#BUT IT'S NOT ECHOES MY ORBS ARE SAFE!

[aperrywilliams]

Has a Nice Ring to It (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Wife!BAU!Reader.

Request: Hi, I would like to request one where the reader and Spencer adopt a 4-year-old boy that they rescued in a case.

Summary:  It's pretty much the same as the request says, but focused on how they met with the boy and took the decision to adopt him.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Hurt/comfort and angst with a happy ending. CM typical stuff, murder, unsubs, death of relatives, orphancy. Pregnancy and adoption are discussed. I don't know how the adoption system works in the US, so bear with me.

A/N: I loved the request. Dad!Spencer lives rent-free in my mind. Tell me your thoughts.

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‘(Y/N)? What's your location and status? I repeat, what's your location and status?'

Hotch's voice echoes through your earpiece, but you are not able to speak. Not when the scenario in front of you is so overwhelming.

Although in your eight years working at the BAU, you have seen the most horrendous things one human being can do to another, from time to time, some cases can still paralyze you.

Like now.

As you look around, you can only think of the terrible minutes those who lived in this home must have gone through when the unsub forced its way in.

But something snaps you out of your stupor, and it's not Hotch's voice shouting in your ear; it's the sound of sobs.

The sobs of a child.

You take off your earpiece to get a better notion of where the sound is coming from, and you notice that at the back of the room, there is a closet with its door closed.

You quickly run over there and open the door, only to find a little boy sitting on the floor, hugging his knees and with teary eyes. When he looks at you, you can see the shock and fear in his eyes. The little one must be four years old at most. It breaks your heart to see him like this, but it immediately makes you go into alert mode again. You holster your gun first so as not to scare the kid.

"Hey, sweetheart. It's okay. My name is (Y/N), and I'm a cop. Everything is okay. You're safe," you tell him with a reassuring voice and kind eyes while you crouch to get to his level.

His hazel orbs are glued to your form as he blinks a few times.

Before you can talk again, he launches to wrap his little arms around one of your legs. With an arm, you hug him back as you block his view of the room with your body. He doesn't need to see the same you did as you got there.

"I've got you, sweetheart. You're okay," you repeat him as you put on your earpiece again. "I'm in the master bedroom. No unsub, but I found the kid," you murmured into the com.

Yet crouched, you lean back to look at the boy. "I'm gonna get you out of here now, okay? But I need you to keep your eyes on me until we get outside. Can you do that for me?"

The kid nods timidly. Removing your FBI jacket, you take him in your arms, covering you both with it as you make your way out. A bunch of agents enter the room at the time, but you keep your eyes on the boy, using your peripheral vision to keep walking and not fall.

Spencer is waiting for you at the base of the stairs. Concern is visible on his face when he sees you coming down with a child. When you reach the first floor, you withdraw the jacket that covers both of you.

"Good job, honey," you say to the boy with a smile. And then you briefly exchange a knowing look with Spencer. He nods, and you continue your way out of the house with the kid in your arms.

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It turns out the child, named Elliot, is the son of the unsub's two recent victims. Unsub that you have been chasing all over DC for three days now.

You get confirmation of this information from Garcia by phone as the EMTs are checking Elliot in an ambulance parked outside the house where you found him.

It's still unclear what really happened inside. Still, it's likely Elliot's mom hid him in the closet before the unsub got upstairs. You don't know for sure because the little boy hasn't said a word to anyone yet.

And although it's heartbreaking, you know you have to make him talk about what he saw and heard.

Hotch, a few meters apart, beckons you to approach. 

"I'll be right back, okay?" You say to Elliot. But as you're about to step away from him, he starts crying and grabs your sleeve so you don't go. You look at your boss, confused as to what to do, and Hotch nods, showing you his cell phone, a sign that he'll text or call you so you don't have to leave Elliot's side.

A ping of your phone signals a text from Hotch.

'We need to know what he knows. You'll ride with him to the quarters. Spencer is going to drive you.'

You think it's reasonable due to the rapport it seems you already have with the boy.

"It's okay, Elliot. I'm not leaving you. But we need to go to another place now, okay? So we can be more comfortable. It's getting cold here," you point it out as the reason why you need to leave and not because he needs to be questioned. 

A faint 'okay' escape from the boy's lips, and it's the first word you hear him say. And a lump forms in your throat, acknowledging the vulnerability of that little human being.

From the corner of your eye, you see Spencer getting closer, presumably having talked to Hotch.

"Elliot, this is Spencer. He will drive us to a comfy place. He is a good friend and will take care of us," you announce.

"Hi, Elliot," Spencer says as he waves.

"Hi," the child murmurs as he waves back.

The ride to the station starts mostly quiet. You are in the back seat with little Elliot as Spencer drives. From time to time, he looks at you both from the rearview.

Spencer knows you are trying to come up with a strategy to talk to the child, so he takes the lead in doing the small talk to give you some insights.

"So, Elliot. Can I ask you a question?" Spencer starts, and the kid perks his head up and nods, with a 'yes' slipping from his lips.

"What is your favorite food?"

The boy pouts a bit while contemplating his response. "Pizza," he decides. "I like pizza."

"Pizza is cool," Spencer agrees. "Would you like some now? I can stop by and get one," Spencer offers.

"With ham?" Elliot quirks an eyebrow questioningly.

"If you like ham, then ham it is."

"I like ham and tomatoes," he adds. Spencer smiles.

"Did you know pizza with ham and tomatoes is (Y/N) 's favorite?" Elliot's gaze turns to you, asking for confirmation. You nod, backing Spencer's statement. A timid smile crosses Elliot's face, and you could have melted right then and there.

Spencer continues asking the boy little questions; that's how you know he likes airplanes, his favorite color is green, and he prefers Hulk over Ironman.

At the BAU, you head with Elliot to one of the meeting rooms—the most little and cozy so that the boy could settle in a less intimidating environment. Spencer follows you back, stopping by to grab from Garcia the pizza box and drinks he asked her for earlier.

"Here it is. Pizza with ham and tomatoes. I got some drinks, too," Spencer announces, placing everything on the table. He knows you have to talk to Elliot about what happened in the house, so he suspects you need privacy with the kid. He stops at the door and looks at you. You stand to approach him while Elliot is occupied with a slice of pizza.

He grabs your hand and, after kissing it lovingly, gives it a reassuring squeeze.

"You're doing good. It's for the better. He trusts you. We need to catch the guy."

It's just what you need to hear. You're still unsure about the whole situation, and Spencer, as always, can see it. Your husband of two years can read you like a book, and it's not because of his profile skills. You both have been through a lot together in the years of working together, being friends at first and then as a couple.

You nod, and Spencer kisses you on the cheek before letting you alone with Elliot.

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It's shocking the wretched details that a 4-year-old's mind can retain and still see the world innocently. In some way, you're grateful Elliot can't understand everything that's happening around him.

You pass the information he gives you on to the team to improve the profile and get better clues about how to catch the guy. Spencer was right; Elliot trusts you, and that's why you feel responsible for his well-being. After tiring hours, he falls asleep on the couch, where you tuck him in and watch him sleep.

Spencer peaks into the room. He wants to talk with you.

You leave the little one sleeping while you go out and leave the door half open.

"You need a break. You hadn't eaten or slept in hours."

"I'm okay," you say flatly. Spencer raises an eyebrow. "I can't leave him, Spence. You know that."

"Baby, I know you're worried for him, but you need to take care of yourself too. I can stay with him for a couple of hours."

You know Spencer is right, but you don't want to admit it. Instead, you try to change the subject.

"Did Garcia locate any relatives?"

Spencer sighs. He knows the answer to your question, and it's not a good one.

"There is literally no one in his family except those who were in the house: his parents and an aunt. There is a distant cousin, but she lives in Sweden, and she doesn't even know his existence. And even if she wanted, she could not do the adoption procedures because she lost her American nationality."

That means Elliot will fall into the system, waiting for someone to adopt him. You don't even know how to respond to the news. They are devastating and break your heart.

Spencer looks at you with concern.

"Are you okay?" your husband cautiously asks, although he knows the answer from the look you return to him. It's a look that says, 'I'm not okay, and there is nothing I or you can do about it right now.'

In silence, he envelops you in a tight embrace that you reciprocate, hiding your face in his chest.

"I'm sorry," you mumble after some minutes. Spencer leans back to look at you.

"Why are you saying sorry?"

"Because I should be working my ass right now to catch the son of the bitch who did that to his parents," you pause to control the anger that starts bubbling inside of you. "Instead of being a mess and useless here."

Spencer cups your cheeks so you can look at him.

"Hey, don't say that. You are doing even more than it is expected from our job here. You are the only one Elliot has talked to about what happened, and it has given us solid leads. Beyond that, you are helping him, caring about him, and being by his side in this horrible time."

"It's so unfair, Spencer."

He knows what you are talking about and nods in agreement. You continue talking.

"And I know there are so many other children that have to go through something as horrible as this, and they, too, have no one to take care of them. But with Elliot, I - God, I don't know why it feels different with him. The mere idea of him in the system makes me sick."

Spencer feels his chest tight, but he doesn't want to be vulnerable when you're the one who needs to be comforted. He pulls your body towards him again, holding you tight.

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A whole two days have passed, and after much insistence and even convincing Elliot to tell you not to feel bad about leaving him for a few hours, Spencer gets you to take a break. So you can take a shower, eat and sleep.

The rest of the team works full-time and around the clock to catch the unsub. With the new clues you had him identify, it was only a matter of hours before they could finally get him.

Spencer is with Elliot while he colors with crayons. On the sheet, he is painting the sky blue.

"Do you know why the sky is blue?" Elliot asks Spencer, whose lips quirked up in a smile.

"Well. It's because of something called the scattering of sunlight by the atmosphere." Elliot's eyes widen in confusion.

"Scattering of sunlight? What's that?"

"It's like when you bounce a ball off a wall, but with sunlight and tiny air particles."

Elliot giggles, picturing what Spencer just said.

"So the sun is playing ball with the sky?"

Spencer laughs, amused by the kid's imagination.

"Haha. Well, sort of. You could say that."

An excited Elliot decides what he wants to do next.

"I wanna play ball with the sun too! Can we?" 

Spencer raises an eyebrow, contemplating his response.

"Maybe not with the sun directly, but we can definitely play ball later. How about that?"

"Yes! Can I get my red ball? It's my favorite!" Elliot chirps and Spencer's heart swells.

"Sounds like a plan, buddy."

Spencer's answer seems to satisfy Elliot, who continues coloring.

He doesn't have the heart to tell the kid that maybe he will have to leave soon once a child service professional gets assigned to his case.

After a while, Elliot finishes his drawing and passes it to Spencer, who examines it curiously.

In it, there is something that resembles a woman holding hands with a child. Next to it is a sketch of what appears to be a tall man, and in the blue sky, two winged figures.

Spencer asks him who they are, pointing to the drawing.

"She's (Y/N)," Elliot points to the woman holding hands with the child.

"That's me after she found me," he explains, putting his finger over the drawn kid. "That's you," he continues, indicating to the tall man.

"I look really good here," Spencer jokes. "And these? Spencer now points to the figures in the sky."

"Mom and Dad," Elliot says, and Spencer's breath hitches in his throat. "They are in heaven now and look after me. They sent (Y/N). Mom told me."

Spencer doesn't know how to respond to that, although he's curious about the last thing he said.

"What did your mom tell you?"

"When she left me in the closet. She told me I was going to be fine. That good people would find me and take care of me. And (Y/N) found me. She's good people."

Spencer's heart protrudes with pride and love as he sees how the boy recognizes you as a good person and seems to appreciate you much more than he thought.

"She is," Spencer concedes, with a little tremble in his voice.

"You like her?"

Spencer's cheeks blush. Even a 4-year-old can catch how hooked he is for you.

"What makes you think so?"

"You look at her like dad looks to mom. And my mom told me when people look like that is because they like each other."

"You're a very clever boy, Elliot. And you're right. I like her. We are married, actually. Do you know what is that?"

The kid nods, pointing to the gold band adorning Spencer's ring finger.

"Exactly."

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After a few hours, you return to the BAU and find Elliot asleep in Spencer's arms, who is lying on the office couch.

A sad smile crosses your face. On the one hand, the image triggers so much sweetness, seeing your husband, the love of your life, taking care of a little one who needs so much love and care. But on the other hand, the certainty that there is nothing you can do to change the destiny of that little boy who, at such a young age, has already experienced such terrible things.

You are so absorbed in the image that you don't hear Garcia until she is next to you.

"This pair hasn't wasted any time. Elliot colored for a long time while he asked Spencer everything he could think of. Of course, Boy Wonder was fascinated to answer all his questions. Afterward, they gave a tour of the floor; they even ran through the hallways. They even went to play football in the parking lot. That's why they are both exhausted."

"My husband running through the hallways and playing football? Who would have thought," You joke. Garcia nods, smiling and placing a hand on your shoulder.

"How do you feel?" She also realizes how difficult this case has been for you.

"More rested, although until this is over, I don't know how I'll really deal with this."

You wouldn't have to wait long to get to that point. Just as the social worker comes to check Elliot's case and, inevitably, takes him away, Garcia gets a call from Hotch saying they have the unsub in custody.

Everything happens too fast to process, and the only thing you manage to do is sit next to Elliot while Spencer talks to Nancy, the social worker, and tells her the details of the case. The kid is awake now and telling you everything about his afternoon with Spencer.

When Nancy and Spencer peek in the door, you know what it's about. Turning to Elliot, you talk to him softly.

"Sweetheart, this is Nancy. She wants to ask you some questions. Is that okay with you?" you probe. The kid lifts his gaze to the woman at the door and frowns.

"About mommy and daddy?"

He's too smart and perceptive for his own good, you tell yourself.

"A few, yes. But you can say only what you are comfortable with, okay?"

Elliot does not look very convinced.

"Can you stay?"

Your eyes soften as you exchange a knowing look with Spencer.

"I'm sorry, dear, but I can't."

"And Spencer can stay?"

"I can't either. I'm sorry, buddy. But we promise we are going to be right outside," Spencer affirms.

Elliot reluctantly agrees, and you leave him with Nancy. Once you're out of their sight, you feel tears begin to roll down your cheeks. You turn to look at Spencer, and you see his glassy eyes, too.

He takes your hand. "Let's talk in a more private place," he tells you, entering another of the offices nearby.

Closing the door, you give free rein to your emotions and begin to sob. Spencer hugs you tight, and he cries with you. You two know you need to hold each other up right now.

When you feel you have released some of the tension, you both separate from your embrace and sit in chairs adjacent to each other. Spencer holds your hand.

You still can't believe the little boy is going to get into the system. You bite your lip in pure frustration.

"I know," Spencer says. "I don't like the idea either, but someone has to take care of him. More so now that the case is closed."

"Does the bastard even understand the damage he has caused?"

It is a rhetorical question because even if the answer were positive, it does not change the fate of little Elliot in any way.

Spencer is affected, too. During the time they spent together, he became fond of Elliot and stole his heart in the same way he did with you.

To be honest, in the last few hours, Spencer has been mulling over an idea, but he needs to talk to you first. Although he already guesses what your position could be in the matter.

"Maybe we can do something," Spencer muses, and you look at him baffled.

"We do?" you question. Spencer nods, smiling at you.

You are trying to read your husband, but his warm smile and understanding eyes won't let you anticipate what he will say to you.

With a hand stroking your cheek, he spoke next.

"Well, if you ask me, Elliot Reid has a nice ring to it."

Your eyes widen at his words.

"What? Are you saying that we- Spencer, you are suggesting that we -"

It's not that it hasn't crossed your mind. But you didn't think it was something Spencer might have considered. Although thinking about it and knowing your husband, his heart and kindness have no limits.

"We can do it. I mean, it's not going to be easy, but we could try. I think Elliot is worth it the effort."

For a moment, you're at a loss for words. Shaking your head, you are debating the idea.

"Spencer, if you only are thinking of doing this for me, it's not fair."

This time, he shakes his head before cupping your cheeks with both hands.

"Hey. If I'm suggesting the idea, it is for all of us. Elliot needs who can take care of him. And we talked about having kids a while ago, remember?"

It's true. Before getting married, you talked about it and agreed it was something you both wanted, but not yet. After two years of marriage, you had not discussed the topic again because it was tacit that you both wanted it eventually.

"Yeah, but what we talked about was me getting pregnant. This is different."

Spencer chuckles. You're right about that. But for him, it doesn't change his mind about it.

"The method? Yes. But the outcome is the same. A family. Our family."

"Are you serious about this?" You ask him, locking eyes with him as you hold his hands, pulling them out of your face.

"Absolutely," Spencer replies right away. "Is this something you want too? It won't be easy, though. There will be a lot of paperwork and interviews, and we'll have to make adjustments to our routines. And if everything goes well, we could move to a bigger house, in a neighborhood with good schools. I could lower my workload here and start teaching," he rambles, and you start giggling out of nervousness and excitement.

"I want to try this. And there is no other person more perfect than you, with whom I want to try it. I love you, Spencer Reid."

"And I love you, (Y/N) Reid."

A tender kiss seals the moment, and you're sure you've never felt so confident about doing something like this. Or at least try.

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Spencer was right. 

It took time and work. 

Months passed before you got the news that you could actually adopt Elliot.

However, while the process was happening, you became Elliot's temporary home.

If Hotch did something to make that happen, nobody mentioned it.

With periodic visits from the social worker, you showed how well cared for he was and how good he adapted to your family.

You stopped working at the BAU and started teaching. Something Spencer had suggested for him, but you decided to give it a try first.

And you never have regretted your decision.

Elliot is now part of your family. The boy you found scared inside a closet can now smile again and feel safe with you and Spencer next to him.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Heart sweater | B.B

Your daughter got a present for his daddy and Bucky isn’t afraid to show everyone what his little girl got for him.

Pairing: Mob!Dad!Husband!Bucky Barnes x Mom!Wife!Reader

Wordcount: 2.033 Words

Warnings: none, just lots of fluff

Authors Note: I couldn’t help myself. This sweater is just so adorable and imagine Bucky’s little girl getting it for him. So yes, soft spot, feeling soft right now. Hope you enjoy!

Events: Winds of autumn challenge | Candy corn 🍬 a sweet surprise, Balance ⚖️ as the equinox approaches, the day and night balance out. Write about finding peace | @the-slumberparty

Seasonal Delights Bingo: fall vibes | Row One-One | soft kisses | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Fairytale Bingo | Row One-Three | Goddess of marriage | @fairytalebingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

“Daddyyyy! We gots you a present!" A childish voice echoes through the hallway of the building. Your and your little — big — families home. Others may say that you, Bucky, and your daughter are family, but there are so many more; they aren’t from the same blood but with the same big hearts.

Bucky’s men, who not only needed to earn his trust but also needed to earn their place in the family, are more than just his men. They are Bucky’s friends, your friends, and your daughter's uncles. None of them would let anything happen to you or the little girl — not just because Bucky told them to take care, but because you’re a family.

Your little daughter runs further through the hallway until she finally reaches her dad's office door. The second floor of the building is just an office — for Bucky and his men. And since he had an important meeting, he suggested that you could go out with her to get some new toys and clothes.

Of course, your little baby girl didn’t go to the toy store first. She loves it, but you’re shopping? She has to get a present for her daddy. She kind of gives herself a treat after finding the perfect present for Bucky — and then she uses all the money she can to get a lot of toys and stuff for herself.

You watch the toddler with amused eyes whenever you’re shopping without Bucky. Mostly Steve comes with you, keeping the two of you safe and just giving you a helping hand so you don’t have to carry all of these bags yourself.

“Sweetheart,” you chuckle while she already jumps to reach the handle and almost falls into her dad's office. You laugh softly, shaking your head — she is just as stubborn as her daddy when it comes to letting someone help or listen once they get excited.

Bucky’s head shoots up the moment the door swings open. He smiles at his little girl, then his eyes wander further toward you. The ocean blue orbs glistening when his lips curl up into a soft smile — one he reserves only for you and your little girl.

“Take care, my sweet little plum. Don’t want ya to get hurt, do we?” He asks, his voice soft but still a bit firm, so the little girl will listen to him. Her eyes — which are just as blue as Bucky’s — roam over her daddy’s body, from his legs up to his face, before she smirks with the widest grin ever.

“We gots you something’, daddy!” She says, excitedly. Bucky crouches down, resting his arms on his knees while he waits for his little girl to continue talking. “Mommy! Daddy waits fo’ you!”

You chuckle, looking for the bag in your hand she wants to have before placing all the others down and handing her the one she put her daddy’s present into. Bucky’s eyes move toward you; without any words, he makes sure you’re okay and that you can be without a kiss for a few more minutes while he focuses on his baby girl.

Once he’s sure you’re fine — after you settle down on the couch in his office and sigh softly — he mouths, ‘I love you, my pretty girl’ to you. And oh damn, you know why you fell in love with that man. He may be a big, feared mafia boss, but around you he is the sweetest, most loving, caring, and perfect husband — and father for your daughter — you could have wished for.

Bucky may be mad because of work sometimes; he may be annoyed, but he never lets it out on you. He would rather punch himself than make you feel like he doesn’t appreciate you or that you’re a burden for him. For your husband, you’re the most precious woman, and he will do everything to keep you safe and loved. He does the same for your little girl.

Luckily, Bucky discovered immediately that whenever he's mad, he just needs you, and everything is perfect. Preferably when he can keep you on his lap. His arms are tightly wrapped around your waist and pull you as close as possible while he presses his face into your chest. You will run your fingers through his hair, and he knows he’s safe — no reason for anger or annoyance, just love and affection, so he calms down without needing anything but you.

“So what do you have for me, my little plum?” Bucky asks, looking with amusement and curiosity at the little girl in front of him. She giggles, her tiny hands grasping his cheeks, and she runs her small fingers over his stubbles.

“Sc’atchy,” she mumbles and squeezes his cheeks together. Bucky lets out a low chuckle, letting her play with his scratchy stubbles. He knows how much his sweet little girl likes his stubbles; she is just like her mommy loving his metal arm and his stubbles — even though you have other intentions when it comes to his metal arm or his stubbles. But those are secrets that stay in the bedroom.

“Sweetheart, you wanted to show Daddy what you got for him,” you remind her when you notice that she got lost in her little game to play with her daddies cheek. But she was so excited to get him his present, plus you know that Bucky’s curious as well.

She removes her small hands and grasps the paper bag again, opening it before hiding her face almost inside of it. You would never leave her with a bag without anyone else around her, but as long as you and Bucky are there, you don’t feel scared if she puts her head slightly into it to tease her daddy a bit.

“Yeah, my little plum. What do you got Daddy, huh?” He asks, bringing his big hands to her small sides to poke his fingers into her soft flesh. The little girl laughs, throwing her head back while she wiggles in his grip.

She pulls her tiny hands out of the bag and holds a big, white sweater with hearts on it in front of her. Her smile grows and her eyes sparkle as she shows it to Bucky. And the big, most feared mafia boss has the sweetest expression on his face.

His eyes shine, and it looks like the sun is brightening them. His smile reaches almost his ears as he stares at the fabric in his daughter's hands. Bucky’s eyes wander to you for a second, then back to his little girl.

“Thank you, my little plum,” he coos, taking the sweater out of her hands to admire it a moment longer. Your daughter watches Bucky intensely — the same intense stare Bucky has if he wants to find out how you think about something. “You want me to take it on right now?”

She nods, letting herself fall backward into her butt while she holds his gaze. He nods, smirking softly. Bucky leans forward, his big hand placed at the back of her head, and he brings her closer to press his plump lips against her forehead.

“Then I will do that,” he says, getting up from the stop he was kneeling. His eyes land on you, and before he leaves the room to change into the new sweater, he makes his way over to you.

He towers over you, both of his hands finding their way to your thighs, and he leans closer. His lips almost brush yours when he grins at you. “She chose the sweater all by herself, but you allowed her to buy it, didn’t you?”

You shiver under his intense stare and his rough voice. “S-she’s just really convincing. I know you said you don’t want presents, but I guess— I guess she got that from you,” you giggle and Lena closer to chase his lips for a soft kiss. Bucky chuckles, kissing you once again before he pushes himself up and makes his way out of the room to change into the sweater you and your daughter got him.

Your daughter gets one of her new toys out of the bag and shows it to you. It’s not like you don’t know what she bought, but she loves to show you and explain everything about it anyway.

“Mommy, wants book or wants dolly?” She asks, lifting her small arms and holding both up to let you decide which of these she should show and explain to you.

“Do you want me to tell you more about the book you got?” You ask. She nods and puts the doll down, walking with the book in her hands toward you. The little girl places the book on the couch next to you, her small fingers digging into your thighs, and she tries to push herself up onto the couch. “Do you want me to help you, sweetheart?”

“Nuuu, ‘m big girl!” She nods, underlining her words. You chuckle; let her climb up without help. Your hand is still behind her back just in case she falls backwards, but she doesn’t.

Once she is on top and next to you, she wiggles a bit and takes the book, placing it in your lap. She just wants to explain why she got the book, who’s on the cover, and what she knows about her favorite series — the book is about it — when Bucky walks back into the room.

Her eyes widen, and she giggles as she sees her big daddy in this pretty sweater she got him. You smile softly at him, reaching your hands out for him to come closer. “You’re pretty, Bucky,” you say and run your fingers over the back of his flash hand, then over the fabric of the sweater.

“Didn’t know I would look that good in that sweater,” he jokes. Stroking one of his hands over the fabric. And he really does look adorable with his middle long hair, his broad chest, and his big arms — the feared mafia boss — wearing a sweater with a lot of hearts on it because his sweet little plum got it just for him. “So, my little plum, what do you think?”

Bucky gets down on his knees in front of the couch, looking at the little girl. Her ocean blue eyes roam over him a little longer before she giggles. “Looks pwetty, daddy! Now we can go back to work!”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I thought I could take out my girls for dinner.” Bucky tilts his head. His fleshy hand holds yours tightly while he watches the little girl, considering if she wants to work or prefers to have dinner with the two of you.

“Do we gets my favorite food?” She asks, taking her book and making grabby hands, waiting for Bucky to pick her up. He nods, wrapping his arms around her to lift her onto his waist before he holds a hand out for you to grasp and let him pull you up.

Bucky doesn’t care that people could look weird at him for wearing a sweater with hearts on it. His sweet girl got it for him, and he knows that no one will disrespect him — not even when he looks like a sweet puppy with an adorable sweater.

“You know, babydoll,” Bucky says, looking at you as he wraps his free hand around your waist to pull you into his side. His nose brushes over your cheek until his lips press against your temple. “Thank you for letting out sweet plum to buy me such a pretty sweater. Now I’m wearing your necklace, our wedding band, and my little girl's sweater. I love you, my babydoll, pretty momma.”

Bucky’s voice is low, and he smirks against your skin as you shiver. You knew he would love the sweater — he loves everything you or your daughter get him. “I love you too, Buck,” you mumble before you make your way to the restaurant — letting Bucky show his sweater around to let everyone see how proud he is to have his family, how much he loves you and his little plum, and how much he appreciates you and your love.

Taglist -> @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @im-alestan @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo @fanfictionreaderfan @iris-xoxo-juhu @holylulusworld @bucks-babe @whatever-lmaoo @thevillainswhore

[trulyumai]

Being Away From Thou

Pairing: Messmer x Reader

Request: hiii! could i request maybe protective messmer or like someone went too far with his wife? Love ur works have a grt day!!

Warnings: Blood, Violence

Synopsis: While Messmer is away, an intruder invades his keep.

A/N: Hello everyone! I apologize for no updates last week, I was so sick, but my updates shall be coming regularly now. Thank you so much for the support, comments, re-blogs!

Enjoy!

The woodlands burned with fervor and ashen contempt. On and on, Messmers flames bit against the wind, carrying it further and more desperately towards civilization; towards innocent people led by the golden vows. 

The man himself did nothing but watch as the orange twists of flame embedded itself against his orbs, made home in the reddened iris’. 

With a slumped form the man held a crease between his brow. It was getting late, he couldn’t imagine how worried his little wife would be. 

So, with long pale fingers wrapped around his dutiful spear, he followed the muddy roads home. 

His back lit up against the blinking sky; the stars were swallowed whole with blackened ash and gray bubbles of smoke.

Fall was coming to an end and the cold weather made his legs stiff. It was much harder to leave a bed nestled in furs— with his darling girl molded against his form shivering pathetically. 

His arms would lay about her waist, rubbing soothingly to ease out each shiver that was let out. 

He could imagine now— her little frame draping across his. 

So soft, so desperate, so—

“Gods.” He cursed. 

His devotion held no bounds, even miles away the red knight could be so enamored with her. 

To want her. 

To need her. 

Messmer picked up his pace, it was getting too uncomfortable being so far away from such a woman. 

His woman. 

-

The girl hummed, her fingers found themselves busy amongst the kitchen. 

She chopped, she seasoned, she boiled. 

Lost in her tune, the weather was ceaselessly beating against the window pane. Droplets of water cascaded down upon the glass, blocking her line of sight towards the back of the house. 

Dusting her fingers across the cooked meat she tusked. 

“Not yet,” with a quick move of the hand the meat was placed back upon the rack; cooking slowly across the stove. 

All of a sudden, a bang sounded. It echoed through the little house and made the girl drop a wooden bowl that laid upon her delicate hands. 

Letting out a shriek the bowl rolled past her ankle, bumping into the lower cabinets where it splayed carelessly out. 

“H-hello?” She breathed quick— too nervous to let out a deep and guttural one. 

Turning towards the living space she was met with silence. The fire had burnt out, little sizzles could be heard from its desperate attempt to stay lit. 

The rain pelted against the walls— loud and harsh. 

Gulping, she made sure the bolt upon the door was in place, remembering Messmers words before his departure. 

“The door, darling. You mustn’t forget the latch. Double, triple check its placement upon the—“

She did nothing but stare up at him with lost, scared eyes. 

She hated to see him leave, especially so soon after his last mission. Little hands gripped harder onto the man’s forearm, nearly doubling the size and width of her own. 

“Wife,” the knight chastised.

“Is thou even listening?” 

“Yes,” her eyes rolled back playfully. 

“Check the door. I heard you, dear husband.” 

Two fingers found their way below her chin, tilting it upwards with a careful pressure. 

“I will be back in two days time, the capital has asked for reinforcements; thou will remain here. Safe.” His nails traced across her jawline, a shiver ran across the girl's spine. 

“I’ll miss you,” leaning into the man’s embrace she allowed her eyes to close. Her lashes fluttered with how warm the man’s palm laid. 

Messmer chuckled, it was deep— comforting. 

“I know, sweet girl.” Ignoring how the strings of his heart pulled at such an image, he removed his hand. 

If he stayed any longer— there would be no going to the useless capital. His mother would have his head, surely.

He could have said how much he’d miss her, how he loathes to leave her presence. 

Mention that he needed to kiss her frame every couple minutes or an itch would invade his mind. 

But he didn’t. 

He simply turned away, faced towards the erdflowers displayed upon their walkway. 

“Lock the door.” His armor clattered with each step he took, swaying with good measure. Not tearing her eyes off the tall knight she smiled.

“I love you!” She called out 

The man’s steps faltered. His head dipped with shame before he decided to look over one last time. 

“And I you,” turning his head one yellow iris glanced upon her form, before disappearing into the trees. 

- 

That was two nights ago. She had been so anxious waiting, it nearly slipped her mind. 

She found little jobs here and there to occupy the time. 

Clean the floors, dust the walkway, water the plants that littered about the garden. 

Her hands kept busy so her mind could rest. It hadn’t even occurred that Messmer was late. 

Backing up from the door, her back bumped into an object- a person? 

Dirtied hands rose to cover her mouth, a muffled cry pressed against the trespasser. 

“Shhh, shh girl.” The man bent down, saffron colored teeth grazed her ear and the smell of something rotten hit her senses. 

“The man of the keep. Where is he?” The voice was gruff, she tried to place it- to remember who could hold such a hostile tone but nothing came. Her form shook as the grip tightened around her face, squeezing at her cheeks. After nothing but silence, one hand came around to press itself onto her stomach. 

“Oi love, don’t make me hurt you,” the barbarian teased, his lips still on the shell of her ear. 

“Mmmh- mm!”

“What was- oh… my apologies lovely,” laughing to himself the hand was removed from the womans mouth, a gasp of air was taken almost immediately. 

“He's, he’s not here.” Grabbing at her cheeks she rubbed them, soothingly trying to ease the sore red spots easing their way onto her skin. 

“You're lying.” He spat, already flexing his other hand that leered against the wall. 

“I'm not!”

The hand tightened around her stomach, with an unexpected shove the girl crashed onto the wood beneath her. Skin blisters around each knee in response, and her chin bled lightly against the scratchy surface.

The barbarian lay on top of her now, with an arm holding each of hers. The other hand began flexing in the hair of her head, pulling it back with a smug grin. 

“Lie again.”

Scowling against the pressure her eyes squeezed shut. 

Think, think, think!

Don't let him take you, don't let him- 

A jingle rang out. All heads snapped towards the front door, where the knob jiggled and wobbled against a strength. 

Not liking the newfound company, the tyrant stood quick, and with a pull began to drag the woman towards the back garden.

Blood from her chin seeped out imminently, it left a trail of maroon to be displayed against the surrounding brown.

“Stop!” Her nails dug into the ground, cracking against the material roughly. 

“Shut it!” Tugging harder he kicked the woman who began to resist, she cried out in response.

Loud, too loud.

The man glanced up, his eyes widened with fear and static crawled up his legs and arms. 

The lock lay busted, hanging on by a thread. It swung loudly, creaked with each shift it took. 

Reddened armor bursted across his vision, and he noticed, with much disappointment, that the man of the keep was a knight. 

The Flame Knight. 

“I-I,

“An intruder?” Messmer questioned, although it sounded more so like a statement.  His head tilted slightly towards the opposing man's direction. His gaze lowered, to see his little woman stare back at him. 

The blood was noticed first, then the marks. 

Until finally, his eyes squinted at the filthy hands lying about her like a casual occurrence. 

Messmers hands gripped tightly upon his spear, until blue veins popped out in rage, until the jagged metal dug into his skin. 

“Wife,” The flame called out. 

The girl in response looked upon him, shame embedded into her features. 

“Look away.”

And so she did. Her arms covered her ears pathetically to drown out the screaming, the crying that only seemed to get louder with each gushing blow. 

She heard the blood hit the ground, like spilling a mug of honeydew, it was heavy, unpleasant. 

Until finally, silence. 

It was only moments later that a light touch skirted across her back. Craning her head up, she saw her husband; on his knees in front of her. He looked angry, hateful even.  

Her bottom lip wobbled as tears spewed from her lashes, lazily adorning her cheeks and plopping onto her already ruined nightgown. 

The knight did not hesitate to lean over and grab her, shoving the woman onto his lap carefully before bumping his nose on her neck. 

Inhaling, the man could once again feel himself coming down for the second time that night. The anger slowly dissipated with each breath of honey and flowers that clung to his wifes skin.

“Welcome home, my love,” she whispered, voice weak and tired from the prior endeavors. Already she wanted bed, to rest until her husband kissed each bruise away. 

Messmer hummed and stood with the smaller woman in his grasp, already on his way to rest for the night. 

Not bothering to step over the body littering his living room his boot collided with a limb, it squelched with the action. 

With now bloody strides, Messmer took his time up the stairs, with each step closer to the bedroom his head ducked down, laying a kiss upon the girl's forehead. 

Already, she began to forget about the trespasser, the blood that lay staining the floorboards. 

For each kiss was so warm- so loving, it was hard to think of anything else.

[missriyochuchi]

The Torchbearer and the Flagbearer

Summary: The Torchbearer and the Flagbearer meet in the Jardin des Tuileries after the Opening Ceremony and commiserate about the Olympic Games.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Established relationship. Mentions of death.

Notes: I imagined these two like otherworldly beings blessing the games, what with the Olympics being invented by ancient Greeks as a partly religious event. As such, I would have preferred to keep them gender neutral, but because I’m writing this in a pinch and want to be able to distinguish between them without constantly using their names, I opted for gendered pronouns. But nothing about their physical descriptions are particularly gendered; I’m just leaning on the old linguistic quirk lol Also, how tf is there no video of the Flagbearer!? I wanted to gif her/their entrance but couldn’t find a damn thing! She/They deserves more love!

Read on AO3 - Part 2 - Part 3

Darkness cloaks the Jardin des Tuileries. Even the cauldron floating above its center offers little illumination on the ground. Shadows play along the perimeter, tourists passing in the midnight hour, their idle conversations lost to the humid air. The soft patter of rain echoes across the masonry scattered throughout the empty park. Only the occasional creak of metallic plates and restless hoofbeats betray the garden’s solitary visitors.

The Flagbearer looks up at the orange orb in the sky. She marvels at the city’s ingenuity. Decades of oil and gas have finally given way to an electric fire. Only with such technological advancements could engineers even dream of safely flying the eternal flame above the City of Lights. If only the future was as assuredly bright, the Flagbearer thinks. Her gaze drifts back down to the darkness below, the surrounding chill creeping back into her senses. Her horse stirs beneath her and jostles her mind back to the present.

“Easy, Zeus,” she murmurs as she presses her legs to the animal’s sides in an attempt to soothe both their anxieties. “Patience.”

No Olympic Games are ever truly free of political problems, an inevitability of any gathering between disparate peoples, but they weigh heavier on the Flagbearer’s mind now more than ever. Her part in the Opening Ceremony is small but significant, and though she spends less time among the crowds than her eternal counterpart, she catches enough to gauge that tensions are higher than ever before. The darkness of the night seems to encroach and bleed into the darkness in her mind as she ponders human history and her role in it. Before her resolve could lurch under the gravity of her thoughts, the light crunch of gravel announces his arrival.

“You are late,” the Flagbearer intones harshly. She steers her steed to turn around and face the approaching footsteps.

Enough ambient light creeps across the park to distinguish the Torchbearer’s silhouette, catching on the gauzy pieces of his attire bobbing in the breeze. His stride is sure, his stature straight, betraying neither weariness nor arrogance. Only a few meters away, he shrugs and raises his palms out at his sides, teasing, “I did not have a ride.”

The Flagbearer is unmoved but in no mood to quarrel. “How are you, my love?” Her voice floats soft and light through the misty drizzle.

“Exhausted.” His shoulders slump fractionally, perceptible only to his eternal flame facing him. “And you?”

“Concerned.”

The Torchbearer reaches for the horse’s muzzle and runs a familiar hand along his nose. “I hope you are not as troubled as your rider, mon joli cheval.” Zeus bows his long head and huffs in response. His palm runs along the animal’s left flank, lifting once he reaches the Flagbearer’s side. He extends both hands to her gloved ones and helps her to the ground.

“What ails my sweet?” He pinches her chin.

She hums and takes one of his hands in both of hers, squeezing hard enough to convey her worry. “In all our years shepherding these games, did you ever know the atmosphere to be this—”

“I know. The world is—”

“Restless.”

“Yes, and—”

“Not at peace.”

“Never has been, my love.”

“I do not remember it ever being this—”

“Your worries are not unfounded, cherie, but you must redirect your attention elsewhere.”

They circle the base beneath the cauldron, hand in hand. Zeus follows close behind, his reins tied to the saddle. While the nightlife bustles beyond the park’s pocket of silence, the few security guards on duty watch the hooded figures from a distance.

Event organizers had explicitly and numerously instructed personnel not to approach or engage with the Torchbearer and Flagbearer. They were both host and blessing to the festivities, and decades of tradition dictated that a respectful, neutral distance be maintained between the host nation and the two Olympic guardians so that there would be no suspicion of impropriety or favoritism during competition.

The Flagbearer recoils, incredulous. “How can you be so indifferent to the violence and rhetoric—”

“I am surprised that between the two of us, you, in your glittering armor, are the first to lose hope and declare defeat.”

“I have not!” She stops them in their orbit and shoves his hand back to his side.

The Torchbearer laughs. He crooks a finger under her chin and raises her gaze. She sighs and closes her eyes as the backs of his fingers graze her cheek. Her hands come up to open and press his palm to the side of her face, his pressure more than his warmth a soothing balm to her inner turmoil. Her voice is low and leaden when she continues.

“I merely wonder if the gods have not tasked us with an impossible mission.”

The Torchbearer falls silent as he contemplates the Flagbearer’s concerns. She did not interact with humans as much as he did, a natural consequence of their separate roles. While the Olympic torch exchanged hands with every kind of man and woman, the Olympic flag exchanged hands with a significantly select few. As a result, the Flagbearer’s opinion of humanity often leaned towards the optimistic while the Torchbearer’s leaned towards the pessimistic. He had come to know, better than she, the complexities of human nature, their heavenly highs and their hellish lows. They spent decades arguing about the tenuous balance. Now, as he watches his partner’s shoulders sag with the weight of the world, he finds himself despondent that she seems poised to concede to his viewpoint and knows it, knows that she lost this one important battle. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and guides their walk away from the cauldron.

“Plus vite, Plus haute, Plus fort.” The Torchbearer rattles off the Olympic motto.

“Citius, Altius, Fortius, my dear. Latin may be dead, but it is still your mother tongue.”

“‘Ensemble.’ C’est la partie importante. And that is precisely what they are doing and continue to do.”

“But for how long? We do not have a future if they do not, and my darling, I do not see—”

“We cannot predict the future any more than humans can. It is none of our concern. The gods will take care of us.”

“The gods have abandoned us, just as the humans have abandoned them.” The Flagbearer catches the ice in her voice and does her best to warm her vitriol. “We do not exist outside these games, my love. And if these games end, if the world can find no purpose to these communal competitions—”

Silence. The specter of death looms large in their periphery. Every Closing Ceremony marks the end of their days on Earth, a return to a darkness beyond darkness. And every two years, they are reborn and reimagined back into existence to inspire and perform and protect the Olympic Games. Despite the constancy of this cyclical event, the eternal guardians find humans increasingly less hospitable to the ideals they represent. What is sportsmanship to a world where even the rules of war no longer hold?

“Steel your heart as this city has steeled your form.” The Torchbearer steps close enough for the edge of his hood to kiss hers. “The next host cities have been decided, their venues under construction. We still have a future. There is no reason to despair.”

“For now.”

“For now.” He sighs at her obstinacy, but knows not to push further or risk wasting precious moments on a fruitless fight. “In the meantime, the games have begun, and we do not have much time together.”

A smirk plays beneath the Flagbearer’s hood. She perks up at her partner’s motives. “Sixteen days is not enough to spend with you.” She steps closer and brings her forehead to his. She squeezes his biceps, and he rubs her elbows in return. They exchange breaths for a moment of eternity.

“Come.” The Torchbearer takes her hands and swings her in circles. Their laughs echo as they near the horse. “Much of the city has changed since we were last here, and you will not see them if you continue to sulk beneath the cauldron.”

The Flagbearer mounts Zeus and extends an arm to help the Torchbearer take a seat behind her. He presses his front to her back, unbothered by her damp cape. He slides his arms along either side of her waist and rests his hands atop hers on the horn of the saddle. The horse ambles forward towards the city streets.

Buoyed by the Torchbearer’s embrace, the Flagbearer regains a sliver of her hope and optimism. “The Italians will call on us next. Perhaps we will meet a changed world by then.”

“We always do. I wonder what forms they have planned for us.”

“I quite like this form on you, my dear. The cut of your jacket complements you well.”

“As does this armor on you, mon amour.” His hands find the edge of her cuirass and sneak nimble fingers to the suit underneath.

She giggles at the light pressure below her ribcage. “I will miss hearing you speak this city’s language.”

The Torchbearer tightens his hold on the Flagbearer, impressing his being into hers. “You worry about community and forget that we are in the City of Love.”

“Paris is not the world, my dear.” They sway in sync as Zeus carries them towards the edge of the garden.

“Perhaps, but the Olympic Village is, or at least, as close an approximation as the humans are capable of producing. If it is unity you seek, we will surely find a certain kind—”

“You said you were exhausted.” Amusement lightens the Flagbearer’s tone, her heavy mind now fizzy with thoughts of the Torchbearer’s amorous intentions.

“Never enough to deter me from you.” He presses his chin to her shoulder, his words vibrating down the expanse of her armor. “Would you waste the energy of the players’ liaisons?”

Her hood whips to the side as he squeezes the unarmored flesh of her upper thigh. Before she can answer, he takes the reins and brings Zeus to a gallop towards the Olympic Village.

“No more talk,” he heaves with urgency. “I need you before the sun rises and our duties begin again.”

Footnotes:

mon joli cheval - my pretty horse cherie - dear Plus vite, Plus haute, Plus fort (French) / Citius, Altius, Fortius (Latin) - Faster, Higher, Stronger ‘Ensemble.’ C’est la partie importante. (French) - ‘Together.’ That is the important part. mon amour - my love

“The 100% electric flame burns no fuel. The ring of fire uses 40 LED spotlights to illuminate the cloud created by 200 high-pressure misting nozzles.” (source)

According to the engineers who built the mechanical horse, its name is Zeus.

[blogthebooklover]

Smite The Wicked/Into The Sunlight

Author's Note: This one shot is based on Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame. This is almost 7 pages long on my Google Doc, lol. I do have a fan art WIP of this scene, be on the lookout for that soon. This is also available on Wattpad and FFN. I do not own Planet of the Apes, or The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Noa burst through the door, smiling widely and feeling ecstatic, “We did it!  We beat them back, Mae!  Come, come, come and see.”  He was about to leave to see the victories again, and briefly turned his head to look over his shoulder.  Mae was lying unconscious on a bed, in a small dark room and she wasn’t moving.  Noa went down on all fours and hopped over to check on her.  “Mae, you are safe…now,” he said, nudging her arm carefully.  The female human still did not move.  Noa placed his hand on her forehead, and then stroked her temple with the backs of his fingers.  She felt cold to the touch, like from being outside too long in the winter or during a rainstorm in the spring and summer.

“Mae?” he asked softly, and then his golden jade eyes widened slightly, “oh no.”

The young chimp grabbed his canteen of water nestled along his hip, cradled the human’s head in his other hand, and brought it to her lips.  The water dripped down the sides of her mouth and cheeks.  Noa’s eyes widened this time in fear and shock.  He dropped his canteen, not caring about it spilling onto the floor and soaking into his fur.  “Oh n-no…,” he whispered, taking hold of her small hand in his, squeezing it as gently as he could.  

He felt tears well up in his eyes, as he gently wrapped the human female in his arms.  Burying his face in her neck, he let out soft sobs, his shoulders bobbing as he tried to hold back from sobbing and hooting too loudly.  

Behind him in the doorway, Anaya, Soona and his mother Dar glanced in when he entered to tell Mae the news.  They saw Noa bring his canteen up to Mae’s lips for some water, only for her not to take it at all.  The three apes glanced at each other in concern and sadness for the young ape and his human friend.  Soona embraced Dar, burying her head in the older ape’s shoulder.  Dar gently stroked the younger female’s head, keeping an eye on her son and feeling tears well in her own brown orbs.  Anaya reached out to pull the door shut to give Noa some privacy, and a chance to say goodbye to the Echo.

Noa cradled Mae’s unconscious body in his arms, gently stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers.  He had placed her head against his shoulder, gently brushing away strands of her hair from her face.  The young ape bit his bottom lip, as he tried his best not to hoot in sadness.  Noa was too far gone into his mourning to take notice of the door opening again.  Or the heavy footsteps coming up behind him.  He then felt someone’s hand on his shoulder, looming over him and his friend.

“Is she dead?” asked Proximus Caesar darkly.

“Because of you,” Noa accused weakly.  

“It was… my duty for…apes.”

“Duty?!  For apes?! ”

“In the name of Caesar,” the bonobo king huffed, “to keep apes strong.”  Noa shot the barest, most hurtful and hateful of glances over his shoulder at the bonobo.  “The true Caesar…wanted to live…in harmony with… humans,” the young ape argued weakly, putting an emphasis on the word true.  Proximus sighed audibly through his nostrils, before growling slowly, “I am the true Caesar.  My words…the apes follow.”

The bonobo king turned away from Noa, releasing the younger ape’s shoulder.  “Now, we are rid of the human girl.  We will find more…and make them…our slaves.  Better yet…we will kill them all…and this world will be ours.”

Noa had placed Mae back down on the bed, and laid her hands on top of each other over her stomach, and lightly patted them before standing up to face the bonobo.  “Kill…all humans?!  Caesar cared for humans…as well as apes.  And…there can be no world…without humans…without her,” the young ape interjected defeatedly, gesturing to the human girl behind him.  “Mae…made her choice…Noa,” Proximus said, glancing over his shoulder at the chimpanzee, “she died for humans…and humans are always selfish.  They do not…know how to…love.”

“‘Humans… do not know…how to love?’” Noa repeated before challenging Proximus, feeling his hackles rising along his neck and shoulders “and what…do you know of love?  Who do you love?!”  He suspected his golden jade eyes were wild with grief and anger, because he noticed the bonobo’s own brown eyes widened slightly and inhaled sharply.

“I…I love my kingdom,” Proximus for once in his life, stumbled on his words, “I tried to make you understand, Noa.  That humans are…wicked and weak.  To teach you…the ways of Caesar.  But I was wrong…you are also…weak.”  Noa curled his fingers into fists, and gave the bonobo the most deathly glare he could muster.  “No…you are the weak one…�� You are the wicked one…  ‘And the wicked shall not go unpunished!’”  The young ape repeating the words the bonobo used during one of his speeches.  

Proximus snarled at Noa before lunging forward to grab the chimp.  Noa was two steps ahead of him, bending at the waist and tackling the bonobo right through the open door.  The chimpanzee banged his fists into the bonobo’s face and chest, screeching so loud it rang through the air.  He simply did not care anymore, now that Mae laid dead in the room behind him.  

Proximus grunted as he kneed Noa in the abdomen and pushed him off.  The bonobo beat the younger one in the face and chest.  The chimp could feel blood, he couldn’t tell if it was his own or the older ape’s.  Noa grabbed Proximus by his shoulders, and headbutted the bonobo as hard as he could.

He stumbled off of the chimp, and Noa crawled away from the false king.  The young ape felt a hand wrap around his ankle, dragging him back to the bonobo.  Noa kicked Proximus in the face with his other foot, causing the bonobo to release his ankle.  The force from the kick was enough for the older ape to knock against the metal railing of the ship.  Proximus became disoriented when his head banged against it.

X.X.X.X.X.X.

Back in the small room, Mae stirred awake, blinking rapidly for her eyes to adjust in the forthcoming dawn.  She brought a hand to her face and head, checking for any signs of injury.  She turned her head to survey her surroundings, the young woman was in a small room and was lying down on a cot with a worn blanket underneath her.  There was a door to her right, and she could hear the sounds of apes fighting each other.  She gasped softly when she heard Noa screech in pain, and the other ape he was fighting was Proximus Caesar.  Mae heard the older ape’s head bang against the metal railing, and Noa coming into view in the doorway.

She called out weakly, reaching out for him, “Noa!”

The young chimp turned his head, his golden jade eyes glistened in surprise and unshed tears of happiness at her.  He hopped over to her on all fours, and crouched in front of her.  “Mae,” he exhaled, grabbing her outstretched hand and feeling relief that she was alive.  He gently picked her up in his strong arms, and she wrapped her own around his neck.  

As quickly as he could, Noa carried Mae out of the room and ventured further into the ship to find a place to hide.  Eventually, the chimp placed the girl onto his back, and climbed up into the rafters.  From their hiding spot, Noa could see Proximus had come out of his disoriented state and was searching for them.  The bonobo growled in frustration, sniffing the air for their scents, but the salt from the ocean was too thick to trace them.  The chimp stiffened when he noticed Proximus was right under them now.  He felt Mae tightened her grip slightly around his neck and chest.  

Then the bonobo glanced above into the rafters.

“Going somewhere?” he snarled in wicked delight, before ascending up to where they were.

           Noa told the girl to hang on as he climbed further away from the approaching bonobo.  The chimp swung from rafter to rafter, he felt Mae hold on as tightly as she could on his back.  They could hear Proximus along the rusted metal, prompting Noa to climb faster.  He could feel Mae losing her grip around his torso.  He had to hurry to find a safe place for them.  The young chimp found an opening to the deck of the ship, swung from a metal rafter, and pulled himself and Mae through it.

Mae let go of the ape at once, when she was safely on the deck.  He was about to join her when something grabbed him by the ankle, his eyes widening in surprise.  He was pulled back down into the opening, releasing a screech of fear as he disappeared.  “NOA!” Mae screamed, reaching out for his hand through the opening.

X.X.X.X.X.X.

Proximus threw Noa onto a rafter, the younger ape hitting his head against it.  The bonobo placed his foot on the chimp’s chest, slowly pressing down as he sneered, “I thought… you were like me, Noa.  I was wrong…”  Proximus leaned down further, pressing even more into Noa’s chest, causing the chimp to choke.  The young chimp could feel himself becoming lightheaded.

“Your heart is too…human!”

Noa growled at the bonobo, grabbing onto his ankle and using whatever strength he had left, pulled the older ape’s foot off his chest and tossed him to the side.  The bonobo grunted in pain when he hit the metal wall of the ship.  The young chimp pushed himself up, looking around for the way he took to get to the opening.  Proximus struggled to get up, feeling disoriented from the force.  The older ape pushed himself up, only to slip on a wet patch of dirt and grime on the rusted metal.

Proximus grabbed hold of the edge of the rafter, hanging on with whatever strength he had left.  The bonobo growled in frustration as he contemplated a way to get to the younger ape, and finish him off once and for all.  There was a loud creak in the metal, the wet spot had created an indentation in the rafter and then it snapped in half.  Proximus hooted loudly in fear as his half broke off and dangled in the air.  The bonobo screeched out for Noa to help him.

The young chimpanzee was halfway near the opening to the deck, when Proximus had called out to him.  The bonobo was dangling from half of the rusted rafter of the ship.  Noa dared to briefly look down at the bottom of the ship’s interior.  It was a very large and long fall from where he was, and where Proximus Caesar was still hanging on to the metal half.  The chimp made eye contact with the bonobo, the older ape reaching out his hand in desperation.

Noa growled in frustration at this predicament.  From the opening to the deck, he could hear Mae yell out for him.  He turned his head to look at her, the human female was halfway through the opening and reaching out her hand to his.  The chimpanzee gritted his front teeth together, contemplating whether to help Proximus, or grab the human female’s hand to safety.

There was another creak in the metal, and Noa quickly turned his head toward the sound.  The rafter half where Proximus was dangling from had moved again, this time away from the other side of the ship.  The bonobo screamed out for Noa to help him again, reaching out his elongated arm to the chimp.  The younger ape knew it was useless to do so from the far distance between them.

Noa could only think of one thing to say to the disgraced king.

“I agree with you…on one thing.  My heart is too human…”

X.X.X.X.X.X.

The bonobo roared at him as the rafter broke completely off, and the reverberation from the metal caused the older ape to let go.  Proximus fell into the recesses of the ship, with the rafter following after.  Noa could hear both the older ape hitting the bottom and the metal rafter falling on top of him.  The chimpanzee winced at the sound as it echoed throughout the ship.

Noa closed his eyes briefly, he didn’t know if it was a moment of silence for the bonobo, or utter shock from such a gruesome way to die.  He inhaled sharply through his nostrils before ascending upward to the human female reaching out to him.  The young chimp clasped his large hand as gently as he could around Mae’s much smaller hand.  She had some help from Anaya and Soona as all three of them pulled him through the opening.  The two chimpanzees embraced him tightly, hooting in happiness that their childhood friend was safe.  They touched their foreheads with each other, huffing lightly with joy as Dar approached as well to wrap her son in his arms.  He touched his forehead with his mother, feeling grateful that his friends and family were safe.

Noa turned his attention to Mae after his mother released him from her embrace.  The human female stood there shyly, her gaze not quite looking at him as he approached her.  

It was Mae who eventually stepped forward and wrapped her small arms around his neck.  The young chimp was shocked at first that it was the human who initiated this intimate gesture.  He slowly wrapped his arms around her, one around her back and the other stroking her hair gently.  He felt her small hand grasp the fur along his shoulders, burying her face in the crook of his neck.  She felt so small in his strong arms, he suspected she felt perfectly comfortable at the same time.  Noa would keep that thought and feeling to himself.

She pulled back to look into his golden jade eyes.  The human female had a small smile on her lips, and he returned it in kind.  

He felt a hand on his shoulder, turning his head slightly to his left, he noticed it was his mother with Soona and Anaya next to her.  The older female chimp gently took his hand and Mae’s into her own, and placed them on top of each other before placing hers on top of their entwined hands.  

Then Anaya placed his own hand on top of Dar’s and then Soona.  “Together strong,” Dar said softly.  Noa noticed the tears streaming down Mae’s cheeks.

He raised his free hand to her cheek, and gently wiped away her tears with the backs of his fingers.  That small smile from earlier was still on both of their faces.

X.X.X.X.X.X.

The four apes and the human female joined the rest of the Eagle clan in the courtyard of Proximus’s domain.  Anaya surged forward, hooting in delight and encouraging the others to join him.  Dar and Soona stayed behind with Noa, taking in the celebration going on around them.  Noa looked around for Mae, until he glanced over his shoulder behind him.  

She was standing in the shadows of the rusted ship, her right hand grasping her left forearm and looking away at something in the distance.  The young chimp huffed lightly before nodding to himself, and slowly approached the young human.  

 He reached out his hand to her, offering her a small smile.  Mae glanced down at his large hand before meeting his golden jade eyes.

He nodded slowly, silently telling her it was all right.  She placed her hand into his, and he pulled her into the light of the day.

Noa led the human female over to his mother, Anaya and Soona, and turned to the remaining Eagle clan.  The rest of the clan stood there silently in the courtyard, staring at the human female next to their new leader.  

Mae glanced around at the Eagle Clan, her grip on Noa’s hand tightening slightly in anxiety.  She could feel all eyes on her, some of the apes closest to the quintet had sniffed in the air around her.  She couldn’t tell if they were scenting her as a friend, or sniffing in utter disgust as a foe.

Then, a young female child ape approached her slowly.

The child ape glanced back briefly at her mother, the older female raising her hand in a way of saying it was okay.  The little ape turned back and came to a stop in front of Mae.

The child ape blinked slowly, moving her head up and down taking in the human’s appearance.  Mae let go of Noa’s hand when she crouched down to the child’s level.  

The little ape cocked her head to the side in curiosity, hooting lowly under her breath.  Then, the child reached forward and brushed the backs of her fingers against Mae’s smooth cheek.  The human gasped softly at the contact, before giving in and slowly embracing the little ape.  The little ape placed her forehead against Mae’s, accepting the human entirely.  Mae felt fresh tears stream down her face in joy.

A few more child apes approached Mae, cautious at first, and then began touching her hair and clothes in curiosity and wonder.  The human smiled at the ape children around her.

One of the child apes grabbed Mae’s hand, and began leading her into the crowd of the Eagle clan.  The other apes lightly brushed their knuckles against the human’s clothes and arms as she passed them.

Noa looked on proudly as Mae traversed through the Eagle clan, his people accepting the human as one of their own.

[scarleart]

♡ ˚₊· ━━ can we just sit and talk about how fucking SLOPPY and NOISY abby would be eating you out? it runs through my mind every day.

her humongous arms caging you in, flexing as she keeps your legs spread wide open and locked against your chest. your pussy on complete display, jus getting abused by your girlfriend’s mouth each passing second.

abby would be absolutely relentless as she lapped up your pussy, taking long drags of her tongue along your whole core. tasting and savoring your slick essence before she’ll start flicking her tongue over your poor clit with a face pace. her lips pulling the sensitive pearl into her mouth and sucking on it like her fucking life depends on it.

your legs would shaking uncontrollably in her hold, loud mewls echoing around the room along side the downright filthy sounds of abby completely demolishing your cunt. her head shaking side to side as she slurped away at your pussy so deliciously, it couldn’t get any better than this & you were going out of your fucking mind.

the absolute nasty view of abby eating your pussy made you light headed, it’s one thing to feel it but seeing it all while it happens made the feeling 10x more overwhelming.

abby’s intense orbs would be lock intently onto your rolled ones, practically drinking in your face. you were fucking wrecked, lips parted, swollen lips and chin glistening from your involuntarily drooling. the most beautiful fucking sight abby has ever seen.

“so fuckin’ good” she grunts, momentarily backing away from you. her fingers coming down to your hole, collecting your never ending arousal before rubbing it in your clit along with her spit that was everywhere.

your glossy eyes meeting her wild ones, unable to contain the small whine from leaving you when you saw the smirk twisting onto abby’s mouth. she was so fucking hot. everything about her was just… fine. the way she was playing with your clit with that cocky look on her face, the way that black tee looked so delicious on her, it was everything.

the next few moments were a blur, abby fingers were now suddenly rubbing you with so much pressure and so much speed. practically ripping the fucking orgasm out of you forcefully. you couldn’t talk, hell you could barely fucking breathe properly.

“a—abs-“ abby groans at the sight of you coming undone, you were making such a fucking mess. she didn’t know if she wanted to look down or look up at you.

“that’s it, give it to me, goood girl baby” abby praises, voice low and gravely. her fingers still keeping up it’s assault on your puffy button. making you writhe and shake against her hold.

safe to say… abby would be a nasty beast eating you out

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

a warriors love

pairing: neteyam x female omatikaya!reader

WC: 1.7K

warnings: shouting, mentions of cuts and blood. took inspiration from the recomms kidnapping the sullys in the forest.

summary: you have an argument with neteyam out of fear

A/N: lowercase on purpose, sorry if that bothers you. this was something i just word vomited in my doc. Inspired from a prompt i found off pintrest, “you can’t protect everyone” “i have to try”

does the end kinda suck... maybe but i wanted something short and kinda left off for imagination.

been in the drafts since march 12

masterlist

the quiet was eerie. everything felt too still as if time froze and you were the only one to notice the change in your environment. it was like you just lost the ability to hear anything besides your own body.

everything was so loud just moments ago. shouting of commands, the breathing in your twitching ears, the sudden onslaught of bullets and arrows raining hell upon your captive form along with the three sully children and their human companion.

your heart was pounding in your ears but your instincts kicked into gear and you kicked and bit the sky demon and ran deep into the forest with the others, hands tied in front of you and legs pushing you further into the trees.

it all stopped when you toppled into another body, one you weren’t sure of being friend or foe so you struggled in their strong grip. their arms caging you against their chest and you could feel the tears stinging against your eyes and the choked feeling growing in your throat, your screams showing your growing fear. only when you felt the barest touch along your cheek and the gentle whispers of comforting words did you stop your fighting. the tears only flowed faster.

“mawey yawne. mawey.” (calm beloved. calm)

neteyam’s soothing voice sang within your ears and deep within your brain. a hand petting your braids atop your head, even digging his fingers to feel your scalp. his other hand pressed to your back, making your chest flush with his, encasing the both of you in a reality check.

you were alive. you escaped. he saved you. his family was safe.

and all that led to now. you sitting on the floor of your small mauri, eyes focused on nothing before you with your body hunched over your crossed lap. hands mindlessly picking at skin and twisting or bending fingers, or a knee bouncing to an unknown sound only you can locate. even a small rocking motion came upon your body, it was like you were in a fixed trance.

his arms being wrapped tight around your shoulders stopped all functions. slowly you realized what was happening and sluggishly you moved your arms securely along his waist, a firm tug to pull him impossibly closer. your faces tucked into the crooks of each other's necks, deeply inhaling the other scents, feeling the movement of your chest as you breathed in and out.

“neteyam…” your lips brushed his skin, and you gave a tremble to his name. he shushed you, his nose rubbing against your pulse point. his lashes a light tickle on your neck just below your jaw. “focus on your breathing first. your heart putters like that of a hummingbird's wings.”

neteyam pulled away and you started to panic, but all he did was place a hand against your heart and he tugged one of yours to do the same, “follow my heart. listen to my breathing. calm and steady.” you closed your eyes to just focus on the thump thump thump of neteyam’s steady heart.

when you felt relatively calmer, less jumpy you peeled your closed eyes open and stared directly into neteyam’s clouded golden orbs. they looked to be shadowed by different emotions, only one you can see at the top of his emotional surface. anger.

a hand limply touched his cheek, just a ghostly sweep of your fingertips. and before you could move further or speak, fast-paced steps echoed against the cave walls and entered your mauri. kiri walked forward with a woven basket of herbs and salves but stopped short when she looked up from the floor to the two of you still seated in front of each other, neither moving away only straying your eyes to her.

“oh, uh… sa’nu and sempu (mom and dad) sent me to fix any wounds. grandmother is busy with others.” she shuffled on her feet, noting the heavy air.

neteyam stood up and walked over to his sister, taking the basket into his hands, “i shall mend her wounds. stay with tuk and lo’ak, make sure they are okay.” he gave a squeeze to her right bicep and she nodded to the both of you before walking away.

neteyam moved quietly as he worked preparing the paste that would keep any cuts from getting infected and set aside the herbs for wrapping or for swelling bruises. you just watched as he kept his head and eyes down focused, mouth pulled into a thin, tight line showing he was keeping words to himself.

“neteyam… please don’t keep thoughts to yourself. tell me what troubles your mind.” a hand resting on his knee.

his movements stilled and you thought he was about to open up, but instead he mumbled lowly, “this might sting,” and he scooped the thick yellow paste onto two fingers and slathered the medicine along a long and red cut to your forearm. you flinched in his hold, eyes shutting tight with your fingers closing into fists and your breath sucked in through your teeth.

you heard the mumbled “sorries” and felt his hold that was firm but his fingers were delicate. he moved from the cut on your bicep to a cut along your collarbone. the sting wasn’t there as he worked so you focused your attention back on him, needing to hear his voice and thoughts.

“‘teyam, please. i-i know what happened was scary, but not talking to me is worrying me more. it was not our intention to get taken hostage by the demons, they caught us off guard as we were exploring, and- and i know we… yes we went to an area that was off limits. but- but everything was cleared and when i started to get worried i told them we needed to leave and that’s when they arrived, and that’s when we had lo’ak call in.”

neteyam just worked, not stopping to look at you or speak with you, his eyes stayed on your damaged skin. it was making you frustrated. you didn’t mind his silence usually, but it was always a welcomed silence when both of you just wanted to soak up the other’s presence, this was an angered silence. he was giving you the silent treatment.

“neteyam te suli tsyeyk’itan i do not appreciate this silence. i would rather have you yell at me than ignore me as i am trying to talk to you. i know you have some words dancing on your tongue just waiting to be spewed in my face, well speak them.” you jerked away from his gentle touch and you missed it, but he was hurting your heart.

he stayed on his knees, head bowed as he stared at his hands, palms facing the sky. his braids closed off his face, his emotions that you usually could read like an open book, but now he was a clouded sky that wouldn’t let the sun shine through.

your lips trembled and eyes watered, your arms covering your stomach as a protective blanket from this vulnerability. “when i was being choked by their hand around my throat and my queue being tugged harshly, i thought i was to die in that moment. they held knives at each of us, ready to stab if we were to make any move to freedom. and- and as the night crept upon us as they waited for your sempul (father) so they could kill him along with us, i just thought of you. thought of your smile and your comforting laughter that i have to wrangle from you most of the time because you can be too stubborn for your own good. how i would miss the touch of your fingers on my skin, rubbing circles into my hips or caressing my cheeks as we gazed lovingly into each other's eyes. how there were so many words i have yet-“

“i could have lost you! you could have been killed long before we arrived to help! i would stumble upon your lifeless body! do you not know how that would completely break me apart? i wouldn’t be able to live without you, without your soothing words and quiet company. i- i would want to die right with you, even if it hurt my family…i wouldn’t- your loss would just rip my heart out of my chest and completely tear it to shreds.”

his words shrieked loud like a ikran’s cry within your eardrums. your whole body stopped moving and you stood motionless, the air stolen from your lungs and your heart forgetting its automatic beating. your arms fell from their protective hold on your stomach before your feet carried you back to neteyam, knees crouching to the ground. with a hand, you tucked it under his chin and pushed his head up to make proper eye contact and that’s when your heart completely broke in your chest.

his usual glowing irises were surrounded in a red hue from the running tears that left stains under his eyes and along his cheeks. thumbs jumped into action and swiped away the pain that this situation has caused him, you hated seeing him so stressed and worn out.

“ma ‘teyam… i hadn’t meant to put us- put you in this type of position. i never want to be the cause of pain for you and- and i know this whole problem could have been avoided if- if i was a bit stricter with lo’ak and his impulse decisions. but we must now focus on our present.” you connected your foreheads together, thumbs still running over his cheeks.

neteyam wrapped his hands around your wrist, his nose bumping into yours, “i’m supposed to protect you, protect my family and i have failed my purpose.”

“no neteyam. your sole purpose isn’t to be a protector… well actually kinda is- anyway, what- what i am trying to say is. you cannot save everyone neteyam, sometimes Eywa chooses whose life ends if it keeps the balance.”

“i have to try. i have to try and save everyone, especially my family and you. life would never be the same if any of you were to leave in a tragic way.” you pushed braids behind his ears, “and life would be dull and fruitless without you, neteyam. we must protect each other, that is our purpose.”

...

[jennay]

My Best Friend (3)

Noah Sebastian x reader

Master list

1/2/3/4/5

Let me know if you want to be tagged! I'm making a list.

Summary: jolly is tired of Noah and Readers pity party and offers some adventures.

You were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The weight of the breakup with Michael was a constant burden, and you felt trapped in a cycle of self-punishment. Despite knowing it wasn’t healthy, you couldn’t stop yourself from revisiting the pain. Each day felt like a battle, a struggle to keep your head above water while the memories of him pulled you under.

. You’d lose yourself in the flickering images on the screen, or the rhythmic crunch of leaves underfoot. But no matter what you did, the thoughts of him always crept back in, like an unwelcome guest that refused to leave.

Michael had always been a complex character. He was charming and charismatic, the kind of person who could light up a room with his presence. His smile was infectious, and his laughter had a way of making you forget your worries, if only for a moment. But beneath that charm lay a darker side. He was unpredictable, his moods swinging from affectionate to distant without warning. There were times when he made you feel like the most important person in the world, and other times when he made you feel utterly insignificant.

It was a relentless tug-of-war in your mind. Every time your phone buzzed with a message from him, your heart would race with a mix of hope and dread. Maybe this time, he’d realize his mistake. Maybe he’d come back to you, acknowledging that you were the one he truly needed. But deep down, you knew it was a fantasy, a desperate wish that kept you tethered to the past. The reality was that each message only reopened the wounds, making it harder to heal.

Noah had urged you to block Michael’s number, to cut off the source of your pain. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The thought of never hearing from Michael again was too much. Even the briefest connection, a simple text, felt better than the silence. It was a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil, a reminder that he still thought of you, even if it wasn’t in the way you wanted.

“I miss you, I miss us… I wish things could’ve been different,” you thought, the words echoing in your mind like a broken record.

The dim light of the dining room cast a warm glow, and the scent of Noah’s cooking hung in the air. Jolly sat beside you and across the table, Noah’s eyes bore into yours, concern etched on his face.

His cooking efforts—unexpected and thoughtful—hadn’t gone unnoticed. But it was Michael’s message that weighed heavily on your heart, turning your appetite to a stomach ache.

Noah, perceptive as usual, wanted to ask what had changed your mood but he knew from the glow of your phone what had caused the look on your face. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the tablecloth, silently inviting you to hold his hand.

You hesitated, but then placed your hand in his—a gesture that felt oddly right. His tight squeeze conveyed more than words ever could and in that moment you feel safe.

Jolly, pulls his hair into a makeshift bun, eyeing you and Noah with suspicion. He finishes his meal, pushing the plate forward, and takes a deep breath.

Noah’s warning glance didn’t deter him. “We love you,” Jolly blurted out, his voice unapologetically. “But seriously, it’s time to move on from this dude. You deserve better.”

Your eyes trail up to Jolly locking with his brown orbs. You see the concern but it feels like an attack. You pull your hand back from Noah’s and try your best to remain calm for the sake of your friendship but you feel something boiling inside of you. “I’m so fucking sick of people telling me what I deserve!”

You push your chair back and stand up grabbing your plate you set it on the counter and storm off leaving Noah and Jolly in an awkward silence.

“What the hell dude.” Noah harshly speaks. “That's why I was side-eying you.”

Jolly folds his arms over his chest. “She needs to hear it, Noah. This bullshit of holding her hand through everything and babying her isnt working.” he quickly responds. “You.” he says pointing a finger at Noah, “Are part of the problem.”

Noah clenched his jaw, torn between loyalty to you and the truth in Jolly’s words. His gaze followed you as you disappeared into the hallway, and he wondered if he was indeed coddling you, shielding you from the pain that needed acknowledgment.

The conflict churned within him—a battle between compassion and tough love. He knew he had to choose, but the weight of that decision pressed heavily on his chest.

“I’m going to check on her,” Noah says, standing up.

“Or don’t,” Jolly interjects firmly. “Let her pick herself up, Noah.” He rubs his temples. “I don’t know what that guy did to her, but this isn’t like her, and you know it.” Jolly stands and walks over to Noah, gently placing a hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eyes. “Y/N used to pick bar fights for fun, and now she’s crying over some dude? Doesn’t that seem weird? This can’t just be about Michael.” He pauses, “She’s getting depressed.”

“You go upstairs and try! It’s hard to watch,” Noah says, gesturing upstairs.

Jolly nods, dropping his hand back to his side. “Watch me.” He waves for Noah to follow him to your room. He knocks loudly on your bedroom door. “We’re coming in!” he announces. “Pack some clothes for two weeks. We’re going on an adventure.” He then turns to Noah. “You too. All three of us are going, and nobody gets a say in it.”

You sit up on your bed, turning off the TV. “What the hell are you talking about?” you ask with an amused look.

You watch as Noah shrugs but a smirk plays on his lips. “I think he’s right. Let’s go get your mind off everything and forget about Michael, forget about this town. It holds too much over your head.”

Jolly grins, “Plus, I heard there’s a place where they serve pancakes the size of your head. How can you say no to that?”

“That's random.” you say eyeballing him.

“Everythings bigger in Texas.” Jolly says with a sly smile.

“Texas!?” You and Noah day at the same time.

“Thats not the only place but its one of them. Go pack we leave in the morning.”

—

The next day, Jolly held true to his word. He arrived at 5 am, nearly breaking the front door open and bursting through like a psychopath. Whoever decided to tell him where the spare key was, was a monster. You tried your best to blink the tiredness out of your eyes, stretching out your arms knowing you needed to stand up, but your body didn’t want to cooperate. Instead, you found yourself slowly leaning your weight to the left where Noah sat beside you. Your head landed on his shoulder, causing Noah to flinch at the touch. He claimed to be a morning person, but 5 am was too early.

“Jolly,” he quietly said, “we can’t start the day off like this.”

Jolly shrugged his shoulders, not in the mood for either of you party poopers. “C’mon. I got coffee in the car.” He laughed as he picked up the bags by your feet. “Light packing?” he asked you.

You slowly sat up, this time forcing yourself to stand. “I didn’t know what to pack and I know there will be thrift stores on the way…” You paused, your eyes becoming more serious. “We’re stopping at every single one I want to because this… five am bullshit is so unnecessary and it’s the only way you can make it up to me.”

Noah groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, Jolly. You owe us big time. I need at least three cups of coffee before I can even think about being civil.”

Jolly rolled his eyes, already heading towards the door. “Fine, fine. We’ll stop at every thrift store, coffee shop, and whatever else you two grumps want. Just get in the car.”

You and Noah exchanged a look of mutual grumpiness before heading out the door. The early morning air is crisp, and you shiver slightly, wishing you were still in bed. Noah mutters something about needing a vacation from this vacation, and you can’t help but laugh. It felt so good to actually laugh.

You hear Jolly’s laughter as he opens the door of the rented van. How he managed to pull this off was incredible to you. “You two are going to thank me for this trip. I promise.”

You don’t hesitate to crawl in the back seat and lay down. “I don’t want coffee I want to sleep till we get somewhere exciting.” You pull your hood over your head and tighten the strings. You hear Noah hop in the passengers seat. He closes the door and says “I’ll wake you if we don’t die first.”

Jolly shrugs his shoulders, “Are either one of you capable of driving right now?” He jokes.

Noah leans his head against the window. “We’re going to fucking die.”

[mariaxxxxx]

I Wish Under The Same Roof (+18)

Summary: the presence of the princess of Wakanda makes you jealous so you decide your innocence to your husband (+18)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, size difference, smut, HEA, good ending, slight degradation,, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words

word acount: 2.300

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

“There is something I want to talk to You about!” You said in one breath.

He was suppressed by the initiative. K'uk'ulkan faced her, giving her the privilege of speaking. But You were silent.

"What do you want to talk about?" His voice was hoarse, with the accent too strong in his tongue, dragging the syllables in specific places.

Her delicate hands left the heavy wooden table and rested on her lap, feeling the softness of Talokanil silk. You didn't know how to start that conversation, bring up that subject, I felt nervousness rising in your stomach and dinner threatening to come out of your mouth. Remaining seated became difficult and uncomfortable and you got up and walked around the tiny room, pretending to be interested in the works he painted. K'uk'ulkan followed her and soon stood up as well.

“I want to talk about the princess.” You started to just look at the ground, knowing that if you looked at it you would lose your courage. “I see the way you look at her.”

K'uk'ulkan's features became harder, more confused and cold. Here stood before him the unforgivable and imposing secular warrior of Talokan, not the man he had just married. He was raising those walls and building that distance that You fought so hard to break. You didn't want that distance anymore, not anymore, you didn't want him to keep you away like he always did during these months of marriage. I wanted him close, to feel the heat of his body, his hands and his mouth. You wanted him like a man.

"S..."

“Teach me!” His voice sounded loud, echoing through the cold walls of that cave. K'uk'ulkan looked at her confused, waiting for more words.

"What exactly?" He questioned.

“I want you to teach me what couples do.” You approached him, stopping a safe distance away from those beautiful eyes. His cheeks burned as if he were feverish. “I see the way you look at her and I know you want her. But I'm your wife and I know that if you teach me I'll do everything right. I want to fulfill my role as a wife. I want you to take me, to make me yours.”

His heart was beating so fast in his chest that you thought you heard it echo from the corners of the room. You looked up at K'uk'ulkan, staring at those two black orbs that were as free and bright as onyx stone. You felt his hand get scared and put them together to try to contain his nervousness.

“Is that what you want?” He questioned, moving closer and slowly lifting your chin.

“If you want me, I’m yours.” You said in a low breath.

“I want a lot of things from you, girl.” He said, very close to her mouth. “Take off your clothes, lie back on the pillows and spread your legs.”

While untying the ties on your dress, you reflected on your lack of understanding of what sex was. You could imagine what awaited her, but you would be lying if you knew how the act itself worked. Her mother never talked to You nor instructed her about what to expect on her wedding night when she was handed over to her husband. The little she knew was thanks to her maids who had no shame in saying about the marriage bed – You always remained silent, listening, as there was humiliation in remaining untouchable after marriage. K'uk'ulkan was respectful, even too much, never touching You, only giving you chaste kisses.

Then, she arrived, the princess of Wakanda and the young scientist. The princess was kind and friendly, proving herself to be a good ally to her nation, but the hint of jealousy quickly grew in her mind when her husband spent more time by her side. You blamed her innocence for not being able to attract your husband's attention, so one day she finally decided to express her desire to be his. There was also a bit of greed in wanting to complete the act while two nations were on the brink of war and the princess and her damn scientist were meters away from you. Deep down, you wanted to prove that nothing and no one could take it away from you, not even a little princess living on the surface.

You shook your head to get out of your thoughts and hurried to untie the last straps of your dress. When the last bow was untied and the dress slid from your body to the floor leaving You completely naked K'uk'ulkan stopped before You. Looking deep into your eyes, You saw the anxiety that dominated you and it filled your ego for notice your husband burning with desire.

Somewhat unceremoniously, you were pushed until you fell onto the sheets and pillows that your maids kept on the floor for gossip moments. Wasting no time, K'uk'ulkan spread her thighs and lowered his head to her nearly naked vagina. His maids shaved you with hot wax, keeping only a small layer of hair on Mount Venus for aesthetic purposes. They said that men liked it that way. You decided to trust, as they had more experience than you.

But still, You felt embarrassed to have your husband staring so intently at your pussy. You saw him lick his lips as if he was in the presence of a juicy treat.

“You should see yourself.” He whispers, still staring at your pussy. “The most beautiful pussy. I should paint it on my wall to record for eternity.”

You close your eyes feeling shame flood your body with such dirty words, but something lights up in you.

“Does that make you wet, girl?” Question your husband. “The idea of ​​having your pussy exposed on my wall turns you on, naughty little girl. I should have fucked You the night we got married, but I'd rather be patient. Look how I was missing that beautiful, shiny pussy.”

You were about to whimper when he reached down and started trailing kisses down your inner thighs, working his way up to your pulsing core. You hold your breath in anticipation, unable to stop the loud moan that leaves your throat the moment he licks your clit. In an involuntary reflex, you kick him when you feel his tongue, but he holds your legs wide open while he eats you with his tongue. You wanted to apologize, but you were too busy moaning and screaming as your husband devoured you.

“K’uk’ulkan” You moan as his tongue pleasures you.

K'uk'ulkan continues to attack your clit, sending vibrations of pleasure to every part of your body. He sucks and licks you like a starving man, eliciting loud, delicious noises from you. He sucks your intimate lip and traces the tip of his tongue along your slit, just savoring your excitement, dragging his tongue over the waves of your pussy making you more and more excited and wet, preparing you to receive him.

“I’ve thought about you since we got married.” He says with his head still between your legs. “I dreamed of tasting You, feeling You on my face, in my mouth and on my dick. I respected your innocence for a long time.”

K'uk'ulkan closes his eyes and goes back to eating her pussy with his mouth. He pushes his nose against your folds to make way for your clit, which he brings to his lips to wet and suck, caressing the tip with his tongue and finally taking it into his mouth until your back arches. K'uk'ulkan stuck a finger in you to prepare you for him, you were so wet and trapped in the purest ecstasy that you barely felt the intrusion, but two fingers made you moan even louder and be brought to the edge of a precipice. His pelvis tilted toward him seeking more contact. His body was frantic with something that was about to explode.

"Yes Yes Yes." You moaned loudly, body twisting and tightening in wonderful ways. “I feel something coming...”

A sensation began to rise in her core that spread from her toes to her head, her lower abdomen contracted, her thighs tightened around K'uk'ulkan's head as he continued to chase her climax with his tongue. and fingers. You screamed as the orgasm hit his body, you felt his spirit fluctuate for brief seconds before returning.

K'uk'ulkan walked away to take care of himself, removing his jewelry, cape, and loincloth. His member was already rigid and crying at the tip, begging for attention. Trying to have some control over your own body, You propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and only thought about how big he was before being pushed back onto the pillows by your husband.

K'uk'ulkan took your nipple in his mouth as his cock brushed against your thigh. He sucked her breast hard and deep, while he spread her thighs and slid his cock into her untouched pussy. He buries himself hard, all at once and you bite your lip hard, letting out a muffled scream of pain. Your body was relaxed, your pussy was open and ready to receive him, but your husband was big and the discomfort outweighed the pleasure ripped from You once.

He moves, increasing the discomfort that fills you. He buries his face in your neck as he continues moving, with increasing strength and speed, moaning in pleasure close to your ear while moans of pain come out of yours. You couldn't believe how uncomfortable it felt to have him on top of you, inside you. The pleasure he gave her with his mouth exceeded all her expectations. The maids always praised the pleasure that their husbands' penises gave them during the act. You expected the same. Or maybe it just hurt because it was the first time he was receiving it, and such a sensitive place as a vagina would only provide pleasure after suffering and bleeding.

K'uk'ulkan holds your hips tightly, sucking your neck gently and returning to your breasts, nibbling, causing a good pain distracting your discomfort. He continues to move inside you, his body begins to relax and the pain begins to cease with streams of pleasure spreading, but the discomfort remains. You wrap your legs around his waist, scratching his broad back to distract yourself from the discomfort and focus solely on the pleasure.

Wet noises came out of his mouth as he sucked on your breast, never stopping his thrusts. He dropped her breast in a wet pop and said:

"Good girl. You take my dick so well.”

Unable to speak as he pushed his dick further into your pussy, strong hands gripping your hips, all you could do was moan. He sank deeper and deeper into You and when You dared to look down to where you were connected, you almost choked at the sight. You were startled by the thickness of him pushing into You and wondered how he had fit so well. He left you breathless and scared.

A small cry escaped as he pulled out a few inches, before pushing back in, a wet sound echoed through the room and You screamed at the sudden intrusion. It was wet. You were wet. He glided as if he were diving in oil. Every time he moved in and out resulted in an erotic sound. You were sticky with surprising excitement. With a skillful movement of his hips, K'uk'ulkan increased the intensity of his thrusts even further in search of his own release. You weren't far behind.

His eyes twitched, as his hands gripped the sheets beneath him, his body lit up. His toes twitched, her pussy clenched around his shaft, her thighs trembled and her belly contracted. You came again. This time, even stronger than the last. You trembled and twitched and clenched around him, holding onto his long back to keep yourself grounded.

K'uk'ulkan's hands tightened around his waist, pumping his cock into her sensitive pussy. His name fell from her parted lips. His dick never leaving his body going more and more. His eyes closed, slamming his cock violently into you with enough force to make that discomfort resurface, penetrating deeper. Releasing all his seed into You, to the point that it seemed like he poured an entire river inside you.

It was all wet and he was penetrating harder and harder and releasing more and more of his seed. He let go a lot, that was all You could think, when you felt him slide his dick out of You and the seed drip out onto the tissues. His body was now nothing more than a mess, You were covered in sweat and full of semen inside.

K'uk'ulkan sat on his calves, between his legs, with his eyes closed and breathing heavily. His cock, now softened, still glistened with her arousal between his legs. The intensity was waning, but his head swam as he realized what he had done. K'uk'ulkan falls to his side, still breathing heavily. He pulls You into his embrace in a domineering manner.

With your nostrils flared, You smell sweat and semen on their intertwined bodies, but You don't care. She feels drowsy and exhausted, and rests her head on his chest, listening to K'uk'ulkan's heartbeat slow down, until he is calm, lulled by sleep.

You didn't expect that, you didn't expect sex to be a mix of pain and pleasure, or that your husband wanted you like a thirsty man. At that moment, You were in the purest happiness of knowing that K'uk'ulkan belonged to You and only You. No princess would steal him.

[jinuaei]

Different Route

Heyyyy remember that idea I had for self aware Resident Evil 4? I made a small fic/drabble for it but got hyperfixated on hazbin hotel so it wasted as a WIP until I started to miss Leon and now here it is!!! I forgot how this was supposed to go so like the last 10% might be shit

I miss my babies so much 🥹

Warning: VERRYYYY small yandere behaviour

This is insane, everything is too crazy!

Ashley grips the lantern closer to her, the heat of it warming her up despite the shivers running through her body due to the cold marble floor she was  laying on. Tear streaks can be seen as she laments how awful everything has been. She still can't believe what has happened to her the past couple days, god, even what transpired an hour ago felt like a nightmare she desperately tries to wake up from. They were so close to escaping the castle, or at least she thought so.

After Leon successfully put together the heads of the chimera statue, gold bars, akin to jail cells, suddenly sprung up from the floor, surprising both her and Leon. Realizing that he's stuck, Leon tries to find a way out before rapid footsteps are heard from below the staircase. He then quickly commands Ashley to run, which she promptly follows by stumbling into the unexplored room behind her. While in there she proceeded to complete a puzzle that can help Leon escape the cell, encountering multiple scary moving armours on the way. Luckily, the blue lantern she found earlier helped her immensely, although she did lose it after trying to grab the key inside the strange mausoleum. The armours swinging its swords down almost made her pass out.

Once Ashley arrived at the elevated platform just above Leon, she was able to grab a key that could free Leon from his holding cell. However, before she could come back down to where he is, someone grabbed her from behind. Immediately struggling against the cultists grip, a sharp pain in her head stopped her from further movement. The pain was so immense that she could feel herself start to pass out, darkness started to creep in her vision as her ears rang loudly against Leon's screams of…pain? Her head lulls to where Leon is and she sees him drop to his knees and clutch his head, gripping his hair in pain. She tried to shout for him but she couldn't even produce a sound, she was only able to mouth a small 'Leon…' in the process. Just as she was going to lose consciousness, she heard two voices echo against her skull, loud and clear amidst the ringing in her ear.

"NOT HER…NOT YET," the first voice growls, masculine and very very familiar.

"Not her… Not again," the second one begs, soft and comforting, she almost cried hearing such a melodic voice. Perhaps this was an angel sent to bring her soul to heaven? Nonetheless, the pain was too much to bear and she passed out at the same time as Leon.

Given how Ashley has been the target of Los Illuminados, she would think she would wake up tied up in a pole, being forced to become one of the monsters that has been hunting her. Instead, she felt the cold floor pressed to her skin, waking her up from her unwanted sleep. Sitting up, she notices a warmth coming from right next to her.

On her side was the lantern, glowing brighter than she remembered, it flickered momentarily as her hands hover to grab it. Something tells her to keep this lantern very close to her, and she does. Orbs start to surround her, covering her with warmth, caressing her skin with the blue glow emitting from it.

Sobs come out from her mouth when the sudden feeling of love and affection rolls over her, it might be just from her starting to go crazy, but she doesn't care. This lantern is the only thing that made her feel safe with everything that happened. Sure, Leon has been there protecting her, but she admits that he's a bit weird muttering to himself about how ‘They came back’ or how he’ll ‘make sure that They won't leave him anymore, not again’. But that doesn't matter anymore, not when Leon needs help, not when she has the lantern with her. 

Ashley clutches the lantern tight against her tear streaked form, determination filling her as the thought of Leon needing her help filled her mind. She knows she needs to help Leon and even though it's scary, the blue light has given her enough confidence to proceed. Something tells her that nothing bad will happen to her when she's holding the lantern.

“Leon… wait for me, I'll save you!”

[justcallmefox89]

Gale and the Gith: Chapter Sixteen - After the Creche

They've made it out of the creche safely, but nothing is the same.

The journey back to camp is frantic as Gale and Astarion struggle to carry an unconscious X’aa’nath between them. Lae’zel silently forges ahead, refusing to even look in the general direction of her injured kin.  Gale has never been a particularly violent man, but Lae’zel’s indifference towards X’aa’nath has him itching to cast a well-placed fireball in her direction.

Karlach is the first to spot them and quickly jogs over, effortlessly hoisting X’aa’nath in her arms.

“Oh thank the gods,” Astarion groans, rolling his shoulders.  “I never realized someone so thin could weigh so much.”

“What happened to Soldier?” Karlach asks, casting a worried eye at the handprint shaped bruised on X’aa’nath’s cheek and the dried blood from his earlier nosebleed.  Her eyes flick to the others, taking in their similarly bedraggled states.  “The creche wasn’t interested in helping huh?”

“X’aa’nath failed us all,” Lae’zel snarls.  “Now my kin hunt us, and I have been named hshar’lak.”

“Gods not this again,” Astarion whines, tilting his head back and closing his eyes in exasperation.

“Lies,” Gale seethes.  “He saved us.”

“Yes, you would take up for him… wouldn’t you?”  Lae’zel sneers at the wizard.

The orb flares in his chest but the pain is secondary to the anger he’s currently feeling.  “You egotistical, stubborn, vindictive harpy,” he growls, stepping closer to Lae’zel.  “Be grateful that X’aa’nath still carries some fondness for you, because if it was up to me I would have left you rotting in that creche with the rest of your kin.”

“Ok then,” Karlach says loudly, interrupting the pair.  “I’m just going to uh, have Halsin take a peek at Soldier.  The rest of you should probably pay Shadowheart a visit… you look like hell.”

She adjusts X’aa’nath’s limp body in her arms and jogs back towards the others, calling for Halsin.

Gale and Lae’zel remain locked in a silent starring contest, neither willing to concede.  Astarion looks on warily, unsure if he should intervene. 

Gale is the first to break the silence.  “Do not speak to him.  Do not speak of him.  Do not even look in his direction.”

Lae’zel snorts out an incredulous laugh.  “Are you threatening me, wizard?”

The orb flashes brightly, it’s eerie purple glow echoed in the depths of Gale’s usually brown eyes.  “Yes.”

One final look of contempt and Gale turns to quickly follow Karlach, Astarion tagging at his heels, leaving Lae’zel alone.  When the two reach camp they find X’aa’nath has already been laid on his bedroll, Shovel tucked against his chest with their tail wrapped around one of his arms. Scratch lays over his legs, whining softly while the owlbear cub curls up against his back.  Astarion touches Gale’s shoulder in a rare show of camaraderie before exhaustedly trudging towards his own tent.

Halsin sits next to the fire, observing X’aa’nath with a slight frown of concentration on his face.  Gale is surprised to see that the sorcerer’s eyes are now open, blankly staring off into the distance.

“How is he?” Gale asks quietly, settling down next to Halsin with a small groan.

“He’s severely overextended his magic.  I’ve seen others much more experienced than him perish using magic in such a way.  Oak Father be praised that he didn’t lose control of himself.”  The druid falls silent.

“Why do I sense a ‘but’ on the tip of your tongue?”

Halsin grins faintly.  “Physically X’aa’nath is well, aside from a few small injuries that were easy enough to heal.  But his soul feels… unsettled.  Pained.  And that can only heal with time.”

“Time,” Gale echoes softly.  “I can only hope that we have enough.”

[hyperfix-wip]

Octobie Halloween: The Witch's Vindication pt. 2

Pairing: Demon! Hobie Brown x fem!Witch! Reader

Summary: After entering into a contract with a demon, you decide to confront your very own monster.

Word count: 4.5k

Author's Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVE! This is part 2/ finale for the Demon!Hobie story! Can't believe this event is going to be over already, but I'm so glad I participated in this! Event is by @the-kr8tor and banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment.

Tags: Demon!Hobie, Witch!Reader, fem!Reader, Demons, Witches, Halloween, Depictions of Monster Appearance, Horror, TW Depictions of Violence, TW Mentions of Abuse, TW Blood, TW Gore

The last thing you remembered before the darkness swallowed you whole were two pools of melted gold, leaving you in a warm haze until you opened your eyes to find yourself away from stone walls. You found yourself floating in an endless abyss, the only light illuminating around you being faint golden web-like veins pulsing around you. Awe creeped up in your head at the hauntingly beautiful sight, dwarfing the last of your fear into the deepest part of your mind, while the tendrils wrapped around your body slithered against your skin in an adoring caress. One of them snaked up to your left hand before you absently grabbed it and gently squeezed against your palm.

“W-what is this place?” you uttered under your breath, almost afraid to break the silence and shatter the sight in front of you.

“You are in my domain, little one.” 

The demon’s voice rumbled and echoed around you, the faint webs growing brighter with each word. “My personal safe haven for when I need to retreat and recuperate, where no one will disturb me...”

Another tendril reached up to your cheek and nuzzled against your neck and cheek. “And now, I share this space with you.”

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat while you looked up to the golden webs in confusion, the tendrils wrapped around you slowly morphing into dark smoke and enveloping your skin like a blanket.

“Your domain? Why would you take me here–”

“We made a contract, did we not?” the demon’s voice cooed at you as the webs ebbed in a golden hue. “You told me your desire, and I accepted it. Now you are under my protection, and I will do whatever to keep my end of the bargain.”

Shivers ran down your spine while the dark shadows clung to your body and seeped into your rags. A warm, fuzzy sensation bloomed in your head before your body grew languid in the abyss.

“And what did you want in return?”

A low rumble of a chuckle echoed throughout the abyss and vibrated on your healing skin.

“I have already received what I wanted, little one. Although not in the way I had initially planned.”

The tendril you clutched onto gradually phased out into a dark shadow before it encircled around your hand. “I was drawn to your power from your summoning circle at first, a pure, raw energy I have not felt from a mortal in a long time…”

A dark, ghostly hand formed in front of you and brushed a strand of hair out of your face, “but the closer I got to it, the closer I got to you, I sensed a strange blockage in your energy flow, something stunting your magical growth.”

The shadowy hand tenderly ran its fingers through your hair, a gentle chill ghosting against your scalp. “If you were any other low-level witch, you would have died the moment I passed through the circle. But with the amount of energy lying dormant in you, the energy you should have tapped into years ago, you have withstood and survived the summoning…”

Dark shadows slowly gathered into the disembodied hand, making it grow and form into an arm, then a torso, then a neck, until a dark figure stood in front of you. Two small golden orbs flickered where eyes should be, and the figure drew closer to you to caress your face with its hands.

“I suppose that insignificant worm had done one thing worth his value,” the demon’s voice echoed around you. “It has brought you to me, my dear. To take in. To nurture. To flourish.”

The shadow’s hands pulled away from your face and reached down to grab your tattooed hands. To your surprise, you saw a smaller marking of a black spider lined with gold wrapped around your ring finger.

“Now, close your eyes and imagine something small coming out of your fingers,” the demon gently instructed you, as if whispering in your ear. “Something easy for you to see in your head. Use your senses to remember if you have to…”

Doubt and apprehension briefly flooded in your mind and trembled your hands, and a small weight dropped down in your stomach at the thought of disappointing the merciful demon. Brief stings bloomed under your skin, and your bones ached. Bile surged back to the back of your throat with a vengeance. Memories of struggling to cast spells under the hateful eyes of your former master while he screamed at you, berated you, for not conjuring anything before reaching for his whipping stick–

“Little one, do not think of that worm. Do not let it control you.”

You blinked up at the warm glow of the twin orbs with wavering, tearful eyes, and the shadowy head slowly morphed into a likeness of the demon’s face, a gentle, tender smile curling up on his lips.

“Take your time, my dear,” the demon reassured you. “Clear your mind, feel for the energy sitting within you, and imagine molding it to your liking…”

Your chest tightened at the demon’s soft murmurs of encouragement, a surge of heat crawling up to your face and the back of your eyes, before you swallow the urge to cry down and close your eyes. The weight in the pit of your stomach shifted pressed against the walls, sending a wave of nausea to you, but you breathed through the wave while imagining reaching out to the weight. How the weight gently thrummed against your fingers with a slight warmth. How you struggled to grip around the weight until you felt it crack underneath your fingers and palms. How you slowly pulled the weight until it was stretched taut and thin, how it reminded you of the thread your mother used to sew up your clothes with her trusted needle while she whispered her stories to you–

“That’s it, my dear. You did it,” the demon praised you with a tender timbre. “You have done beautifully.”

You fluttered your eyes open, only to find golden strings shooting out from your black-tipped fingers. Stunned by the revelation of you actually conjuring something, a soft sob escaped your lips as you imagined the spool and thread in your mother’s hands again before more strings shot out from your fingertips again. You gazed up at the warm pair of gold hovering in front of you with a smile of utter astonishment.

“I…I did it. I actually did it–”

The shadow suddenly dispersed and wrapped itself around you in a warm embrace, spinning you around in the air in the abyss while the golden webs around you shone brightly in pulses.

“I really did it!” You repeated like a mantra as a wave of pride washed over you, “I did it…”

The words gradually died on the tip of your tongue as soon as you realized you were never told of the demon’s name, the only way the contractor could control a demon. A brief flicker of panic surged in your head at the simple mistake, your body growing tense and your mind racing, thoughts of this mistake being a perfect loophole for the demon to take advantage of and–

“Hobie.”

Your spiraling instantly stalled at his response while the shadow slowly pulled away from you and reformed into the demon’s figure again.

“What?”

“Hobie. My name is Hobie, my dear.”

The pair of golden orbs flickered while a deep rumble of a chuckle reverberated in the abyss and the golden webs lit up around you. “It may not be the most intimidating name for a demon, but it is mine, nonetheless.”

A curved sliver of golden light glowed where a smile would be on the shadow, as if amused by your bugging eyes and slackened jaw. “You should blink, little one, or else your eyes will pop out…”

You absently followed his suggestion, the dryness in your eyes slowly disappearing, but you continued to stare at the grinning shadow in front of you. “Y-you –you are willingly telling me your name?”

“...yes?”

“Why?”

A low chortle rumbled in the abyss again, the golden webs pulsing and glowing with each laugh from the demon. “Firstly, it would be quite tiring for me to hear you call me ‘Great One’ or whatever epitaph you mortals arbitrarily think of, especially since we have just entered a life-long contract with each other.”

The dark apparition of Hobie then slowly approached you before his shadowy hands reached out and grasped your own. “And since we have entered such a contract, we are equal to one another. You honor your end of the bargain, and I honor mine. You hold my power, and I hold yours…”

The shadowy Hobie gently pulled your hands up to him, and he rested your hands against his cheeks. “And just as you are mine, I am yours. Whatever you seek, whatever you desire, whatever you decide, I will keep my end and keep you safe.”

Warmth emitted from his smokey figure and seeped into your palms, and a sense of peace gently washed against your body the longer you gazed at the apparition. To your astonishment, all the fear and anxiety you first felt with the demon was gone in less than an hour. From trembling on your knees before him with your bloodied hands to floating with him in his private domain, waves of veneration and joy overwhelmed you in this moment as you gently rested your forehead against his.

Before you could respond, the golden webs in the dark abyss suddenly flashed and glared around you, overtaking all the darkness in the domain. Muffled screams reverberated throughout the space as you clutched your head to shield your eyes and ears before Hobie’s voice thundered around you.

“You DARE speak of disciplining her when she bore the mark of YOUR DEFILEMENT, WORM?!”

 A scream ripped through your throat as you curled up into a ball while dark energy started to crackle in the air throughout his roars of unbridled rage.

“You BRANDED her like LIVESTOCK! TORTURED her to the point of STUNTING HER POTENTIAL! USED her as a VESSEL to summon me and SACRIFICE HER! And you DARE to speak of disciplining her to ME?! You FUCKING. WRETCHED. EXCUSE OF A CREATURE–”

Darkness suddenly enveloped you into a warm embrace and muffled the rest of the screams of thundering. A gentle warmth slowly seeped into your skin from the shadows, and tiny kiss-like flutters ghosted along your face while Hobie’s voice gently whispered to you.

“My apologies, my dear. It seems my emotions are running rampant in my body at the mortal realm at the moment. There is nothing to be alarmed about.”

Tremors ebbed through your body from the initial shock, but you gradually relaxed inside the blanketed safe haven of the shadow before cautiously responding. “W-what is going on out there? Why was there screaming? Why did you sound so angry–”

Hobie’s voice shushed you with a tender caress from his shadow. “I merely wanted to discuss something with that worm, little one, that is all. He seemed to be occupied with some gaudy celebration with some other mortals in that pathetic excuse of a manor, but…I managed to have him find the time for me.” More screams muffled into your ears, and your face pinched into a cautious frown as you glanced up to the golden orbs in front of your face, but the orbs shifted into a squint. “The discussion is not doing so well…for the worm and his comrades, at least.”

The thundering boom of Hobie’s voice and the subsequent terrified screams rattled in your head while the shadow apparition continued to swaddle you like a blanket. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would be comforted and protected like this again, especially by a dangerously powerful demon. You had forgotten this feeling, this sense of safety and peace within you, this reassurance you had long abandoned until Hobie emerged from the shadows and your drawn blood at your forced beck and call. A small part of you still feared him, but the fear morphed into one of losing this nurturing, this affection that you did not see yourself worthy of, from the demon before you.

You wanted to be worthy though. You wished you could prove you deserved this with him.

“Hobie?”

A low growl of approval vibrated against your skin. “Yes, my little witch?”

A small weight of anxiety crushed against your lungs, but you shakily breathed in and continued on.

“I…I want to go back out to the mortal realm. I need to see my former master one last time.”

The muffled screams barely filled in the moment of silence before Hobie solemnly responded.

“Are you sure, little one? It is not a pleasant sight for you to see.”

More ghosts of kisses brushed against your skin, and you shivered and melted from the shadow’s caresses, but you slowly nodded before gazing into the familiar pair of golden lights. “Yes. This…this is something I must do for myself.”

The golden orbs dimmed before the shadow reluctantly pulled away from you, taking the shape of Hobie’s figure in front of you again before a shadowed hand reached out to take yours.

“Very well, my dear. Just be prepared for what you will soon see.”

Your hand squeezed the solid-feeling hand as the darkness and golden webs around you gradually retreated into the shadow figure, and a muffled scream slowly grew clearer in your ears as your surroundings morphed into a gruesomely bloody sight.

You stood in the middle of a dark, ruined foyer of the mansion of your former master, the mansion you were trapped and tortured in for years. Broken glass, ripped off decorations, and broken pieces of masks scattered across the room. Splatters of red ichor painted the once-pristine white walls and expensive oil paintings along with deep holes and scratch marks. The smell of blood, kerosene, piss and shit assaulted your nose as you continued to look around the foyer, where your eyes drifted to the gore on the hardwood floor. Chunks of flesh– pumpkins, turnips, or human– and torn off body parts littered the wood, almost eliciting a gag from you before you swallowed the urge down.

It was a bloody massacre.

Your eyes turned to the heavy footsteps approaching you, landing on Hobie’s golden gaze. The tendrils on his head pulled back into a neat slick-back while his bloodied black robes dissipated into smoke and reformed into a black coat with gold trimmings and dark breeches. His lips curled up into an adoring smirk as he held his bloodied clawed hand out to you.

“You look beautiful, my dear.”

You slowly took his hand and glanced down at yourself, the tattered rags you had on replaced by a black off-the-shoulder evening dress trimmed in gold stitching, and the scars and injuries that blemished your skin changed into black webbed marks from your fingertips up to your shoulders. Your eyes then drifted down to your chest, where the large mark of a black spider proudly sat over your heart, before flicking back up to the proud demon.

“One of the mortals had a dress similar to this,” Hobie chuckled lowly as he sauntered over to you, stepping over a bloodied leg on the floor. “Although the one she wore was a garish green with some needless ribbons, feathers and pearls. It did not help that she looked like a hog stuffed in it.”

His golden eyes glinted with mirth before he leaned in to brush his lips against your exposed shoulder. “You, however, are a bewitching sight in this.”

Heat crawled up your skin from his praise while he peppered kisses from your neck to your burning cheek, and you briefly forgot about the carnage around you before a distressed groan echoed in the room. Both you and Hobie look to the direction of the noise, and your eyes widened and your body stiffened at the sight of the bloody, limbless stump of your former master hanging from the ceiling by some golden threads.

Weak whimpers wracked the portly stump as blood weakly spurted out from his joint sockets while the threads gently glowed against his bloodied clothes. The portly man wearily lifted his head up, his beady eyes sunken and his mustache caked in in blood and bile, before he tensed up at the sight of you with Hobie.

“You…”

The man’s dead eyes leered at your appearance before they lit up with fury while he needlessly struggled in his bindings. “You little whore! What the fuck have you done–”

The golden threads suddenly flared up, and the man jerked in the air and screamed in pain. Chills ran down your spine at the sight while a burning sensation bloomed in your chest, shaking you to your core before Hobie rested his hand between your shoulder blades and gently pushed you towards your former master.

“My apologies, little one,” Hobie whispered in your ear as you two stepped in front of the pitiful stump. “I barely managed to restrain myself to keep him alive for you.”

You remained quiet as you stared at the pig-like man in front of you. The man who took advantage of a struggling witch and her young daughter after their cottage near the village was burned down. The man who beat your mother for any reason he could think of– failing to summon a deity for his wish, attempting to escape with you multiple times, fighting back to protect you from his wrath– for years until she died. The man who then turned his wrath onto you and repeated the cycle for years more.

You blankly stared at the man who reigned senseless hell over you and your mother, now a bleeding, wheezing hunk of meat hanging from his prized chandelier like a butchered pig hanging outside the butcher shop, before taking a step closer to him.

“Have you settled your deal, Master?” you cooly asked him as he lifted his head up to you. “Or, my apologies, former Master.”

The man before you clenched his jaw and bared his bloody teeth at you with a hardened glare. “What the hell did you do?”

“I have simply accepted what I had received,” you answered with a low, even tone despite the slight trembling in your hands. “I successfully summoned a demon, and he offered to make a contract with me. I merely accepted it–”

“That was supposed to be MY deal, you thieving little bitch–”

The threads flared up in gold again before the man screeched out in pain, and behind you Hobie coldly glared at the man with his own glowing eyes. When the bleeding lump of meat slumped in the air again, you mentally tamp down the brief fluttering satisfaction in your chest before answering him again.

“From what I was told, only the person who performed the summoning can make a deal with a demon. I am sure you were made aware of that when Hobie came to see you earlier.”

You then glanced around the bloody massacre within the walls of the foyer, ignoring the churning and knotting in your stomach, before turning back to him with an impassive face. “However, I would not fault you for not remembering after everything that happened here.”

Your former master huffed and groaned while he continued to glare daggers at you. “I should kill you for sending that monster over here–”

“It would be rather difficult for you to kill me without any limbs,” you interrupted, surprising even yourself with how quick your retort was without any stuttering. 

An amused snort echoed behind you while you watched a vein slowly pop out from the hanging man’s forehead. “And I never ordered Hobie to do anything. He came to you by his own choice, did everything here by his own choice.”

You stepped closer to him again, your eyes sharpening to a cold stare as they locked into his eyes. “As for the monster in the room, the only one I see is the one in front of me.”

The air crackled in your ears as you stared down at the pitiful man hanging in the air. “The monster who took everything away from me. The monster who made my life a senseless hell for nearly a decade.”

The man choked out some bloody phlegm and clotted blood before he bared his red-stained teeth at you. “Is this what this is about? Some petty revenge for that useless, old witch–”

“My mother was a seamstress,” You growled at him as the black web marks on your skin started to emit a golden glare. “She had no use for magic in a world that did not need it, especially when she knew greed had bled into the world’s heart…”

Tears burned and welled up in your eyes while the markings on your body shined brighter. “And yet she was punished for it. Beaten for it. Desecrated for it until she died in front of me, only for that same greed to turn its wicked eyes and do the same to me…”

The tips of your fingers burned while the weight in your chest pressed against you harder, and a wave of resentment washed over your body the more you forced yourself to look your abuser in the eye. “And for what? For power? Power that you cannot obtain with your own hands, so you senselessly abuse those who have even less?!”

Red flooded in your eyes while your voice thundered in the ruined foyer, and the man you once feared now cowered in front of you. Dark energy swirled around you, solidifying into unstable spider legs with gold electricity crackling around them. The black marks on your body shined into a furious gold, your hair fluttered and writhed in the air, and the white in one of your eyes slowly turned gold as your pupil splitted into eight.

Before any more of your unstable energy crackled out of you, a large callused hand gently wrapped around your throat from behind and slowly pushed your head up, pulling your hate-filled eyes to the pools of gold you had grown to revere.

“Breathe, little one,” Hobie quietly reminded you with a warning in his voice. “Do not let your anger consume you. That little worm is not worth losing control over…”

The demon then leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, the crackling dark energy around you slowly traveling up from your body and seeping into his lips, until the tension in your body melted and themarks died back down into their original inky color. His lips lingered onto yours as he slowly let go of your throat and pulled away, clinging to each other until they regretfully parted.

“You are more than the trauma he inflicted upon you. Do you hear me?”

You stared up at Hobie with wavering eyes as a tear rolled down your cheek, your breath shallow and your hands trembling, before you slowly nodded at him and tilted your head back to the squirming coward struggling in vain to escape his bindings. With a sharp inhale, your face reverted back into an impassive blank stare as you wiped the tear streak off your cheek and raised your hands to the man’s face. The brief flicker of the memory of your mother popped into your head again until more golden threads carefully shot through your fingertips.

“Do you see this? What I had just conjured?” you quietly asked the man with a slight quirk on the corner of your mouth. “It may seem like useless threads to you, but I have finally managed to create something with the magic you scorned and abused me for…”

The man groaned and whimpered as he struggled to turn away from you while you carefully wrapped the golden threads around his neck. “You had called me useless and pathetic when I was not able to conjure anything under your watch, stomped and whipped me every time I failed, screamed and laughed at me bleeding on the floor while claiming I deserved it…”

“N-No, wait,” the man trembled while the threads slowly tightened around his neck and grazed into his skin, “what are you– what are you planning on– wait, have mercy on me–”

“Mercy?” your slight smile dropped as you tilted your head to the side, your dead eyes staring into his soul as his taunting words in your memories echoed in your head. ���Why should you have mercy?”

You started to wrap the other ends of the thread around your fingers in a deliberate show, forcing the coward to watch while his face paled in terror of what you could do. 

“I lived my life in fear because of you,” you continued on with a shaky voice. “I lived believing that I was a defective, useless object that was only good as a punching bag for a weak, pathetic little man. But I know better now. I know I am not what you say I am. I know I deserve better. I hold more power for myself now, and you will never take that away from me ever again.”

The pure terror in your abuser's eyes reflected your cold deadpan while you slowly raised your bound hand, and you glanced at the threads around his neck, tightening even more to the point of blood beading against it. The portly stump of a man babbled and begged with unintelligible words before you, the abusive predator now prey under your mercy.

“You deserve this.”

With a yank from your bound hand, the golden threads around his neck cut through his flesh and soaked in the red ichor before his decapitated head finally dropped against the hardwood floor, blood spurting out from his neck while his stump of a body uselessly swung in the air.

You stood there in front of the corpse of the man who ruined your life in silence, your mind blank and your ears ringing, until your legs suddenly gave out and you collapsed onto your knees. Slow huffs of laughter started to bubble from your chest, growing increasingly louder and unhinged, until tears welled up and streamed down your cheeks while the laughter shifted into sobs.

The wave of catharsis crashed down and overwhelmed you as all the weight crushing down on you finally lifted off your shoulders, and you continued to bawl as Hobie slowly approached you from behind again and carefully scooped you up in his arms. He tenderly shushed you and pressed your curled up body against his chest, tucking your head underneath his chin while countless tendrils rose from the shadows and slowly demolished the foyer as well as the rest of the mansion.

“You did well, little one,” Hobie consoled you while you two slowly sunk into the shadows amidst the destruction of the mansion, “now let us go home…”

With The demon’s final words echoing through the collapsing corridors of your prison, you finally got to leave behind the worst of your past as you finally gained your freedom in the shadows.

[niiine]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒

Character(s): Scaramouche, Reader, Nahida, Traveler (Lumine)

Summary: As much as you trust your lover, you can’t help but to notice how heaven-sent Lumine’s beauty is.

Angst (?), Fluff (?) idk anymore

Soft! Scaramouche (Mochi), kinda OOC?

Reader referred as You/They/Them

Based on my dream last night. ughh I really can’t write fluff but I wanna do something abt my dream :// I juuust love the idea of him being so mean and bad to others and soft and fluffy when it comes to you. Also I wanna date irl scara, where can I find irl soft scara?

The walls of the Akademiya echoed as your feet paddled against the cold, hard floor, heading towards the Sanctuary of Surasthana where your beloved can be seen. Surely, you should be asleep at this time of the day, but what can you do? you can’t fall asleep without Scaramouche beside you.

It’s not much of a long journey before you reach your destination, eyes landing on the petite form of the Dendro Archon that is currently conversing with your lover and Lumine. You always find the archon cute and squishy, something that always petrified Scara because you cannot just hog an Archon (Name) or something like that. And Lumine, well, she’s hella pretty. Golden locks and orbs that holds the sun beneath—she’s practically glowing under the moonlight. And aside from her beauty, she certainly hold a ground against anything. Then there’s you, the smart, average you who—

Your train of thought halted when Scaramouche noticed your figure, concern laced at his voice when he calls your name. “Why are you out this late?” he waived at you to come closer, body moving to face your coming form. 

“Can’t sleep. I came to pick you up.“ Lumine smiled at you and Nahida giggled at your words—archons, she really is cute. “Apologies, my dear (name), I just need to discuss something with the wanderer“ she offered you a small smile in which you returned with a bow of your head “There’s nothing to apologize Lord Kusanali“

“(Name)“ The man called you out again, and you turned your gaze sweetly towards him. The simple action made his chest feel tight, cheeks red, and stomach rumbling with butterflies.

“Didn’t I tell you that it’s dangerous to go out alone at night?“ His tender voice reached your ears, and you wonder, is this how the traveler hear him, too? your stomach drops a little, what if he sees Lumine the way you do? Of course, of course he does... “(Name)...(name) are you alright?” the man tap your shoulder, bringing you back to earth in the process.

“Yes, yes, just a bit tired, I think“ a shy laugh escaped your lips, and it earned a soft sigh from Scara, fingers interlacing with yours as he turned towards the other two in the room, the affection vanishes the moment his eyes left yours, “I’ll get back here first thing tomorrow to discuss where we’ve left off, I can’t keep this lady up all night.“

Lumine and Nahida nodded, offering you a small wave of goodbye as Scara lead you out of the room. Stealing one final glance at the blonde-haired girl, you just can’t help but think that maybe your lover wanted you home because he didn’t want you to see how close the two of them.

“Alright doll, come here“ You glanced up the dark headed man and saw him unleashed his elemental skill, offering to carry you home. “Can’t afford you complaining about the long walk“ he added, teasing you, eyes looking at you fondly. You straddled closer and climb up onto his arms quietly without retort, face buried in his neck as he secures your back and knees.

Your unusual silence told the lad that there’s something off. That you’re thinking something but scared of telling him, and he didn’t want that. He wants you to tell him everything and anything that bothers you because he believes that it’s his job to keep you safe— both physically, and emotionally. 

Lost in his thoughts, he almost fall when you gave him a small peck on his cheeks. If you’re mind isn’t wandering in the dark right now, you might have noticed how warm his skin has become, or the fiery red colors on his cheeks and the tip of his ears. “What’s the problem?” is all he could muster. Scared that his voice might give away how love struck he is when it comes to you.

You whispered an almost inaudible nothing and he nuzzles the top of your head, determined to get it out of you once you’ve landed.

Not soon after, you reached your shared home. Scara following from your behind, scrutinizing your every actions. Silence impregnates the surroundings until he speaks again, digits reaching out to cage your waist from your back.

“Love, tell me what’s wrong” It’s not a question, he’s not asking you anything. Scaramouche demands words from you, and you know better than not to give the man what he wants from you.

“I-I…Do you like the traveler?” your question earned a confused, and somewhat irritated look from your lovers face. Wanting to make sure you didn’t hurt your head; he scuffled your hair a bit and playfully check for damage before turning you around to face him. “Aight, there’s no sign of injury or something. Probably just the stupidity talking” He looked at you with a deadpan expression, rolling his eyes.

“I’m a Scholar in the Akademiya. I’m not stupid” you retort, and your lover let out a gentle laugh— something only you’re aloud to hear. “Then don’t say stupid things.” Engulfing your whole body with his once again.

“But she’s pretty, and she’s strong. She’s so capable more than I am”

He pressed his forehead unto yours, roses coloring your cheeks as heat crept up to your face, what am I saying? You thought.

“(name) I’m pretty sure you know this but let me tell you again, I have no interest in worms. She’s not even as good looking as you are.” he said, thumbs moving across your cheeks dearly. His usual tough, mean act dissolves at your presence. Well come on, he can’t afford you being scared of him or his touch— he’d literally rather die.

“’m sorry, I just… can’t help it” he rolled his eyes jokingly, before burying his face unto you neck and peppered it with butterfly kisses.

“The audacity of you to think such thing when all I do is shower you with attention” he started, breath sending shivers down your spine and guilt eating your heart. “I wonder what I should do to make sure this won’t happen again” the lad finished his sentence while nibbling on you bare skin, fingers trailing down somewhere only you know where.

[qininqinin]

Mutts don't play nice

[Horror x Cross, animal play, pet play, collar use, implied breeding kink, bite kink, fear play, ecto body, dry humping (?)…]

note: there you go @what-have-i-unleashed, ngl I'm embarrassed about my delay, but it's finally done!

A suppressed whimper slipped from his throat, crawling down his spine as his figure was illuminated by the large red orb of Horror. 

Cross, still curled up at the foot of the bed, didn’t hesitate to hide on the other side, poking his head out just to watch the other skeleton — who continued to gaze at him from the doorway. A growl rumbled from his ribs; coarse, deep, scratching at Cross's drooping little ears.

A creak echoed through the room, and Cross quickly realized that Horror was approaching with cautious steps, crawling on all fours toward his hiding spot. He sniffed the air a few times before huffing, the orb focused on the small glimpse it could see of the curled-up skeleton.

Before Cross could slip under the bed — where only he would fit, safe from the other’s teeth — Horror quickly yanked him by the tail, eliciting high-pitched whines from Cross's mouth.

In one moment, Cross was trying to escape Horror's large hands; in the next, his body was pinned beneath the weight of the other’s ribs. With his belly up, Cross had no choice but to squirm, his little white dots trembling and fixed on Horror’s massive mouth, filled with thick, sharp teeth.

Like him, Horror had also summoned a pair of dog-like ears — both red and plump. A bit of drool dripped from Horror’s chin, landing mischievously on Cross’s face - it was disgusting.

He didn't even have time to howl for help, not when his voice broke into fresh whimpers as Horror's hips started rocking against his body - it was slow, as if he was testing, waiting for something. The newly bought collar around his neck was swiftly ripped off by the hound above him, torn to shreds by his teeth — giving him more space to spread his saliva along Cross's vertebrae.

Cross soon had his neck explored by Horror's fat tongue; licking, marking his scent on him. Everything was happening so quickly; Cross didn’t even know how to react! His soul raced so fast beneath his ribs that he was sure Horror could hear it - along with his whines and broken huffs.

A harsh thrust against his pelvis made him grab onto the other's clothes, the sharp tips of his phalanges tearing the old coat Horror was wearing. Cross could feel his hips being gripped tightly before a new pressure was rocked against his body. He couldn’t even look down.

Cross shouted a loud whine when Horror summoned bulge was rocked against him again; and again and again - without a pace or goal. He could feel his back scratching against the floor of his own room, the bed beside them. 

All he could hear were his own moans — startled, sly — and Horror's animalistic growls at his neck, breathing against his vertebrae as the hound thrust against his protected pelvis.

That’s too fast! Cross couldn’t help but think, feeling his magic starting to form from his ribs down, It’s too fast! He can feel his eye lights rolling back into his skull as Horror sinks his teeth in his neck.

A string of marrow oozing from the bite.

.

.

.

Cross suddenly felt his body freed, the weight of before vanishing abruptly. A pained moan escapes his mouth as his fresh wound is exposed to the cold air.

“Unbelievable; I let you loose for five minutes, and you already want to breed the new pup.” Killer yanked on Horror’s collar forcefully, not caring at all about the choking sounds coming from him. “And you’re a dumb mutt too — you didn’t even take his shorts off!”

Cross's little white dots shrank in fear at Killer's appearance — and they trembled even more as Killer's attention shifted to him.

A smug smile spread across Killer's face when he noticed the damp spot on Cross's shorts, faintly glowing purple. “Don’t worry, Criss Cross,” he cooed, tilting his head to the side while still pulling Horror by the neck. “After I give this mutt a good punishment, I’ll come play with you, okay?”

[chiharuhashibira]

Hiiiiii so I was wondering if you can do a sanemi x fem abused reader plss?? And like the reader drops a plate and is having a panic attack and sanemi comforts us ???pls and thanks (if not sanemi kiojuro or obanai??)

Of course! We certainly can~ Your wish is my command UwU

I've been wanting to write about Shinazugawa-san! And no worries about the Kyojuro and Obanai imagine~ I'll definitely make one and tag you hihi ^^

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔

𝐀 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐗 𝐀𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭

Content Warnings: Curse words, Wound and Blood, Abuse Flashbacks, Panic Attacks

Notes: Y/N = Your Name | E/C = Eye Color | H/C = Hair Color

As if by muscle memory, you flinched and covered your face as the plate crumbled into pieces on the floor. The streaking pain and screaming echoed inside your head, confusing you about what's real and what's not.

As you looked down, you saw tiny red droplets on the wooden floor. With a lump now forming on your throat, you crouched down, and tears started to escape your E/C eyes. The tremors came back as if you were back at the old estate where you had been living a year ago.

Your mind was filled with endless memories of how your own mother and your new stepfather had physically and verbally abused you.

"You're a fucking twat. You should've died with your father."

"Why don't we just sell you, Y/N? Perhaps we can get money from you getting laid! You're just a piece of shit to us anyways..."

A small sob escaped your lips as you looked around, your sight blurred with tears. Then suddenly, a warm, calloused hand gently caressed your back.

"Hey Y/N, calm down, please. You're safe with me."

All your demons calmed down inside of you as your E/C orbs met with his pale purple ones.

Oh yes, you have been living with the Wind Hashira for a year since you watched as your evil parents turned into a real-life demon in front of your eyes. He was your saviour; he still is, and that's the reason why your heart started beating fast for him.

You remembered the first night after the traumatic incident when Sanemi insisted you come with him to Kocho-dono's place. Who would've thought that this harsh-tongued man, full of scars from his old and present battles, would take you under his wing and show you a part of him that he has never shown to anyone after his nightmares came true?

Sanemi gently picked you up as your shivers continued to take over your body. Normally, you would protest this gesture, scared that he might tease you for being so frail, but that never came from him. He never mocked you.

"Y/N, breathe. Please breathe for me."

You followed him as he slowly put you on the zabuton, making sure that he was beside you to support you in case you fell down again. You watched him as your sight got clearer once again; he was opening a little box that he always hid under the table. His little first aid kit.

Sanemi is aware of your panic attacks; he even prepared things to help you when your past gets ahold of you once again, like this first aid kit that he kept in case you wound yourself up.

"Sanemi, I'm so sorry. I dropped a plate again."

He grunted, taking your hand and cleaning the wound from it that you got from accidentally squeezing the shard on your hand a while ago. No words came out of him for a few seconds. His eyes and hands are just focused on wrapping the wound on your hand with bandages.

Then after that, he looked up at you with no smile, but his eyes said it all. He was trying his best to comfort you. "Y/N, it's just a plate. I won't be mad even if you accidentally break every single one of them." He suddenly pulled you into his arms, embracing you with a warmth that no one would ever expect.

Flashbacks brought back your first kiss with Sanemi and how he tried to make you stop crying from being too scared that he wouldn't come back from his missions. You saw how he beheaded your demon mother and stepfather after they scratched his arms back then. You never want to see him hurt again, but he's a demon slayer. A Hashira, to begin with. His life won't really be about comfort and pleasures; he's here to slay demons, and he sacrificed his safety for that devotion.

You always wondered why he had agreed to take you under his wing after Kocho said that you were too scared, even to the three young girls in the Butterfly Mansion, but not to Sanemi. Despite his complaints, he still took you in and made sure that you were in safe hands.

Until one day, you just fell for him. His mean attitude, scarred exterior, and cold facade—those never stopped you from loving him more. And he fell for you too. He would never say things like, I love you, but you always felt special. Especially when he kissed you that night when you tried to stop him from leaving for his mission.

"Don't leave me Shinazugawa-san... Please... I—I... care for you so much."

Sanemi leaned in for a warm, passionate kiss, and you'll swear that his eyes glistened seconds before his intimate action.

"I'll come back for you. I won't die that easy. You know how badass I am, right?"

And that's it. That's how you and Sanemi's relationship changed in an instant.

"Hey, you're drowning in your thoughts again."

Sanemi pulled you out of the embrace, held you by your shoulders, and stared at you with concern in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Sane—"

"Another sorry from your lips, and I won't kiss you again."

Your heart started beating fast after what he said. You shut your mouth and bit your lip, making a small smile appear on Sanemi's face.

"Good girl. E/C, those fucking demons cannot return to harm you. I won't let them. I'll slash their heads even before they take a step near you. I promise I'll protect you. I won't lose you too."

You gave him a small smile and nodded. Sanemi suddenly pulled you into his arms again and kissed through your H/C hair. "I won't lose you, Y/N. I won't let that happen." He caressed your back, hushing you from the remnants of your past.

The fear in you subsided. Sanemi's right. No one can hurt you again. Sanemi's the only person who can kill the demons inside your head. He's the only person who's always there to get you back on your feet if you fall. His loving comfort and company are all you need to heal from your nightmares. And perhaps you're also what he needs to make peace with his.

Your shaking subsided as your breathing stabilised. You raised your head and caught a glimpse of Sanemi's sweet smile. This part of him is for your eyes only, and you're happy with that.

"Your wound still hurts, doll?" You shook your head. Sanemi suddenly pulled you onto his lap and held your waist. "That's good to know. If you ever feel that again, always remember that I'm here, okay? I'll kill all those demons for you if that's what it takes."

You hummed, putting your hands over his shoulders. "Thank you, Sanemi. Thank you for being here."

"Of course. I love you."

That's the first time that you've heard those three words come from his mouth. His raspy voice and his loving smile made you blush. You'll say the world has stopped, but it already has since Sanemi started loving you back.

"I love you too. I'll do my best to take care of you too."

Sanemi bit his lip and pulled you closer. "Now kiss me." He said, and you happily obliged, pressing your lips gently onto his as he embraced you tighter.

"Y/N, you're mine."

"Always yours, Sanemi..."

You replied through the sloppy kisses, and you'll never know; perhaps it'll be more in a few blinks of an eye.

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

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆!

I hope you enjoyed this short fic as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Thank you so much for your request! And yes! I'll be writing a Kyojuro and Obanai fic for yah~ Totally appreciated this! ^^

Keep the requests going! Aside from X Reader, I also write Yaoi soooo~ BUT LET'S JUST FOCUS ON KNY BL IN CASE, FIRST!! XD

Feel free to comment and reblog this story~ Arigatou Gozaimasu!

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

[xxnghtclls]

Permission

Chapter 31

(Chapter 30; Chapter 32)

True Form Sukuna x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence

Please see Chapter 1 for tags! Permission

Someone Special

„I love you.“

Minutes passed since he vanished, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to look away, hoping you would maybe spot his crimson orbs in the shadows. You whisper, still staring into the empty darkness, knowing he can’t hear the words you were too nervous to tell. But you wait. And you’re not disappointed. There it is.

Like an echo of your longing in his head, he answers with a squeeze on your heart.

It’s him.

If he knows about his effect on your heart?

Does he talk to you in your absence, too?

Flames still crackling right next to your feet, as you keep staring on the spot you saw his shadow last.

These words he whispered in your ear, so honest and gentle, so… pathetic. It makes you smile.

What a cute bastard, you think to yourself while remembering his words about him getting angry just because you left his chambers. Truly pathetic.

He knew he wasn’t going to see me for a while.

You sigh and decide to sit back down in front of the fire, fiddling with the remaining apple in your hands, you keep getting lost in thoughts about him.

He kissed me…

He likes to be around me…

What if the King of Curses not only needs to be in your vicinity because of the curse he put on you, but also because he likes you? Truly… likes you? Not just your devotion, obedience or pussy. Not just because you’re his, but because you’re…

you.

What if his kind of curse is similar to yours? A curse so similar to the feeling of love, you don’t know which is which or if it’s the same.

You shake your head at your thoughts and lay down, drawing circles in the dirt in front of you.

He’s the King of Curses, he should know…

You close your eyes and try to put yourself back into the moment with him, while you sat there wrapped into his arm, wondering if he’s ever been in love.

“I apologise for the headache…” you whisper “my love.”

And with a responding ache in your heart, you fall asleep.

Knock

Knock

Knock

Dark, grey clouds of the late evening paint the sky, as you stand in front of the shrine, waiting for Uraume to open the heavy door.

Luckily, your way back wasn’t as eventful as your previous journey. Whenever you were about to cross a burned village, you decided to take a detour and walk around it, kept yourself hidden in the forest and thicket. Every step you took made you miss him more, made the heartache worse whenever it appeared. Knowing now that it’s not only your longing but also his, made it easier for you, soothing almost. Knowing, that he thought of you, too.

Your journey home took a bit longer, five days instead of three thanks to the detours, but you came back safe and sound, just like you promised Uraume.

The locks cackle and the door opens. A hint of relief is seen in Uraume’s eyes as they see you standing there, your face still not fully clean and the bruise still decorating your cheek.

“Did you find him?” they ask with anticipation in their voice. You exhale sharply, before tears pool in your eyes and you nod with a smile on your face. Uraume exhales and quickly puts their hand on your shoulder, motioning you to come in.

“I didn’t tell the others you were gone. But they definitely suspect it.” they say quietly, as you follow them through the halls. The other girls seem to be in their quarters already. Good for you, but you prepare yourself to be questioned by one or the other.

After arriving in your chambers, you carefully place the dagger and the bow and one arrow right next to your futon, earning an unreadable look from Uraume before they excuse themself to go into the kitchen. You thank them and while waiting for them, you take the chance to clean yourself off the remaining dirt and sweat thats stuck to your body. The bruise on your cheek still hurts and you hiss in pain when the wet cloth swipes over the damaged skin, as well as your burned knuckles.

After what seemed like an hour, Uraume comes back with a bowl.

Hot steam of a miso soup hits your nose and you blow to cool it a little before you take a sip. They must’ve just prepared it for you.

“He sent you back here.” they say quietly, looking out of the window of your room. You swallow your first sip.

“Yes. He is right about that, though.” you answer while blowing some more.

“He always is.” Uraume continues, their words making you smile at their trust to him. “How did he react?”

The hot bowl in your hands warms your heart as well, as you recall what happened.

“I met him on the battlefield. He was angry.” you huff quietly. “Never saw him so pissed before.”

Uraume nods, still looking out of the window.

A pause.

Your lips continue to move, first without sound. Your eyes quickly shoot to Uraume and back to the soup. A few seconds pass until you pick up the courage to say it.

“Then he kissed me.” you confess quietly with a beating heart.

Another pause.

Hearing no reaction from Uraume, you look up. They still look out the window, a hint of a content smile on their lips, as they seem to be in thought. Relief spreads in your gut, as they don’t seem to be affected in a negative way by what you just said. They almost seem… happy about it.

You take another sip of your soup.

“And your heartache?” they ask.

“Didn’t stop.” you answer. “But I think I can handle it better now.” They nod.

“I understand.”

“Thank you, Uraume.” you say sincerely. They turn around and make their way to the door of your chambers.

“Now that you’re back like you promised, you can get back to work in the morning.” their voice back to a more strict tone. You smile.

“I will. Thank you.” you assure them, before they leave your chambers.

The sound of a door sliding shut.

You’re alone again.

Silence.

A soft pull at your heart makes you put your hand on your chest.

“Shhh” you try to soothe it. You’re more than relieved to know the nature of this heartache, doesn’t make you scared anymore.

Laying down, you start to hum Sukuna’s melody and hum yourself to sleep with it.

Until…

the heartache wakes you up, ripping you out of your slumber, feeling more intense than usual. There’s a different note to it, almost feels like anger.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper to yourself as you hiss and bend in pain.

Why does it feel similar to that night back in december?

You try to forget and not remember what you heard that night, before you ran away. Breathing slowly, you try to soothe yourself, try not to worry, try to remember you’re his, the words he said and his lips on yours. Your heart is beating in your throat, while the pain reaches it’s peak and slowly decreases again. Sitting up, you drink a sip from the remaining broth next to your futon. The pain eases itself and you’re exhausted, sliding back into your sheets.

You wake up at sunrise. A heavy weight in your heart, but no pain.

Just come back to me.

You decide to get up quickly in order to pick up your work where you left off, not wanting to risk to piss off Uraume after they did you such a big favour.

Changing back into your kimono, you go out into the halls, fetching that bucket and sponge from the chamber. Your feet bring you outside into the garden to get some water. Looking around, you notice, that some of the bushes need a trimming and weeds spread in the ground too. Somehow you’re pleasantly surprised to see, that soon there will be other work for you, than just cleaning floors and cabinets. You’ve missed this garden.

Before you go to the well, you make your way through the garden to Sukuna’s chambers and slide his door open. While you’re at it, you hear a splash from behind you.

Oh no.

You turn around and see the maid who gave you the bowl of rice before Sukuna went to war. It’s not the last person you wanted to see, but seeing no person at all would’ve been better. Despite everything she’s done for you, caring for you when you were sick and giving you food when you needed, you’re careful to trust her.

Better don’t overshare, you think, as you brace yourself for a conversation. She’s fetching water from the well, as you make your way to her.

“You’re back.” she says, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Again.”

You sigh.

“I am.” you avoid her gaze.

“Don’t be too upset that I know. It was too obvious that Uraume didn’t ask us for those special food preparations anymore.” she says.

“Yea, well I guess they have better things to do.” you answer and she hums in agreement.

“Did you really think we would poison you?”

“I still do.” you answer with a smile while scratching some dirt off the stones of the well, making her sigh.

A pause. Wind moves the naked branches of the trees. Both of you watch the branches dance.

“They really let you go after him.” she says in thought, before she turns to you. “Did he do this?” she motions to the bruise on your cheek. You frown in disbelief.

“No?”

She hums, while you let down your own bucket.

Splash.

She huffs to herself.

“You truly must be someone special.” she smiles.

Here we go.

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean?” she asks. “Princess, are you really asking me that?” her tone shifts into an accusing one.

You look at her in confusion and open your mouth.

So it wasn’t a coincidence.

“We know.” she says before you can voice anything. “The blind girl told us everything she heard, while you enjoyed his dicks on the throne, when she had the insides of her eyes running down her face.”

She makes it sound like it was your fault and you turn your gaze away.

“He uses pet names all the time.” you brush it off. “Probably wasn’t the first one he fucked on that throne and I most surely wasn’t the first one to stay in my lane instead of helping some stranger. I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

You feel her tensing up at your words, while you’re heaving up your bucket full of water.

“You really don’t know do you?” she asks, making you look at her in confusion.

“Know what?”

“I know I’ve told you, that he has favourites… but this is different. I’ve never seen him doing anything for anyone, yet he vanishes for days just to bring your jealous ass back into this shrine. Others ran away before and he just let them die and rot outside these walls, not moving an inch for them. I’ve never heard him call a maid anything other than bitch or slut. He most probably doesn’t even remember our names, if he even asked. I’ve never heard of anyone being allowed to act so freely around him like I saw you do during the audience. You’re allowed to look at him, to touch him. Just like that, without asking first. She said he told you to look at him after he asked you to ride him?” her voice breaks a little. “He pushes our faces into the sheets while he fucks us from behind as if we are a piece of meat.”

What?

The ground beneath you seems to slip away. You have a hard time to comprehend what she’s saying. Yes, you did think you were special, one of his favourites, but not in this way. Not at all. Not even with the curse he put on you.

If this is true, then he really might be…

“If he just uses you as a piece of meat, why do you continue to worship him then?” you ask, making her huff, her eyes growing wet.

“You already know the answer to that. He makes you feel wanted in a sick and twisted and addicting way. However, that changed when you came along. He started to neglect us. Now everyone is fucking with each other even when he’s here, seeking the company of our King with each others bodies.”

“It’s not my fault.” you whisper, while she keeps talking.

“So please tell me.” her voice turns sincere “What are you to him?” her eyes pierce into yours, desperate for an answer.

A pause.

You don’t know what to tell her and nervousness spreads in your gut and face. She notices and her eyes widen, as if it clicked in her mind.

“He kissed you.” she adds in a whisper.

Your breath hitches, not sure what to say, not knowing what this is supposed to mean, feeling like she caught you redhanded. A stressed look paints your face, hearing all she says, hearing all the things he’s done for you presented like his dinner on a plate, before you regain control.

“I don’t know what I am to him.” you finally say, so sincere, hoping she would understand. “But he is everything to me.”

She nods, before you continue.

“I am his.”

“So he claimed you.” she whispers. “Telling you the words everyone yearns to hear but never did.”

Never did?

Your heart is pounding and you shake your head in confusion.

“What do those words mean if he hasn’t spoken the words that I yearn to hear.” you answer, trying to play it down. “I am his, but he isn’t mine.”

“Sometimes…” she says calmly, while stepping away from you. “…words don’t need to be spoken to be true.”

An ache in your heart, as you muster her face, seeing that her very heart seems to be broken and you can’t help to feel sorry for her. Reaching out, you grab her hand to stop her. You feel a lump in your throat.

“Why do you condemn me for his actions?” you whisper desperately. She looks at you for a moment, before she speaks.

“Because being in your place is something we all sought and now because of you, we won’t find it here either.” she answers, slipping her hand out of yours.

You’re stunned, while she leaves without saying another word. Again, you’re reminded that they’re not just angry and jealous, but also heartbroken. Everyone came here with their own story, so similar and yet so different to yours, seeking a place to belong, only to be disappointed again. Disappointed by a man which energy is so addicting and gravitating. You know how it feels. You know it so well.

And you feel sorry, because you understand.

Some tears are dripping down your face, while you force yourself to understand, that there’s nothing you can do about it. If you are truly what she accuses you to be, if you are truly the only one he desires, his love, then you won’t give up what you achieved. You lived your whole life after the likes of everyone around you, needing to place your needs and wants below everything else to survive.

You just want to be you. To be truly you. To be with him. And if it’s true, if you made him fall in love with being you, if the King of Curses truly fell in love with you, then so be it.

You stand there a few minutes, thinking about the conversation you just had, picking at the old wood of the bucket, before you take it and walk into Sukuna’s chamber.

While you’re scrubbing his floor and clean his room, you keep thinking about the things she said about him. How rough he’s been to others, how gentle he is to you.

Telling me and only me “you’re mine”?

You remember what he said before he even fucked you the first time, how he ridiculed you for wanting him to claim and fuck you. Then how needy he ordered you to ask him to be his, while he was balls deep in your holes. The way he called you a fool in the very night you ran away. You didn’t know. But it’s true.

I was a fool.

I was special from the very beginning.

Why?

Your heart starts aching and it continues while you finish to clean his room.

I want to talk to him.

Come back.

You finish cleaning the halls and throne room as well. No one cleaned here in your absence, which you are happy about, because there is actual dust to clean off the floor and walls. A rumble in your stomach reminds you of a mortal need you wish not to have.

Hunger.

You decide to finish your work for today and make your way into the kitchen. There’s no way you can live like this, in fear. If it’s true what she said, then if they hurt you, he’s going to hurt them too.

At least you hope he would.

You’re building up the courage to face those heartbroken souls.

I can’t live like this until he comes back.

With a heavy beating heart, your trembling hand raises to knock at the kitchen door.

Knock

Knock

Knock

No response, however you heard maids being inside.

You brace yourself and slowly open the door. Everyone stops what they’re doing. The bitch is there, as well as the maid you talked to earlier and three others, including the blind one, which you haven’t seen since it all happened.

Silence.

“What are you doing here?” the bitch speaks.

“Who’s there?” the blind one asks.

“The princess.” you and the bitch say simultaneously, making her frown in surprise.

“Listen.” you continue. “I’m sorry for how Master Sukuna treats you. And I understand why you’re pissed at me. I really do and I would be, too. Hell, I would even contemplate to poison me, if I were you.” your words make the bitch cock her eyebrows at you. “However, even if that’s not your intention, I know I’m a fucking burden for you. I will avoid crossing paths with you. Uraume won’t ask you for food again. I only ask you to let me use the kitchen after sunset.”

Silence.

Your right hand fiddles nervously with the fabric of the sleeve of your kimono, while you stare into everyone faces, waiting for an answer.

The lips of the bitch turn into a curl before she bursts out laughing. Another maid joins her. The rest stays silent. After a moment you nod and turn around, ready to leave.

“Fine.” the maid who you talked to earlier suddenly says, cutting off the hysterical laughter.

“No way.” the bitch exclaims, while you turn back around. The bitch is looking in disbelief at the maid.

“Shut up.” she says, silencing the bitch. “If she is to Master Sukuna what she seems to be, letting her starve in his absence may not be the wisest decision.”

The bitch slams her fist on the table and gets up, stomping her way past you and spitting on the ground right next to you.

The maid gets up as well and walks right up to you.

“I understand you, too.” she says quietly and it surprises you. “I allow you to use the kitchen after sunset. Only after sunset.” something intimidating in her voice but you try to brush it off.

“Thank you.” you say, before walking out.

You held your word and so did they.

After sunsets you would sneak into the kitchen, even trying not to use too many ingredients that were stored there, to make yourself a small meal. There was no need to talk to Uraume about the food, since you were actually feeding yourself and not losing weight.

Sometimes there were not many ingredients left and you blamed the bitch for hiding some of it on purpose. It would get hard to work during the day with an empty stomach. Sometimes the day seemed to get longer and longer the more hungry you got.

That’s why you started to take apples with you, only to have something to snack on in the morning. And all in all, it worked. You survived, without losing too much weight, staying healthy at least.

Sometimes you would cross paths with another maid and when you did, you looked away, going into the other direction, minding something else first. You tried your best to avoid everything and everyone. Just waiting for a better time.

Sometimes the heartache grew unbearable again, making you unable to work. However, the heartache itself didn’t crush you the way it did before you went to seek him out. Knowing the true nature of it now, you stayed calm. Sometimes you hummed his melody to soothe yourself. And maybe him, too.

To your luck, Uraume let your painful days slide, knowing how bad it could be for you. And you tried your best not to disappoint them, getting up as soon as you could to fulfill your duties. Sometimes the heartache pierced through your chest. This bad and angry pain, that reminds you of that night. Five times it pierced through you, you kept counting, because it was so painful and different. You didn’t tell Uraume, knowing their powers couldn’t change anything anyway.

And sometimes you would cry yourself to sleep, begging him to come home to you. To put and end to all this waiting. To just be there with you.

Soon you could start working in the garden again, cutting off branches and pulling out weeds like you used to. You liked this type of work more than cleaning. Keeping the garden fresh and neat.

And you waited and waited.

Sometimes you even dreamed of seeking him out again. Without the purpose of coming back. Just leaving it all behind. With him. But you didn’t.

You waited and waited. Day after day.

That was what your life became. Waiting for him. In this shithole of shrine.

And you waited and waited. Bearing your heartache and his.

For two more months you waited.

April came upon you, the weather got better and the cherry trees in the garden started to bloom. The grass got greener, the water in the pond clearer, painting reflections of the sunlight on the wooden bridge that is hovering over the surface.

Snip.

You’re cutting off a branch that’s growing too far into the space that takes up Sukunas door. Today you feel empty.

How much longer?

A thing you ask yourself every single day.

Snip.

Another branch.

Snip.

Another.

You have asked Uraume if it would be possible to get some Nishikigois for the pond. They didn’t seem to happy about your request, since those are pretty expensive, but they agreed to consider it. That was a week ago and you wonder, if they have decided yet.

You look up and watch the sunlight fall through the pink blossoms of the cherry trees, the very same pink shade of the hair you cut a few months ago.

Heartache.

A soft breeze lets the branches move and the light dances even more between the spaces of those pink blossoms. You inhale the fresh air and continue your day, snacking here and then on an apple you took with you last night. The sun wanders and another day without him returning passes. The sky paints itself in multiple shades of red and yellow during the sunset and you sigh, closing the doors to his chambers.

Suddenly you hear a loud noise from the halls. Something heavy falling on the floor. Out of instinct you rush inside, not considering that it has to be one of the other maids, you pledged to avoid contact with. But maybe a part of you hoped it would be Sukuna.

You run inside, only to see the bitch laying on the floor, an empty wooden bucket running a slow circle right next to her. She must’ve tripped on the damp floor you cleaned a few minutes ago. You hesitate, contemplate about helping her. She looks up and sees you.

“Fuck.” she curses under her breath, before looking away again.

“Do you need help?” you calmly ask her.

She groans in pain and slowly gets back on her feet. Considering her missing response to you, you turn on your heels in order to walk back to your chambers.

“Wait.” she says breathlessly. You stop.

“Sorry for not drying the floor. I didn’t expect someone to walk these halls at this time.” you say without turning around.

“Shut up.” she growls, making your eyes roll.

“What is it?” you turn around, finally facing her.

“I noticed something.” she smiles at you with a smile that you want to rip out of her face. You cock your eyebrows at her.

“You’re looking good. I haven’t seen you in a while, but apparently only being allowed in the kitchen once a day after sunset doesn’t do you much harm.” she says, acting like she truly admires your looks. “Even when nothing much was left, you are holding up pretty good. Look at that shiny hair!” she continues, touching a strand of your hair, making you shy away from her. You’re tensing up at her words, trying to ignore her remarks.

“Did you take so much care of yourself, hoping that Sukuna will still cherish you after all this time? Call you pretty maybe?”

“What are you talking about?” you frown at her.

“Oh you didn’t know?” she giggles, taking a step closer to you. “You know… hehe and I do know that you know: Our King grows bored of individuals pretty fast. Not only here in the shrine, but also whenever he was gone, he would search to get his satisfaction otherwise, sometimes even bringing home some woman, because she was promised to him as a prize.” she whispers. “Just like me.”

Your eyes widen and your heart is pounding at her words, knowing she’s just telling you this to provoke you.

Or does she?

You grow nervous, remembering that heartache that’s different from the others, remembering the anger you felt that night when you heard…

“What would you do if he comes back and didn’t fuck you the way he would before. He always finds someone else he would also consider his favourite. Believe me, I’ve outlived some of them. And whatever little thing you have going on with him, I have to admit it truly is special, but…no matter what he did with you or told you, I assure you he will grow bored of you as well.” she continues. “Maybe, just maybe, he hasn’t come back yet, because he found someone else to play his little game with.” she coos in pity. “The real challenge is not to become one of his favourites, but to keep that place. Maybe that’s why I’m still here. Maybe the way I fell into his hands is better than yours. Being a prize is better than being garbage.” she spits.

You clench your jaw, can’t help to feel extremely stressed about what she said. Because you know he would be capable of it. He’s shown you before. But it’s her and things have changed. So much happened between you and him. The curse, the kiss, his words. It’s just her trying to provoke you, her words contradicting what the other maid told you two months ago, to make you feel less of yourself. A lump grows in your throat, the fear of what she’s saying to be true too big, as you just keep staring into the face you want to pierce with his dagger and your arrow.

Heartache.

It grows dark outside, the last light is about to vanish, as suddenly

Bang!

the doors to the halls fly open.

Both of you jump and look to the door. Your eyes widen, the colour falls from your face and with a dry mouth and a banging heart, his name falls on your whispering tongue.

“Sukuna!”