look back at you, his eyes softening. 

“You’re welcome. Now get inside and get warm. I’ve got a fire goin’.” He lets go of your wrist, trusting you to follow him as his heavy boots clunk up the few steps leading to the front door of his cabin. It’s modest, beautifully constructed, all dark wood around the outside and a small porch. You start to wonder if this man built it himself, or just found it as it is. Your initial impression of him leads you to believe that he does seem like the type to build a whole god damn cabin. He half looks like a lumberjack already in the plaid flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. 

“Found this place ‘bout five years ago,” he says as if he could read your mind while he swings the door open. “Real nice and private, so don’t worry.”

Your eyes narrow slightly at his last comment, but you try to brush it off as you enter inside with him. The warm air hits your body, an immediate balm to your frayed nerves and chilled skin, a slightly smoky smell from the fire hits your nostrils and you immediately hear the crackle and pop of the logs in the little fireplace. The cabin is mainly one big room, a kitchen tucked into the corner right to the left of the door, and the living room beyond that with cozy couches and chairs, even a TV that you doubt is working but find yourself hopeful for some reason. It’s been a long time since you were able to watch a movie, flashing back to childhood memories when you’d lived in a more stable, thriving community that had power. 

Stairs beyond that lead to what you assume are bedrooms or a bathroom, and your eyes curiously take in all the little details and decor - the man’s jackets hanging along the wall near the entrance, his rifle propped next to the door and several different pairs of worn boots. 

You realize you’re just standing right near the doorway, silently looking around in a daze while your new acquaintance has been trying to get your attention. 

“Hey, girl, I’m talkin’ t’ya…” his voice says, the noise fading back into your consciousness.

You shake your head. “S-sorry,” you say quietly, a shy little squeak. “I was just -“

“S’alright. I got some stew goin’, that okay? I mean y’don’t have much of a choice, but I’ll ask anyhow,” he says with a wry chuckle. You simply nod in response. 

“Now go on, put your things down and sit ‘n get comfortable,” he waves towards the general direction of the kitchen table and the couch before turning back to the stove to stir the pot simmering there. You stand, feeling frozen still, panic threatening to climb up through your insides and completely take over. You still don’t feel safe, despite this man offering to warm you and feed you. How could you, you think, when you’ve been running for several weeks, trying to get away from the carnage that became your life. 

He eyes you, unmoving and frightened looking and sighs heavily. “I said,” he says, tension thickening in the air around you, “Sit.”

You clear your throat, desert dry and scratchy, and set your backpack by the door, slowly creeping over to the couch, not wanting to make this mystery man any angrier. You settle yourself down and the cushions feel like heaven, your legs and body achy from the lack of comfort you’ve had for weeks. You try not to show just how good it feels to settle into the soft, plush fabric, letting the cushions mold to your body.

“Good,” Joel coos as he glances at you from the stove. “Now that we’ve got you settled in, you got a name?”

You weakly tell him your name and he shows you the first little smile you’ve seen from him, nodding. “Gotcha. I’m Joel, okay?”

“O-okay.” You push the words out while you watch him stir the pot on the stove. You sit in silence for a few moments, thankful for the time to just catch your breath and think. Just one bowl of stew, and you’ll be out of here. You’ll ask if there’s a community nearby, somewhere that could take you in, then grab that information and run, not bother this man any more than you need to.

Joel walks over, handing you a cup of water that you shamelessly start to gulp down before he goes back and ladles some of the delicious smelling stew into a bowl. The second the scent hits you, your stomach rumbles loudly. Joel cracks a smile as he hears it and continues ladling, a brow quirked. 

“Hungry, huh?” he asks, walking the steaming bowl over to you with a spoon. You gingerly take it from his hands, being careful not to brush your still chilled fingers against his. You swear his eyes flash at you when he notices how avoidant you’re being, but he turns and walks back to the stove, getting himself a bowl as well. Joel settles down into a chair across from the couch where you sit with a weathered groan, just watching you for a few quiet moments. It does everything but put you at ease, your stomach twisting a little. You blow on a spoonful of stew before taking a bite, your mouth an explosion as it waters and takes in the delicious, rich, food. 

“Mmm,” you whine out, unable to help it. Your body wants to lunge forward, lap the stew up until every single drop is in your starved body and you can finally feel a sense of fullness again. You quickly take another spoonful, much too hot, and wince a little as it hits your tongue. 

“Slow on down, girl,” Joel says. “Let’s talk a little and it’ll slow down your eating.”

You just stare, noticing your body is trembling a little bit, and has been since you met Joel outside. You try to take a deep breath to settle your nerves, your legs so tensely pressed together that it's starting to hurt.

“You feelin’ afraid of me, that it?” he asks you, looking a little too self satisfied at the observation as he crosses his arms and leans towards you. His biceps bulge and stretch with the motion and you can’t help but find your eyes drawn to them, the way they pull at the soft flannel of his shirt. You feel your face heat up all the way to your ears and you blink hard, averting your eyes. 

“I- I mean… I don’t know you…” you mutter, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

“I know,” he says, sounding more sympathetic. “Done some bad things in my time, so hell, maybe you should be scared of me. I ain’t a nice guy. But I won’t hurt someone like you, promise ya that.” His words are enough of a reason for you to hightail it out of here the first second you can, but why do you believe them? Why do you believe him?

“How d-do you know I’m not bad too? That I don’t deserve it?” His eyes narrow and his lip twitches into a smirk before he lets out a mocking little chuckle in your direction.

“Oh sweetheart, a man jus’ knows these things. You never hurt even a fly, now have you?” That smirk stays plastered on Joel’s face as he asks and it frustrates you how little of a threat he sees in you, how little fight you have left to give. Yet you can’t find yourself blaming him, you think. If you were facing yourself in his position you’re sure you’d look like as much of a feeble joke as you feel.

You frown, still unable to look him in the eyes for longer than a few seconds, and shake your head. “No… just for hunting…” you admit.

“Alright then. Y’don’t need to act tough in front of me, girl, got it?” Joel concludes, going back to eating his stew.

“Got it,” you respond quietly, letting yourself sink further into the couch as you feel your muscles slowly relaxing.

“Now tell me... what’s this all about? What’s a little young thing like you doin’ out here by herself?”

You bite your lip and sip slowly on another spoonful of stew. “I’m… uh…” you stutter nervously. 

“Spit it out now, there’s nothin’ to be afraid of here, hm?” Joel tries reassuring you, but his words keep coming out so gruffly, doing little to make you feel much better. 

You inhale a deep breath. “Okay…” You swallow. “I was in a… community. I lived there a long time. T-they’re all gone now, I think. We got completely overrun and so I ran.” You sniffle as your nose starts to run from the warmth of the house opposing the cold you’d gotten accustomed to. 

Joel leans forward a bit in his chair, taking a hearty bite of stew, mulling your words over. “Overrun how?” he asks simply, glancing at you, studying your movements, your body language, everything. 

“U-uh, hunters, raiders, whatever they are. Bad.. b-bad people…” You look down at your bowl, not wanting to meet the intensity of his gaze, afraid to fall into his strange, hard warmth. 

“Hm… awful fuckers, ain’t they,” he says, scratching a hand down his beard. “You got away, then?”

You nod and bite inside of your lip, taking another spoonful of stew to keep yourself occupied. “Y-yeah. I ran and ran… just kept… going. They took everything, took over all of our homes…”

Joel sighs, his eyes finally going a little softer. “‘M sorry to hear that, darlin’. You know if anyone is still alive?”

You shrug. “No…”

“Your family? They with ya at this community?”

“Oh.” You shake your head. “No. They… all, uh, passed a long time ago.” Why the hell are you being so open with this stranger? You don’t owe him your story, your secrets, any of it. But you sense the urge to share it, anyhow. Maybe you’re just that desperate for human connection right now. 

“Mm, sorry to hear it again. We all know that feelin’ in a world like this,” he replies thoughtfully. Your eyes widen a bit at the softness he’s showing you right now and you give him a tight lipped smile to show your own sympathy for his losses. 

“You feel up for tellin’ me a little more about the attack? S’okay if it’s too much,” Joel adds on, still studying you with an odd gaze, almost like he’s drinking you in, quenching some thirst he had. His hand twitches, almost as if to reach out to you, but he’s much too far from where he sits right now. 

“I’m not sure if t-there’s much to tell…” you start, but then you find yourself spilling out more details, feeling the freeing sensation of unloading your burdens onto someone else. You tell Joel your community was small but well taken care of, plenty of supplies and food, in an abundant time in its history the last few months. One evening everything changed, when an armed group of mostly men came in, a few women and children in tow, looking absolutely miserable, and they aimed their guns in the air and shot off a few rounds to get everyone’s attention. People came flooding out of their homes, trying to run, only to be tackled or shot down, forced to give up our food and belongings. You tried to hide for as long as you could before slipping out of the home you shared with an older couple who had been taking care of you since you were a teenager, Harry and Josephine. They’d urged you to run, run, run, so you did. Then came your lost days, where you had no clue where you were, when you’d find your next semblance of humanity. Just trying to head west, further and further from the bitter memories you’d now have to leave behind. Barren towns and wilderness passed you over the days, hardly seeing another soul as you hid from infected, spending your nights crying yourself to sleep when you had the energy. 

And now… here you were, sitting on Joel’s couch and eating stew. Unsure of what the hell you’d do next or where you had to go. You had been an orphan for a long time, but this felt deeper, like you were an orphan to the entire world, almost, like you had nothing to even call your own now. 

Joel sits patiently, watching you stumble on words as you tell your story to him, trying not to get too choked up as all the emotions resurface. How empty things had been, how desolate the landscapes to match your faintly beating heart.

He’s leaned fully forward now in his seat, stew somewhat forgotten in his lap as you finish your recounting of the last few weeks. He breathes in and out, a large, heavy sigh that fills the room. It’s still now, fully quiet for a moment. 

“You’re a strong girl for goin’ through all of that, you know that?” he says finally, eyes softer than you’ve seen them yet. 

You just look down, returning to your stew, taking a few bites now that it’s at the perfect temperature. You’ve stopped shaking now, your body warmed up and starting to recognize that you’re getting full. You can’t eat much, your stomach unable to handle more just yet, so you push the stew away, setting it on the coffee table in front of you.

“Yeah…” you say, not really believing it as you glance out the window to watch the late afternoon sun, glaring off the ground outside, light filtering through the trees. 

“You got somewhere to go? After you’re fed and looked over, of course,” Joel asks, his eyebrow shooting up.

You consider lying, just to avoid what you’re afraid he’ll ask you. What you’re afraid you’ll say yes to. You still end up shaking your head silently, clearing your throat. You feel a sting of tears behind your eyes, your whole body going hot with the need to cry, but a deep desire to not show that weakness to him holds you back. You sniffle and blink, studying the knots in the old wood floors.

“Hey,” Joel says, trying to get your attention, to make you show him your vulnerability. “Look at me, c’mon now.” You hear him shift in his seat, a small movement born of irritation as you refuse to do as he says.

You sniffle again and clear your throat, a shake of your head making your hair fall forward, covering and hiding you further. 

“I said look at me.” That stern tone of his is back, sending a shudder through you and fear rippling deep inside your chest. You flick your red rimmed, shining eyes up to his, meeting the dark brown stare, lines permanently etched in between his eyes from all his years of worry.

“Atta girl,” he coos, completely pleasant now. “I got you, okay? You can stay, if ya need. I got food, a home, a warm bed for ya. If you have nowhere else.”

One more blink sends the tears falling down your cheeks, fat and overdue as they slide down your dirty skin, leaving tracks. You sniffle and nod, suddenly feeling a rush of gratitude towards Joel. He may be a stranger, but he fed you, got you warm, and is offering just about the kindest thing he can right now - an invasion on his space, his personal sanctuary, all for a girl he hardly even knows. 

“Y-you’d really do that?” you ask, a little incredulously, like this is a dream you’re about to wake up from any time now. 

He nods, a half smile pulling at the corner of his lips. Satisfaction plastered there now that he’s swayed you in his direction. “I would. Now I don’t wanna hear another word about it. You need to rest, you’ve been through a lot.”

“T-thank you. B-but-”

“Not. Another. Word,” he practically hisses, flashing his eyes angrily before it fizzles out quickly. You can see him practically having to reign in his impulsiveness in the moment. “There ain’t anywhere else to go that’ll keep you as safe as here, I’m tellin’ you that now. You’d be fuckin’ lost out there.” He sits back with his arms crossed now, and you’re worried that you’ve truly upset him now, that unsettling look in his eye glinting again. He wants you to stay… nearly seems to need it. It scares you, yet you feel a tug, a pull, some form of intrigue wanting you to explore that need, understand just what he could see in you.

“I’m s-sorry… I just - you’ve already done a lot for me, and I’d hate to, well, impose, or something,” you say, trying to appease him. It’s mostly true, anyhow, that you do hate to take Joel’s food and time away from him. 

He stands up and silently walks the few steps over to the couch, sitting down next to you, turning himself towards you. It feels like every muscle in your body tenses at his proximity - it makes him seem even bigger the way he takes up his cushion on the couch, body sinking in deeply, his wide shoulders practically a shield to you right now to everything behind him. Something about seeing him up this close is sending you reeling, able to study the lines in his face, his strong, wiry beard streaked with a few gray spots. You flick your eyes over his face, hoping to not be too obvious, but needing to drink him in, learn his features.

“I’m gonna have you listen to me right now, okay? Make sure you’re listenin’ real good, sweetheart.” He pauses for a moment to catch your eye, reaching a hand towards you but resting it right next to your thigh on the couch. “I’m offerin’ somethin’ mighty nice to you, ain’t I? You were ‘bout to die out there, if I’m honest. Much longer and you’d be a goner, I think. Don’t you?”

He’s waiting for a real answer from you, you realize, so you nod, eyes practically unblinking as you hang on his words, a hot coil burning in your stomach as you feel uneasiness eat at you.

“Right.” He sighs quietly. “I’m not tryin’ to be mean, sweetheart. In fact, I care a lot, that’s why I’m tellin’ the truth to ya like this. You ain’t built to be on your own, can see that clear as day. So I’ll have ya stay here and get fed and get your bearings. And I don’t want to hear anymore about it.” 

Of all the things Joel has just said to you, the thing that is stuck in your mind as you turn it over, is the way he’d said he cares. He cares about you. Would that be such a bad thing to be cared for, even if just for a little bit?

You give him a small dip of your head, a shaky smile coming to your lips. “Thank you. I’m uh, grateful.” You’re not sure what else to say, feeling like you’re signing yourself away to something you don’t feel sure about. 

“Ah look at that - a smile,” he says, clearly feeling much more light hearted now that you’ve agreed to accept his help. 

You sit back a little, your muscles finally losing some of their tension and start to eye Joel a little more curiously. “S-so you just live here all by yourself?” you ask, wishing you weren’t still such a stuttering mess. The fact was, this man made you nervous, in a way that you weren’t used to. He scared you, but in a way that it drew you in, a magnetic pull you couldn’t quite explain yet. Something in him commanded respect, reverence, almost, without trying. It was mesmerizing to witness, completely scrambling your mind if you started to think on it too hard. 

“Mhm,” Joel nods languidly, finishing off his stew and then sitting back with a satisfied sigh. He eyes your bowl that’s only half empty and then flicks them back to your face. “Ain’t gonna finish?” he asks, sounding a little irritated before his face softens. “Probably can’t fit much in your little belly right now, huh? Shrunk right up when you didn’t eat much these last few weeks.”

You nod. “I-it was good, I just… I couldn’t finish. It started to hurt…”

His eyes flash with concern. “We’ll take it slow, then,” he says, a little smile creeping onto his face.

You had noticed his avoidance to say much more about himself, so you decide to try your luck and press him again. You clear your throat, trying to turn towards him a little more as well. “You live alone. Don’t you… do you ever talk to other people?”

Joel chuckles, almost condescendingly. “‘Course I do. Town not too far from here - Jackson. I go once and a while to stock up, trade ‘em for some stuff and they’re mighty hospitable to me.”

You nod, trying not to let his snide laugh and tone get to you too much, blinking away the sensitive little tears that threaten to fall again. Joel cocks his head suddenly, seeming to notice. “T-that sounds pretty nice,” you choke out quickly.

“Sorry if I upset ya. Guess you’re right, don’t get enough practice talkin’ to people,” he says a little lighter now, smiling softly again. Joel’s version of a smile seems to only be a soft upturn of his lips, not friendly by nature. It puts you at ease and unease at the same time, that smile of his, but you’d rather see that than the scowl he was sporting at you earlier today. He pats your thigh a few times, showing his apology, and you watch his large hands move on you, noticing they’re scratched and rough. A man’s hands.

“W-wait… Jackson… this town. It’s close by?” you ask, glancing back up at him, the wheels in your head starting to turn. 

Joel’s face falls in an almost dramatic fashion, the lines between his eyes and around his cheeks getting deeper. “Why d’ya ask?” he says, his tone short and frayed sounding, leaning forward again, practically glaring at you from under his eyebrows.

Your own face falls, jaw slack for a moment before it tightens back up. “I just… I want to get out of your hair as quickly as possible, I-I don’t want to be a bother. Could find a new community there, or something…” You feel quiet as a mouse, unsure of how to assert yourself in front of Joel - it feels like there isn’t space for it when you share a room with him.

Joel’s expression becomes more stern. “Didn’t I already tell you, girl, that I’d take care of everythin’?” he spits out, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. You’re visibility tense now, your hands pressing into the cushions of the couch, ready to get up at any moment and bolt. “Y’don’t want to go to a place like that, so big, you’d be lost there, darlin’. Nobody to take care of you…”

He sits back a little, hands falling into his lap and an eyebrow cocked at you. “‘Sides,” he says, glancing out the window for a moment before studying you again. “Too far to go on your own. Can’t have you gettin’ lost in these woods again… look what happened last time, yeah?”

Maybe he’s right. You barely survived these last few weeks without completely losing your mind, and then your life, as he’s been so apt to tell you several times now. Joel… he saved you, and is offering you a place to stay, so the least you could do is be grateful for now. You could always convince him tomorrow, after you’ve had time to think and reset, to take you there, show you the way, and you can see for yourself if it’s a good fit for you or not.

“Y-yeah…” you stutter out, nodding. The look he shoots you has you choking out the next word before you can even think about it. “Yes,” you say more definitively.

“It’s settled then,” he says matter-of-factly, breathing in deeply, his burly chest rising, and then letting it out in a long, slow breath. “You probably wanna get some rest, yeah? I can set up the bed for ya.” Joel says, standing up and grabbing your bowl, taking it to the kitchen along with his empty one. 

“Do y-“ you start, standing up off the couch. 

“Yeah, I got two bedrooms, don’t worry.” His smile grows, liking that he found you predictable enough to know what you were about to ask. Your shoulders sag a little in relief and you give Joel more of a proper smile now, nodding your thanks.

“That would be great, then, yeah. And if it’s not too much…” you voice trails off and you stare at the ground, focusing your eyes on the pattern of the well worn rug underneath your feet. “Maybe a shower, bath, whatever you’ve got.”

Joel turns to face you and then walks back into the living area. He has a calm, serene expression, slightly lit up. “I’ll do ya one better. Get you some clean clothes to wear after that shower, too.”

Nothing in the entire world sounds better than what he’s offering right now.

You hiss loudly as the hot, steaming water hits your leg when you step in. Within moments, you’re basking under it, watching the dirt and dried blood from your various scrapes and scratches swirl down the drain for what feels like ages, finally seeing the water run clear as you lather up the threadbare washcloth Joel had left out for you and scrub yourself down. Every nook, every cranny, your scalp, face, everywhere you could get three times over. You can’t remember the last time you’d felt so clean, even when you’d lived back with your community. You hum happily for a few moments, letting the water soothe you for just a while longer. You hoped Joel could forgive you for taking a little bit of extra hot water today given the circumstances.

Joel hears the water running from downstairs, his fists balling up and relaxing over and over as he sits on his favorite chair, his gaze facing the stairs leading to the spare bedroom and attached bathroom. He feels tense, rolling his neck, continuing to pump his fists open and closed. A feeling in the back of his neck, traveling down his spine and legs that he couldn’t ignore - an urge. He stands up an instant later, not bothering with his well-ignored conscience, and walks upstairs and through the bedroom door with careful steps as he still has on his boots. He presses a hand onto the brass doorknob, turning it slowly, ever so slowly, pushing the door open just an inch, just… enough.

His eyes fall on the shower curtain, a white cloth that perfectly shows your silhouette through it. The valleys and curves of your body move around, arms scrubbing yourself. Joel can smell the evergreen scented soap drifting through the steamy, thick air, watching your body move fluidly as you start to hum quietly to yourself and rinse off.

He wishes he could lie to himself, deny that he felt the blood rush straight to his cock at this little show he was watching. So content, so sweet, so vulnerable right now. Need consumes his every cell - the need to show you just how good you could have it here, to take every bit of you for himself. He grins, a hungry little twitch of his mouth, moving to shut the door when a floorboard creaks under his heavy boot, and he freezes, shuffling out of the way quickly.

You’re humming quietly when you hear it, just a distant sound, but enough to catch your ear. A creak of a floorboard, something you figure isn’t unusual for an old cabin like this, but you feel a shiver run down your spine and rush to turn the water off. You throw the curtain open, water dripping down into your eyes. You quickly rub your fingers over them and glance around the spacious bathroom to find… nothing. You sigh, shaking your head, nearly laughing at the relief you feel. You’re just being paranoid, you chastise yourself as you grab the towel off the hook, squeezing the extra water out of your hair and wrapping it around yourself, snuggling into the simple comfort of a fluffy towel as you dry yourself off. 

Your fingers freeze, running cold when you reach the door, noticing a few inches of space that has the door cracked open. You swore up and down that you’d shut the door behind you, giving you that extra layer of privacy in a stranger's home. It wasn’t possible that… no, you think quickly, shaking your head again. You have to stop being so damn paranoid - your brain is just in survival mode still, looking for threats that aren’t there. 

You step into the bedroom, surveying the heavy wood furniture - an extremely cozy, country feel to the room with large logs comprising the bed frame and a patchwork quilt draped over the top. You peer around, feeling somewhat squirmy at the realization you don’t have any clothing. Joel seemingly came in and took your dirty clothes while you were in the shower, failing to leave you anything clean. It made you feel that strange swirl deep in your stomach again, the one you kept brushing off.

This is a kind man. A kind man, got it? Positive thinking.

You decide to pull it together and head out and down the stairs to the living room. You feel your cheeks heat up, a hot heat creeping all over your body as you feel so exposed, standing in your tiny towel as you descend the stairs. Joel’s eyes follow you down, watching your glowing skin, so fresh and clean, hair dripping errantly, leaving water droplets on the floor in your wake. You see a flash of something a little cloudy and hungry in his gaze before it disappears just as quickly as he showed it. 

He isn’t saying a word, isn’t offering anything, so you swallow down your discomfort and clear your throat a little. “Er… I noticed there weren’t any… clothes… for me…”

Joel sits up a little straighter, putting down the book he’s been looking at. He offers you a smile devoid of much emotion and stands up, his eyes locking on your hips for a few extra seconds. “Shucks, sorry about that, sweetheart. Let’s get you something right now. Got your old clothes ready to be done next time I do the washin’.”

You nod, fighting the urge to chuckle nervously as he walks over and passes you, his arm brushing your damp, bare one before he heads up the stairs. You’re grateful you get to trail him, afraid of just how skimpy this towel is if he’d have insisted on following behind you. You follow him into the other bedroom, his bedroom, and it’s a little more decorated, some books and little wooden carvings on the surfaces, dirty laundry scattered throughout. He opens up a drawer and tugs out a tee shirt, handing it to you, then a pair of gray sweatpants and warm, thick socks. 

“These should fit alright for ya, honey. We’ll get you some more proper fittin’ stuff soon, just gotta have a look around this place. This’ll be nice and warm for ya f’now.” He seems more chipper now, clearly much more talkative than before, and you suppose you don’t mind the change too much. It’s only proving that your paranoia was completely unfounded, just a symptom of your current circumstances. You typically find yourself a pretty trusting person, enough to have gotten you in trouble before, but the events of the last few weeks have broken that for you, leaving you feeling like a shell of who you once were. 

You snap back to reality and take the clothing in your arms, nodding in gratitude. “Thank you. I’ll go, um, change.”

Before you turn, Joel’s voice booms through the air again. “Need anythin’ else to eat? Anythin’ I can get you?” He almost sounds hopeful, like he wants you to need something from him. His eyes linger on your body, leaving you feeling just as naked as if you didn’t have the towel over you at all. 

You shake your head nervously. “Er, if it’s alright with you, I think I just want to rest… A full night’s sleep in a bed sounds like heaven right now.” 

“Let’s get you on off to heaven, then.” He grins, letting you leave the room before trailing after you, waiting outside your door while you change into your clothes. You discover some women’s underwear in the drawers inside of your bedroom, gratefully putting on a clean pair before throwing on everything Joel gave you. It’s comfortable and dry, so you won’t complain about the fit or the style - you’d still be in your dirty, worn down clothes if it weren’t for him. 

You creak the door open to find Joel and thank him again for hosting you, only to see him waiting right outside in the hall. You nearly jump, your face completely giving away your tense surprise.

“Jus’ wanted to make sure you got to bed alright,” he says gently, explaining himself. 

“Oh…” You bite your lip. “I, uh, I think I’m all set. Thank you again, Joel, really, for everything.”

His smile brightens as much as you’ve seen it and his eyes look much kinder as he nods, a dip of his head. His hand reaches forward and takes yours through the frame of the door and squeezes it. You freeze at the sudden touch, his hand so warm and rough, calloused fingertips grazing over the softer skin of your hands. It sends your entire body into a fuzzy flash of heat for just a moment before it dissipates. He squeezes once more, thumb swiping gently over the back of your hand before he releases it. Your lips sit parted in shock, eyes a little wider and hand starting to tremble a little. 

“Anytime,” Joel replies simply, his face falling before he turns to walk away, leaving you standing breathless for several moments before clicking the bedroom door shut behind you. 

You jolt out of your sleep, a gasp of breath catching in your throat and dying out as you go to yell, finding your mouth tightly clasped by a large, warm palm pressing in.

“Shh, shh,” the voice comes, right near your right ear. You shudder involuntarily from the hot breath fanning on such a sensitive spot  and try to yell again, letting it die out as a whimper against the skin pressing on your mouth.

“Shh, it’s alright. I got you,” Joel coos, his voice coming out hoarse. “No yellin’.”

You squirm helplessly against his hold, realizing another arm is draped across your abdomen, holding you in place. Your body exhausts quickly, still half asleep as you feel your struggle die out. Joel’s hand across your mouth loosens slowly, relieving the pressure.

“You were havin’ a nightmare, darlin’. Shh… c’mon now…” His hand that had been against your lips ghosts up to your head, landing in gentle strokes against your hair. You blink a few times, heavy breaths through your nostrils now as you try to steady your mind and body. Your chest struggles against his heavy arm as it heaves, your body fully taut and mind trying to play catch up.

“W-what…” you murmur groggily, laying stiffly as Joel holds your waist, fingers brushing against your curves, pressing you close as his other hand still works tender strokes along your hair.

“Oh, sweetheart, glad I heard you, hm?” he practically whispers, his face nuzzling close to the skin right under your ear. You feel the tickle of his breath and facial fair, prickly and rough against such delicate skin. You squirm gently, trying to signal that everything is too tight, too much, too… confusing. Joel is lost in his own world, absorbed in the softness of the places he begins to touch, hand grazing from your waist to your bare arms, fingertips exploring hungrily under the guise of being caring. 

All he’d needed, alone and laying awake tonight, his body burning and resolve thin, was a simple touch. A chance to show you all that you needed, all he could provide for you. Only to help you, to take care of someone who couldn’t care for herself. You’d proved that much to him - you needed his guidance, his protection, his experience.

“What’re you…”

“Jus’ comforting you, darlin’. C’mon now,” he whispers, never once pulling back or stopping the exploring he’s doing with his hands. 

He runs through his list of reasons to convince himself why everything he’s doing is perfectly necessary before losing sight of all of it entirely when he strikes that sliver of bare skin where your tee shirt has hiked up a bit off your waist, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. His hand travels a bit higher, pushing the shirt up and grazing famished fingers across your ribcage and stomach. A small groan ripples across his chest, the vibration felt by where your body meets his. He surprises you next by tugging your shirt back down, covering the bare skin before returning his hand to your hip, pulling you closer. He’s a wall of pure mass, muscle underneath his soft belly and chest, a man who’s strong but still showing a bit of his age. You nearly whimper and shake, feeling a sickly heat coursing through your veins now.

“Mmm…” he mumbles in your ear, your own voice caught in a trap of fear lodged right in your throat. Equally afraid of the way you don’t know how this night is about to end and that you’re not sure you mind where it’s going. You’ve never understood men or their intentions, and never had anyone bother to teach you, no worked up teenage boys offer to show you when you were at that age. No, you were left to guess, giggled at by other girls when you couldn’t pick up on their meanings as they discussed their own secret rendezvous. This had to be everything they talked about, didn’t it? The way you could feel heat and energy practically pulsating off of Joel’s body, his noises anything but natural sounding as he hummed little groans in your ear.

“Y��just needed someone, sweetheart. Y’need someone to take care of you, don’t you?” he finally says, fingers still running their way across your hair, nails scratching against your scalp. You whimper quietly at the feel of it, how damn good it all feels. You don’t move, don’t speak as he goes on.

“Need a man like me, darlin’, y’do. I can see it - need me to take care of everything…” He mumbles similar sentiments repeatedly in your ear before bringing his lips right to your neck, just letting them graze, the wet but chapped skin of his lips pressing in gently on your pulse point. You try not to gasp, the feeling as pleasing as it is terrifying, finding yourself gripping the sheet tighter to try not to give yourself away, give him any kind of response. 

“Don’t you, honey? Need me to take care of you?” He sounds a little more desperate now, needy for the answer he’s searching for from you.

He’s broken you down to the point you feel tears stinging at your eyes, the long awaited emotional release you’ve needed sitting right there on the precipice, a small crack waiting to fully rupture. You can’t be sure if you nod, just imperceptibly, you think, but Joel’s body language relaxes against you as he leans his entire chest and torso into you even more, giving you a squeeze. You know then that he got his answer, just what he was looking for. You let the tears slip out, rolling down your cheeks, onto the pillow on one side, likely falling right onto Joel’s face or in his hair on the other. He seems to barely notice, just swiping them quickly off your cheeks before resuming his position wrapping himself tightly around you.

“Good, sweetheart… good girl, I got you…” 

You hear his breathing start to even out shortly after, steady rise and fall of his chest against your body, and you realize he’s dozed off. Like he got what he wanted and decided he could rest now. Your entire body relaxes, a careful breath whooshing out that you hadn’t even been aware you were holding in. His hand is still tangled in your hair, other one possessively on your hip, giving you absolutely no room to move. You’re not sure you want to anymore, anyways, never having had such strength covering you, cloaking you from all of the dark, sinister things that the nighttime holds for you.

If you’re going insane, feeling safe with this man who forced his way around your body tonight, then so be it. Why shouldn’t you let yourself feel safe for once? Let yourself feel less of that burden, turn it over to Joel? Your own turning wheel of thoughts starts to scare you, the little voice in the back of your head telling you what you already know and have been trying to ignore. The one little thing that you immediately put your finger on but were too scared afterwards to lift it back up and observe it closer.

You weren’t having a nightmare, no, not at all. You knew when you woke from one, as sure as the god damned sky was blue and the grass was green. It wasn’t a foreign concept to you by any means after what you’d been through in your life. And tonight… tonight hadn’t been one of those nights. 

dividers by @/saradika!

thank you @jupiter-soups and @huffle-punk for always beta-ing my shit and talking inspo with me. love you to the moon and back <3

[euniveve]

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲, 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤" - zhongli

pairings: zhongli x gn!reader tags: HURT/COMFORT (like major major comfort), glasses wearing!reader, insecure!reader, reader has self-worth issues, fluffy fluff fluff, reader is implied to have depression w.c: 1480 a.n: ngl i wrote this one shot a while ago, it helped me back then, hopefully it'll help some of you guys as well, i think this is beta read (again i wrote this a while back, i forgot) remember that you are loved my dears <3

Another tear hits the cold hardwood floor of your apartment; your glasses have long been housing the pools of your sadness before you finally take them off to bury your face into your knees, choked sobs wrangle out of your throat as your chest burns from the hurt.

What was it again that triggered this? You couldn’t remember… Crying sure does affect you; it drives your mind deeper into its sadness, an inescapable hole of helplessness with darkness surrounding you, not an oil lamp in sight.

A series of knocks fell upon your door– making you jolt in your uncomfortable position, your heart beating out of your chest as you feel the pit in your stomach grow. You don’t want to meet people now, you don’t want to pretend to be fine.

For once, saving face stood second before your needs.

“Qin ai de?” the familiar warm baritone from the other side of the door said, “It’s me, are you alright?”

You open your lips, tears still freely flowing down your cheeks but you stop yourself– deciding to close them again. Maybe anyone is fine, anyone else. But not Zhongli. You cleared your mucus-filled throat, trying to force a clear stable voice, gulping your saliva thickly before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in preparation.

With a shaky breath out you fake a smile, trying your best to sound how you normally do. “Y-yeah! I just wanna be in silence and think; don’t worry about me!”

A few seconds of silence pass by and you hold your breath, waiting for the sound of his feet walking away to grace your ears but you hear none. Instead, what little light the gaps at the bottom of the door provided was blocked before Zhongli spoke again.

“Forgive me, my dear, for I have to do this.”

You couldn’t even take a second to process the words he uttered before the door flew open, revealing the silhouette of your very handsome, very tall former-archon-boyfriend. Almost out of instinct– you cover your face, your trembling hand making out a very poor mask as you try your best to get away from his sight.

“Love, my dear heart,” he cooed, his footsteps dawning closer and closer before it stopped in front of you. The melodious rustle of his fabric as he bends down to meet your face, his amber eyes unmistakable in their sadness as his brows furrow in slight frustration at the sight of your visibly distraught figure. 

Zhongli reaches out; out of instinct, it seems, to comfort you, to hold you at least, his long slender finger wanting to touch your hand to move them yet you flinch when his hand hovers; afraid and unsure.

“My love?”

“Pl-please go away..” you whisper meekly, “I- I don’t want to– I don’t want you to see me like this…”

“,,,”

You quickly and harshly wipe the tears off your face, trying your best to give him a smile while your hand is still covering your puffy eyes. “I’m okay! I think…”

“But you are not,” he said matter-of-factly, his brow furrowed in confusion before his hand finally reached yours, warmth blooming on your skin with his comforting touch. “You are not okay.”

“I will be,” you muttered, “Please? I’m a mess now– I–”

Your hand was moved away, and even with your lids covering your eyes, you can imagine those brilliant eyes; so full of warmth and love you almost want to run away and hide again.

“My love please look at me.”

His voice is but a whisper and there’s care lacing between those strings of sound. Archons do you even deserve this? You are certain that you don’t but it feels so right. 

It feels like you aren’t worthless.

It feels like you matter.

You finally open your eyes, and another waterfall of tears threatens to escape but you can see his gentle smile, the softness of his lips, the curvature of his cheeks; whatever is happening now, it feels like love.

Are you worthy of love?

“You are scared,” you hear him say softly, “you are scared and that is okay, I’m here for you.”

“I’m sorry,” you find yourself whispering.

“What for?”

‘Everything.’ you wanted to say, ‘for being me, for stealing you away from someone better, for being selfish.’

Ah– there it is.

“For being selfish,” you repeat your mind, your eyes shifting to the wooden floor, his gaze tho comforting, feels so real. Like he could see through your walls; like he could tear them down with the slightest of touch. “For being selfish enough to get your love, to be so imperfect yet accepting of it– I’m so sorry.”

You wince at yourself. That sounds more pathetic than you intended. Gods; why does it have to be him? You wouldn’t mind if it's anyone else. Anyone else can call you self-absorbed or pitiable or even entitled. 

But please, archons please, let it not be him. 

“I’m not worthy of it,” you end your sentence with a defeated whisper, “I know I'm not worthy of it; I keep pushing you away, I’m difficult, I’m a horrible person.”

You bit your lip, you can hear him breathing steadily, his hand still grasping yours with that signature comfort, that loving warmth. It feels so good that you want to run away; so good that it feels like knives as the back of your mind keeps shouting at your words. 

Ugly, untrue, you know this, but when those words are repeated thousands – no – millions of times it starts to sound honestly beneath useless praises.

“I’m irreparably broken.”

Silence is between the two of you and it feels deafening. You are ready for this, for him to leave, and how could you not? You have to imagine it time and time again, with every step apart from him, every second without his presence, you imagine it over and over and over again; hoping, praying, that when it eventually happens, it would hurt even less. 

Because you are ready.

“I used to forge weapons as an archon,” Zhongli whispered, his thumb starting to trace the back of your hand. Slowly but surely, you feel his body getting closer to you, that golden touch of his cupping your cheek, those citrine gazes that inspect your very being and you can’t help but lean into his touch.

Archons, you are horrible.

“I forge new weapons for my adepti. Ones made of jade, of black steel, of unbreakable stone, cor lapises, agates, and carnelians.” he took a deep breath, the chilly autumn air filling his lungs before he continued. “But I always prefer to reforge my old weapons.”

“Huh?”

He laughs, that signature rumbling laughter that makes you shiver, that fills you with ease and serenity; it has you longing for a home only he can make, only he can fulfil. “Yes, I prefer my old weapons; one that has my hand moulded on its handle, one that has been broken time and time again.” 

You feel his fingers on your cheek, your cold, tearstained cheek– you want to flinch away but you can’t. Zhongli is your home, you couldn’t hide away any longer.

“So my love, if you are broken then allow me to reforge you.” His voice, archons, his voice resonates deep within your heart, filling its cracks and smoothing its surface. His and completely his, he once noted and each and every time he breathes he reminds you of it. “if you prefer for your pieces to bask in the sun then allow me to carry you, every chuck and dust.”

“I’ll cut you,” you whisper, trying desperately to deny him of the pain you know you would bring. “I'll hurt you; I have jagged edges and–”

“Then do it.”

His arm wraps around you, his hand tugging your head underneath his chin. He places a kiss on the top of your head, feeling the way your body fits with his; longing for the sound of your laughter and accompanying smile.

But Morax knows better; perhaps that person is gone, perhaps they are buried underneath the rubble. And yet he smiled to himself, gripping you tighter, not letting you go. He is pained, it is true. But a god can afford pain. 

Let him afford the pain, as long as you wouldn’t have to feel it.

“I’ll hold you until you feel full, I’ll love you until the last stone crumbles, I’ll be by your side until your soul turns to dust.”

He let go of a breath. It sounds heavy; and perhaps for Morax, it is. His lover it seems has been at war. What sort of warrior god lets their spouse fight a battle all alone?

“I love you,” he whispered, “and that’s nothing your thoughts can change no matter how hard they try.”

[vagabond-umlaut]

gojo satoru x reader fic recs (I)

‣ now that i've got loads of free time, thought why shouldn't i use it well by showing (few of) my fave authors their much well-deserved love, respect and attention? ^_^

‣ this is merely a list of works i've enjoyed reading. kindly heed the tags and warnings in each of them and consume content responsibly, at your own discretion. that being said, i own neither these fics nor the characters nor the above gif. enjoy reading! 🥰

⌀ all that is solid [series] by GrilledTandooriSmoke on ao3

one of the best series there is. period. the fluff, the angst, the drama, the humor, the romance, the friendship, the plot, the dialogues - everything is top-notch in this series, i'm telling you. bonus points for being narrated in both reader's and gojo's pov.

⌀ The King is But a Man [series] by Petrichorium on ao3 (@petrichorium on tumblr)

royal!gojo who's terribly in love with the reader x reader who's equally (but way more discreetly) in love with gojo. add to that, the trope of childhood sweethearts reunited as adults, excellent communication between the couple and a wonderfully-crafted world and dialogues - what more could you ask from a series?

⌀ Ten to None (Soulmate AU) (oneshot) by Oreosmama on ao3

a fic which i adore with every fibre of my being. i will not say anything more about this, except to request you to go read this. you'll love it. (especially the fantabulous ending. btw, did i already say how much i'm in love with how well-written this fic is?)

⌀ Scarred [oneshot] by cainis on ao3

one of the best angst-with-a-happy-ending fic there is. i wish i could give thousands of kudos for the heart-wrenchingly amazing way the author has portrayed gojo's character here.

⌀ Mother of otherness, Eat me [oneshot] by itsbaby on ao3

one of the most beautiful works i've read so far. told from yuuji's pov, it explores gojo and reader's relationship and its nuances in a way seldom done before. however, what stole the show for me, was the soft and sweet mother-son duo the reader and yuuji grow to be in this fic. i really love this one-of-a-kind masterpiece.

⌀ something sweet [oneshot] by heresan on ao3 (@pretty-toru on tumblr)

i love love love this fic. it's so fluffy, so funny, so cute, so heart-warming... just read this fic, people. you won't ever be disappointed by the dynamics reader and gojo have in this one. one of my all-time faves, tbh.

⌀ teen dad Gojo [series] by pantao on ao3 (@seravphs on tumblr)

a sweet and realistic depiction of reader and gojo being teenaged parents to young megumi, all the while they try to figure out their feelings for each other. a perfect mixture of fluff, angst, drama, slice-of-life and romance, imo. (also, the author's notes are pure gold. whatever you do, please don't miss reading them! :D)

⌀ To see those eyes I prize above mine own (twoshot) by koyama on ao3

if you wish to watch godlike!gojo willing to let go of his powers, out of guilt and immense, immense, protective love for the reader, this is the ideal fic for you. i'm in awe of the way the writer wrote gojo's complex persona and the way the sorcerer realized his feelings for the reader. (the second chapter's the cherry on the cake. it's so good!!!!)

⌀ keeping up with the fushigojos (series) by @augustinewrites on tumblr

fluff? A+; angst? A+; drama? A+; characterization & dialogues? A+; humour? A+++++. a sureshot way to end a long hectic tiring day on a happy note is to read this series. (my go-to comfort series, ngl. :])

⌀ CAT & DOG (oneshot) by @mimiriko on tumblr

an adorable fic of gojo being in love with the reader, who knows, yet doesn't really know, much about it. plus, the feline-like features of gojo are sooo cute... and this fic is sooo sweet... the story left me smiling when i finished reading it.

⌀ surely summer wasn't over yet [3 chapters] by 3rdgymbros on ao3

an amazing fic set against the backdrop of the hidden inventory arc. the portrayal of the characters and their dynamics is simply impeccable. despite my kind-of-dislike towards this particular arc of the manga, i really enjoyed reading this one.

[rueclfer]

smau series ideas!!! or something!!! idk help me finally commit to it

1. camp counselor au

ngl kinda self explanatory lmao touya x y/n are camp counselors at the camp they used to attend as kids. very minimal angst tbh i want this to be v sweet and tender <3 childhood best friends to lovers type shit! heavy pining! lovesick dumbasses!!

2. fleabag inspired au

not rlly fleabag but the essence of it probably! y/n is going through the thick of it and someone recommends the local church's phone subscription to daily advice/bible quotes/confessions -> enji todoroki is the head pastor for this church -> guess who runs the phone subscription? assistant pastor touya!!! i do want this one to be angstier + confront religious beliefs, eternal damnation, the push and pull between love and religion and touya's daddy issues !!! but also keep it silly u know???

3. normal people inspired university band au

ok i'm merging these 2 eep. childhood family friends x unrequited love/one sided pining x falling out to reuniting in university where he's in a band and y/n is a hosts for the college radio <3 maybe some emotional constipation and misunderstandings and yearning. i want this to be kinda lighthearted thooo.... heavy on loser touya!

4. postwar rehab patients au

canon adjacent? ish? dare i say my rendition of a fix-it? kinda? y/n attends the same rehab center as touya -> heavily monitored, heavy mental + physical therapy. y/n is one of the many severely injured survivors that came out of the war, touya is the reason why they're there. inherently going to be angsty (for touya ssooorrryyy) bc its canon adjacent but also would like a tender "they saved each other" type thing IDK call it hurt/comfort or something

[voidcat]

— [ 01:36 ] (but if you’re too drunk to drive, and the music is right…)

characters: narumi gen, you, first division (loosely mentioned)

a/n: mentions of drinking and alcohol. can be read as part of the hedgehog's dilemma series bc ngl i kinda wrote it with that in mind. i hate you mari please let my soul be free and take your rabid little brother away from me. sorry for being such good in-law material ig — 1.5k

inspired by mari's bullying comment: "but have u considered the way he looks at u when he's slightly tipsy?"

The dim lights of the bar fall gently on the eyes- something you're more than grateful for.

It's not often the teams go out together after work; let alone even just one section within a division but you'd like to hope the changes within the first division has become somewhat of a routine by now.

The place is warm enough to be of comfort but cold enough to ensure nobody falls victim to alcohol and the sleep it lulls you into. As hours have passed since your arrival, the lively chatter has spread within the space, several booths occupied, everyone divided into similar groups of those they get along well more, or those they wish to converse with. It is calmer now, with the weight of work place regulations and titles gone, just the comfort of a bunch of people, spending their night, taking some stress out in the form of sweet drinks and sour tastes, vibrant colors and heavenly smelling fries, games played with one too many rules broken and words slurred, bodies slowly losing their functions.

You spot Shinonome easily with your eyes, away by the corner, bent by the pool table and holding the cue stick like she came up with the game herself.

A pity, you think to yourself. She was so excited for tonight, especially picked the night and asked to get ready with you, even asking your opinion on her outfit and what accessories she could tweak and add or not. Instead, now hogged with the rest of them, she's teaching them a lesson they'll never forget, ignoring Tachibana's swaying walks and poor attempts to hold his ground.

Still, you think, despite the errors and trials of the evening, you're content by yourself so far. Your seating is near the bar, lest you wish for another cocktail, the volume of the music just right, a soothing and gentle melody carrying you away, reminding you of old days.

A sudden movement by your side startles you just as you bring the glass to your lips. And you notice much to your dismay that what you've assumed to be a pile of several coats and bags is certainly too human-shaped to be that.

From the slouched-over form, rises Narumi Gen, wobbling and swaying in his spot.

Rolling your eyes and breathing through your nose, you still take your sip, bigger than you were planning, and think to yourself that your proximity to the bartender will surely prove itself to be useful.

"H-hey!" Narumi says with a coarse voice, a hiccup mixed in the small word somewhere, sounds like a sore throat, or just dry.

"Fancy seein' you 'ere." He tries again, words still a struggle for him to get out and you try to recall how many drinks he had to end up such a babbling mess already.

"Congrats on your discovery of shapeshift, captain." you say and turn ahead again, a finger grazing over the rim of your glass.

He doesn't seem to pick up on your words and gives you a confused gaze, head tilted to the side so much, he almost falls, a sudden arm shooting up to the table to balance himself, not noticing your vacant hand moving to his direction in case he fell as well.

You take your arm back before he can notice.

In thought, you grab your glass and down the rest of its content in one go, looking at the bartender to notice and making a gesture his way.

The taste of zesty orange still rich on your tongue, you lick your lips, thinking. For some reason, you always overthink when it comes to him.

You doubt the count is much since he doesn't look all too bad. And you are aware, even when these after-work hangouts were barely a thing, he still rarely went out- and his joining rate to them a zero already. From what you know of him, of his life before, it's unlikely he had experience with alcohol to begin with. When you put two and two together, it doesn't really come as a surprise to see him like this.

One part of you is still unsure if he's coming to these as out of some self crafted necessity- that he should be there as the captain if he's invited, or because he genuinely enjoys the company.

The lack of a portable game console or a phone implies the former, and the thought brings a smile to your lips.

Some rustling and movement from the peripheral of your eye and you can somewhat make out Narumi changing his posture, but heed him no mind.

In the midst of your running thoughts, someone comes to take your empty glass away and bring your order.

Two glasses of sparkly, bright orange, a dark and thin straw inside, and you sigh, Narumi's hands working faster than your own, pulling one before himself.

Happily taking a drag of the drink, only to grimace at the sudden taste of alcohol, he coughs a little and you lightly pat him on the back, "there, there" you offer in half concern, half out of habit.

Yellow lights dancing among the corners of the place, it gives the impression of a space hidden and old- nostalgic, in a way. But then again so does the decor, a get-away of sorts.

Typical stools and cushions one could run into pubs back in the day, the never ending sounds of a faint coffee machine working there, clanks of knives from the kitchen here– a haven that is lived and loved. A chance for normalcy, even just for few hours.

Here, you can pretend everything is the same. In the comfort of old posters and within the reflections dirty, rusty bathroom mirrors; you can pretend you are still just a regular person. No life altering events, no losses.

No grief and no prove of lost love to begin with. Here, now, you can pretend you're still young and have someone waiting for you to return home before the sky darkens. Right now, you can let your eyes roam the sticky floors for a cat that looks well too fed to be a stray, fur soft and glinting, a hint of michief in its eyes.

"So~ come here often?" the slurred voice speaks from your side again, earning a 'pfff' from you at the cheap pick-up line.

When you turn to face him, you don't expect to see Narumi half lying on the table. Head resting snug against his palm, a stupid smile on his face– boyish, is best you can muster to decribe.

Rosy cheeks and half dropped lids, and the smile of a young boy still innocent, lost and ready to take on the world if he must looking at you with glee– like you're the most interesting thing he has seen tonight, or in his entire life- the pub the entire world, and you at its center.

This new change to him catches you off-guard. You were ready for anything. Be it a drunken mess, an overly clingy tipsy mess, a little all over the place yet a ted steady despite sleep pouring out of his eyes like the last time.

Nothing, you think, could've possibly prepared you for pink eyes glowing under the dim lights with specs of gold trapped inside the orbs– a smile so genuine, so vulnerable dancing on his lips and his free hand playing with the hem of your sleeve. Dusty pink cheeks that match his eyes and the expression of a fool you fear you might never see in your life again, Narumi Gen stares into your eyes as if there's nothing else in this room right now.

You can feel your mouth open and close with nothing to come out- muscle memory carrying you until so far.

This is bad, your brain signals you, running at a speed too fast for you to catch on- a loss of words, no idea what to do and dreading the very possibility of just sitting frozen there in silence like a deer in headlights.

Seeing movement on your part however, Narumi tries leaning in closer, moving with his folded arm and head still rested against his palm, almost knocking his- now empty, glass off in the process.

The slight tilt of the glass and its clink against the table brings you back to your senses. Hands shooting up towards his direction- to the glass and nowhere else obviously, or so you try and reason, you stall for a second with your hands still in the air.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you give him a gentle squeeze, gaze softening at his reaction– heat rushing to his face, the smile morphing into a small expression of surprise,

Your voice comes out in a soft whisper he is certain he never heard of before: "Come now big guy, let's get you home." you say it like this has always been an usual occurance– and for a blink of a second, he sees the outlines of a stranger he just met.

[blorbingqls]

peaceful property final thoughts: what is a home?

i remember the first time peaceful property was released as a mock trailer in gmmtv part 1 for 2024, and how excited i was for the series to air. i thought it to be a perfect ghostbusting plot for a show - and taynew have acted in many other non-BL shows that i was not too worried for it to be a BL or not BL. and internally, after seeing that trailer, i had an idea on how the show was gonna be on what it means to have a home, have a family and understand its better meaning.

now that the show has ended, it has come true in its best form. all the spirit stories was so rooted in the little things that most people would want, and each story ngl made me cry. it gave emphasis on family, on building homes, building warmth and building a sense of familiarity with love and care. and how even with care, the financial difficulties of most people get highlighted. it was endearing to me, because it gave me every flavour of drama, angst, hate, anger, horror, fear and love i thought i didnt need but i did. so badly.

i can definitely say the show was a lot on breaking, healing and building new stuff over the old, with the theme remaining constant over all of the episodes. personally, it provided a new meaning to home. we list a lot of thing while we talk about what home means to someone, in poetry, prose, media and daily life. and i believe you cant find one absolute meaning of home. the show said the same thing here as well. however, it add more depth to the things already said. how home lies within the people, not the buildings we create. its the memories that emphasise a home.

and i think here, the best example to explain home was through uncle somkid. the denial of care and affection he felt through years doesnt equate to the comfort he got at last, knowing his father did love him all those years, left him memories and things behind. and for us as the audience, probably, the arc that somkid got may not be correct because one may think the emotional unavailability of gramps and the whole family doesnt give the correct closure that somkid probably needed. but we find out somkid saying that he finally got the closure he needed. and that is something only he could justify, not us.

i learnt a deeper meaning of how home is everything - the chaos, disagreements, fights, denial of love, hate, laughter, envy, jealousy, pride, ego, disappointment, love, care, affection, warmth, being safe and content of being together with people. and feeling that all with people has become so valid. because you go through all those emotions in the course of life with people/buildings/memories you used to call/call/will call home. these feelings dont remain constant but they show up.

the way i interpreted "home" is still vague and may be incorrect, but i have felt this as i keep defining more homes over the course of my life. i have felt these emotions somewhere or the other while being in homes and its now something which makes me feel warm and content. and this show, made me feel it all.

will like to end my string of thoughts with this thought in mind.

[swampstew]

UNI REVERSE I LOVE U

Fic authors self rec! When you receive this, reply with up to five favorite fics you've written (include links, and if you want- a few thoughts about each one), then pass on to at least five other writers if you're up for it. Spread the self-love ✨

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAndie! I can't believe you've done this. Well, I did one version of this where I talked about my pretty much all my fics - however, this will go a little more detailed with other things I've done :)

Captain Kid's Fiery Passion - !Yandere Kid. I really enjoyed exploring a darker, crueler Kid that would take reader with no hesitation. I know I only scratched the surface of 'dark fic' with this one, but part of me is entirely too hung up on Kid being an actual cinnamon roll to his beloved that I can't really imagine him being mean mean. That doesn't mean the inspiration isn't there. I have plenty of questionable scenarios I'd like to write out, and my only fear is accidentally triggering myself XD

Spoiling Killer - this is my guilty pleasure. Subjecting my comfort characters to simple pleasures. I can't help writing rottingly fluffy stuff. It's my nature. And I'll do it again too. I won't stop until every crew member is given the pampering they deserve.

Meet the Kid Pirates series - Heat the HR Director and emotional support human! - We know SO LITTLE about this crew and their roles so I decided to make up roles and titles. IF we ever get canonized information, I will update these. However, this was meant to just be fun head canonning :) I was going to do every crew member but after...THAT...chapter, I was too depressed to continue. Still kinda am. BUT FRET NOT - I DO INTEND TO FINISH THIS! and also do the Straw Hats section. In time in time.

Ok, I know I said I was gonna limit this to the drabbles, BUT I JUST REMEMBERED, I also have a WIP book that's part of the What's the Magic Word? universe. Rowena's Future Vision! This is gonna be composed of just drabbles, thoughts, and ramblings of things I wanna see for my ship. Nothing is canonized until its written in the official book(s). This is my sacred space for adding more to Rowena's lore, her relationships with Kid and the world around them. It can kiiiinda be spoilery if you're not caught up to the main fic. Inspired by @abysscronica 's standalone fic "Emperors (dad!Kid x mom!Reader)" which is SOFCKING GOOD but also gave me the courage to write beyond my main fic and explore other themes and tropes that would not otherwise fit in WTMW? NGL I'm inspired to do a Stampede book too cause my mind literally cannot shutthefuckup about Kid and Rowena and making Kid stressed about showing off that he's a better Captain than Luffy, but I have too much on my plate already. I hope that's not stepping on your toes Abyss!!!!!

Ending on a collaborative note, it was a DELIGHT AND HONOR to host this collection of stories for Halloween 2023 with some of my dear moots. SUPER SECRET HALLOWEEN PROJECT was so much fun from conception to execution. I had so much fun envisioning the theme, and hearing from my friends how much they enjoyed being able to do something low-pressure and just for funsies. Plus being able to include fandom by voting on the best costume was really cool - and I'll take any excuse to commission @yamiyamiart ;) Shoutout to my crew: @quinloki @zoros-sheath @sanjis-all-blue @writing-yarn-goblin @icy-spicy @mewiyev @bulle-d-bulliver @leakyweep

[tiredandwireds-blog]

@jennalistening i got u

Ok here's a list of all the best Dick and Damian(mostly with father/son dynamics) fics imo. Pls dont judge me.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40095006

The Stowaway (5099 words) by LittleLadybugs

Short sweet and fluffy! Damian sneaks a cat into the penthouse and struggles to keep it hidden. At least Dick always has his back!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32923282

Emergency Contact by DawnsEternalLight for grousemouse

Hilarious and cute! Damian gets attacked on a school trip and is just the way youd expect him to be lol. Dick freaks out ofc

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49322866

my shoulders are heavy already by a_alene

Ughhh its sooo goodddd! Damian and Dick sickfic cannot recommend enoughhh plsplspls read ittt

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36304804

a chance to celebrate by emavee

So cuteee! The batfam throws a party to celebrate Dick adopting Damian. Its such a cute story that gives insight into each characters feelings and its also fluffy as hell!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46392967

Father's Day (we were the best) by InkpotSprite

Damian decides to celebrate Dick on Mother's and Father's Day lol cute and absolutely hilarious!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40260231

I'll Carry You by BrickSheep

BrickSheep puts it best with the tag Comfort No Hurt. Its exactly as the title says dick carries damian and i get a rush of dopamine lol

https://archiveofourown.org/series/890946

I Saw Grayson Kissing Santa Claus by pupeez4eva

Damian becomes convinced Santa is after Dick Bruce is confused and Jason is evil. So pretty par for the course lol. Tbh tho this fic had me laughing so hard my sides hurt an absolute beautiful nightmare to read

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51531457

The Ping-Pong Wars by fadesfanfic

Stephanie and Damian bonding! Dick being worried over Damian! And oh the shenanigans! Its beautiful and sweet and funny and iloveitsomuchhh

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28186434

Paint Cans and Sneaking Out by CarrionCarnival

Damian sneaks out to do some graffiti and tries not to get caught lol. Cute and fun. A whole new look for Damian that I loveee

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22544392

The R Stands for – by Cirth

A beautifully written look into Damian's adjustment to his new home. Honestly made me cry ngl but sometimes you need that

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52221118

Obsolete Tools and Tangible Miseries by Corybantic

Ok we def in angst territory now gang! Damian thinks hes nothong but a weapon and Dick helps convince him otherwise. Read at your own risk cause i was sobbinggg

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37052449

the city without stars in its skies by Alienu

Ok i literally just reread this one anddd. Ughhhh im dyingggg. Damian is sent to kill Officer Dick Grayson you see where this is goinggg its so gooddd plsreadplsreadplsread

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40538418

Home Is Where the Heart Is by LittleLadybugs

Ok ill admit this ones more batfam focused then just dick and dami but still. So good. Dick is adopted by Slade not Bruce and goes running to blüdhaven to hide from him. Sadly the Birds wont leave hime alone

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22395412

Not by Blood, Maybe by Heart by Ellegrine

Ok we back to fluff now lol. Damian loves his brothers even if he never says it. In this fic he shows it by protecting Dicks honor lol

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18296282

Still the Best by Cdelphiki

3 great fics all in one spot! Literally some of the best stuff ive ever read! Iloveitiloveitiloveit pls readdd

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10918887

Catch Me (All Records Indicate) by Engineerd

The evolution of the nickname lil D. Cute and so sweet. Short but such a comfort read

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866386

This Too Shall Pass by DarthPeezy

Just oh. just so so goodddd. Another gorgeous look at Damian adjusting to his new life with the batfam tho this one is more plot directed and ohmygosh did that plot have me in a death grip

And finally my top 2 fav fics:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19718083

Throughout Infinity by flumen

Damian is sent to an alternate universe and meets young justice Dick and crew. Ok no summary i can do will do this fic justice just know i read this in one sitting and immediately felt my sense of priorities and my mind shift. No joke this changed me.

https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021464

3:16 by partingxshot

AAAHHHH

Ok now i can talk abt this. Im in the process of rereading this AGAIN bc i literally cannot be left alone. Ok quick summary: each chapter follows Dick and Damian adjusting to their new life as Batman and Robin. I feel like most everyone who is in love with the dynamic between Dick and Damian has read this fic but i cant leave it out bc its literally my fav fic EVER. i will never be normal abt this fic if you havent read it yet plspls do

[jwirecs]

Recommended BTS Fics of January 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my bts recs of january! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Break The Ice ( pt2 ) || @yoonivy​​🔞💕✅💯💯

↳ There are three rules to become an official Puck Bunny: 1. You have to love hockey. No exceptions. 2. You have to had slept with at least three hockey players. Starters, no benchwarmers. 3. And most importantly, have fun! (oh child that ending. oh sweet mother lord.)

Perhaps Love || @mangowillow​💕💔✅

↳ for as long as you can remember, you have been in love with your childhood friend turned roommate, but jeon jungkook remains oblivious even when he comes to comfort and help you sleep every night.

Cupid’s On Holiday || @persphonesorchid​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ You don’t get it, you’re a damn catch. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You’re smart, you’re tidy, hell you’d give up your own kidney to a homeless guy if he needed it that bad. So what the issue? Failed relationships, blind date after blind date, and now your friend’s competitive archery teammate is telling you he’s Cupid here to help you find your one true love. You’re not that desperate. He could take those golden arrows and shove ‘em.

University Superstar ( pt2 ) || @jungkookstatts​🔞💕💔✅

↳ Jeon Jungkook is your University’s biggest rock-star-athlete-hot guy. It literally prides itself on his attendance at the school — walking around with his “big name” (captain of the lacrosse team), tattoos, and rude, jock-like personality. You hate him. You hate that he can’t apologize for being a complete asshole. But what you don’t hate is how he visits your office every day. You also don’t hate that your feelings for him are crawling back into your system… 

Are You Ready, Angel? || @gukkieslover​​🔞💕💔🔄

↳ jus your first time with sweetheart boyfriend koo, some plot there and could maybe be a series if people like it enough?? (link is to their masterlist!)

In Plain Sight || @bangtanstanst​💕✅

↳ A secret relationship isn’t exactly easy to hide, especially not when you work together – and when you make the most of some alone time during a grocery run, you get a little careless. A little too much so, perhaps.

Jealousy || @ryulvrsblog​ 💕✅

↳ Jungkook brings his pretty girlfriend to a meet up with his old college friends who oc has never met before, normally oc would shy away from social interactions like these, but when she sees a girl taking interest in her boyfriend, oc decides to take matters into her own hands. oc gets jealous and kisses jk twice, jk is in shock at his girlfriends bold actions, jk gets a little possesive too

Jealousy 101 || @bluewhale52​​🔞✅

↳ Yoongi posts his Hip Hop 101 video on BangtanTV and shakes his booty for all Army to see. Unfortunately he forgets that ONE person gets dibs on first viewing.

Letting Off Steam || @wnderkoo​ 💕✅

↳ a bad day on track has jungkook storming off and disappearing. where else would one find him but in the comforting arms of his loving girlfriend?

Clingy || @bonny-kookoo​​🔞💔🔄

↳ In which Jungkook is a professional hybrid heat-partner who just wants to do his job (ngl i might have to read this one again because i forgot how it went)

Human || @angelicfangz​​🔞💕💔🔄

↳ humanity is evil it can be something so twisted but it has its honey gems. It has people so sweet that your teeth hurt. You had those people and you messed it up resulting in you losing them but what happens when you find yourself in a hybrid sanctuary by the same people who made you feel what you've always wanted, human.

Wait, Little Rabbit || @bangtanflirt​​ 🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ You, a meek little bunny hybrid, find family amongst six predator hybrids and their lovely human caretaker.

Candy Cane || @oneofthemillionarmy​​💕💔✅💯

↳ SUMMARY LINE: CHRISTMAS PROMPT #19: CHARACTER A DOESN’T FEEL THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT BUT CHARACTER B, WHO LIVES ABOVE THEM, KEEPS PLAYING CHRISTMAS CAROLS REALLY LOUD.

Entombed || @97erstan​​​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ (no summary but fighter!jk + drama???? yes pls)

Hooking || @mapofthesea​​​ 🔞💕💔✅💯💯

↳ The home opener of hockey season is crazy for everyone, but when star defensemen Kim Taehyung takes a specific interest in you, who are you to turn him down?

How Many Things || @myg-butterfly​​​​💕💔✅

↳ Yoongi invites you out to a party with him, and in trust, you say yes. But what happens when you lose him in the crowd, just to find him again with someone else by his side? In the midst of panic and longing, you wonder how many things he thinks about before he gets to you.

Motor Head || @jeonjcngkook​​ 🔞💔✅

↳ jungkook doesn’t like seeing someone else have your attention, so he decides he’s gonna do something about it.

Much Better || @yoonivy​​🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ On a night out with your girlfriends to let loose and forget about your ex, you meet a man that you are instantly attracted to, like magnets on the dance floor. But he reminds you way too much of the one that broke you heart… Can Kim Taehyung prove to you that he is not like your ex at all?

Pink Sapphire || @jiminrings​​​💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ having jungkook for a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he’s easy to love. your relationship’s perhaps become so easy that jungkook doesn’t think sometimes — and that’s what makes it the easiest for you to hate him. alternatively, you and jungkook married each other for business, but the both of you stay for love.

Placebo || @bangtangalicious​​​​ 🔞💕💔🔄

↳ a scientific compatibility test matches you with your soulmate, except he's everything you hate and you're everything he stands against.

Camboy!Tae Mini Series || @hisunshiine​​ 🔞💕💔✅

↳ Give me all of your love, gimme something to dream about. KTH is your favorite camboy, and as a loyal subscriber, you are chosen to test out some new features on the platform he uses to go live. He’s really good at selling his viewers a dream, and as a thanks to a new milemark he’s hit on the platform, he’s choosing one winner to get their fantasy scene. (summary is of the first part! and i fully enjoyed reading this)

I See You || @i-am-baechu​​🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ The L/N family has always been different from other families. For starters, they see ghosts. Y/N hated this gift but as she grew older, she became used to it. Through her college years, she hasn’t seen that many ghosts but that was because they all left alone after her breakdown towards an upcoming test. When one of her classmates has a ghost attached to him, she realizes she needs to get rid of the ghost because it was starting to annoy her with the constant talking and poking her head. How come she never noticed his smile or his bright brown eyes before?

Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

[anyon-else]

Bite the Hand That Feeds Me (Bite the Hand That Needs Me) (The Red Room pt.15) | You and Kakashi are confronted with familiar demons. (Marvel AU) – spotify playlist | read on ao3

Pairings | Kakashi Hatake x Black Widow!Reader + Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha, Naturo Uzumaki, Ino Yamanaka, Danzo Shimura, Asuma Sarutobi, Kurenai Yūhi, Genma Shiranui, Orochimaru, and one (1) mysterious man

Warnings | ANGST, hurt/comfort, this one's pretty heavy ngl, gun violence, blood, torture (kind of? like a little but not really), dissociation, suicidal ideation (I PROMISE IT'S NOT AS BAD AS IT SOUNDS)

Word count | 10k (yeesh)

(previous chapter) | (next chapter) | (series masterlist)

"I am a dead woman, and I don't care."

Katherine Mansfield, from Journal of Katherine Mansfield

Kakashi came to in a room that he had only been in once before.

It had been decades since he'd last seen these concrete walls. The two-way mirror in front of him was an unwelcome sight that left him with nothing to do but watch his reflection watch him back. He wondered who was doing the same on the other side.

Handcuffs kept him locked to the table, though he took note of the lack of restraints on his ankles. Standard procedure aside, most of the suspects who ended up in this room were violent enough that extra precautions were oftentimes necessary.

Not that he planned to follow their example.

They could have left him anywhere else. Any other room would've been better than this—hell, he would've taken a doghouse if it had been an option.

The last time he was here, he was being questioned for murder.

He looked up at the creak of the metal door—the decades-old hinges still sounded the same as they had when he was twelve, and it was as unwelcome as it was familiar.

His hope for any semblance of understanding from his interrogator was lost when Danzo Shimura stepped through the door. With his lips turned down in an irritated frown, Danzo looked like his usual, unenthused self. He and Kakashi watched one another for a very long moment, trapped in a silent stalemate that felt uncomfortably familiar.

What wasn't familiar was the air of dangerous satisfaction Kakashi could sense from the older man.

Danzo took a seat in the chair opposite to Kakashi's, blocking his view of his reflection. With little decorum and far more force than was necessary, he tossed something noisily onto the table between them. It slid across the hard metal and came to a stop in front of Kakashi.

Kakashi instinctively reached towards it the moment it came within arms reach. His handcuffs jerked noisily, and he scowled at them, then at the satisfied look on Danzo's face.

"I take it you know who this is," Danzo said, pointing towards where you stood in the framed picture. It was the one of you and Sakura that he kept in his room, and its only purpose had been to bring him some semblance of comfort in your absence. Kakashi closed his eyes, trying not to linger on his stupidity for having something so damning out in the open.

Still, he never thought that SHIELD would go so far as to kidnap him and his...

"Where," he began darkly, noting the slight downward twitch of Danzo's smirk when he heard the dangerous note in Kakashi's tone, "are my students?"

"Things will go a lot smoother if you just answer my questions."

Sasuke was angry. No, he was livid.

He had never really put much faith in SHIELD as an organization. After HYDRA had been exposed from within their ranks, the small seed of trust that he'd tried to cultivate in his early days as a trainee was ripped from the ground. He only trusted Kakashi-Sensei because he could tell that his mentor wasn't just another one of SHIELD's loyal dogs. He was his own man with his own sense of purpose and justice.

He had always held that same respect for Asuma, but now he was beginning to rethink his initial assessment

"Sasuke," Asuma sighed above him, "I know you're confused, but–"

"Confused?" Sasuke spit back incredulously, finally looking up and meeting Asuma's eyes. The man was thin-lipped, waiting expectantly for Sasuke's words.

If Sasuke had any say in the matter, Asuma would never get the answers he wanted.

"I'm not talking to anyone except Kakashi-Sensei," he finally grumbled, turning his head from Asuma with a finality that made the agent sigh.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Asuma shook his head, slumping into a chair near the door and running a hand over his face, "look, I'm not your enemy, Sasuke. I just want to understand what's going on."

More silence.

"You asked Shikamaru for help with something," he pushed, pulling a small grimace from Sasuke, "and if it had something to do with the HYDRA agent–"

"Don't call her that," Sasuke snapped.

"What should I call her, then?"

Sasuke sneered in lieu of an answer. Asuma sighed again.

The conversation was interrupted by a groan on Sasuke's left. Both glanced towards where Naruto was lying on his side, the last of the three to regain consciousness. He shifted away from the lights, lifting an arm to shield his eyes from the harsh fluorescents.

"Sasuke?" he grumbled, peeking over his arm at his friend. Sasuke glared at him, an unspoken order of silence. "Where are we?"

"SHIELD headquarters," a third voice snapped from the corner of the room. Asuma glanced at Sakura warily, "we were kidnapped by our own people."

Sasuke couldn't help but be unsettled by the rage in Sakura's voice. It reminded him how cruel HYDRA had been to her. It had shaped her into a person that, at times, felt completely foreign to him. When she was consumed by this kind of anger, she felt unreachable. Untouchable. Like anything she came into contact with would burn to ash.

It was as if the room itself held its breath when she spoke. Sasuke saw the way Asuma halted at her biting words, and he wondered fleetingly if his suspicion of HYDRA extended to Sakura. After all, she was no longer the girl he had helped train in her adolescence. Now she had the training of HYDRA's most lethal weapons.

"Sakura–"

"How did you find out?"

Sakura turned, looking at Asuma over her shoulder with a gaze that almost made Sasuke shiver. He swallowed against his drying throat.

"I can't tell you that," Asuma sighed, looking genuinely apologetic for the situation he was putting the three in. Naruto narrowed his eyes, putting the pieces of the situation together and giving Sakura a hopeless glance. Sasuke saw his desire to go to her and offer some form of comfort, but stopped him with a firm shake of his head. Sakura had turned back towards the wall, completely closed off from even Sasuke and Naruto. They couldn't see her expression, but they saw the slight tremble in her shoulders.

"Is Shikamaru alright?" Naruto asked after a pause.

"He's fine."

"What about Kakashi-Sensei?"

"He's being questioned," Asuma said, trying to keep any emotions from bleeding into the words.

Sasuke knew that this couldn't have been easy for Asuma—despite the orders he'd been given, and despite Sasuke's own anger, it was clear that Asuma believed in Kakashi's loyalty.

But he did not have the power to decide what happened to you or Kakashi. That was up to the Director.

Although, in the Director's temporary absence, he supposed those decisions would fall to Danzo. The thought concerned him as much as it infuriated him.

"Can we at least talk to him?"

"Not yet," Asuma sighed, "we need to get a grasp on the situation. And things would go a lot smoother if the parties involved were a bit more cooperative."

He looked at Sasuke pointedly, knowing that any glances in Sakura's directional would go unobserved. The boy scoffed, arms crossed almost petulantly over his chest as he turned his head away from Asuma's gaze. Naruto looked between his two friends, then at Asuma.

"Naruto," Asuma softened his tone, kneeling in front of the boy with only a hint of guilt in his expression for exploiting Naruto's mixed emotions. Clearly the weakest emotional link of the trio, he was the most likely source of any useful information, "this is a complicated situation, but the last thing I want is for anyone to get hurt. Things would go a lot smoother if you tell me what's going on. Maybe then I can help Kakashi."

Naruto looked skeptical. He glanced at Sakura, who still had her head turned away from them, then at Sasuke, who glared at him. Their determined silence sent a clear message, but Sasuke knew that Asuma saw how uneasy Naruto felt at the idea of leaving Kakashi to his own defenses.

"You have to try to save her, too," Naruto said after a long silence.

"Naruto," Sakura hissed, turning towards him incredulously at the same time that Sasuke slapped a hand over Naruto's mouth. He shook it away and glared at Sasuke, who met his gaze with the same determined ferocity.

"This might be our best option," Naruto hissed, "Kakashi-Sensei trusts him. We've known him our whole lives–"

"It doesn't matter," Sakura snapped from her place in the corner of the room, "once you've been stained by HYDRA's name, there's no undoing it. That's all you are, and nothing can change the way they look at you. It doesn't matter how you got in or why you stayed—it just matters that you did their dirty work."

"Sakura, that's not fair..." Asuma started, but the furious glare she shot in his direction silenced him.

"Fair?" she laughed. Suddenly, it was like Sasuke got a glimpse into the person who had spent four years in HYDRA's clutches, surviving off of nothing but rage and a fierce determination to survive. "No, you're right. There's nothing fair about this. She and I were in that hell together. We both killed for them. We escaped together. You're so worried about her, but there's another person just like her standing right in front of you!"

Silence followed the outburst. Asuma held Sakura's gaze, unwilling—or maybe unable—to look away.

"She was born there," Asuma said slowly, looking guilty even before the words began leaving his lips. Sasuke tensed in anticipation of his next words, glancing cautiously in Sakura's direction. Her calm expression was masking the rage that was clear in her tense form. Her fingers twitched as if they itched to wrap around Asuma's throat. Despite his own anger, he leaned forward in the event that he'd have to put himself in between the two. Asuma was strong, but Sakura was an unstoppable force now that she had the training to give weight to her rage.

"I'm not blaming her for what she's gone through," he continued cautiously. Sasuke knew he noticed the way Sakura's calm facade was beginning to split into a boundless anger he had only seen a handful of times. He wanted to beg Asuma to shut his mouth, but a part of him wanted to let Sakura do as she pleased.

Maybe she could get them out of this room. Maybe they'd find you before you were taken somewhere they could not follow.

They needed to get you back.

"But she has been a HYDRA agent her whole life," Asuma continued, pulling Sasuke from his thoughts, "she is unpredictable. And if she hurts someone, then she becomes a liability."

Sasuke glanced at Naruto, thinking back to your return. Had anyone at SHIELD known how close you'd been to shooting Naruto, no explanation of mind-control or Orochimaru's cruelty would have convinced them that you were not the enemy.

"You know nothing," Sasuke finally muttered, both to tell Asuma what they were all thinking and to stop Sakura from saying something that would only make their situation worse. "And locking her away like she's a common prisoner is nothing short of cruel–"

The door clicked open, cutting Sasuke off before he himself could lose control of his spiraling emotions. Asuma stood from where he was blocking the entrance and pulled his chair from the door's path.

"Director," Asuma gaped, "we didn't expect you back until tomorrow."

"I heard that Kakashi and his students had been brought in as suspects."

Her voice floated into the room like a clear, refreshing spring. Then she entered, looking like an angel descending to save them. Surely she would have enough common sense to fix this without letting anyone—namely you and Ino—get hurt.

"Yes ma'am. Agent Hatake is being questioned."

The Director sighed as Asuma stepped away from the entrance.

Director Tsunade Senju was Sakura's hero. Alongside Kakashi, she'd helped shape Sakura into the person she was today. Before she was taken, Tsunade regularly coached her in field medicine, requesting her help on small missions to give her as much experience as possible.

She was kind. Sasuke knew that, despite her cold exterior, she'd understand that you were a victim of Orochimaru's cruelty as much as Sakura had been.

She fixed them with a long look, both to ease their worries and warn them to stay put.

I'll fix this, it seemed to say, just be patient.

Patience was not in abundance between the three of them, but after one last longing look in Tsunade's direction, Sakura sat in between Sasuke and Naruto, and they waited.

"If you don't talk, you won't get to see your students."

Kakashi thought his jaw was going to break. He'd been clenching his teeth together for the entirety of this interrogation, and he could feel his cheeks starting to ache from the tension. Having a conversation like this would've been infuriating with anyone, but he was quickly losing patience with Danzo's condescension.

Perhaps to the detriment of any argument he could hope to make to the Director once she returned, he stayed silent.

"Hatake," Danzo sighed, tapping his fingers against the glass picture frame between them. Kakashi glared at the smudges he was leaving in lieu of looking at the infuriating expression on his face, "this isn't going to just go away like Rin did."

Danzo went quiet as the words sunk under Kakashi's skin. He felt cold—like he'd been dunked into a pool of ice water. The room suddenly felt suffocating. Danzo knew what this room meant to him. He had probably demanded that it be used for this interrogation.

"Don't talk about Rin," he said lowly, feeling the full weight of Danzo's words as the man sneered.

"You have no right to speak disrespectfully to me. You're lucky you're here and not a cell. If it were up to me, I would've–"

The grating creak of the door interrupted Danzo's threat, and both he and Kakashi paused as Genma stepped into the room. He looked bored—like this was just another interrogation—but when he met Kakashi's eyes, Kakashi saw the suspicion that he was trying to mask.

"Agent Shimura," Genma droned, "you're needed outside."

Jaw tense, Danzo hesitated for a split second before rising to his feet.

Kakashi tried to be subtle as he tested the reach of his cuffs, but they caught just shy of the edge of the frame. He sat in dejected silence as the door creaked shut.

While being in this room with Danzo was more than unpleasant, being in it alone was somehow worse. It reminded him too much of a time he thought he'd put behind him, but being back here made him feel like a child again. When he looked back at his reflection in front of him again, it was as if his face had become younger. Those youthful features were twisted with grief and anxiety. He had just been a child back then, unable to face the reality of his actions.

But he refused to let Danzo use his failure to save Rin against him. Not when all he wanted was to keep you away from HYDRA. Despite his initially selfish intention to just save Sakura and let you go, he knew that he had done the right thing in offering you a place with him and his students.

Convincing SHIELD of that was going to be more difficult.

The door didn't move again until what must've been at least an hour, and the creak of the hinges was sounding more and more like nails on a chalkboard each time it opened. He glanced towards the silhouetted figure standing in the entryway and felt relief for the first time since he regained consciousness.

Tsunade was standing in the doorway like an angel come to save him. Even the light that surrounded her shone like a glowing halo. Kakashi felt his unease begin to melt away, replaced by utter exhaustion.

Tsunade stepped further into the room, and the door shut firmly behind her. He could almost feel Danzo's eyes on him on the other side of the glass.

"I'm taking over your interrogation," she began, sliding into Danzo's chair and pushing the frame to the edge of the table with barely a glance in its direction, "Danzo has an uncharacteristically colorful vocabulary when it comes to you."

Kakashi stayed silent, treading these waters very carefully. When he was a child, he'd been volatile and reactive. It had been easy to rile him up and get him to let information slip in his anger.

It was a pattern of behavior that he had long since grown out of and had no plans of repeating.

"Well, I'm sure you've been given very little information, so I'll make this easier for you," Tsunade began, folding her hands over a stack of papers that Kakashi assumed contained Danzo's case against him. It was thicker than he would've liked, "Danzo received a tip that you were harboring two HYDRA agents and decided to release a toxin in the compound rather than risk a confrontation with potentially hostile targets."

Kakashi blinked. He wondered if Tsunade also saw the absurdity in Danzo's tactics, but her expression told him nothing. She was as stone-faced as ever, and Kakashi began to fear that he'd lost her trust in all of this too.

"The HYDRA agents," he began, "are from the Red Room."

Tsunade froze. The words were as familiar to her as they had become to Kakashi—everyone in SHIELD knew who had taken Sakura. The problem with finding her hadn't been their identity, but their location. Orochimaru's strength was in his ability to hide the Red Room from SHIELD's watchful eye. It's main base changed locations frequently enough that finding Sakura had taken years.

"They're not with HYDRA anymore," he told her carefully, lowering his voice and leaning in close enough that his words wouldn't be overheard by anyone on the other side of the glass, "they both knew Sakura while she was there. They protected her from Orochimaru. I...I don't know if she'd even be alive if it hadn't been for them."

Tsunade considered this, albeit briefly. Kakashi knew how complex the situation was—realistically, Tsunade couldn't let any personal feelings interfere in her decisions. Despite Danzo's less-than-ideal method of bringing you in, he was technically within the bounds of SHIELD's protocol.

Kakashi was the one who had complicated things. He could see that Tsunade was not just angry with him, but hurt by his lack of trust in her.

"I would've told you when I brought her in," Kakashi said lowly, "but she was an important part of making sure Sakura was safe. I couldn't risk her being taken. She was too valuable to let go."

"Sakura has been cleared for nearly a year now," Tsunade snapped, though she kept her voice at his volume. Her eyes were knowing, and he wondered just how desperate he looked to her, "you should've told me."

You would've taken her, Kakashi wanted to say, and I couldn't risk that.

"Have you seen her?" Kakashi asked instead. He knew where his priorities should've been—Tsunade was expecting answers, but he had to know where you were. Once he knew you were safe, he would give her everything she needed to know. Everything that would convince her that you weren't a threat.

Tsunade blinked at him. His stomach knotted.

"She's not here, Kakashi."

Your instincts as were sharp as knives.

They'd had no choice but to become so. Anyone who got too close didn't walk away unnoticed or unscathed. It was one of the fundamental teachings from the Red Room: surveillance of one's surroundings is crucial for survival. If you cannot identify a threat that is out of sight, your skill level will not make a difference.

So, even half-conscious and unable to open your eyes, the first thought that came clearly through your muddy thoughts was that you were not alone.

There were two other people in the room—one to your left, and one in front of you. They were veiled by shadows and obscured from your vision, but you felt their stares like guns pointed at your head. You choked on the breath that you greedily sucked into your lungs, then exhaled with a strangled sound that seemed far louder in the thick silence. Neither of the figures moved as your breathing evened, but each eye that was on you seemed to glow in the suffocating darkness. They were like predators poised to kill, and with the handcuffs keeping your arms behind the back of your chair and the rope holding your ankles still, it wasn't hard to guess who their prey was.

Familiarity was a quiet buzz in your ear, but you ignored it in favor of evaluating your chances of escape. As the fog cleared from your mind, however, you became less hopeful of your odds.

The figure to your right stood and approached you, his face slowly becoming visible as he walked towards the single light illuminating the middle of the room. He moved out of the shadows with careful, calculated steps, and you recoiled as soon as he came into view. While you barely recognized his face, you understood what the clothes he wore meant.

A black robe cloaked him almost as much as the darkness had, but it was the small red insignia on his sleeve that sent a cold chill down your spine. The bright red eyes of the skull seemed to glow in the darkness, almost matching those of the wearer.

"HYDRA," you whispered before you could keep your mouth from moving. You shut it immediately, unsure of where the word had come from, but realizing with uncomfortable clarity why it felt so significant.

HYDRA owned you. The thought was so clear that you wondered how you had ever forgotten. Suddenly, the urge to kneel at this man's feet and beg for any form of mercy made your position in the chair uncomfortable in an entirely new way. You shifted, nearly bowing your head to him when he caught your chin between long, nimble fingers.

His eyes held an intensity that sent a shock of fear through you. His fingers were cold where the met your skin, and you fought not to flinch when his hold tightened. He was looking at you like he could see into your mind and read your every thought.

"For someone under Kakashi Hatake's protection," he finally said, though his words held more curiosity than threat, "you are a laughably easy person to find."

You swallowed, but your throat had dried up the moment he'd stepped into view.

"I suppose I should apologize. Orochimaru was give far too much leeway. He should have been taken care of a long time ago."

Your breath halted at the name. Though it was still mostly a mystery to you, fear was a familiar feeling that wrapped itself around you and squeezed until you couldn't breath. The man watched you carefully, studying your reaction with clear interest.

His eyes drifted to the second figure sitting silently in front of you. His face had become more clear as your eyes adjusted to the darkness; long, dark hair framed his face, and his eyes were venomous, narrowing when they locked with yours. Though his head was downcast—partly, you assumed, because of the blood dripping down multiple cuts on his face—his expression was full of familiar malice.

For the past eight months, you'd felt as if a crushing weight was hovering just above you, held up by one thin thread. You knew what that weight contained—it was everything you'd lost. Even without it bearing down on your shoulders, you were certain that it would crush you, but you wanted to feel its weight all the same. You wanted to feel whole again—not like the ghost of someone you couldn't reach.

You laid eyes on Orochimaru, slumped in his chair and gagged by a white cloth, and the weight fell.

Memories of the experiments you'd undergone suddenly came into sharp focus, and the blurry face that had always resembled Kakashi finally became clear. Instead of grey hair, black locks came into view. They surrounded your vision as Orochimaru leaned over you in half-remembered memories, studying your eyes like they would hold the key to your submission.

His voice rang in your mind clear as day: I gave you everything. It is only right that you return my kindness. You owe me everything. This is your purpose.

It was his voice. His hands holding you down as you thrashed against bolts of lightning in your veins. His control masked as reassurances of an end to the pain. His face behind the mask that he wore to convince you that Kakashi was your enemy.

It was his rage that followed you when you escaped. His ghost that you were so desperate to protect Sakura from.

"Hm," the man hummed after observing you for a moment, "Kabuto was right. It is you that brings her memories back. That must've caused you quite the headache."

He was looking at Orochimaru now, who snarled at the man in front of him. You recognized the look—how had you ever forgotten such a terrifying face?—and the rage it contained did not seem to phase its receiver, but the force of it left you paralyzed.

Or maybe it was the memories that were still flooding your overloaded mind, each begging to be seen even when you had no more room left to look.

You didn't realize that the man had moved towards Orochimaru until you heard his voice. It was that same light, hissing cadence that made you beg for mercy each time you failed his experiments. It was the voice that raised you to submit to his will.

It was still just as terrifying as it had been when he abandoned you.

"I'm impressed," he said with a snarl, looking at you rather than the man now standing at his side. "I thought you were weak enough to be forced into submission. But look at you now: gaining the attention of the Akatsuki."

Your eyes widened, and your gaze snapped to the man who was watching the conversation with interest. He met your eyes, waiting in silence as you processed Orochimaru's words.

The Akatsuki were ghosts. You had never been told their identities, nor had you ever seen a member in the flesh.

All you knew was that they ruled HYDRA from the shadows, pulling the strings of the organization with terrifying ease.

"I've come to understand that the Red Room is in need of new leadership," the man sighed, a disappointed frown falling over his lips, "now I see that the problem is worse than I anticipated."

Orochimaru's rage filled the room like smoke. You felt as if you could choke on it—it filled your chest and left you breathless and gasping for air.

"Would you like to kill him?"

It took you far too long to realize that the question had been directed towards you. The words were as genuine as the man's gaze. He didn't say them like this was a taunt or a test of loyalty. It was an offer.

You swallowed against the panic blocking your throat. You couldn't breath. This man...you could feel his power. It filled the room, thick enough to drown you. You wanted more than anything to refuse—to make him understand that you couldn't kill Orochimaru—but you couldn't force a response from your lips.

"She won't kill me," Orochimaru sneered, saving you from the man's suffocating gaze. His eyes slid from you to Orochimaru, "she can't."

"We'll see," the man responded cooly. "Let's hope that fear was a strong enough tool to save you from your own creation."

The man reached behind you and unlocked the handcuffs around your wrists, then cut the rope from your ankles. Before you could regain feeling in your fingers, the cold, familiar steel of a gun was pressed into your hands. You looked down at it, expecting to see the HDYRA insignia etched into it. Instead, the hourglass-shape that symbolized the Red Room was cut into the grip.

This was Orochimaru's weapon. You'd watched him use it countless times. You had faced its barrel more than once.

Holding it felt wrong. The idea of using it made you nauseous.

"Well?" Orochimaru said, a cold grin on his face. "Prove me wrong, little spider."

You hated him. You hated how useless he rendered you—as if you were nothing more than a machine waiting for commands. You begged your useless limbs to lift the gun in your hands. Killing Orochimaru was something you'd dreamed of for a long time. It was an urge you'd felt more strongly than any other when he'd tried to kill you using Sakura's body.

The Akatsuki approached Orochimaru, producing a knife from within the robes that cloaked his figure. In one swift movement, he cut the ropes from his wrists and tucked the weapon away.

Orochimaru brought his hands in front of him, flexing his stiff fingers with a heavy sigh.

"You gain nothing if you kill me," he said, wasting no time before standing from his chair and pushing it to the side. He seemed utterly unconcerned by the weapon in your hand, "I'm not the one holding you hostage."

His eyes were on the Akatsuki now, as if he had forgotten all about your presence and the gun in your hand.

"You want your freedom so badly? Kill him," Orochimaru said, sliding his gaze towards you once again. He watched you with an intensity that made your stomach drop—his eyes were swimming with an emotion that you couldn't place. You could see that his desperation was turning into something closer to insanity.

"Kill him!"

You flinched against your chair, grip tight on the gun. The Akatsuki watched with thinly veiled interest, unconcerned with Orochimaru's attempts to get him killed.

"You understand, don't you?" Orochimaru said with a laugh, stepping towards you with little hesitation. You stood, pointing the gun towards him. Undeterred, he walked forward until the barrel touched his chest, "if you kill me, you'll never be free. Do you truly think the Akatsuki will let you go after everything you've done?"

You stilled.

Your life was beginning to feel like a cycle. The moment you escaped Orochimaru's suffocating clutches, he sank his fangs into you once again and dragged you back into his web. You had been trapped for a long time.

"Is that what I was with you?" you whispered. "Free?"

Orochimaru tilted his head, lips twitching with a poorly concealed smirk.

"If not for me, you'd have no home. Am I not your family?"

"No," you choked, "that's not what I asked. I asked if you gave me freedom."

Freedom was what you were taught to hate. Freedom went against everything you'd been told since birth. You were raised with a set of shackles and ordered to give the rest of the world the same treatment.

"Freedom is a lie," he hissed, amusement gone from his tone. He leaned over you, forcing you to lift your eyes to see his malicious snarl, "you've been gone for far too long. Freedom is unattainable, and therefore should not be striven for. You've wasted your time trying to escape the allegiance you owe to me."

Before you could respond, Orochimaru was reaching towards you with speed that you hadn't realized he possessed. He gripped your wrist and reached for the gun in your hand with a maddened look in his eyes and a fierce determination to bring you to your knees once again.

But you were faster. You shifted so your back was to him, but his grip on your wrist remained tight. To keep hold of you, he was forced forward, closing the distance between your back and his chest with a frustrated snarl. At the same moment that he tried to trap you with his other arm, caging you against his chest, you threw your head back against his. He released you with a groan, clutching his forehead and stumbling backwards. His eyes were alight with fury. Your hands trembled around the gun, adrenaline and fear mixing together to create a messy, confusing swirl of emotions in your gut.

Part of you wanted to beg for his mercy. Another part wanted to kill him where he stood.

He began approaching you again, seemingly too furious to speak, but you steadied yourself and lifted the gun. He stopped, disbelief making a split-second appearance on his face before it was masked with a smirk.

That twisted, sickening smirk seemed to follow you everywhere. Even now, after he'd tried so hard to erase himself from your memory and replace his cruelty with a false version of Kakashi, seeing that expression on his face felt like welcoming an old friend.

Every Widow was familiar with that smile. For many, it was the last thing they saw.

You were not righteous. You had never felt the desire to seek revenge or justice for the things Orochimaru had done. For most of your life, Orochimaru's word had been law. The Widows were unquestioning against his demands and unflinching in the face of his cruelty. Detached from the reality of your comrades dying, you had never considered their deaths as sacrifices or tragedies. You couldn't. You would've fallen apart the moment you let yourself grieve them.

"There will always be failures among you," he'd said once, "and it is my job to see that the weak are purged. You should all be honored that you are among the strong. I've chosen each of you because you have the potential for greatness. Do not disappoint me."

Perhaps it was the sudden onslaught of memories that made the voices of those he'd killed echo within your tortured thoughts. Perhaps their pleas for mercy were directed at you, transforming into demands for vengeance as each overlapped with the other.

They begged for his death. His suffering would calm them into silence. You were a vessel for their desires, and they wanted him to bleed.

"Beg me for your lives," he would order, watching with that same smirk as they got on their knees and asked for his mercy.

He never gave it to them.

"Believing that you are special," Orochimaru said lowly, "will only bring you misery. You're still the same, scared little girl that you've always been. You're barely keeping yourself upright."

He wasn't wrong. You could feel the tremors wracking your body, and you knew they were clearly visible to both him and the silent Akatsuki watching from the corner.

"Do you remember them?" you finally asked, voice hoarse and trembling, though you were beginning to have trouble distinguishing your fear from your fury. "The girls you've killed?"

He let out a sharp, cruel laugh.

"Do you?" he asked, eyes narrowed. "You're no more innocent than I am. That's why I chose you. And what do you do with my favor? You throw it away like some petulant, ungrateful child!"

"I never wanted to kill anyone."

"A sorry excuse," he spit, "that does not mean anything. I didn't give you a place as a Widow because you were skilled. Every girl I trained, alive or not, was a skilled spy and assassin. You were chosen because you were obedient. I told you to kill, and you did so without hesitation or mercy."

Hinata's face flashed in your mind, eyes wide and desperate as you sank a knife into her chest.

"Yet you still chose to follow my orders," he continued, "I was not controlling you. It was your hands that ended their lives. You may believe you're being righteous, but if your intentions were as pure as you seem to think them, you would end us both. Your hypocrisy disgusts me."

"You forced us to kill one another," you shook your head, fighting against the voice in your head insisting that he was right. "That wasn't a test of strength?"

"Strength of will," he grinned, teeth bared and shining in the dim light. "You proved your loyalty was to me rather than any so-called bonds you may have formed with the others. It's a pity I didn't see your uselessness sooner. Your work for me was certainly not worth the headache you've become."

His bravery was commendable. Or perhaps it was confidence in your inability to pull the trigger.

"Haruno was a step towards a better future," he told you, smile falling from his face, "I was close to perfecting her, and after that, I would've been able to implement the same technology for all of you. The Black Widow Program would have seen a new era of growth."

You bit your tongue, trying to contain your anger at such a casual mention of Sakura and her suffering. You felt the iron bite of blood stain your teeth and tongue and let it ground you.

A long time ago, you would've allowed yourself to become what he wanted. You would've tied yourself down at a single command from him and allowed him to control your each and every thought. All he had to do was say the word.

But you had never cared for him. Never loved him in the way that he imagined his Widows should. Even in your desperation to go back to him in those first months with Kakashi and Sakura, you hated yourself for your dependence on him. You hated him for turning you into an extension of his own will, leaving you with no room for your own thoughts or desires. You had always been angry. You had always hated him.

But your anger was a quiet thing.

It festered beneath layers of fear and unquestioning obedience. Orochimaru beat his girls down until devotion to him became second nature.

And although fear remained, your devotion had cracked beneath the weight of his cruelty a long time ago. And now you knew what kindness was. What it looked and felt like. Affirming words and gentle touches that had once been foreign broke through the haze created by Orochimaru's control. Each layer that he had built so meticulously had seemed to shatter with a single touch.

It had all broken down so easily. His fragility had never been more clear than in this moment.

"Beg."

Stillness followed the word. As the sound faded, it felt as if it took all of the air around you with it. You thought the room itself had gone still, paralyzed by the force of your command.

An invisible, suffocating weight fell onto your neck like hands, as if attempting to force the word back down your throat.

Orochimaru was silent. His face was a tempest of disbelief and rage, and his hands itched at his sides as if it was painful for him to keep them still.

"You think I won't kill you for what you've done to Sakura? To the other girls?"

You took a step towards him, gun now steady in your hand despite the slight tremble in your voice.

"To me?"

You might have lost your mind. He was certainly looking at you as if you had.

"Beg me for your life."

On your knees, he'd always ordered.

He needed to feel as powerless as the girls he'd killed.

Why does your life have value to me? he'd ask, not caring to hear the answer.

He needed to hurt like they did. Like Sakura did.

Beg me for your life, he'd said each and every time he held a Widow at his fingertips and made her grovel, and I'll consider letting you live.

"You're a fool," Orochimaru chuckled, voice low and quiet despite the fury behind his words. He looked like he'd gone mad with rage, just barely holding himself back from violence. "just like all the others."

He took another, careless step forward. Before he could take a second, you lowered the gun and fired off a single shot. It hit his leg with a muted crack, then he was on the floor, breathing through grit teeth. He fell to the opposite knee and let out a frustrated shout.

It felt like something had taken over your body. Like it wasn't your words, but the words of those who deserved justice slipping from your lips. Pure, unhindered anger surged through you like a sudden, destructive wave. You'd never felt anything like it before.

Perhaps it was Orochimaru's conviction that you were too weak to kill him that triggered it. Perhaps it was the sight of him on his knees in front of you and the sick satisfaction you felt at the sight.

Before he had a chance to react, you shoved him back with your heel. He landed on his back with another groan, and you pressed the toe of your shoe into his neck.

"Well?" you asked quietly. "Why do you think you deserve to live?"

"They're just going to kill you," he hissed lieu of an answer, meeting your eyes and choking on the final words when you pressed harder against his throat, "you...you think Hatake will be able to protect you and Haruno from them?"

The laugh he let out as he motioned vaguely in the Akatsuki's direction was nothing more than a wheeze, but it still sounded gleefully arrogant.

"I don't care anymore," you said, closing your eyes and raising your head to the ceiling, "he'll protect Sakura, and they can do whatever they want to me. It doesn't matter."

You lifted your foot from his throat and he gasped, laboriously pushing himself off of his back.

"As long as you're gone," you said, lifting the gun once again, "I can die in peace."

"Wait," he wheezed, holding up a hand as if it would do anything to block a bullet, "I can help you. I can help you gain your freedom from HYDRA."

He's getting desperate.

A smile slowly spread across your lips.

"I told you," you knelt down, pressing a thumb into the wound on his leg. He groaned, too weak from pain to move out of your reach, "to beg."

He was panting now, chasing after desperate gasps for air. Pathetic, the Widow whispered in your ear. You smiled again, lips splitting from ear to ear.

Hello, old friend.

"Please," he finally snarled, his glare deadly as he wrapped his fingers weakly around your wrist, attempting to pull your hand from his wound.

Ah, you thought, eyes lighting up as the word tumbled from his lips, so this is what power feels like?

"Again."

No longer was the room engulfed in silence. Filling it now were Orochimaru wheezing breaths, each one more labored than the last.

Then, he began to laugh.

"You..." he muttered as he pushed himself forward, settling into a crouch before meeting your eyes, "you really are a hypocrite."

Then, in a burst of strength, he leapt forward, hands grasping at your shirt and lips pulled back in a wild, furious snarl.

You fired a second time.

Finally, everything went still.

He stumbled, eyes locked onto yours and a foreign expression on his face: pure, unconcealed shock. Then he fell forward, hands still gripping your shirt. Even in death, he managed to pull you to your knees, though it didn't take much effort. The strings of ghosts holding you up and guiding you until this point were suddenly cut, and you collapsed in a heap of dread and debilitating relief.

Orochimaru landed unceremoniously next to you, arm hanging limply over your lap and his fingers loosened on shirt.

He had stopped breathing before he hit the ground.

Disgust suddenly sent a wave of nausea through you, and you shoved his arm off of your legs. He rolled onto his back, empty eyes staring at the ceiling and arm landing on the floor with a smack.

The sound sent a shudder through you. Any rational thought had left you in the wake of the chaos—you just felt empty.

You took a deep breath, choking on the inhale and sinking onto your back as you pushed it from your lungs.

"That was quite the performance."

You didn't have the energy to be startled. Your head rolled on the floor until you were looking into the Akatsuki's eyes. He had the audacity to look pleased.

"To think that one pesky little spy was enough to bring Orochimaru to his knees," he let out something akin to a chuckle, "The Red Room must've been more fragile than he was letting on. Though it's rather poetic, no?"

He knelt down next to Orochimaru's body and gingerly pulled his eyelids over his open, shocked eyes.

"Well, I suppose we can discuss it some other time," he said finally, standing and taking a step closer to you. You turned your head, forced to look straight up to keep your eyes on him, "under different circumstances."

"Where are the others?" you choked.

"They're safe," he responded cooly, "they're at SHIELD's headquarters. Well, almost all of them."

You narrowed your eyes at him, thinking back to the haze that the night before had become.

"Ino," you whispered, breath catching in your throat.

The man looked amused by your concern

"There's no need to worry about her," he shook his head, waving a hand as if waving the mere idea of her away.

"Where is she?" you asked weakly—a far cry from the demand that you meant it to be.

"As I said, she is no longer your concern, nor are you hers."

His voice had become firmer, and you were reminded who it was standing above you.

You closed your mouth.

Seemingly satisfied with the way things had gone, the Akatsuki gave one final glance at Orochimaru's body before turning in the direction of the door.

"Wait."

The man paused and glanced back at you, emotions wiped from his face. You looked at him again—studied his face and his black hair and the ring of red around his pupils.

"Sasuke..." you choked, "he has a brother."

He stared at you, expression the picture of composure, then slipped through the door.

You remained motionless on the floor for a long time, splayed out next to Orochimaru's motionless body. His blood stained the ceiling, and you flinched when a drop of it fell onto your face.

You couldn't—wouldn't—think about what you had done. If you acknowledged the blood splatter above you or the body next to you, you'd have to admit that...

That Orochimaru was dead.

What am I supposed to do now?

The thought was passing, but you felt wholly unequipped to try and answer it. You felt far away from the person who laid motionless on the ground next to the lifeless body of her creator.

And even though Orochimaru was gone, this was still a cage. HYDRA had still found you, and you were insignificant compared to the larger powers at play around you.

The Akatsuki had said it himself. You weren't important to HYDRA.

So why had you been given the power to kill Orochimaru?

Through a haze of muddled emotions, you heard boots pounding against the concrete floor outside. You tried to give your body the appropriate commands to prepare for an unexpected entry—get up, move behind the door, keep quiet and catch any intruders off guard.

But you remained motionless, completely drained of any fight you had left.

If you were going to be trapped by HYDRA again, then maybe letting them find you was the best option.

You could hear doors being opened from the end of the hall. It wouldn't take long for them to reach you, and it was clear from the gun in your hand and the body next to you what had taken place. They'd see what you had done, and they would finish the job that the Akatsuki had left incomplete.

You pushed yourself against the wall on the opposite side of the door, cloaking yourself in shadows. Orochimaru's body was illuminated by the single bulb hanging from the ceiling, and blood was pooling on the floor around his head, reflecting the light and looking impossibly bright against the concrete beneath him.

You closed your eyes, but his face remained burned into your memory like a brand of guilt.

It only took a few moments for the pounding feet to reach the door of the room you occupied. It was shoved open and hit the wall behind it with a crack. You swallowed against rising bile.

"Y/N."

Your eyes slipped open automatically at the sound of his voice.

He couldn't be real. The Akatsuki would be back for you. Catching the attention of such powerful members of HYDRA couldn't be anything less than a life-sentence spent serving them.

But...

"Kakashi?"

He was here. This wasn't some trick or a poor imitation—he was here and he was real.

You were reaching towards him before you could stop yourself, risking falling forward in your haste to feel something solid and real and alive beneath your palms. He rushed forward, kneeling in front of you and taking your face between unsteady hands. He studied you for a moment, searching your expression. His touch was warm, masking the lingering chill of the Akatsuki's fingers gripping your chin. You felt yourself relaxing, head sinking into his hold.

"You remember."

It wasn't a question, but you nodded anyways. You were still piecing together your memories, trying to sort out what was real and what had been a mere fabrication under the threat of torture, but your feelings—your real feelings—they were all there. They'd been dug up from the trenches of your mind and demanded recognition.

You felt the weight of Orochimaru's death and your tempestuous memories lift when Kakashi pulled you against his chest.

His arms were anchors. They kept you from slipping away or looking just past his shoulder at Orochimaru's body. You buried your face in his shirt, closing your eyes and breathing in the smell of the forest that lingered in the fabric.

"I found you," he whispered. You nodded, too drained to speak. He held you like you would slip through his fingers if he loosened his grip. Still, you wanted to be closer—to make sure you wouldn't fall away from him again.

"He's dead," you whispered. You looked up and watched the door with wide, burning eyes, terrified that the Akatsuki would come back through the door at any moment. You could still see the blood surrounding Orochimaru in your periphery. "I killed him."

You choked on the words, denial flooding you before you could stop it. You couldn't have...you wouldn't have killed Orochimaru. He was everything. Your master. Your father. The reason you were still alive. Without him, you–

"Stop," Kakashi whispered.

The river of doubt came to a halt, and all you saw in the clear blue was a reflection of you in Kakashi's arms.

"He's gone," Kakashi whispered. At the same moment he spoke the words into existence, he brought a hand up and cupped the side of your face, blocking his body from your line of sight. "He can't hurt anyone anymore."

The other girls. He can't hurt the other girls anymore.

He can't hurt Sakura anymore.

Your eyes drifted to Kakashi's wrist. Though it had been weeks since you'd attacked him, the ringed bruises where your hands had been hadn't fully faded yet.

You touched the marked skin as gently as possible, running the tips of your fingers over yellow and purple skin, then dipped a hand under his shirt and pressed it against his stomach. You remembered, albeit vaguely, the way you'd kicked him to the ground, heel mercilessly sinking into his stomach in your blind panic and rage. He hissed at your touch, barely loud enough for you to hear, but you froze at the sound, retracting your hand as if it had been burned.

"I'm so sorry," you croaked. You had done this to him. No explanation of brainwashing or torture could excuse that, "I hurt you-"

"Stop," he said firmly, "you thought I was going to hurt you, and you were defending yourself. Nothing that happened was your fault."

"I could've fought harder."

You'd known, even while in the deepest recesses of Orochimaru's tricks, that what you were being told wasn't true. You knew that some part of you had always been skeptical, even if it had been buried somewhere you couldn't see.

"You did what you did to save Sakura. If anyone should've fought harder, it's me. I was the one who thought she was safe, and I was wrong. I should've fought harder for you."

You shook your head, but stilled when Kakashi's head fell against your shoulder. He deflated, sinking into your arms as if all of the energy had drained from him in a single moment. His hands fell from your face and wrapped around your waist, pulling you in so close that your legs had no where to go but on either side of him. You blinked, one hand lifting to tangle in his hair and the other falling to his waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The hands around your waist were trembling just slightly. Kakashi's head was pressed against your neck, and you could feel his eyelashes brushing again your skin.

"Kakashi..."

"Don't leave again," he whispered, breath heating your skin. You felt his lips brush against your neck as he spoke, and your grip tightened on his waist, "please."

Your breath halted at the word, and you could feel your heart racing as you thought back to what you'd done just moments before.

Beg, you'd said. You hadn't even hesitated.

You were just like Orochimaru. Kakashi hadn't seen your cruelty towards him. Hadn't seen how bloodthirsty you were in his final moments. Would he still be saying this if he knew what you'd done?

"Breath."

Kakashi was running a hand up and down your spine, as if coaxing the air from your lungs. You did your best to do as he asked, taking in a trembling breath and closing your eyes so that you couldn't see the gruesome scene surrounding you.

"They're going to kill me, Kakashi," you whispered, panic finally finding its home back in your chest. There was no world in which the Akatsuki let you live after everything that had happened.

Kakashi sat up at your words, his hands leaving behind a captivating warmth on your back.

"Who–"

The creaking of the door cut him off, and you looked over Kakashi's shoulder and met the eyes of a woman standing in the entrance. Kakashi lifted his head at the noise, tense and preparing to jump from where he sat to confront the intruder, but to your surprise, he relaxed at the sight her. Her eyes shifted from you and Kakashi to the body on the ground, then back again.

"Tsunade," Kakashi said, voice hoarse. "Buy us a few minutes. Please."

You watched, wide eyed, as Kakashi addressed the director of SHIELD like they were old friends. The woman standing in front of you was someone you'd been taught to despise your whole life, and Kakashi was still holding onto you like she was simply a passing stranger whose opinion held no weight.

Tsunade was silent. She watched you with a calculation that almost reminded you of Orochimaru. You shivered, still doing everything in your power to block his body from your view. Finally, Tsunade sighed and stepped out of the room.

"Ten minutes," she instructed coolly. "All clear! Start searching the next corridor!"

When the door slammed shut behind her, you looked back at Kakashi with wide, panicked eyes.

"Why is SHIELD here?"

The better question was: why isn't HYDRA?

"I'll explain everything," he swallowed, "I promise. I just...I need to hear you say that you'll stay."

That was not a simple request for him to make.

"Kakashi...it's not that easy. HYDRA will still–"

"I don't care."

You looked up, shocked by the intensity of his gaze. He looked angry and determined and desperate. He looked so, so sad.

"I'll fight for you," he said lowly, framing your face between his palms once again, "you've done nothing but think of others since the moment we met. Let me return the favor."

You felt warm. Warmer than you had in so long. Like the chill in the air left by the Akatsuki had been washed away by Kakashi's presence. You wanted to hold onto it for as long as possible.

Could you really go back after everything you'd done?

"I..."

You wanted too much. It felt selfish, but you were suddenly filled with desires that you hadn't dared to fully consider with Orochimaru's threats looming over you. With his mere existence making you fear any form of attachment.

You wanted to be with Sakura. You wanted to help Kakashi train and protect his students. You wanted to be able to feel this intoxicating warmth everyday.

"Please," he said again, and this time is felt less like a curse and more like a promise, "I need you to stay."

What about SHIELD? you wanted to ask, What about HYDRA? The Akatsuki? The kids?

But instead:

"Ok."

Just this once, in this moment, you would be selfish.

But as Kakashi deflated, sinking back into your arms and letting out a shaking breath, it didn't feel like selfishness at all.

It felt like freedom.

MEMORANDUM FOR

FROM: Agent Danzo Shimura

TO: Director Tsunade Senju

SUBJECT: Operation MASQUE

MISSION REPORT

On September 22, Agent DANZO SHIMURA received a tip from [REDACTED] regarding Agent KAKASHI HATAKE's contact with active HYDRA personnel. On September 23, Agent Shimura deployed a reconnaissance team to SHIELD COMPOUND 18 for confirmation. The reconnaissance team consisted of Agent GENMA SHIRANUI, Agent ASUMA SARUTOBI, and Agent KURENAI YŪHI. Agent Shiranui reports TARGET A (Y/N Y/L/N, Alias: BLACK WIDOW) being restrained in the medical wing, likely due to hostile behavior.

On September 27, Agent Shimura organization OPERATION MASQUE to infiltrate and detain the targets and escort Agent Hatake as well as trainees SAKURA HARUNO, NATURO UZUMAKI, and SASUKE UCHIHA for questioning. At 18:00, the Recon Team began the operation. Anticipating hostile behavior, Agent Sarutobi released an incapacitating toxin into the outpost's ventilation system and waited until all suspects had been effected. Agent Sarutobi entered the building at 18:15 and observed TARGET A and TARGET B (INO YAMANAKA, Alias: BLACK WIDOW) speaking in the left wing of the compound. Both targets then began carrying all of the buildings occupants (including trainee SHIKAMARU NARA, who has been cleared of suspicion) into Agent Hatake's bedroom. Agents Sarutobi, Shiranui, and Yūhi converged on the targets' location and forced entry into the room. All occupants had been incapacitated and were prepared for transport back to SHIELD Headquarters.

At 20:00, SHIELD's transport vehicle was forcefully stopped and raided by Red Room operatives. The unidentified individuals removed Targets A and B from SHIELD's vehicle and transferred them into an unregistered black van. Agents Yūhi and Shiranui continued to SHIELD headquarters to bring Agent Hatake and his trainees to safety, while Agent Sarutobi pursued the suspects to an inactive HYDRA base.

Following Agent Sarutobi's report on the targets' location, Director TSUNADE SENJU took over the operation and successfully detained Target A in the HYDRA base (see separate report for details). No suspicious HYDRA affiliates were found within the base. As of September 28, Target B is missing.

CONCLUSION

I, Agent Danzo Shimura, recommend an indefinite suspension of Agent Kakashi Hatake from duty and the immediate detention of Y/N Y/L/N, as well as the reassignment of Sakura Haruno, Naruto Uzumaki, and Sasuke Uchiha.

END MEMORANDUM

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Author's note | thank you for reading! i promise y'all when i started this series i did not intend for the burn to be this slow. i PROMISE we're getting somewhere in that regard, and even though we're nearing the end of this series, i have so many ideas that i'm so excited about for more fics involving these characters so it will continue to burn (or just like,,,be on fire ig). i'll be taking a short break before i start writing again, but the sequel series will not take long to get going after i finish this one, so stay tuned!

i hope the amount of unanswered questions left from this part is exciting and makes you want to read more to see what's going on. if you find it takes away from the reading experience (or makes it better), please leave some thoughts! also, as always, any thoughts and feedback are more than welcome

i'd once again like to say thank you to everyone who has left me such wonderful comments and feedback. you guys are truly the reason i have continued writing this series (fun fact about me: this is the first series i've ever actually finished and have been excited about for this long). alongside the sequel series i have planned, i'd also like the write some one-shots that are more fluffy and light-hearted, so please send any requests for scenarios you want to see these characters in to my tumblr (linked below).

thank you to everyone who is still following this series. your patience astounds me. i feel like the time between each chapter has been getting longer, but i really want to be putting out quality storytelling and writing for you, and i don't have a beta so i get a bit perfectionistic about editing and stuff (even though i know it's not perfect).

anyways, that's all from me! i'll see you guys in the final chapter (although i know myself and the next chap might end up being so long-winded that i just split it into two, so we'll see). if you've read this far into the a/n you are my hero and i love you. please leave me some love if you enjoyed!

title is from "Bite the Hand" from boygenius

[inanisomnia]

ೃ⁀➷the apricity of your touch / chishiya x gn!reader

summary: who knew that a single touch brings back strings of emotions and memories?

warning/s: mentions of blood, implications of sex, slighty ooc, s2 spoilers, profanities, and slightly ungrammatical

word count: 1663

okay but damn this got me researching about things that are medically related - basically me trying to sound proficient and knowledgeable in the medical field... and ngl i enjoyed writing this i hope you do find this read enjoyable as well TOT

oh and btw my writing style here is inspired by @archieimagines ' antidote (a chishiya ff as well) bc damn we were having a quiz in physics and it randomly pops up in my head making me all giggly. idk if i did chishiya justice here tho, i tried istg tot

++ reqs are closed; will finish my remaining works first before i open it again ^^

if you enjoyed reading this, lemme know by liking and reblogging it would mean a lot - only do it if its okay with you. <33 enjoy !!

"i'm sorry. we did the best that we can do." a glum voice spoke out that was soon drowned out by a series of wails, and pained cries of desperation coming from the woman with a frail body, her body shaking from the pain of it all. this is a sound that has been a little too familiar to the ash-blonde-haired man that stood a few blocks away from the scene for he was a former messenger of unpleasant updates. he took a deep breath and tore his gaze away from the weeping woman, and walked away.

his footsteps reverberated throughout the bland and empty hallways; the shiny, vinyl composite flooring – all covered in a pale color. sullen walls painted in white, glass walls separating each room, and compartments, decorated with nothing but a single table, and pair of chairs planted in front, and ivory curtains that hid the examination bed from behind the doctor's table. there was a bit of greenery found inside each room – a small pot of succulents and snake plants, a forlorn attempt at making the area look somewhat lively and comforting. louver lights flickering and blinking - illuminating the dust littered particularly in the air. empty hallways filled with the ghosts of past mistakes and hope delicately revived.

everything about the premise is melancholic and a reminder of how futile and vulnerable humans can be once a part of them starts to fluctuate and fail.

"shuntaro, you have a patient at the consulting room, i think they're here for a brief check-up." a silvery voice chimed in from behind the reception lobby, her hair tied in a sleek ponytail, with a clean make-up look.

the man named chishiya nodded in response and immediately head towards the elevator. Its been 3 months and a half since the meteor struck their city - thousands of people died brutally, and multitudinous casualties.

for quite some time, after chishiya woke up in the same dreary bed located in the lackluster rooms in the hospital, he had a few realizations - actually, lots of realizations to be honest, as if something inside him cleared. if you died for a minute, for sure after you woke up you would look at life in a different light - that’s what chishiya thought.

aside from this, he also has this gnawing feeling in the pits of his stomach, that hefty void in his heart he can’t explain at all, as if he was missing something or he was meant to do something but he forgot about it - and god, this was frustrating as hell for the platinum-haired man.

the elevator dinged signifying that he reached the floor he needed to go to, abruptly disrupting the enigmatic trance chishiya was in. his slender, veined careful hands turned the cold knob of the consulting room, and there, he saw a dainty figure, hunched over - hands placed on their knees, delicate fingertips drumming in anticipation.

you seemed to be lost in your own reverie because you didn’t lift your head up when chishiya entered the room - you were biting the insides of your cheek, and your hair stubbornly falling on your face despite being tucked behind your ear.

“good afternoon,” chishiya greeted you, his voice husky yet silvery at the same time, caught your attention as you instantly whipped your head towards the man who spoke in front of you. his hands were both inside his pockets, a single black pen clipped in his lab coat’s chest pocket.

you stood and greeted him back - the man briefly smiled and quietly walked towards the consulting table. his hair was gracefully tied up in a ponytail. the air conditioner in the room blew a gentle, wintry breeze, and the moment chishiya entered the room, it seemed like his woody, and musk scent delicately mixed into the whole ambiance.

the man wearing the medical coat then initiated the check-up - he asked a series of questions and listened to your concerns and as your words stretch into hazy sentences, something about you feels oddly familiar to him who intently stared at you as you talk, nods every now and then and he tried to analyze, not what you're trying to say, but your features. god, you look so familiar, but he can't even remember when and where he saw or met you. was it at that coffee shop downtown? or on the thrifting book event that was hosted 4 months ago that he accidentally stumbled upon? he sighed and looked down.

“i’m really sorry for the inconvenience, i -” you apologized, apparently, you were here for a monthly check-up but dr. kobayashi wasn’t around, but it didn’t bother chishiya at all - he was intrigued by you.

“It’s fine, no worries.” chishiya replied, shaking his head as he smiled and waved off your statement. he mentioned you to go to the examination bed located near the window, a few blocks away on the left side of the table.

there was tranquility laced in the atmosphere, a comfortable silence, between the two of you - chishiya followed you close behind, after grabbing his stethoscope from the drawer.

ೃ⁀➷ i don't wanna live forever ; zayn malik and taylor swift

the distance between the two of you was closed the moment chishiya carefully placed his stethoscope two intercostals beneath your left collarbone - “take a few deep breaths,” he requested, voice low and hoarse, but incredibly honeyed. the cold metal of the stethoscope’s bell seeped through the fabric of your clothing, making you heave your breath deeper.

chishiya’s eyes lose focus every now and then, torn whether to look in your eyes or anywhere else as he listens to your hushed heartbeats. your body was tense and stiff - so was your gaze. “nicely done, just a few more and we're done.” he mused, because somehow, he can’t breathe as well - there was this electrifying aura that engulfed the two of you; he switched his instrument and placed it the same exact distance beneath your clavicle, this time on the right side.

“Where the fuck were you? I was so worried.”

maybe two or three harsh flashes of vivid images popped up in his head, an array of disorganized thoughts and memories he doesn’t know where and when happened - he gulped. what the hell is happening?

down. he placed his stethoscope on the 4th intercostal space of your ribs, between your chest- “breathe,” he repeated, this time, with emphasis.

perched at the second floor’s railings, you were staring down at the people partying their lives away, their hands either full with glasses of cocktails and whiskey paired with intoxicating lit cigarette sticks, dim embers falling gracefully on the ground, contrasting the scintillating array of led lights that surround the premise, there you were, directly proportional to him, eyes full of genuine adoration and fleeting lust.

ೃ⁀➷everything has changed ; taylor swift and ed sheeran

down, again. beneath your chest, located in the middle of your 5th intercostal space - “come find me after we get out of here, okay? i’ll wait for you.” your ragged, and sweet voice croaked out before you fell to the ground. chishiya watched as you bathe in your own pool of blood, body covered in stab wounds, bruises, and fractured bones that you acquired after your fight with the king of spades.

ah. yes. you - the one who pulled him back to the halo of hopes amidst the hell that most of you players call, borderland. his saving grace, the only thin thread of humanity and sanity that keeps him in check every now and then. you, who he shared most of his nights with, souls and bodies entangled under the sheets, finding solace and pleasure in each other. you who would join him in his insanity on starless night skies boring each other's insecurities and deepest regrets to each other.

you, who he considered as his serendipity of kindness that he found in the discord of hostility - the person he never knew he would fall for, and give his all to see back again, after the hellish nightmare both of you shared.

“all done.” the taller one smiled, as he helped you get off the examination bed - he held your hands to assist you and your skin felt warm against his freezing ones, soft against his calloused touch, your gaze calm contrasting his frenzied eyes, masked by a half smile, and curt bows.

seconds stretched into entangled minutes - and chishiya was contemplating whether to ask you about what he suddenly remembered upon relishing in your serene presence.

“thank you. have a nice day ahead.” you bowed as you bid your goodbye to him.

fuck.

he thought, the uneasiness crawling under his skin violently the moment you were gone from his sight - should he take this chance? or was he just hallucinating? would it be weird if approaches you and ask you that question? he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anxious around him.

but damn, those memories that popped up in his head are as real as he could feel in his heart, mind, and body. he sighed and ran outside. he won't overthink this one anymore.

hasty and desperate footsteps echoed on each hallway and floor that he strided in a hurry - upon reaching the lobby, he whipped his head to search for your figure only to find you almost outside. he heaved a deep breath and called your name that halted your pace towards the main door.

“i’m really sorry to ask you this question and it might be unprofessional of me, but i’m sure we’ve met before.” he breathed, his bangs covering half of his confused face.

you chuckled. “i thought you forgot.”

relieved, he smiled back. “almost.”

“would you like to have lunch with me, dr. shuntaro?” you quipped, and offered your feeble warm hands.

“it would be an honor.” and placed his hand on yours - the apricity of your touch reminded him of what comfort and cloud 9 felt like.

<33

[babycakezfix]

🍒Favorite Fics🍒

MDNI, 18+

all of the following contain smut

Last Updated: 01/30/24

*none of these are my works, just wonderful amazing fics that ive found, all credit goes to the wonderful authors, also none of the gifs are mine💋*

ps: I will continually update when I find more gold 🫶

Joel Miller

ONESHOTS

Dangerous - enimies to lovers, post breakout, slight angst, smut

Starving - strangers to lovers, smut, slight angst, post-breakout

For Science - friends to lovers, period sex, comfort/fluff

Crave - strangers to lovers, smut, sex worker reader

stranger than a stranger - manipulation, very dark joel, NONCON, perv joel, smut

patrol - caught masturbation, patrol w/ joel, smut

lazaretto - sex pollen, feral joel, !!!!NONCON!!!!

hunger - sex pollen, dubcon, after starving you and joel eat mysterious berries, slight brat!reader, age gap

healed - injured!reader, freinds to lovers, almost noncon (but joel saves reader)

one bed - smut :), stubborn joel (as always), pining (kinda)

alone and forsaken - cockwarming, hurt/comfort, horny!reader, their desperate

buzz - dbf joel, innocent (ish) reader, alcohol, smoking weed, age gap (legal)

truth or dare - dubcon!!! (but reader initiated everything), reader had a sex dream about modurn!au joel and was dared to see how far he'd go, age gap, rough, actually disgusting :)

SERIES

his favorite girl, part i - absolutely amazing, slight smutish? guitar playing joel, no outbreak au, angst

sensational; part ii - find part one on the fic, innocent reader, friends to lovers, smut, angst

Aches - perv joel (🫶), friends to lovers, innocent reader, smut

thoughts - part 2 to aches, friends to lovers, smut

monsters - enemies to lovers-ish, joel and reader clash, reader used to be innocent but now both her and joel are kinda "monsters" as the title says, but they both have a soft spot for ellie

teeth - tension finally breaks, smut, joel makes it seem like a business transaction but they are literally in love with each other <3

one thing i'm missing - literally the sweetest, most amazing joel fic out there. soft!joel, and soft!reader, they're blind, pining, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

feelings on fire - reader is back home from college to her extremely religious parents, joel miller is the new neighbor, corruption, age gap, inexperienced/virgin reader, joel kinda scares me in this ngl

Din Djarin

ONESHOTS

First - (a03 link) virgin din, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst

where to start - virgin din (virgin din owns my heart), slight dom reader, fluffish

virgin mando - virgin din, shy din, slight dom reader, fluff

holy terrain - friends to lovers, sex pollen, clueless readrr, reader gets sex pollen, smut

sex pollen - sex pollen trope, fluff, smut

in the darkness - slight noncon? but enjoys it? smut, jedi reader, entering mandos dreams

midnight excursions - late night surprises, friends to lovers, awkward reader, smut, slight dom mando

just like that - virgin reader, dom mando, one bed kinda, fluff, smut

body heat - filth, absolutely wonderful, dom mando, its cold, basically anything by @absurdthirst is actually amazing, please read their whole ass masterlist 🙏🙏

blue crush - sex pollen, dubcon, rough, it's your birthday

gut wrenching - sex pollen (theres gonna be a lot of these), dubcon, thigh riding, kinda mean mando

chemical feelings - sex pollen (again), mando affected, slight voyeurism

heat - broken air conditioning and forced proximity

to be taken care of - drunk!mando, soft din, drunk sex, feeeelinggss

just a little taste - inexperienced!din, brothel, sex work (but not reader)

focus - telepathic reader, established situationship, slight dom!din, fantasies

cherry waves - sex pollen, affected!reader, mando lends a helping hand

cutting it close - din and reader are bounty hunting in a busy club, they cant be seen, fake dating-ish?

somno - very!dark!din, NONCON, somnophilia, alcoholic reader

one stowaway, why not two - sex pollen, bounty!reader, service top din, helmet stays on, dubcon

take good care - sex pollen, dubcon, service top din, this is so good, please read

deep into the wilderness - sex pollen, dubcon, din gets bit by a snake, desert sex (tatooine)

Frankie Morales

SERIES

pt. 1 endorphins - addict!frankie, best friend reader, (sex instead of drugs), this fic is actually so amazing

pt. 2 addicted - shower sex, masturbation

Ezra (Prospect)

ONESHOTS

sex pollen - (what did we expect guys, im obsessed) dubcon

Bucky Barnes

ONESHOTS

dry humping - sub bucky, smut

win you over - bathroom sex, pining, distractions, fake dating

try to relax - forced proximity, enimies to lovers, locked in a room for hours, weed!use, slight? dubcon cause of said weed, pining

SERIES

kneel, pray and obey - father barnes, literally unholy, smut, innocent reader

unholy sacrifice - 3some, smut, unholy, smutttt, innocent reader

Natasha Romanoff

ONESHOTS

stimulation - sub nat, nipple play, smut, fluffish, established relationship

straight a student - dom nat, smut, teacher x student

Wanda Maximoff

SERIES

cute little family - dark, daddy nat, mommy wanda, wandanat, innocent reader, smut, part 1 is linked to fic

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto

ONESHOTS

the panic of love - fluff, angst, smut, very fluffy smut, feeelinggss (ik, but its worth it). hes such a gentleman

Tate Langdon

ONESHOTS

ouija board - tate has been watching reader for awhile, she and her friends decide to use an ouija board, kinda? dubcon?, soft!tate, smut

eyeliner - pining, idiots in love, tate being a teenage boy!, he's honestly feral in this one

Jimmy Darling

ONESHOTS

i held my nose and took a drink - this fic is so good trust me, reader is hypnotist, love potion (sex pollen trope), drunk jimmy, its sex pollen so dubcon, they've always had a crush on each other

chantilly lace - virgin!reader, soft smut, the tupperware party, friends pressure reader into seeing jimmy, jimmy being so sweet so charming so amazing i love him so much. oh also prostitute!jimmy

Kyle Spencer

(these are probably all going to be franken!kyle cause he's so babygirl)

ONESHOTS

in the end of the night, i can feel your warmth - franken!kyle, primal?ish?, kyle does stuff off of instinct, praise, sweet kyle, sexual guidance/coaching

feed my frankenstein - primal!kyle, franken!kyle, stripper!reader, zoe and madison are irresponsible(in this), biting, rough smut, blood

unsupervised tablet time - kyle somehow comes across p0rn on his tablet, he comes to you for help, slight dubcon? at the start, so fluffy, the fluffiest

Kai Anderson

ONESHOTS

howlin' for you - dubcon, slight NONCON? reader is winters best friend, rough, enemies to lovers (but not really), halloween :) this one is honestly so hot

Peter Maximoff

ONESHOTS

Bitchin - smut without plot, slight public stuff, he's so babygirl

sunlight - smut, clairvoyant reader, porn with plot, virgin reader, its honestly so good, please read it

SERIES

pt 1 pt 2 honeysuckle - sex pollen (I'm so sorry its my favorite) smut, porn with plot, this is amazing, beautiful, so hot.

[aristia-pjoheadcanons]

Hi! Sorry for bothering, but I was wondering if you could make some headcanons of Jason dating a daughter of Hecate who loves reading (after he breaks up with Piper), please?

I belong to cabin 20th and it's kind of bad that there isn't much representation of these demigods on the fandom 😓

Thank you so much because your amazing headcanons are making the waiting for the series release so much bearable 😊

Lots of love, take care 🫶🏼

authors note: oh my gosh, daughter of hecate? yes, please. I headcanon myself as a child of hecate too y'know.

pairings: jason grace x hecate reader

warnings: none

->masterlist

Jason Grace dating a Child of Hecate

art by Viria

Jason Grace is not a difficult guy, he just slightly complex when it comes to the way he shows he cares for others.

Since Hecate is basically the goddess of sorcery, magic, and everything in that box - you're abilities are quite open and great. A child of HECATE WOULD BE VERY USEFUL IN BATTLE, considering the fact that their magic leaves them pretty flexible and open.

Jason is a strategist, he plans ahead of time and can think of a lot of plans with just your powers. a formiddle force the two of you make

the two of you cause a storm whenever you fight

i imagine that he is somewhat quiet, even if he is a leader he's not as socially outward as you think. he is social, but it takes time for him to warm-up. he puts people in categorizes on how much of his plans can he tell them, and how much can he not. but with you, he shares everything.

he wants you to be comfortable. feeling at home, somewhere safe, is a dream jason has in his mind. he dreams of the future with you. he is a protecter, a fierce one, not minding if he has to bare his teeth in order to do so - he doesnt even mind hurting his own reputation since he can fix it quickly.

im sorry, but i see jason as a parallell captain america, i cant help but imagine him in that costume. make him dress up as him during halloween.

sweet, caring and daring. he isnt the most bold with pda, kissing or touching you the way percy might do. but he is willing to take the leap of faith to kiss you when the moment is right, subconsciously find a place for the two of you so he can kiss you in private. he prefers the idea of a solitute that is safe.

i feel like when he fell for you he'd give you a nice small smile from time to time, and he kept doing it everytime you made eye-contact since you gave him that beautiful smile back.

charming, not just because of his leader position (which makes him hot and commanding ngl), but because he is confident in his movements even if its techniqally his "first time".

this guy is both an owl and a chameleon

his way of showing he likes you is keeping an eye on you. he knows better than anyone that people need space, especially him. but he likes to analyze the type of person you are and what type of character you have. if you are a very touchy, cheerful, charismatic person then he wouldn't mind switching and copying that to become closer to you.

this guy has no issue changing the personality he has, because to him it doesn't change who he is. his goals, accomplishments are all the same. he is kind-off used to change. lupa's training program, romans making him a preator when he didn't really want that position, becoming a hero, losing his memories, loving piper and losing her, joining camp half-blood and staying there from time to time, learning how to become friends with different people - even if he is similar to them ex. annabeth and percy.

sorry if i'm projecting my personal hc of my oc, but i like the idea of being able to summon monsters from card decks ex. mythomagic. like monsters from the dead/necromancy (that you/your team has killed) or being able to summon anything from a card that has a picture of the entity ex. minotaur.

they can use shadows to create a barrier as a shield or a barrier of invinsibility.

jinxes, hexes and curses similar to harry potter can be casted. the time you hexed someone bc they insulted your friend was the day you heard jason grace laugh with his loud voice.

when jason laughs you can hear his chest and throat vibrate. idk how to explain it other than it being manly.

cursing their opponents to make them weaker, forcing their opponents to relieve a really embarassing moment in their life which will make them frozen on the spot.

jasons voice has a deep timbre, its kind of gruff in situations where hes holding back his anger or frustration - he really has trained subconsciously to make his voice steady.

the deep timbre can be intimidating since when he speaks, his voice has a sense of authority and dephr that commands respect.

his voice can be very gentle and sweet and soothing, but sometimes a little too loud. i feel like he cant really whisper. his voice is deep that the sound carries through the air since his voice has a natural badd-heavy quality to it. which makes his voice more loud, enhanced in a way, especially in enclosed spaces, small rooms or inside of a car because his voice resonates and the sound travels farther.

his assertivness disappears slightly when he speaks to you. tbh its pleasurable when he speaks in your ear its just to easy to close your eyes and relax when he talks.

why do i feel like he can crush an apple with his hands? either way, he has a big heart which is bigger than his biceps.

because hes so reflective he asks deep questions, dont be surprised if you end up talking to him for more than 4 hours, he is very attentive and sensitive to your body language - alwasy reading them to make sure you're enjoying the conversation.

when things get tough, he will place a warm palm on the center of your back as a way to reassure you but also to reassure himself that you're okay.

he asks thoughtful questions and is keen to learn more about your connection to the underworld. combining forces would be great but he understand if you're not much of a fighter (not all people are), hes willing to carry you if you do end up fighting.

i feel like he is such a supportive person, through his own ways. he takes time in learning about the way you like doing things, but also what is the best corse of action for you. hes willing to lay down a plan or a schedule to make studying easier for you for example.

he provides feedback that is quite honest but in a caring and supportive manner. also when he demonstrates his swordmanship you cant help but look at how much of a skilled soldier he is, his techniques are extraordinary but also has a sense of ownership to it, he has taken time to disect and make some of the steps his quirks, so some things you cant keep up with. while percy is very flexible and agile with his sword, jason is forceful and dependable, his raw power mixed with his passion makes it easy for him to win any fight : its similar to a storm, furious and you dont realise that it has caught you inside of it until its too late.

he helps you with the mechanics if the movements of any weapon. bow&arrows, swords, daggers. he might not use a bow but he has memorizes the textbook-form and can correct you just fine. he radiates confidence even when he doesnt feel that way, which is both inspiring and truly sad that he feels like he has to act refined and perfect, almost like a "prince" in public.

he likes to read the same books that you read to try to understand you better but also to have something to talk about

he would make his bedroom / dorm as comfortable as possible for your reading purposes. like adding a bookshelf or getting blankets and tea/coffee that you like. he makes an effort to provide. that is his love language.

he is interested in his partner's ideas and interpretations of the books they read, and enjoys hearing your throughs on different topics.

he respects your qualtity and peaceful time and dont mind leaving you alone when you're reading. but is willing to sit there for hours quietly letting you do your thing. if you cuddle with him, hell put his glasses on and read above your shoulder, lean in and you can feel his hot breath against your neck.

he needs time after he breaks things off with piper, but eventually he heals and moves on. his heart is complete and whole again and makes a better effort to keep this relationship lasting, and protected.

[meetinginsamarra]

Self-rec Thingy

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love ❤

Thank you for the tag @raina-at

It feels like betrayal to my beloved children 😉 to pick five but here we go.

The Perfect Place 

Sherlock needs a flatmate and already has the perfect person in mind. Now he only needs to convince his object of desire to move in and also find out if he desires Sherlock as well.

I am so in love with my second newest fic! Written daily for some of calais_reno's mayprompts 2024, it evolved into a hilarious funny cringefest with pining idiots and snarky comments made by the narrator. I grinned/laughed all the time while writing and people in the comments said they did, too. 10k words.

The Curious Case of the Casablanca Killer 

Deemed a three at best, the case of an invisible burglar in a historic cinema who stole nothing only caught Sherlock’s attention because he was bored. Also, he wanted to do John a favour. In the end, this proved to be a real stroke of luck. Otherwise, Sherlock would have missed an intriguing mystery that quickly ramped up in complexity.

I am very proud of this one! My first real 100% case fic. It took a lot of plotting and about a year to complete. It started as a gift for my friend and beta reader @peageetibbs , a short idea for a murder in a cinema since my friend runs a real cinema with a group of people in real life.

I have imagined that a lot more people would be eager to read this (ngl I am disappointed about its hit count development). Sherlock solves a complicated case, lots of hints and clues, all is logical and an epic chase sequence at the end. Established friendship, no smut. 56k words. Go read!

Learn My Scars 

After being thrown down and strangled, Sherlock leaves John in the restaurant, angry and deeply hurt. When John follows Sherlock to 221b, he learns that Sherlock's scars have not been acquired by “gallivanting around” for two years.

Very proud of this one, too. It has been written under a huge amount of stress. Written for whumptober 2022, it was posted daily for 31 days with sometimes really long chapters of over 2k words. Looking back, it feels like I've written all my spare time and doing little else for six weeks. It was insane and it was great.

It has the most kudos and second most hits of my fics, 38k words.

Sherlock comes home after the hiatus. My S3 fix-it fic starts at the restaurant scene and goes very differently afterwards. Johnlock endgame, lots of hurt/comfort and tales of what happened to Sherlock while being away, including a long part set in the Serbian cell.

The 13th Book 

Summoning a demon was actually quite simple if you could avoid getting killed in the process. Therefore, only the powerful, the desperate or the stupid would attempt it. John Watson was likely the first, definitely the second but hopefully not one of the third kind.

A magical realism AU. Sorcerer John summons a demon, Sherlock. It happens very differently than it's been expected. Not a lot of actual magic but enemies to friends and an epic bromance ensues. Funny moments, no smut. 26k words.

My AU world interweaves with BBC Sherlock universe and incorporates "Inspector Columbo" and "On the run elements" and this is the reason why I've picked the fic for this list. I made real still-life arrangements for each chapter and photographed them. The pics are posted in the fic. I am a bit sad that there are not so many hits on this one.

Wretched and Divine 

Dr. John Watson is on call at the A&E when he attempts to treat a very special patient. Instead he finds himself a very special treat.

My first ever posted fic. The punklock AU different first meeting is still very well-written (so I believe) for a first! It's funny, in character, on point and John is so in for a surprise! 5k words.

I love the punklock theme so much that this one spawned a sequel and I wrote another 3-part series with punk!Sherlock.

+++++++

Tagging @keirgreeneyes and everone who wants to share (I forgot who's already been tagged).