#ComfortFluff

[ayawriteshsr]

Hi! Can i ask about writing Jing Yuan x cat hybrid reader? Gn afab or fem, who has been harassed because of that fact? They are also insecure about their body because of that. Have nice day/ night

Summary: You’ve always been different—born with feline features that set you apart. Your cat-like ears and tail are often a source of teasing and hurtful comments, and you've become accustomed to hiding your insecurities. But Jing Yuan, kind and understanding, doesn’t see your differences; he sees you. When you find yourself overwhelmed by the harsh words of others, he’s there to remind you that you’re beautiful just the way you are.

The streets of Xianzhou Luofu were alive with their usual bustle—merchants calling out, lively chatter filling the air, and the occasional clang of metal from the Cloud Knights stationed nearby. You kept your head down, ears tucked beneath your hood, tail wrapped securely around your waist to avoid drawing attention. But no matter how much you tried to hide, the whispers always found their way to you.

"Look at them..."

"Feline? Must be a freak experiment gone wrong."

"I heard they have to keep their tail hidden because it's too distracting."

Your chest tightened as you quickened your pace, each comment slicing through your fragile self-esteem. It wasn’t the first time you had heard such things, but today, they hit harder than usual. You barely made it back to your quarters before your hands began to tremble, claws digging into the fabric of your sleeves.

You slumped onto your bed, curling in on yourself as your tail flicked involuntarily in frustration. Why couldn't you just be... normal?

A soft knock at the door startled you, and you hastily wiped your eyes, attempting to compose yourself.

"(Y/N), it's me."

Jing Yuan's voice was calm and reassuring, but you hesitated. He always had a way of reading you too well, and you weren’t sure if you could face him right now.

"I... I'm fine," you replied, voice barely above a whisper.

There was a brief pause before the door creaked open slightly, revealing his familiar figure. His golden eyes, usually filled with mirth, held a gentle concern today. He stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind him before sitting beside you on the edge of the bed.

"You're not fine," he said simply, offering his hand instead of reaching for you directly.

You stared at his open palm, your cat ears twitching under your hood. Slowly, hesitantly, you placed your hand in his. He enveloped it gently, his warmth seeping into your cold fingers.

"Did something happen?" he asked, voice patient, as if he had all the time in the world to listen.

You swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the floor. "People were talking again... about me. About what I am." Your tail flicked, betraying your agitation. "I hate it, Ji. I hate how they look at me. Like I'm some... unnatural thing."

Jing Yuan let out a soft sigh, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles against your hand. "You are anything but unnatural."

You shook your head, pulling your hand back. "You don't get it... I try to ignore it, but I can't help feeling like... like I don't belong."

Silence hung between you both for a moment before he spoke again, his tone unwavering. "(Y/N), do you know what I see when I look at you?"

You blinked, hesitating. "What?"

"I see someone kind, brave, and uniquely beautiful." He reached out, brushing your hood down gently, letting your feline ears twitch freely in the open air. "I see ears that perk up when you're excited, a tail that curls around me when you're comfortable. And I see someone who brings warmth wherever they go."

Your ears flicked involuntarily at his words, and Jing Yuan smiled softly, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I happen to find all of it quite endearing, you know."

You couldn't help the small, wobbly smile that tugged at your lips. "You're just saying that."

"I'm a general, (Y/N). I don't have time to say things I don't mean," he teased lightly, before his expression softened once more. "Don't let the words of others steal the beauty of who you are."

You felt your throat tighten, but this time it wasn't from sadness. Slowly, you leaned into him, allowing yourself to take solace in his presence. His arm wrapped around you securely, and for once, you didn't mind the closeness.

"Thank you," you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

Jing Yuan chuckled softly, resting his chin atop your head. "Always. And if anyone dares to say otherwise... I'll have to remind them of their place, won't I?"

[badlucksav]

The Fire and the Flood

Rating: M

Chapters: 20/?

Relationships:

Katara/Zuko (Avatar)Jet/Katara (Avatar)Sokka/Suki (Avatar)Aang/Toph BeifongKanna/Pakku (Avatar)

Characters:

Zuko (Avatar)Katara (Avatar)Iroh (Avatar)Hakoda (Avatar)Sokka (Avatar)Suki (Avatar)Toph BeifongAang (Avatar)The Gaang (Avatar)Azula (Avatar)Ty Lee (Avatar)Mai (Avatar)Ozai (Avatar)Kanna (Avatar)Original CharactersOriginal Male Character(s)Sela (Avatar)Bato (Avatar)Bumi (Avatar)Toph Beifong's ParentsJet (Avatar)

Additional Tags:

Hurt Zuko (Avatar)Zuko (Avatar)-centricEventual Katara/Zuko (Avatar)POV Zuko (Avatar)Zuko is an Awkward TurtleduckProtective Zuko (Avatar)Zuko's Scar (Avatar)Stubborn Katara (Avatar)POV Katara (Avatar)One-sided Aang/Katara (Avatar)Katara (Avatar)-centricSlow Burn Katara/Zuko (Avatar)Iroh (Avatar) is a Good UncleIroh (Avatar) loves TeaProtective Iroh (Avatar)Azula (Avatar) Needs a HugOzai (Avatar) Being a Terrible ParentOzai (Avatar) is an AssholeUrsa (Avatar) is a Good ParentHakoda (Avatar) is a Good ParentParental Hakoda (Avatar)Alternate Universe - Modern SettingModern EraAlternate Universe - Modern: No PowersAlternate Universe - College/UniversityAlternate Universe - Coffee Shops & CafésHurt/ComfortAngst and Hurt/ComfortFluff and Hurt/ComfortRomanceEventual RomanceAngst with a Happy EndingImplied/Referenced Rape/Non-conCheatingBreak UpMental Health IssuesDeathImplied/Referenced Character DeathDepressionGrief/MourningBased on a Taylor Swift Song

Summary: Katara has lived in the same town with the same people her whole life, and since the death of her mother, she feels like her life has been on hold. But then she meets Zuko, an intriguing stranger, and everything changes.

[Image ID: image shows Zuko, sitting on the left hand side of the photo showing his right side, and Katara on the right hand side, of a diner table. Katara is wearing a hoodie and her hair is in a messy bun. She is resting her chin on her hand and is smiling softly at Zuko. Zuko, who has short cropped hair, wears a flannel shirt. His chin is also resting on his hand, and he is smiling softly at Katara. Cherry blossom branches decorate the background. The table has two glasses, a napkin holder, salt and pepper shakers, and ketchup and mustard bottles. The image color is monochrome]

[theoakleafpancake]

I’ve got this uploaded somewhere else, too, but I decided to try out ao3 🤷🏽‍♀️

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: MultiOther

Fandom: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan

Relationships: Halt O'Carrick & Will TreatyHorace Altman/Cassandra | EvanlynGilan & Halt O'CarrickPauline duLacy/Halt O'CarrickAlyss Mainwaring/Will TreatyJennifer "Jenny" Dalby/Gilan

Characters: Will TreatyHalt O'CarrickPauline duLacyJennifer "Jenny" DalbyAlyss MainwaringCassandra | EvanlynHorace AltmanBaron Arald (Ranger's Apprentice)Rodney (Ranger's Apprentice)Gilan (Ranger's Apprentice)Duncan (Ranger's Apprentice)

Additional Tags: ReactionHurt/ComfortAngst and Hurt/ComfortFluff and HumorFriendship

Language: English

Series: Part 1 of the Ranger's Apprentice Character Reaction series

[alexthefly]

This is one of my favourites of yours. All the whumpy goodness, plus brotherly ComfortFluff. It's just...

::snuggles this fic::

“Goddamnit, Virgil, strap yourself in!”

“If I don’t fix this, we are both dead.”

Virgil had his head inside Thunderbird Two’s control panel while Scott desperately tried to keep them level, ever so low over thick forest.

They had lost both VTOL and main thruster control thanks to yet another Fischler invention. The little mobile solar collector had been attracted to TB2’s rear thrusters and had shown that attraction by flying into one, despite Virgil’s desperate manoeuvres. The resultant explosion had taken out not only that thruster, but interfered with its partner. The electrical shock had travelled through her circuitry and disabled VTOL control in the process. The only reason they were still airborne was because Virgil knew his own ‘bird so well, he had been able to get her into a glide long enough to dig into her circuitry and slap together some partial control.

They were going down in any case. It was just a matter of how badly.

Scott felt the controls wallow in the lightest of crosswinds, the missing roar of his brother’s bird as bad as a missing heartbeat.

There was a muffled expletive, a yelp, and suddenly VTOL roared to life.

But only the two front thrusters fired. Scott struggled to keep her in the air. Treetops began to scrape across her underside. “Virgil, strap in!”

And they went down.

-o-o-o-

Scott sat on the lounge and stared at his brother.

Virgil had slipped sideways on the couch and curled himself up in the corner against the armrest, snoring softly. Dressed in his usual red flannel, but barefoot and in shorts, he looked young and vulnerable. A bandage clung to his forehead, emphasising the deep purple of a black eye and tousling his hair into a more of a spike than usual. One arm was in a cast and his red flannel shirt was unbuttoned, the familiar grey undershirt missing, leaving bare skin mottled with bruising and the strapping required for broken ribs.

His little brother was the sleeping wounded, but it was thanks to him that they were alive.

-o-o-o-

Thunderbird Two was the toughest ‘bird of them all. Her cahelium hull was designed to withstand the rugged heavy lifting to which she was continually subjected. But she was not strong enough to take the repeated beating of ancient hardwoods. Eventually her momentum was no longer enough to keep her going and a great tree stood firm. There was the godawful screech of wood versus metal and her path was warped, the whole plane spinning sideways.

And a ripping groan as her port-side wing was dismembered.

Scott clung on for dear life, praying what little control he had was enough. Beside him, Virgil staggered away from the open control panel, clinging to every purchase hold he could find, making for his pilot’s seat.

Until that final massive tree said no.

Thunderbird Two came to a sudden and violent halt.

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