#after so many years and ages of fears and cages

[boyczar]

it’s so deep that i don’t think i can speak about it

[spider-stark]

THE GOLD TANKARD

Benjicot Blackwood x Smallfolk!Reader

Summary - Benji is a regular at the tavern you work at—and you're starting to think he's forgetting his coin on purpose.

Warnings - fem!reader, kieran burton fan cast, all characters 18+, suggestive/sexual language, not edited bc I'm lazy and wrote this for fun in like an hour

Word Count - 650+

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

The Gold Tankard was a shit-house of an inn. Famous mostly for its basement-tavern, it had been built ages ago in the heart of Pennytree—a derelict village lying smack in the center of the disputed border of House Blackwood and House Bracken. 

After many, many years of existence, the Tankard has fallen into a blatant state of decay. Cracks spiderweb up the side of stone walls, woodworms infest the cedar roof overhead, and the carpets are stained with beer and piss and gods-knows-what-else. 

Still, it remains in-business—bringing in coin from the many knights and men traveling through Pennytree, so desperate for a hot meal and a bed that they’re willing to overlook the scuttling bugs and musty aroma. 

And being the resident barmaid isn’t so bad, you suppose. 

At least, not when Benjicot Blackwood is a near-nightly patron of the Tankard. While he's forever forgetting his copper, he's always quite creative in finding other ways to pay for your service—and you have found the Lord to be quite talented with his tongue… 

His grip tight, Benji drags you up the dimly lit stairs leading from the tavern to the narrow halls of the inn above. 

“M’lord,” the title slips past your lips, giggling as you protest, “my shift isn’t over! The girls will be needing me behind the bar and–” 

Benji cuts you off with a groan. Tugging your wrist, he shoves your back flush against the chilly stone wall, caging your body with his. “Is that all you care about? What the girls need?” He leans in close, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. “What about what I need?” 

Pure, unbridled lust dilates his pupils, his storm-cloud eyes nearly devoid of color as they drag over your face. They snag on your lips—and, instinctively, he rolls his hips against yours, a growing hardness pressed to your thigh. 

“I care about getting paid,” you choke out, clawing at the remaining shreds of your composure. “Not all customers are as mingy with their coin as you, M’lord.” 

Warmth fans across your cheeks as Benji huffs a laugh. “So you think I’m mingy, do you?” 

A scowl twists your features, heat rushing to your cheeks. You can tell from his tone—so impish and cheeky—that he’s poking fun at you. What word would a highborn girl have used, then? Oh, you’re so frugal M’lord! So utterly parsimonious! 

Shoving against his weight, you grind out, “I have work to tend to, M’lord–” 

Benji’s grip on you tightens, his other hand coming to cradle the side of your head, fingers weaving themselves into your hair as he presses you back against the wall—harder this time. 

“Oh, don’t be so sensitive, love,” he tuts, lips grazing against your cheekbone, leaving soft kisses in their wake. “You know how I adore your little commonors dialect.” 

Your eyes narrow, frustration bubbling up inside of you. 

“If you wish to insult someone, then I may suggest the whorehouse down the street, M’lord. Barmaids are not forced to endure such abuse—especially from unpaying customers.” 

“Abuse?” Benji’s breath tickles your ear, a shiver crawling down your spine. “Is that what I’m doing?” He pauses, teeth nipping at your earlobe. Your breath catches, and you feel him smirk as he purrs, “Abusing you?” 

Your pulse races, your heart hammering against your chest so fiercely that you fear Benji can feel it, his chest pressed firm against yours. You feel dizzy and off-balance, unable to think of anything other than him—his fingers twined in your hair, his lips on your jaw, his cock against your thigh. 

You feel it waning—the last bits of your composure, torn to ribbons under his touch. It’s only when his mouth comes to rest against yours, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, that you finally give in. 

Between strangled moans, you say, “You’ll have to be quick."

Benji’s grin is painfully arrogant as he rolls his hips again. “Oh, baby—” a low, raspy chuckle sets a fire in your belly—“quick isn’t in my vocabulary.” 

a/n - idk man I can't write smut so this where it ends I guess lmao. kinda wanna explore more with this reader cause I like the idea of a lil barmaid and benji but we'll see!

as stated in warnings, this wasn't edited in the slightest and I wrote it super quick last night, so apologies for any errors!

tag list 🫶🖤 - @bearwithegg @jacaerysgf @lenasvoid @valdezthg @xzydra11 @snixx2088 @lianna75 @kennafild @ghostinvenus @heystaystray @but-i-write-so-i-must-count @a-song-for-ages @nixtape-foryou @kezibear

[gor3-hound]

ETERNITY — SUGURU GETO

a/n: hiii !! first geto fic on this account maybe?? shocker bcs i love him so bad... commission for @nexysworld !! love her so bad, pls check her out <3

cw: 18+ content, father-daughter incest, possessive behaviour, sheltered reader, mildly dubious consent, yandere-ish themes, very teeny tiny amount of religious themes, too. p in v, creampie, brief choking

Suguru Geto is not a man you would consider to be unkind, but there was very little affection within his actions. Your father was often patient with you - strict, but forgiving. When he touched you, it was always cold and clinical; always born out of necessity. 

Your mother had always been irrelevant to him, nothing more than a means to an end. That just so happened to be you, his daughter, and one and only heir. He had sensed the cursed energy within you the moment you were born, and he took you in to raise you on his own. He had no need for that woman anymore - she had served her purpose and bestowed him with a gift greater than any other.

Your life was free of troubles. Perhaps you did not get to play with the village children, but that was alright. You were allowed to play with the others within the compound. His followers were always kind to you, if not somewhat on edge in your presence. You did not understand it then, but now you realised the apprehension they held did not stem from your actions, but from fear of upsetting your father. You had been sheltered, yes, but you found you did not crave much else. You were well-fed, well looked after… It was hard to feel caged when the compound was all you had known.

Your youthful naivety could not last forever, and Suguru knew this. He dreaded your growth with each passing year, waiting for the questions that would come. He could keep you from the outside world, but he could not keep the outside world from you. He had many visitors, people looking to be cured of their ailments. He could keep you from watching these interactions, but he could see the way your curious eyes shone as you watched them come and go.

You asked him about the outside world only once, shortly after he had ‘cured’ a young child. You had been excited to see someone closer to your age, but his words quickly shut you down.

“The child has been plagued with demons,” He had told you simply, eyes cold as he glanced down at you. “I can keep them at bay, yes. But it would not do you well to socialise with others such as him. They will corrupt you.”

It had not convinced you entirely, and he could see that in your eyes. With a small frown, he kneeled before you, tilting his head to the side. “I extracted one from him. Would you like to see it?”

You nodded, as expected. Hopeful curiosity glimmering in your eyes, the idea of being shown something new and dangerous exciting to you. He sighs, allowing the cursed spirit he had absorbed free. He had no worry - he knew it was safely under his control. But he could see the fear in your eyes as it stalked towards you, the way you instinctively backed up, glancing at your father for protection.

“Daddy-” 

He lets its maw open inches from your body, the acrid stench of its breath filling the room as it goes to attack. He watches, unblinking, as you tremble and beg for his help, tears streaming down your face. Even still, he waits a few more seconds before driving his cursed tool through the spirit, exorcising it with ease.

“Do you see now why I cannot let you outside? It is far too dangerous for you.” You nod, clinging to him as you sob into the fabric of his robes. He lets you, holding you close to him. “I do not wish to see you hurt. Promise me you won’t ask to leave the compound again.”

“I promise.”

The years pass, and you do not dare mention leaving the compound again. Even as you reach adulthood, the memory of the demon you faced as a child keeps you biting back any requests of more freedom.

Something in your father has changed - you’re not sure what it is, but it leaves you with a lingering sense of unease whenever you cross his path. His gaze has become sharper, watching your every movement like he’s waiting for something. What it is, you’re unsure of. Your pulse is constantly racing when you’re forced to be in his proximity for more than a few seconds, but your brain can’t register what it is about him that’s making you so tense.

Your realisation comes to you slowly. You’ve seen that look before in some of them men that have wandered around the compound. Not directed at you, but you’re able to identify it all the same. 

Hunger.

Your realisation doesn’t come with any changes in his actions, but you can see in the subtle curve of his lips that he knows. He can sense that you act differently around him. Geto is an intelligent man, and it’s clear he planned for you to find out from the start. Months pass by without any changes in routine. You rarely see your father unless he deems it necessary to address you, his followers often being the ones responsible for ensuring you attend meals and stay within the compound.

Then, suddenly, he comes to you.

It’s the middle of the night when he wakes you with a gentle caress on your cheek. It’s one of the most affectionate touches he’s given you since you were a little girl, fingertips gently brushing over your cheekbones. When you meet his eyes, your heart stops beating for a moment.

His gaze is anything but kind. His jaw is set tight, and in that moment you realised how naive you were to think ignoring his glances would be enough to keep him at bay. Seeing your eyes widen with fear is enough for a sharp grin to spread across his face, his hand shifting to grasp at your hair, tilting your head back harshly.

“You're looking so beautiful these days, sweetheart.” Suguru murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, free hand grasping at your hip. “I thought about resisting my impulses, but it’s as if you were made to tempt me. Pure, kind, beautiful. Forbidden fruit is always said to be the sweetest, but I had never thought temptation would come to me in the form of my very own daughter.”

You stiffen under him, hands pushing at his chest. He tuts disapprovingly, his fingers slackening as he pulls his hand from your hair. Suguru slides his fingers down the side of your neck, delicately wrapping around your throat before he squeezes.

“Shh, calm down. It’s only me, bunny.” He purrs the nickname, one he has not used in years in an attempt to soften you, It works, momentarily, but your muscles still feel fraught with tension. He leans down, fingers tightening around your neck in a warning as he presses his lips to yours.

His mouth is hot against yours as he kisses you. He keeps the pace leisurely, almost teasing as he presses his chapped lips against yours, tongue coaxing your lips open. The hand on your hip slides under your shirt in a way that makes you jolt, immediately breaking the kiss.

“Daddy, wait-”

Suguru scoffs, raising a brow at you. “That makes you sound so childish. You're a big girl now, aren't you?”

“D-Dad?” You correct, feeling yourself squirm under his harsh gaze.

“Better.” He breathes out, lowering his head once more to lathe his tongue along the flesh of your throat, licking hotly at your quickening pulse beneath the skin. The hand on your bare slides higher, dragging the fabric of your shirt up until he’s cupping your breast, thumb brushing gently over your nipple. You gasp softly at the pleasure it brings, something that brings an unfamiliar heat searing through your veins as wetness pools in the gusset of your panties.

He grins at the gasp he draws from your lips, teeth gently nipping at your skin as he releases your throat. His thumb flicks over your nipple once more as he drags his other hand down, moving to feel the wetness seeping through your underwear.

“I promised I’d protect you, bunny, and I meant it.” He murmurs, tracing a finger down the middle of the dampened fabric. He feels you tremble as he brushes over your clit, so he presses down gently to hear you whimper.

“I meant it,” he repeats, “I won’t hurt you, I just want you to feel good. You trust me, don’t you?

It’s a question, but it sounds more like a threat. You felt that familiar sense of unease in the back of your mind. You hadn’t experienced these things before, but you weren’t clueless.  You knew this was wrong, that he shouldn’t be touching you like this, but as his thumb replaces his finger so he could gently rub circles into your clit, your apprehension melts.

“Good girl.” He praises, words smooth and sweet. His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, and he slowly slides them down your legs. His eyes hone in on your cunt, slick with arousal that he caused. “Look at you.”

Shame burns your face as you close your thighs, attempting to hide yourself from his view. Suguru grabs your knees, prying your thighs away before sliding his body between them to keep them from closing again.

“What’s wrong? You said you trusted me, bunny. Why are you trying to hide from me?”

“I wasn’t, I… I’m sorry.” You reply, gaze dropping nervously. Your heart pounds almost painfully in your chest, feeling more ashamed for disappointing your father.

“I don’t want to punish you, darling. Don’t you want to be good for me?” He says quietly, his tone almost condescending. He doesn’t wait for a reply before he sinks a finger into your tight cunt, a groan rumbling his chest as he feels you squeezing the digit. “Such an innocent little thing. So tight and wet.”

Suguru pulls back briefly only to remove his clothing, settling between your legs once more. His thumb presses down the base of his cock, allowing himself to align the tip with your dripping hole. “This may hurt at first, but you need to relax for me. Can you be a good girl?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, voice soft and nervous. Suguru presses forward, sliding himself inch by inch inside of your tight heat until his cock is pressed to your cervix. Tears prick at your eyes from the sudden burn, your chest heaving with heavy breaths as he pauses to allow you to adjust to his size.

“Shh, shh. You’ll be alright, bunny. Your body was made for me, after all. It will feel good soon.” He promises, gently rocking his hips. “My sweet girl. I’d never have another have you like this. No, it has to be me. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.”

He tries to be gentle with you - he has no intention to hurt his sweet little girl - but the way you squeeze around him feels divine. He’s sure he’s never felt anything so perfect before, feeling as though he’s being driven mad as your slick walls cling to his cock, sucking him greedily every time he starts to pull out. Suguru is not one to lose control, but he can’t find it within himself to hold back as he starts to fuck into you with earnest, pounding you into the mattress until you’re crying out with every thrust.

His hand falls to rest on your pelvis, thumb brushing your clit in a way that makes you mewl, arching into his touch. He grunts as you squeeze tighter around his cock, his hips stuttering as he rubs circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips buck, and he slams into you harder, bruising your cervix each time his hips snap forward. You’re so tight and warm and perfect around him, and he’s not sure how much longer he’s going to last inside of you.

He watches through hooded, lust-glazed eyes as your body coils up tight, the prettiest moans and whimpers spilling from your hips as you come undone around his length. His teeth clench at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, the grip on your hip turning bruising as he fucks into you erratically, chasing his own release. His hips stutter before he stills, spilling deep inside of you with a low groan. His eyes squeeze shut, hand falling away from your clit to grip the sheets as he floods you with his cum.

“There we go, bunny.” He murmurs softly as he returns to himself, slowly pulling out of you. He sighs shakily, brushing some hair from your face. “You’re mine forever, darling. I’m never letting you stray from my side.” 

His tone alone assures you his words are a promise.

[multific]

Soft and Smooth

Yautja x Reader

You were only a child when you were taken, you don't even remember your parents much.

You remember the fear that you felt. You remember the chains and the cage you were put in. But nothing much.

You grew up amongst Yautja.

You were a slave to a family of them.

A father, a mother and four younglings.

You served them.

And you served them right.

It was all you knew after all.

One day, your tribe was attacked, you were only a teenager when it happened.

The family you served suffered greatly, the mother and a youngling lost their lives. It was tragic.

Since you grew up with them, you learned their language but somehow you still couldn't always understand them. You were really good at reading but when they talked, you couldn't understand many things.

But you did understand that when you reached a young adult age, your master wanted to sell you to be prey for the next hunt.

You simply overheard their conversation.

His sons only arrived back from a hunt themselves, they all got their first kill and your master was very proud of them.

One, in particular, was extremely against the idea of giving you up. He was the oldest of the sons, T'un'tou.

You often heard how great of a warrior he was.

He lived on his own by now, but often visited his father.

Since he was the oldest, he moved out a while ago now, even got his first kill a while back. 

Sometimes Yautja was an extremely confusing species. Other times, all of their actions made the most sense.

Like now, you were confused.

T'un'tou took you to his ship and told you that you are his now.

But he didn't say, slave or human.

Just his.

And now you were off to a new home to serve a new master.

But T'un'tou was very different from his father.

Your years living with him were short. He was already out of the home when you were just beginning to grow into the woman that you were today.

You didn't know much about him, and you couldn't recall much either.

But he was rather kind to you.

He took you to his home and even gave you a room.

The Tribe he lived in was the Hunter Tribe. A rather proud tribe who went on hunts more than the others. All members were extremely proud and strong.

The bones in T'un'tou's home were proof of his great accomplishments. 

You lived with him for months, one time, he arrived back with a set of bones. He handed them to you and you nodded. You assumed he gave it to you so you can put it on display for him.

But it wasn't the reason. 

It was meant to be a gift. A courting gift.

You were just too used to being a slave, you never thought it would be more.

Of course, you knew about their techniques and things. Yet, you failed to realize that it was happening to you.

T'un'tou being the rough warrior that he was loved soft things. 

Every female he tried to be with, he always looked for softness, but he never found it.

Then, he remembered his father had a human.

A female human at that.

Humans were supposedly soft and fragile creatures.

So, he decided to visit his father more and more often.

And the rumours were true. One time, he touched your arm as you placed food in front of him, it was exactly what he craved.

Soft and supple skin against his rough one.

T'un'tou learned from his father that since all his sons left, he had no use for you and was thinking about selling you or giving you away for a hunt.

T'un'tou took this opportunity and asked his father to give you to him.

He gave you enough space to get comfortable and once he decided the time has come for him to court you.

He checked in with the healers and you were strong, you could bare a child of his which was great news, something in the future he could use.

T'un'tou also learned that by giving you his blood you would be able to have a longer life.

After that, he brought you to the healers monthly.

You didn't question it, you dared not to.

But you did notice how handsy he was.

He liked to touch your arms and one time he nearly gave you a heart attack when he suddenly touched your leg.

"Soft." he said and it was a word you understood. But he confused you.

Later that evening, he asked you to join his bed, for nothing more than sleep.

You felt like a soft toy. A bear plushie that he used so he could sleep. 

But somehow, you didn't mind.

He arrived back with more and more bones. Giving them all to you and each time you wondered just where you should put them. Now having a designated place where each bone from him would go.

Then, one evening, after spending almost a year with T'un'tou you finally figured it out.

He was courting you.

It made sense why he talked about an offspring with the healer each month you were there. And also why you received blood each time. 

You didn't really have a choice, did you?

You either die or accept that T'un'tou wanted you as his mate.

You wouldn't say no, you didn't wish to die just yet.

And T'un'tou was kind.

It wasn't much of a relationship starter but it was something. Given that Yautja could be extremely dangerous, kindness wasn't really something they were too familiar with.

You smiled as T'un'tou arrived back for the night. You were already in his bed, ready to sleep when he entered.

Seeing you comfortable under the furs, he felt at ease.

He soon found his place behind you, pulling you to his chest, ready to sleep.

How could such a huge and dangerous killing machine be so kind?

Somehow, you both knew in that moment, you both accepted each other. Now, all you needed is a mating ceremony so you could make it official and you would be finally his. 

---

T'un'tou was a great mate.

Very eager but gentle.

He finally had the softness he craved his entire life.

And with his offspring in your belly, he felt full.

However, your pregnancy brought the best and the worst out of you.

But no wonder, you had a little half-human half-yautja baby under your heart!

T'un'tou was taking really good care of you making sure you have everything you need.

You have been craving some strange things lately.

He noticed you preferred meat almost raw meat at that. He was nervous it might poison you.

He never once left your side, not even when the opportunity came for him to go on a hunt. 

He decided to stay with you and watch you.

He became your shadow basically.

Of course, you knew he wanted you and the baby to be safe. He wanted to protect and provide.

But then, he had an opportunity extremely rare and he knew he needed to go.

"I'll be fine." you told him as he left with the ship.

And you were fine.

Thinking about names, trying to figure out a way to make your bed more comfortable.

The tribe accepted you when you were wed to him.

Each day, your child grew bigger and bigger.

When your mate came back, he was delighted to see you so round. He felt like a truly victorious Yautja.

He presented you his kill, but of course, you couldn't care for the bones and skulls. You cared for him.

You did notice a new scar on his shoulder, pouting as you run your fingers over it multiple times. 

You knew to them, it was a sign of battle and victory, but all you could think about was the pain he must have felt.

It made you sad but you were proud of his achievements. 

Since he arrived back, he didn't leave your side for even a second constantly having his arms around you or his hand on your stomach.

"So soft," he said. "Soft and gentle." he said as his hands ran up your back, you felt his claws ever so slightly graze along your skin.

He never hurt you, you knew that.

"I often feel the baby move." you told him and you knew he didn't understand you but it was okay. You grabbed his hand and pulled it to your stomach, waiting for another kick which soon came.

"Strong." you told him in his language and you knew Yautja couldn't smile, but his eyes said it all.

Pure happiness.

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[captain039]

Pains of the touch

Astarion x reader

Warnings: Fluff, intimacy, innocent reader,tav insert

Here cry some more 🤣

The amount of astarion pics I have is unhealthy lmao

Everyone at camp had finally been able to rest after a tough fight for the land. cheers and drinks flowed free. Your ferocious leader making their rounds and drinking. You were sitting by the fire with Shadowheart in front of you. You were the overly affectionate one of the group, sometimes you didn’t even realise, but you were always comforting or touching. Nothing sexual of course, you enjoyed playing with others hair, Halsin let you give him little plats in his, Shadowheart let you brush out her raven locks and make a simple braid for the night. Karlach would pout because she’d want some attention, but was afraid of burning you, Lae’zel threatened you with death if you tried to touch, Gale was always embarrassed so you’d always asked before hand and he’d give in, and Astarion, well Astarion stood by his tent and read silently with a whole bottle of wine. You always sagged seeing him over there brooding, you know he wasn’t very social and very caged, you don’t blame him, being a vampire spawn for two hundred years and then this, must be hard on him.

You finished brushing Shadowhearts hair as she sipped on some wine and chuckled with Karlach who was telling a story. You began to braid her hair and finished with a smile.

“All done” you smiled sitting down beside her now, shoulders touching. She smiled saying her thanks as she handed you her cup. You shook your head smiling, one of you had to be sober. You settled into a warmth, Karlach still talking about her adventures, it made you smile no matter how bloody they were. The teiflings were rather rowdy to your surprise, dancing and singing. You were happy though right where you were.

People often commented on your touchiness, saying it was weird and how you were too trusting. You’d been beaten down many times because of it, starved from a young age. You never knew kindness from your parents, no nightly hugs and kisses, no bedtime story’s, just yelling, constant yelling, fear and tears. When you left home at a young age you swore to never be like them, you swore to be kind and hope one day the gods would return that kindness to you. Seems the gods kindness ended with a tadpole in your brain and some crazed fighters by your side who you now swore to show kindness and affection too. You often stopped yourself though, even when your companions would say they didn’t mind or even ask you too, human touch was a necessity in such horrid times like this, something to keep the hope alive and trust strong. Your mind kept you up every night though, you kept over thinking, had nightmares and would often leave your tent to sit out in the forest and just watch the stars so you didn’t have to think. It never worked, you’d often cry and curse yourself.

You leant back sighing as Shadowheart and the others went to their tents or to socialise, you sat back on the rock grabbing your journal. You jumped a bit seeing Astarion sit against the log by you.

“You alright?” You asked he usually didn’t come over.

“Course, we just killed a bunch of people” he grinned and you huffed smiling with a small shake of your head. You scribbled in your journal, drawing a random tree. Others soon joined though and the camp fire was filled with chatter. You were pushed closer to Astarion, your leg almost against his shoulder. You had put your journal away listening to everyone. You glanced to Astarions hair frowning at the muck in it. You tsked reaching to pull the stick and spiderwebs out.

“Did you hit a tree?” You snorted not noticing how the vampire had tensed.

“You’ve got spiderwebs in your hair” you scolded lightly gently pulling them out. His hair was so soft and you smiled softly before you noticed his frozen state.

“Oh- I’m so sorry-“ you said cursing yourself. You grunted a bit as the people beside you pushed you a little and huffed as they drunkenly laughed and gave you a cheers.

“You’ve still got stuff in your hair” you muttered to Astarion.

“You might wanna wash it is all, I know you like your hair pristine” you tried to joke as he didn’t look at you. He didn’t speak, he began to move and you felt your heart drop, you made him leave cause of your stupid touchiness. He stood and walked back to his tent and you deflated feeling sadden as you shuffled over a bit more. You stared at the ground, but was shocked when Astarion tapped your shoulder.

“Come” he said simply and you frowned, but nodded following him. He held something in his hands, but you couldn’t see it as you walked behind him.

“I can’t see the back of my head, nor can I see in a mirror” he said turning to you handing you some form of oil and a brush. Your heart swelled suddenly and you smiled.

“You tell anyone and I’ll slit your throat” he said and you gulped, but nodded as he sat down and you sat behind him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask to touch you, can I?” You asked and he nodded. You sat on your knees a smile on your face as you brushed out his pearly curls making sure nothing was left in it before you gently massaged the nice smelling oil in his hair and styled it like he normally did. You moved to his sides before sitting in front of him, smiling as you fixed his curls.

“I don’t know how you make it so perfect without a mirror” you chuckled not seeing the ways his eyes stared at you. He seemed to lean into your touch and you felt warmth fill you as he let you do this.

“There, no more spiders” you sat down on your knees again in front of him as you laid down the brush and oil. You smiled at him, but it faltered at the look he gave you.

“Is everything alright?” You asked and he scoffed lightly looking away. You tensed a bit, did you do something wrong? He asked you to? Well sort of told you to do it.

“I promise it’s how you style it, I didn’t do anything silly” you began to feel anxious as you fiddled with your hands in your lap. He suddenly grabbed your hips tugging you to him, you made a surprised noise as he pulled you into his lap. You rested your hands on his shoulders so you didn’t crash into him, as your knees sat by his hips. You felt your cheeks go hot at the intense stare he gave you, like he was studying you. You opened your mouth to speak nothing came out so you closed it. You looked away trying not to sit in his lap.

“I trust you” he said, but for some reason it felt like it wasn’t about his hair. You looked to him seeing a new softness in his eyes. You faltered hand twitching slightly as you lifted it to caress his face. He closed his eyes as you did, gently stroking your thumb on his cheek bone, seeing the light wrinkles by his eyes. You sat down in his lap pressing your lips to his forehead as you saw his brow strain and he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your neck. You were surprised by the sudden act, but you held him back, fingers massaging his scalp again as you smiled.

“You just need ask for a hug from me, no matter what time” you said softly.

[risuola]

V — GOLDEN CAGE // F. READER x TOBIRAMA SENJU

Visiting your father went just like you expected it to go. Horribly wrong but you wanted to push through it and go back to your home in Konoha. Things unfortunately got out of hand and you were forced to summon Tobirama to save you.

contents: physical abuse, toxic parent behavior, sexual abuse mentioned just briefly (nothing of that nature is happening but it's a warning nonetheless), forced drug intake, heavy misogyny, reader discretion is advised — 3,1k words

POLITICALLY LOVELESS || SERIES MASTERLIST

With an ANBU officer that Tobirama assigned to assist your trip, you reached the village that was your homeland. A place where you grew up welcomed you with fake smiles as you entered the palace. You used to live there, but no warmth or domesticity was waiting for you inside the familiar interiors. Once you entered, you received a long, harsh and emotionless hug from your father, just so the appearances were kept in the eyes of your security member, but with Konoha's shinobi departure, all of the artificially gentle gestures departed as well, leaving you with cold aura of your strict parent. Oh, how many memories it brought to the front of your mind.

After four hours of travel, you were given some time to rest and you took it, preparing yourself for what's to come. Evening was still early and you expected a meeting with your father that day before the madness of the next one starts. The talk was plain, it was nothing, just as if he wasn't talking to his daughter but to a foreign person and you'd lie if you said it hurt you. You were used to similar treatment from him, there was never any parental love he showed. He never acted like your father, more so like your owner, which in a sense he was. Every decision regarding you had to go through him, had to get his approval before it came to life; he decided what you’re going to wear, what and how much you’re going to eat and with whom you’re going to spend your time. He was strict and demanding nothing but compliance, feeding you fear and uneasiness from the youngest age. He did everything to burn down your character, to change you into a maid, a housewife, into someone who’s doing as is told. You were too strong mentally to go down this road and you learned how to play his game. Or so you thought, because you felt truly free only when you married Tobirama and left the village.

With a false wish to rest well, you spent the night hyperaware of the surroundings. Your old room brought memories you were not too fond of; the fake light aura that surrounded you, with all the soft and plush fabrics and luxurious ornaments made you feel sickly. You were often trapped in here, as your father explained it by protection and keeping you pure. A golden cage, an exclusive prison. He kept you out of the world, giving you no choice but to sneak out on your own to train or see people. If not for that, you'd probably go insane very quickly and as the time had passed, you were impressed with yourself that you remained the clarity of mind. You went through all of it, the many years of mental, violent training that were often close to break you down. Strict rules of your palace made you depressed in every meaning of this word; at one point you were too afraid to speak, you were frightened to look anyone in the eyes – even if it was just a servant of yours. Your life wasn't easy. The princess title covered all of it up, dressing your misery in fairy tale stories and glittering the dark path you had to walk through.

The next day began just as you expected. A breakfast, beautifully spread on the large, long table where you sat down facing your father, focusing on the food rather than his demanding gaze that seemed to pierce right through your soul. He was displeased by your sight; you could tell that right away. Disgusted even.

"There are stories that reach our ears," he began; the annoyance apparent in his voice even though you could tell he was trying to sound calm. The tension in the air was thick and heavy, palpable enough to make you feel suffocated.

"Regarding...?”

"Regarding your behavior in Konoha. Rumors have it, you're serving the society of the village. You're quite liked in here, aren't you?" The question was rhetorical and during the speech, there was a few accents put onto certain words with the most apparent note of disgust that surrounded the word serving.

"That's a part of my duty, as of a wife to—"

"Cut the bullshit. As a wife, you should be at Senju's feet. Do you not know how a marriage should look like?" Your father got up, slamming his fist on the table, knocking down glasses as your food bounced on the porcelain plate. That’s about it when it came to the breakfast. "I have given you up believing you're well prepared, but I see I was wrong. Can you imagine my disappointment, my shame when my people talk about your treatment to your husband?!"

"With all due respect, but Konoha has different vision on marriage and I fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities. My husband is—"

"Shut your mouth when I'm talking," he groaned, cutting you off yet again and you sighed, putting down the chopsticks. Peaceful breakfast wasn't what you’ve expected anyway. "You, acting all lovey-dovey with that man is an insult to our tradition, to our people. It's been almost a year and I was patient, hoping you'd realize your place, but as of now I don't see any other choice, than to put you in it myself."

"What does it even mean? Your superiority over me ended the day I was married off. Now the only person that can give me orders is Tobirama, not you, and he do not wish me to serve him."

"Spare your words until I lose control."

You shut up, wondering if it’s worth it to just leave the palace and get back to Konoha earlier. It would for sure make a fuss but if you were careful enough, you might not interrupt the negotiations that were taking place. Without a warning, two women entered the room, cutting your thoughts short as they grabbed you by the shoulders and dragged outside with force. You were aware of a place you were heading to. Little, closed house-like building, but small enough to fit one room and a small bathroom. It was like a basement even though it wasn’t underneath the ground. It was dark, with no windows. A prison your parent used to put you in to 'teach you a lesson'.

Your father wanted to break you, to plant the seed of fear in you that would bloom into your compliance to Tobirama later. That would push you down to the ground and make you stay at that level, so the Senju can tower above you. A wife that’s perfect, according to the misogynistic tradition of your land, is the one who’s humble and obedient, who doesn’t speak up and is afraid to do so. Woman’s role in the marriage was objectified – a woman was meant to speak when asked and be silent when she’s not, she was meant to keep her head low, mouth shut and legs open to fulfill the desires of her husband. To give birth to as many heirs as the man pleased to have. It looked like this for decades in your village and you happened to disagree with that from the youngest age, what saved you from an early marriage. You couldn’t be more thankful for the agreement between Yu and Konoha, but your father was far from happy.

When the doors closed, trapping you inside with two men you had seen for the first time, the terror began but you had no intentions of giving in. Not this time. When you were younger, you just took it – too afraid to show any fighting skills that you were learning in secret from the world, but now it didn’t matter. You fought the physical abuse for a day, but your body was weakened and you assumed it was something you were sneakily given during breakfast. It was everything but a surprise to you. Your father was known for his toxic behavior, as he would often poison you to weaken your reactions, and then ‘show you your place’. You should have known better to not eat or drink anything he’s giving you.

The nightmarish treatment of kicks and punches was something your body remembered but weaned from. It's been almost a year since you were beaten for the last time, as Tobirama kept you safe and warm in his embrace. The men didn't care about the marks that were appearing on your body. Your father will sooner or later inject you another one of his mixtures that make bruises invisible to the eye, but leaving the pain of them. It was a brutal ritual he often used to place you in order. Something you hated more than anything but had to learn to live with. Minozuki wasn't stupid, he knew he cannot leave any signs of abuse on you to prevent your husband from knowing as he suspected he wouldn’t be as grateful as he should be. But it was a service, your father thought – it was a favor he was doing towards the young Senju, because clearly he wasn’t able to discipline you himself.

The torture took two days, although for you it felt like eternity. There was little to no perception of time in a space with no daylight and no clocks. Every bone, every muscle hurt – even your hair and nails burned with pain. It'll go away, you told yourself, repeating it like a spell to push through it. Two days of the hell had already passed, meaning you’ll go home soon. Conveniently, you were expected to stay as long as the negotiations in Konoha are taking place, and there even was a delegation from your village, probably to make sure your husband is not leaving. Minozuki thought of everything – it wasn’t a coincidence that he invited you now. He knew damn well you’ll come alone.

“How’s my daughter doing?” Your father’s voice reached your ears from outside, where he met with your abusers to get reports on the progress. The door stayed open, but even if you’d want, you couldn’t escape now. Not when you were that weak, not when they were standing right behind the wooden entrance and especially not in your current state. You could taste nothing but blood, it coated your mouth and half of your face. You were coughing it out for god knows how long, something inside of you had to be damaged. Something had to be fractured enough to release a constant flow of red through your lips. For the nth time you felt like you’re gonna pass out, an exhaustion taking the best of you, the world spinning more and more right before your eyes.

“She’s stubborn,” one of the men responded, and the second agreed. Their voices were faintly hearable for you now, barely coming on top of the intense ringing in your ears. “At this rate she’ll have her bones broken but learn nothing.”

“So, change the tactic. Use every mean.”

“Yes sir.”

The change of tactic caught you off guard. Never before your father had a reason to use any kind of sexual abuse towards you, hence you couldn’t be prepared for that at all and at first, you couldn’t even tell what was happening. You were once again forced to swallow down a liquid in which another dose of drugs was dissolved. At this point, you were close to throwing it up as it forced down the blood back to your stomach. When it began taking over your body, you felt like you’re levitating. You were able to move, barely, but your limbs felt numb. You had no control over them, but your mind stayed intact. Aware of what was happening, you felt like you’re standing next to yourself, observing with no power to react. That out of body experience frightened you to the core, you never felt like this before.

And then, you were reminded of a mark on your body, that Tobirama left before you departed. It was one of those he used to teleport himself between places. He wanted to make sure you’re safe during the travel or your stay in the palace. He was well aware of how scared you were going there, even though you tried not to show it, you did your best to not worry him with your family issues. But he knew better, he made you promise you’ll use it if something’s wrong, so he can appear instantly and protect you, but you swore to yourself you won’t bother him. His job in Konoha was so important, you couldn’t bring him in just because you were kicked in the gut but when it got to you what was happening now, what your father meant by saying every mean, you got truly scared.

The men grabbed you, began tugging and jerking your body, as they were fighting with every last bit of power you had left to push them away. The intention was clear as they were pulling your clothes, ripping the seams, cutting the straps, revealing more and more of your skin, squeezing and slapping your body, groping everywhere. The feeling of disgust began overflowing your mind. Was that really what your own father allowed to happen? Before marrying you off he put so much effort into keeping you pure and now he was just okay with you being used in this dingy, dark cage? You couldn’t push them away; your body was too weak, your hands had no strength as they met the much larger bodies of your abusers. Biting your thumb open, you smeared the blood over the marking on your forearm, focusing every last bit of chakra that you had in there, alarming your husband.

In the middle of talking, Tobirama fell quiet. The feeling of your energy calling for him paralyzed him for a split second as he knew you wouldn’t use his marker if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. He knew you all too well to know you were too stubborn to call for him for as long as you can withstand whatever was happening and the thought of what pushed you to do so froze the blood in his veins. What on earth was happening in your village?!

“Tobirama?” Hashirama addressed the silence, looking up to his brother, immediately noticing something was wrong. Just as if Yugakure delegation noticed as well, they began asking more questions, aiming towards the younger Senju to distract him from the feeling but the hokage got up, dismissing his brother with a pat on the shoulder. “Let’s take a break.” Hashirama’s authoritative voice wasn’t up to any discussion and nobody dared to say a word.

You fought with all of your might, forcing yourself through the drugs, fueling your muscles with remains of your chakra just to move them, to push those men away from you. With a whine, you fell down to the ground, after being striked in the head but your body didn’t reach the floor. Appearing suddenly, a strong arm wrapped itself around you, situating you under the wall gently. Seeing the familiar face in front of you, you exhaled in relief. Tears rolled down your cheeks, the marking worked after all and you knew damn well that Tobirama would come and help you eventually, but to see how fast he reacted warmed your heart all over again.

Senju was enraged by the sight he was met with. Your body, partially undressed was covered in purple signs of abuse, in the red patterns of blood that was gushing out of your mouth and two men in front of you were trying to take advantage of the half-conscious state you were in. He had no idea why were you so barely present, but it wouldn’t surprise him if it was some kind of drug coursing through your system. Your father was nowhere to be found and the more he looked around, the more dried blood caught his attention. Furrowing his brows, he groaned in anger, easily beating down two offenders that dared to lay a finger on his wife and he wished to give them a bigger lesson, to make them suffer longer, to beat them harder, but all of that could wait. Now you were the top priority for him. Now he had to take you home, to safety.

“Hey,” he said, forcing himself to sound calmer than he was, as he squatted in front of you, swooping your body from the floor with such gentleness that you barely felt any pain.

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” you muttered, leaning into the familiar scent of his neck. Even though you were barely registering the world around you, fighting with your own perception, you would recognize him everywhere. In a matter of second you were back in Konoha, in your own bathroom and the light of it made you squint and whine against Tobirama’s shoulder.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and you’ll rest, alright?” He spoke softly and his deep, caring voice soothed your nerves.

“You can go back to your duties, I can manage…” In hopes to reassure your husband, you tried to stand on your legs but as soon as your weight landed on them, you began to fall. It’s only thanks to the protective embrace around you that you didn’t reach the tiles.

“I’ll stay with you as long as you need me to. Please accept my help and don’t worry about the negotiations. The most important parts of it are already sealed, my brother can deal with the rest alone.”

With a nod, you draped your heavy arms around his shoulders, melting into his large body, into the safety of him. Everything hurt you, the pain felt unbearable just a second ago, but such close contact with Tobirama made It worth pushing through.

“I love you more than my own life, Tobirama,” you whispered against his chest, pressing your lips right above where his heartbeat echoes. “I’m so grateful that you came, that you saved me before they—”

“Ssh, it’s okay, you are now safe with me,” he hushed you gently. He sounded calm, his tone was warm and he showed nothing but love and patience to you, but inside of him there was a storm raging. Not now, he reminded himself in his thoughts. His fingers were stroking your hair whilst the other hand kept a hold around your waist, keeping you up and standing. He could feel how weak you were, how little chakra was circling in your system – an effect of you using it constantly to fight back the assault. Tobirama prioritized you above everything else right now, but in his head, he already planned the visit to your homeland.

Those people, your father… they needed to learn why they don’t want any problems with him.

taglist: @garouaddict @bluebreadenthusiast @nelivv - I tagged everyone who asked for continuation, please let me know if you want to be tagged for the future parts loves! (and don't be shy to tell me if you don't want to be tagged as well!)

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Humans And Mutants - Chapter 1 - Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Title: I'm Not Your Experiment

Current Chapter | Next Chapter

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Ororo, Scott, Jean, Bobby, Pyro, Rogue, Magneto (Mentioned), Stryker, Anne, Kelly, and Charles

WC: 2,879

Warnings: Childhood abuse, experiments, mentions of torture, Reader's a mutant, bruises and wounds mentioned, fire mentioned, drugs mentioned, attacks mentioned, teasing, taunting, anxiety, embarrassment, slow burn, and slight angst

(Sorry, if this series is a bit odd, I made this in 2018)

You were a twenty-five-year-old woman who went through the worst possible thing that could ever happen to a child of six. Your dark terrible past. You lived through it every night in your dark visions. It seemed to never disappear, never leave you, even when you would wake up in total fear; covered in sweat; the images would replay over and over again, haunting you forevermore. You would never feel safe or normal after what you went through.

At the age of three, you found out, along with your parents, that you had teleporting powers. That you were a mutant. Your parents freaked out whenever you would accidently teleport places in your sleep, so they sent you to a testing lab. Your parents abandoned you there when you turned six and it seemed like nothing was improving. Leaving you in the hands of tall, scary scientists, alone and afraid.

For years you were experimented on, some days tortured. Slowly they stopped when they gave you a serum which they received no reaction from you. The serum involved brain enhancements and enhanced healing abilities, and when there was no reaction from you, they grew very frustrated. The scientists then connected tubes and electric wires to your head, sending radioactive and electric signals into your brain, which seemed to cause the serum to activate. You showed many signs of having many mutations of the mind, powers such as telepathy, memory manipulation, memory reading, electricity, and memory wiping. This, though, caused the scientists to move on to the next child and forget about you. Throwing you away into an iron cage, like trash.

You sat there in the corner, your head bruised and your brain pounding against your head in sheer agony. The only sound you could make were muffled whimpers from within the iron bars. Your clothes were tattered and ripped from wearing them for too long and not having showered in months. They smelled like old garbage and urine. Your eyes were glazed with pain and tiredness. Your fingers were covered in bruises, scrapes, and cuts. A single strand of your hair fell across your face. You reached your hand out with a shaky movement. You touched the lock of hair. It felt coarse and dry. You were trapped there for years, hardly ever getting enough food, which made you weak. You could hardly sleep, laying on the cold concrete floor, with no blanket or pillow to soothe you. There was no way to escape.

Weeks went on and the scientist’s facility went into a crazy haze. Scientists running here and there passed the many rows of caged children. They scrambled to escape as alarms blared and red lights flashed. It has been a while, you were nine, and you could finally control your mind powers, after long years of trying to better yourself. Though, the only thing that you didn't have full control of was your teleportation powers. If you did succeed in honing those powers, you could've escaped. There was loud yelling and some of the other children were crying, but after a while there was silence. No sound or movement was heard, no bleeps of machines or scientists muttering in the next room. Nothing.

You didn't know what to do, but soon a man in a wheelchair wheeled in, other people by his side, quickly they all helped the children out of the cages. You were last to be set free, the man in the wheelchair opened the gate of your cage and held out a hand. You looked at the man, who gave you a kind smile, which you haven't seen in a while. You were scared but curious, and you had this odd feeling that you could trust this man. You grabbed his hand weakly and stepped out of the tight enclosure. Your bare feet touched the floor, flinching from the icy marble, chilling you to your bones. The man then led you to the other children, who were smiling, happy to be free. The children found their new homes with the wheelchair man, who you found out later to be Charles Xavier. You and the saved children were sent to his school for gifted children. Or as he called it, The Mansion.

As the years went by, you were able to graduate from Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters. Charles then asked you if you wanted to become the new Biology teacher for some of the kids, and you happily agreed. Although you would only be doing it part-time, you loved it nonetheless. When you weren't working, you'd teleport to your cabin in Alaska, a gift from Charles since you had no place to go. You’d stay in the cold land, admiring the snow that you were never allowed to play in as a child, and gazing up at the Northern Lights. When you were working, you would teleport back to the school and stay until you were done teaching the spring semester. You loved your job and loved helping the many children who grew attached to your sweet and caring personality in mere seconds. 

Being the smart person you were, you would sometimes sneakily teleport to the mansion and grab a glass of chocolate milk. You got caught a lot of times, but that didn’t stop you from teleporting and grabbing more. It was fun to teleport back to the mansion and watch as Scott tried to search for cups only to find none. But, you weren't rude, you'd bring back the glasses all clean and shiny once you were done having fun… And when Charles had caught you.

Some time later, some of the children of Charles’s school went on a field trip to a science museum. Which was probably a good and bad idea. Filled with wax figures from the Stone Age and fake dinosaur bones, the museum was a great place for children to learn and have fun doing it. While some of the children were listening to Ororo talk about Neanderthals, a boy named Artie, observed a girl lick her ice cream. The girl looked at him, and Artie smiled back at her. The girl then stuck her tongue out at him and glared. Artie, retaliating, did the same, sticking out his black and pronged tongue. The girl turned away, frightened, stuffing her face into her mother's dress.

“Artie?” Ororo called out to the young boy, the boy in question turning to look up at his teacher. “Not here.” She said, giving a little smile, softly shaking her head.

Not only minutes later did someone call out her name, “Storm?” She turned to see Jean and Scott walking with a group of other kids. “Everything okay?” Jean asked her, and Ororo nodded.

“Yeah. How was the medical exhibit?” She asked Jean, glancing between Jean and Scott.

Jean rolled her eyes, “The kids liked it. Scott was bored.” She answered, looking over to Scott for a second.

“It was boring,” Scott announced, his hands stuffed into his pockets, a small frown on his face.

Ororo did a quick headcount of the kids, freaking out only slightly when she was a few kids off, “Jean, where are the others?” She queried worriedly, turning to them again.

Meanwhile, around the same time, over in the cafeteria, Rogue, Bobby, and Pyro were sitting at a table, talking. They sneaked off from the museum's many exhibits, wanting to rather hang out without the constant gaze of teachers. As they were talking, a voice came out of nowhere and cut their conversation short. “Hey man, can I have a light?” A teenager asked in a snappy tone, his friend standing beside him.

Pyro looked down at his lighter, which was painted to look like a shark, and he flicked it a few times, the fire igniting. “Sorry, can’t help you out, pal.” He replied, closing his lighter, looking at the two teens nonchalantly.

“Why are you being such a jerk, man?” The second teen demanded, clearly ticked off.

“Yeah, why are you being a jerk?” The first teen questioned, the same annoyed tone in his voice, matching his friends as they both glared at the Pyrokinesis teen.

Pyro and Bobby ignored the two teens, going on to discuss if Rogue was having a good time or not when suddenly the second teenager grabbed Pyro’s lighter.

“Hey!” Pyro exclaimed, defensively, watching as the teenager handed the lighter to his friend. Pyro stood up and walked to them to get his lighter back, but the second teenager held him back, while the first teenager lit his cigarette. “That’s really funny, bro.” Pyro said maliciously.

The second teenager only smirked, “What are you gonna do?” His friend took a drag of his cigarette, and blew the smog into Pyro’s face. “Suddenly you’re not so tough.” The teenager told, as his friend breathed in from his cigarette.

Pyro looked at the first teenager and winked, causing the cigarette to catch up in flames, fire landing on the teenager’s arm. Many people got up and stepped back, as the teenager tried to put out the flames, and fell down onto a table, causing it to fall over with him. Pyro chuckled a bit, hiding part of his face with his hand as Bobby stretched out his own hand, sending a current of frost toward the teenager on fire; the flame dying down. The teenager stared at both Bobby and Pyro with a panicked look, before the room froze. Everyone was quiet, still as statues, as if they were mannequins or a video paused. Pyro wandered over to Bobby, who looked as startled as the kid who he had saved from Pyro's flames. 

“Bobby, what did you do?” Rogue asked her boyfriend, super perplexed as she looked rapidly around the large cafeteria.

Pyro shook his hand in front of the second teenager, getting no response as Bobby frowned. “I didn’t do this.” He spoke before a person wheeled out of the halted crowd.

“No, I did.” Charles announced, stopping in front of Rogue, Bobby, and Pyro in his wheelchair. “And the next time you feel like showing off, don’t.” The head professor responded, giving the small group a sharp stare.

Before anything else could happen, the TV on the side of the wall began to play, talking about something happening in Washington D.C. Charles, the professors, and the kids watched as the man on the news spoke, “We are here in Washington, where there has been an attack in the oval office in The White House. Details are still coming slowly, all we know is the President and Vice President were not harmed. Sources say the attack involved one or more mutants.”

“I think it’s time to leave, professor.” Scott stated as Charles nodded his head.

“I think you’re right.” He replied, watching the TV.

Soon the people in the cafeteria unfroze, and everything turned back to normal. When the two teenagers unfroze, they saw that Bobby, Pyro, and Rogue were gone. People looked around confused and worriedly, wondering what had just happened.

~~~

Over at Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters, Scott looked out the window and turned to Jean and Charles, his arms crossed. The room was tense with worry and confusion, none of them knowing what exactly they should do about what had happened in Washington. “In my opinion, I think Magneto is behind all this.”

“No, I don’t think so Scott.” Jean stated, looking at him from her place on the sofa.

“While Eric might have organized something like this from prison, for him the gesture is far too… Irrational. It only hurts his goal of mutant prosperity.” Charles responded in his chair.

If people could see Scott's eyes, he'd be rolling them, “You mean superiority.”

“If Eric had his way, yes.” In the background, the TV screen presented photographs of dissidents on both views of the mutant issue.

“You know how the government will respond to this. They’ll re-introduce the Registration Act.” Ororo spoke to Charles, Jean, and Scott, crossing her own arms in discomfort.

Charles frowned, “Or worse.” He stared at the protesters on tv, not really knowing what to think.

“Do you think the mutant was working alone?” Jean then asked after everyone went silent.

“The only way we’ll know is if we find him before the authorities do.” Charles answered, finishing their conversation.

~~~

In The White House, in the Oval Office, Stryker emerged to greet Anne Reynolds, his right hand in command. They walked through the outer hallway, which is being repaired from the attack. 

“Mr. Stryker.” Senator Kelly called, adjusting his suit.

Stryker and Anne stopped and turned around to see Senator Kelly. “Senator Kelly, this is Anne Reynolds, my director of special projects.” Stryker introduced the tall woman in a gray suit.

“My pleasure.” Anne shook Kelly’s hand tightly. A little too tightly and a little too long, Kelly noticed.

“Nice grip.” Kelly began, dropping her hand, “Listen, if you’d like to talk further about what you’re planning, I’d be available to offer my assistan-”

Stryker cut him off, “Thanks for the offer, Senator, but everything is already in place.” He smiled eerily, patting him on the shoulder. As Stryker and Anne walked away, Senator Kelly rubbed his fingers together, his eyes flashed yellow.

~~~

In the living room of Charles’s mansion, Rogue sat on the couch next to Bobby, her gloved hand in his. Two boys sat at a table behind the couch, snickering and quietly laughing at the couple, but their laughter died down when the sound of a motorcycle was heard, causing Rogue to jump from her seat with an excited smile on her face. She headed to the front entrance, Bobby following close behind. 

“Logan!” She threw her arms around the Wolverine, who hugged her back.

“Hey Rogue.” She backed up, smiling as Bobby appeared behind her, “Who’s this?” Logan then questioned, looking at Bobby up and down, observing him.

“This is Bobby, he’s-”

Wrapping a hand around her waist protectively, Bobby responded, cutting Rogue off, “Her boyfriend.” Logan and Bobby shook hands, doing so, crackling ice and vapors rose from the handshake, Logan raising an eyebrow at the sort of macho scene. Rogue just rolled her eyes. “They call me Iceman.” Bobby stated.

Logan wasn’t impressed. “Right.” Logan then turned to Rogue. “Boyfriend? So how do you guys..?” His words trailed off as Bobby pulled Rouge closer into his side.

“Well, we’re still working on it.” Bobby answered irritatedly, looking at Rogue and then to Logan.

“Look who’s come back.” Logan turned around to find Ororo, smiling at him as she climbed down the stairs of the mansion. Wearing a white flowy long sleeved shirt, radiant as always. “Just in time.” She finished, walking over to the man and teens. 

“For what?” Logan asked, tilting his head slightly as Ororo smiled teasingly.

Her smile widened, “Cause we need a babysitter.” 

“A babysitter?” Logan inquired, looking confused.

Ororo said nothing else about the matter, turning to leave, “Nice to see you again, Logan.”

“Hey, Logan.” A new voice spoke up. Logan turned to the stairs once more, his eyes widening slightly as he watched Jean walk down the stairs that Ororo previously came from. 

“Hi, Jean.” Logan replied, a small fond smile on his face.

“I’m going to… I’m… I’m gonna get the plane ready…” Ororo walked off, knowing she didn’t want to interrupt anything they had going on.

“Hey, well, it was good to meet you.” Bobby quickly stated, before taking Rogue’s hand.

Rouge gave Logan a little wave before being pulled away with Bobby, “Bye, Logan, I’ll see you later.”

Logan then turned back to Jean. “Okay..,” Logan spoke, the awkwardness becoming a bit too much.

“Ororo and I are heading to Boston. We won't be gone long. The Professor wants us to track down a mutant who attacked the President.” Jean explained, as Logan frowned.

“So it was a mutant.” Logan said, confirming his suspicion.

Jean couldn’t help but smile teasingly up at him, “You’ll be here when we get back unless you plan on running off again.”

“I can probably find a few reasons to stick around.” Logan said with a small smirk just before Scott walked into the room.

“Find what you’re looking for, Logan?” Scott asked, also walking down the stairs.

“More or less.” Logan answered, not-so-subtly looking at Jean as she walked over to Scott. 

“I’ll see you, boys, later.” Jean replied, before kissing Scott on the cheek, leaving the room.

“Be safe.” Scott said, worriedly.

She smiled, looking back at Logan, “Bye.” She then left the room and headed to the jet.

“See ya.” Logan called after she left.

There was a moment of silence between Scott and Logan. They just stared at each other, the tension high in the air, as both men were in love with Jean in some way or another.

“Aren't you going to welcome me home?” Logan asked Scott cockily, tauntingly as Scott stood there, giving Logan a glare, or what probably was a glare; he hands on his hips, “Your bike needs gas.” Logan then declared, throwing Scott’s motorcycle keys to him.

Scott caught his keys but threw them back and Logan caught them skillfully. “Then fill her up.” He replied, before leaving Logan alone again.

_____

@powergirlsupremacy

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist

[1800kfics]

so let's go see the stars

wk: 3k

TW: mental illness, manic episode, use of medication. might be hard to read for some, pls make sure you're in the right headspace before proceeding :)

song: plug me in - lil soda boi

Kim Donghyun. Your sky blue, your peach pink, your crimson purple.

You pull your knees to your chest to make room for Leehan in the windowsill nook. The two of you loved people watching from your apartment window. It was your favorite activity to do together.

“My new medication has been making me nauseous and giving me the worst headaches. Doctor said this one wouldn’t do that.” You complain with a huff. Leehan has always been an amazing listener. He always heard you out and never complained about his own problems. Everyone needs someone like him in their life, you think to yourself.

“It must be too strong. Tearing up your body from the inside. Stop taking it, missing one here and there won’t hurt.” He offers.

You sigh and bore a hole into the empty bench across the street. “I know it won’t, but the doctors lectured me when they found out I had started skipping. They were real serious – I hated it. They always try to make me feel like there’s something - something wrong with me.” You say. “How come you haven’t been coming around lately?” You add.

He looks at you and responds, “I don’t know. You just haven’t needed me lately.” He grabs the top of one of your knees and says, “Hot chocolate?”. Smiling, you simultaneously get up to make your way over to the kitchen.

You had known Leehan for what felt like forever. It might have been forever. You must’ve given him your apartment key ages ago, because you don’t even remember doing it. He’s been by your side through thick and thin.

Sometimes you wonder how he hasn’t gotten sick of you yet. He stays until you fall asleep, then quietly lets himself out. Sometimes you’ll wake up and see he’s already come back – like he never left. Sometimes, though, he’ll go MIA. No text or calls back, completely off the map. You’ve learned not to take it personally, and figure he needs his alone time as much as everyone else.

He doesn’t seem to have any other friends, which he doesn’t seem to mind. You don’t have that many friends either. You don’t think your parents like him though. Everytime you brought him up in your formative years you saw their eyebrows furrow, like they were holding something back. You wondered what rubbed them the wrong way about him, he’s never done anything to offend.

Leehan always has your back. He’ll hype you up when you need motivation and comfort you when all you need is a shoulder to cry on. But most importantly, he understands you. He made you realize that it’s okay not to be okay. When the meds fogged up your brain, he helped you work up the courage to stop taking them. When you couldn’t manage to go outside, he kept you company inside. He helped you wash your hair in the sink when getting in the shower seemed like an impossible task. Leehan has and will always be there for you.

Leehan made you think deeper about things. One night, he and you lay in bed together, enveloped in a comfortable silence. He sat up and scooted closer to you. You noticed and diverted your attention to him. He stared at you for a few seconds, then put his hand over your lower left rib cage. "Fear," he said. Confused, you cock your eyebrow but let him continue. He moves his hand up to your heart and makes eye contact with you, "joy." As he moves a little to the left to your sternum he scrunches his face and says "anger." He then trails his hand up to your jaw, lingering on your neck for a few seconds, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. "Sadness" he says. After this, he retracted his hand all together and let himself fall onto the pillow next to you.

After coming home from a doctor’s appointment in one day, Leehan ran up to greet you. “How did it go?” He asked.

“Not the best.” You respond, setting your bags down on the kitchen counter. He picks up a small paper bag and shakes it. It lets out a rattle. “More pills?” He assumes disapprovingly. You nod your head. 

“What, you’re just going to let them control you like this? You said it yourself, you can’t get anything done on these stupid pills. And the side effects – I can’t bear to see you in pain. They’re not worth it.” He reproaches.

“I know. I agree. But you know it… it gets bad when I’m not on something. I have to keep trying until one of them works.” You counter.

He huffs and puts the bag back on the counter. “Not with this bullshit. Find another solution. Truthfully, I don’t come around that often when you’re on meds because I can’t stand being around someone I don’t know. You change when you’re under their spell.” With that, he storms off.

You’re surprised and a little upset at the very least. He never gets mad at you. The last thing you want is to drive away the only person who’s stuck around. You stand with a hand on the counter for a moment to compose yourself.

When you finally gather up the courage to go speak to him, you find him at the window nook. You stand in front of him and he looks up at you. You start, “I’m sorry. I know it’s annoying and unfair for you to have to keep up with all my mood swings and problems. I’m sorry you have to deal with me at all. That being said, you’re all I have. I’d rather spend time with you than have you not recognize me when I’m taking some medication. I choose you.”

Not knowing what to do after that declaration, you looked to the side sheepishly. Silently, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his head against your stomach, pulling you closer in the process. You wrapped your hands gently around his head, fiddling with his long hair in the process. You loved this. You loved him, and wouldn’t trade him for the world.

A few days and an annoying phone call later, you sigh and leave the comfort of your bed to go find Leehan. You see him on the couch, reading the book he had most recently brought home.

“I just got off the phone with Sophia, you remember I told you about her? My friend from high school.” You start. He nods, and you continue. “She’s asking why she hasn’t met you yet.” He shifts uncomfortably. “What did you tell her?” He asks.

“I just told her because you’re busy and a bit introverted. She doesn’t need to know that you basically live here.” You say, making your way over to the couch and plopping next to him.

“Good, thanks.” He says. “As we both know, I’m not really a people person. Besides you, of course.” He says, face illuminated with a smile. You immediately felt warmth grow in your chest. Seeing him smile felt like winning a prize at an arcade, like the smell of jasmine. You never wanted to lose him.

One night, it got particularly bad. You had been up for at least 24 hours, full of energy. You paced back and forth behind the couch where Leehan was sitting, thoughts racing 100mph. Leehan notices how antsy you are, and intervenes, “What’s wrong?”

Heart pounding, you try to respond. “I don’t know, I just, I feel so helpless. I have so many ideas but I’m too useless to do any of them. Why don’t I always have this sort of motivation? It’s burning inside of me.” You grab a fistful of your oversized shirt and pull it out and in to fan yourself lightly.

“Do you want some water? I can grab you a glass.” He asks, feet already moving towards the fridge.

Unable to properly respond, you just let your feet guide you over to the kitchen. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, you decide that you need to shower instead. “Shower!” You yell over your shoulder, already halfway to the bathroom by the time Leehan registers where you’re going.

The shower is refreshing, but mid-shampoo, the buzzing feeling in your heart seems to shift. It feels heavier, uglier. You slowly drop your hands, letting them swing to a still at your sides. You don’t feel so good anymore, about anything. Everything felt a horrible shade of brownish green and the taste of lemon lime gatorade.

20 minutes pass, and Leehan decides to check up on you. With a soft knock on the door, he says, “Hey, you alright in there?”. Ear pressed against the door but still not hearing any response but the running water, he knocks again, calling your name.

Now it’s his turn to pace. Finally deciding, he turns back towards the door and says a bit louder this time, “I’m coming in!” Hand shaking a bit, he grabs the door handle firmly and opens it.

When he gets inside he sees you curled up on the floor of the shower. He grabs a towel and rushes to open the door. You don’t seem to mind – or even fully acknowledge his presence. He tries his best to wrap you in the towel and slumps on the wet ground next to you. The last thing he’s worried about is his clothes.

He grabs the bottom of his face and guides it to face his own. “Breath, breath. What’s happening?” He asks.

Sobs racking your body and hot tears streaming down your face, you (unsuccessfully) try to pull yourself together. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know why everything is so hard. Why is everything so hard? Why can I not fucking do anything? What’s wrong with me?” You babble.

He quickly pulls you impossibly closer to him, legs clanging against each other and your head on his chest, his chin resting atop it. He tries his best to sooth you, hands stroking your wet hair.

“You’ll get through this. I won’t leave until you do. I promise.” He says assuringly.

All you could do was sob into his chest for what felt like hours.

He didn’t leave.

You slept for most of the day, woken only by the ring of your phone. You both woke up in a haze, stiff from sleeping upright on the bathroom floor. You reach to the counter to grab your phone. It’s Sophia. You call her back.

“Hey! Where have you been?” Her voice stings your ear. “I, uh, I slept in.” You reply. “Until 4pm? God, okay, well, have you read any of my texts? I’m in the neighborhood so I thought I’d stop by. I’ll be there in 5.” She says all at once. “Okay, I – okay. See you then.” Instead of arguing, you decide you’d use the few minutes to make yourself look presentable.

Once you hang up, you tell Leehan about Sophia. “She’s coming over in a few minutes. I didn’t really have a choice, believe me.” You say, going to your room to get changed.

When she arrives, you let her in with a fake smile. She wraps you in a half-returned hug. “Didn’t you say you just woke up? You look exhausted.” She says with a grimace.

Did she come here just to insult me? You wonder, annoyed by her blunt comment. Brushing it off, you retort, “I didn’t sleep very well to be honest. Can I get you anything to drink?”

After a somewhat pleasant visit surrounding small talk of where Sophia’s moved since high school and what your lives have been like the past few years, it seems like she’s finally finished with her stop by. Walking to the door, Sophia quips, “You know, I was sure I was going to catch that Leehan boy here. You always mention him but never offer to introduce us. Is he really that shy?”

Thinking that this might be the right time for Leehan to meet someone else from your life, meaningful or not, you respond. “Actually he is here! Let me go get him. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” As you go to find him, she mumbles under her breath. “He’s here and he didn’t even come out? How rude. I don’t know why she hangs around that guy.”

Oddly enough, you search all the rooms in the apartment to no avail. Leehan isn’t there. With a frown on your face, you go back to the entrance of the apartment to try to explain yourself.

“He actually um, he must’ve left while I was changing. He really is that shy.” You say with a light chuckle, in an attempt to make the situation less weird.

Sophia nervously laughs. “Okay, okay. Maybe another time then. Also, are you taking your meds?”

Your heart jumps at her question. “How… How do you know I’m on meds?” You inquire.

She shifts her weight a bit with a pause, looking as if she’s carefully choosing her words. “I bumped into your parents recently when visiting home and, you know how your mom is…” She says.

A sting of betrayal sparks in your heart. “Did she ask you to ask me about the meds? Does she not think I’m taking them? Actually no, I’m not going to discuss this with you.” You extend your arm past her to open the door, insinuating that she needs to take her leave.

All of a sudden, Sophia grabs your shoulder. “Please, your mom is worried about you. Both of them are. I am. Can you just take your medication for us?” You screw your face up at her sudden request.

“Sophia, I’m really fine. I can manage without them. They don’t make me feel good, do you understand? Plus, I have Leehan-” You begin to express, being cut off abruptly.

“That’s just it though! You’re not! You sleep all day, don’t respond for days, and your only friend is someone no one else has ever met! You’re not fine! There is something wrong and you are scaring us.” She outbursts.

You’re in shock for a moment. “You don’t care about me. You never did. You’re just a henchman for my parents.” You shake her hand off your shoulder and it falls back to her side, defeated. The look in her eye turns from concerned to blank. Her fallen hand goes to clutch the strap of her bag. “Okay. Good luck then.” She says, turning and opening the door in one motion. She leaves without another word.

Even though you didn’t appreciate Sophia’s visit, it held a little more weight to know that your parents were involved. They were concerned, scared for you?

That evening, you thought about this standing by the kitchen counter with the new medication in front of you. 

All of a sudden, Leehan walks in. He sees you and walks over to you, patting your head like a puppy. You beam up at him, the first time you’ve smiled all day. “How are you feeling?” He says, taking off his jacket and draping it over the closest chair. “Utterly and completely exhausted.” You respond honestly.

You turn to face him directly. “Hey, I think I might give this new medication a chance.” You say. His eyebrows knit almost immediately. “After everything they’ve done to you so far? Really? They practically make you a zombie.” He says.

You move to grab a glass from the cabinet and fill it halfway with water. “Yes, after everything. I can’t afford to go through last night over and over again. I can’t handle it.” You say.

He goes silent. Too silent. “What are you thinking?” You ask. It takes him a few heartbeats to respond, but when he does, you wish you never asked.

“How do you think I feel?” “What?” “How do you think I feel? I’m by your side through all of this. You don’t think I’m sick of it too? This is just as much my battle as it is yours. You… you couldn’t do any of it without me. You need me. These pills, they just make you some brainless loser. Those ideas and dreams you have sometimes? You won’t be able to achieve any of them on those damn pills, I can guarantee you that.” He says.

Your jaw tightens at the shocking and harsh comments he just made. It turns to anger in your heart. “What, are you trying to control me too? Is that it? If you feel so burdened by me then why don’t you go and leave me too? You are by no means obligated to stay here with some brainless loser.” You angrily swipe the pill bottle from the counter and shake out a pill. You toss it in your mouth without and drink from your glass without hesitation, looking him in the eye while you do it. You felt like you could see his resolve break through his eyes, and your jaw tightened with sadness again.

You left for your room. You got in bed and immediately burst out in tears. You left the door open, though. With Leehan, an open door meant the other could come in, even if you weren’t in the best of moods.

After a minute, Leehan slinked in. He silently climbed into bed with you. Instinctively, you put your head against his chest and continued to cry. What you didn’t expect was for him to start shuddering. You open your eyes to see tears coming out of Leehan’s eyes. The look on his face brought you so much anguish. His shade wilted to a dull ash and it broke your heart.

You sit up and try to wrap your hands around him for once. Still crying, he says, “I just… I don’t want to lose what I have. Don’t let them take you away from me. Please. I need you in my life. I can’t live without you. Please let me stay.”

You hold him close until you both fall asleep, just like he’s done for you time after time. When you wake, you see that Leehan has already woken up. After you fully wake up, you return to your room. You sit on the window nook, legs to your chest to make room for Leehan out of habit. He’ll turn up soon, you think to yourself.

He never does.

hi guys! this is unedited so i apologize for any mistakes :,) wrote it in the spur of the moment, i hope u enjoy! also i realized how little works there are for the bonedo community to i'm officially joining the forces 🫡

p.s. i got inspo from the forest fic…

[after-witch]

Good as Gold [Yandere Dragon x Reader]

Title: Good as Gold [Yandere Dragon x Reader]

Synopsis: You’re his treasure, like anything else. 

Word Count: 1000ish

Notes: yandere, objectification, kidnapped reader, mentions of implied sex

The room, despite its glow from the mountains of hoarded treasure--blood colored jewels and creamy pearls and mountains of gold, all twinkling in the candlelight--is cold. 

This doesn't surprise you. The room is always cold, when he is away.  Without the warmth of his enormous body, without the fire always burning deep in his belly, it can never quite get comfortable for you.

You often wonder if it’s intentional, this cold. To make you eager for his return. Or is it, like so many things, simply his inability to notice or care about how the world differs for you, his fragile little human? 

Of course, if he left you dressed in something more than a flimsy gown, made from gauzy fabric better suited to fairies, you might be less chilly. But you had no say in that--what you wore. Or what you ate, or what you did, or where you went.

You were no longer a complete person, after all, but a prize. A treasure. Another trinket added to his collection, like his precious diamond necklaces or perhaps, more aptly, the occasional animal he permitted to live. A rare bird with feathers that looked like sparkling silver, kept in a black cage that allowed for a becoming contrast with the bird’s natural colors.

At least you had freedom that the bird did not. You could walk around. Chained, yes, but still. You hummed and twirled your ankle, and the melodic sound of the pure gold chain attached to it was as familiar as your own breath. It was only your ankle that was chained now. 

Before, it had been both wrists, both legs--even your neck. As the years passed, most of these were removed. The chain on your ankle is impossibly long, and you can go almost to the end of the massive treasure room, as long as he hasn’t wound it tighter in response to any perceived disobedience. But you were still chained, always. Around your ankle, when he was in a good mood. Around your neck, when he wasn't. Or when he was feeling particularly possessive, regardless of your behavior and the temperament he found himself in. You preferred it when he was content for you to merely exist in the same space as him. For when he got into those moods, red-hot and enamored with nothing but making sure every single piece of treasure was accounted for (you most of all) it tended to end with you, sore and spent, weak and wishing you were a golden statue he admired and not a being of flesh and blood. -- "Darling, precious, irreplaceable... have I told you that you are all these things and more to me?"  His voice is low and rumbling, the words themselves feeling like they were carved from a mountain. A long, crooked claw traces its way across your shoulder. It slices through the fabric like water, leaving it draping down your shoulder. "Yes, always." You regard the torn fabric with a small frown. "I never tire of hearing it. But would you mind not destroying my clothes?" He huffs, nostrils glowing red, and you raise your eyebrows to him. "For they were a gift from you, and so, I hate to see them destroyed." He laughs, and his laugh fills the room, large and loud and old. His laugh has the aches of a thousand years in it, and you wouldn't doubt that his age might very well be close to that number. You remember when you doubted dragons existed at all. They were rumors, legends, things the village feared, but which had not touched your life or your mother's or your grandmother's. Her mother, your grand-mama told you once, swore she saw a dragon snatch up a man and gobble him right up in thin air. But her grand-mama said lots of things. It doesn't matter now. Because you know that dragons are real. That the stories of their massive hoards of treasure are no exaggeration. And that they, if your dragon master is anything to go from, love to keep people just as much as any gold coin. If the person is just right. Like you. "I have a thousand dresses you may wear instead of that slip," he says, though his eyes roam the way the dress hugs your body, the slightly sheer fabric that lives little to his expansive imagination. "If it rips, I shall give you another one. Will that please you?" His claw traces along your chin. It could cut to the bone in seconds. Instead, it gently raises your chin until you're looking at him. "If it pleases you," you tell him, sweet as any marigold, "then it pleases me." Another laugh, this one ending in something akin to a croon. "You really are a treasure. Perfect manners. Perfect mouth. There is no woman in the kingdom like you, nor the world. You may have my word on it.” You shrug, lightly, smiling. 

His words recall a memory, one of the few he does not share with you. Once, while exploring a new area of his hoard while he slept, you found a skeleton. It was small-framed. A woman, from the clothes. It wasn't in a heap of bones like the treasure-seekers and dragon-hunters and glory-hounds who died at your dragon's claws or in some cases, his fire.

Instead, the skeleton was laid out neatly, inside a jewel-encrusted box. Some fabric still clung to the bones, though most of it had rotted away. you found the skeleton and... said nothing. did nothing. You were afraid to ask. No, that wasn't it. You were afraid to know who it was, and what that meant. You brush away the memory, for your own sanity's sake. "I missed you while you were away," you tell him, leaning your head into the rigid claw. "Please tell me you won't leave for that long again. It's difficult without you here." "Cold, you mean?" He asks, humor in his tone, but something else underneath. For all the dragon's size and strength, he was terribly lonely and terribly afraid of coming up wanting in your eyes. It was almost pitiful. Almost. You hum, half-affirming. But you know better than to leave his vulnerability open, like an untreated wound. That never ended well. "Of course it's cold. But it's empty, too." "Empty!" He says, scoffing. He gestures his head around the room. When he breathes out through his nostrils, the air warms it like a stove fire in the kitchens back home. "My mountain is filled with treasure, is it not?” Your hands, small and delicate compared to everything that he is, reach out towards him. He acquiesces, slowly, and lets you stroke the side of his face. The scales are rough and prickly as you pet him, loving, soothing. "What do I care for the gold coins or jewels? They cannot talk to me, or sing to me, or ask me about my day." The dragon snorts, pleased, and the tension in your stomach releases into slow warmth. "What did I tell you? Irreplaceable treasure... that's what you are." The gold chain on your ankle clinks as you climb up on a pile of blankets and beds, designed to give him easier access to your person.

He presses his snout, slightly damp, against your body.

“You are worth more than anything else in this room,” he says, and his voice has taken on something soft and wistful now. “I swear it.” 

“So you say,” you reply, as lightly as you can.

But your mind returns to the skeleton in the box, and her rotting gown, and her empty eye sockets.

[that1-storyteller]

Every Little Experience <3

BLLK Boys (mainly Karasu) x ???? reader (Fem!)

Warnings: Foul language, uhm I’m not sure yet I’ll just figure it out along the way. Gory descriptions, heavily traumatized reader, biases against guys, sarcasm lol.

Blue lock. Two words. Two little words, and behind them was an opportunity of a life time. Uncle Ego Was hired by a woman he called Anri-Chan, to make the world’ s best striker. You may not know much about the sport, but you knew this was huge.

Ego always included you any anything he did, in some way or another. Though this was by far the furthest he’d ever gone to involve you.

You were going to work in blue lock with him. As his assistant. As great as it was to build up experience as a sixteen year old getting into tech and psychology, Ego was…less than ideal to work with. He was demanding to an absurd degree, great, right? In the end, he is your uncle and provides great experience and opportunities. It, in the long run, was worth it.

But you pissed him off, so your first day in the eerie ass building, you were stuck doing maintenance checks and cleaning. Fuck. All you did was rig his noodles…wasn’t that serious, damn… and karma was pretty instant with that prank, you tripped on the rug and face planted immediately after the trap was set. Your poor eye. Bruised on your first day of work.

Now, like the soon-to-be candidates of Blue Lock, you were stuck living there. You were allowed to have your phone, you had your own room, bathroom, etc. It was fairly nice compared to what you observed what the candidates were being treated with. You also, depending on how many tasks you did and how well the job was done, got to pick your meals. Courtesy of your uncle. You got to come in a few days prior to decorate your space as you wished, go over the rules, learn the layout, etc. It was an uncomfortably large building, to say the least.

The biggest rule, or at least the one Uncle Ego and Anri-Chan emphasized the most was,

Limit your contact with the players.

Easy enough. You had no interest in a bunch of (most likely) stuck up, narcissistic jocks who only care about soccer. To be fair, here they were literally fighting for their futures that revolved around soccer, it would be understandable to be desperate and focused, no? Like rats in a cage, attached to a man’s face with one side lit ablaze. Desperate, scared, and tearing into each other just to survive. A raw instinctual thing, really. Always enjoyable to observe…

Well, anywho, not people you’d want to interact with.

So here you were, setting each and every room to be perfect, all because Ego was petty over a prank.

Last quarters, team Z’s. Each sleeping bag was perfectly laid out, the bathrooms organized, towels folded. What a shame it would be, hard work waisted on slobbish boys… sigh. They’d be here tomorrow, and the experiment would begin. Hurray!

…

Your alarm blared in your ears, the sun rising, though you couldn’t see it. No windows, how unfortunate. You sluggishly dressed, very casual clothing for today, you decided. You threw on leggings and a large hoodie, putting on a smidge bit of make-up as well. It fit the occasion. Today you’d be greeting the candidates and handing them their…uniforms? Outfits? You weren’t sure exactly what to call those uncomfortably skin tight data collectors. The word would come to you later, you were sure.

This was the only time you were allowed to purposely converse with the subjects- er hmm, “diamonds in the rough”, as Uncle Ego called them. In your eyes, they were kind of like lab rats. Soccer gods in the making, was a nice way to put it. Poor boys didn’t know what was coming, you felt….only slightly guilty to be apart of their torment. Only slightly.

…

Through the doors they charged, a large herd of brawny, muscle-headed, boys.

“Anri-Chan, I don’t particularly wan’t to be the one to take their phones. It’s like taking crack from an addicted drug dealer, bad news. I fear they’ll bite me, males my age are a bit peculiar, no?”

Anri laughed, finding your bias against guys hilarious. As well as the way you spoke, so odd for a sixteen year old. So amusing to her.

“Y/N! They won’t bite! God, what, do you think they’re wild animals?”

“They may as well be,”

She snorted.

Guy after guy retrieved his suit and info. Many grumbling about the rules, some refusing to giving up their addiction device. After some fierce battles and trickery, they gave it up. Willingly or not. Then navigated their way to their rooms. A sweet looking boy walked up, eyes wide with …maybe it was anxiety, or just uncertainty? You couldn’t tell, maybe a mixture of both.

“Hello Miss, I’m sorry but I don’t know where I’m going, I’m not great with direction. Could you help me? Oh god, am I being a bother? I shouldn’t have asked, I’m so sorry!” He was so quick to panic…

“Hey, hey, don’t fret, you aren’t a bother dear. It’s my job to help, let me guide you,” You baby talked him a bit, it oddly felt necessary with his anxious, meek demeanor.

You waved to Anri, letting her know you’d be gone, and walked with the anxious boy. He was muscular, obviously so. You found humor in how anxious he was for someone who could’ve easily beat the ever-loving crap out of anyone. He had short brown hair and eye-catching forest green iris’s. You found them lovely. They were large and noticeable, very cute. If only he’d stand straight, with correct posture he’d be tall, definitely would help him in the long run. More attractive, even…

“What team are you assigned to, dear?”

“Team A, I-I’m Tokimitsu, by the way…” He stumbled over his words, his nerves messing with him oh so obviously. He fidgeted around with his fingers. Poor guy probably needed therapy and meds.

“I’m Y/N, nice to make your acquaintance, Tokimitsu-sama. What led you to be here? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

He ranted a bit, he seemed to loosen up after you gave a conversation starter. He kept spewing soccer facts like it was his job, very cute. His love of soccer was impressive, but so would be everyone else’s. It would have to be, to end up in Blue Lock. You listened to him ramble as you showed him to his team’s room, adding your thoughts here and there.

…

Every so often people would catch your eye, their hairstyles, accents, outfits, posture, etc. Many unique and out there, those of which you loved to observe. Though, the comments from the tall, tan, blonde guy with pink ends were definitely not necessary…soccer perv.

Someone who really caught your eye, was a purple haired boy. He had a cute mole by his eye, hmm. You couldn’t find a perfect word to match it with. Made you feel weird, in a pleasant way. He was tall, as were many of the participants here, an air of confidence clung to him. Though, you had a feeling… mmm… maybe you were overthinking him. Over analyzing. When he spoke, oh when he spoke…sharp, intellectual, pleasant, hell it soothed a part of your brain you didn’t know needed soothed. Oddly everything about him tugged at your heart. What the fuck. He wasn’t even really polite, his gaze seemed judging. The same gaze you laid upon other people. The people you often deemed boring and a waist of time. Now on you. The look, about to title someone mediocre. You knew it, so similar to your own… He was so….interesting. Made your brain buzz with thought mere moments after laying eyes on him. If you were to struggle to not converse with any candidates, it would be him. Your brain wandered to the wonderful conversations you could have and analyze. Oh, and his eye’s fought yours as well. You thought Tokimitsu’s were nice, but this boy’s took lovely to a whole new level. Breath taking. Enchanting, if you dared. His hair reminded you of something, you just couldn’t think of it at the moment…a certain animal. Hmmm.

“Hey Miss, why should I hand over my phone to you, you don’t look particularly responsible. What if you lose it, or damage my property? Hm?”

You blinked and snapped out of it.

“I’m only following orders. If harm were to come to your addiction device of devil, then you’d be fully repaid. You’d receive a new device as well as money.” You gave a slightly irritated smile. Though he was charming, he’d be a pain in the ass. Much like how you imagined how doing his hair in the morning was. “Please hand it over, sir-“

“Tabito Karasu,” He interrupted.

“Mr. Karasu, then.”

He handed it over and you gently placed it in the bag, so he was reassured it was fine. Though, you suspected he didn’t actually care all that much.

“You certain you’re qualified to work here?” You’re sure he’s referring to your casual outfit, sure it wasn’t fancy like Anri’s but why would you get dressed up to greet a bunch of lab rats? Hm?

“Very.”

Oh, what an interesting experience this was going to be.

Pt.1 |Pt.2 Coming soon!|

[differentdragonpeanutknight]

The character of Lloyd in my Ninjago AU

Another dive on one of the characters, this time the soon-to-be Green Ninja himself!

Misako gave birth to Lloyd a few months before Garmadon lost himself and got banned to the Underworld. She tried to take care of Lloyd for the next three years, she really tried. However, fearing for both of their lives, and with the desire to find a way to save Garmadon, Misako saw no other option but to leave Lloyd at the place she felt it was the only one that could keep him hidden: Darkley's Boarding School for Bad Boys. As for Wu, he himself had dissapeared for months after what happened between and Garmadon.

All that can be said is that Misako's decision gave Lloyd a bad turn in his life. Lloyd got shafted away by everyone until he had the age to begin studying. He didn't have any friends, and he always was the end of the joke. Everyone laughed about how soft he was, that his father abandoned him because of that. And there was nothing Lloyd could do.

He finally made a friend after a long time of loneliness. Brad Tutabone, the boy that took care of the garden. But not even him could help Lloyd enough as people kept bullying him anyway. The worst ones were Chad, Gene and Mikey. Those three never left him alone.

That's why one day Lloyd snapped and promised that he was going to show everyone how wrong they were about him, how he was going to be the baddest of them all.

Of course, he was just lying to himself.

He wanted to escape, he wanted to be free. Lloyd couldn't take it anymore, so he always ran away. Away from that people, away from everything that made his life miserable.

Trying to the evil lord people at Darkley's wanted him to be, he ended up meeting the Ninja, and they didn't had a good first impression.

After that, Lloyd saw everything. He saw their fights, their skills, their happiness, their...

Love for each other.

And there was also Wu with them. Lloyd heard stories about Wu in Darkley's. He was a hero of the land, after all. Why did he seem so happy with the Ninja? What about Lloyd? Does his uncle not care about him at all?

But eventually Lloyd learned that yes, he cared about him. Wu wanted to keep Lloyd safe, away from the danger. He let Lloyd live with, and didn't asked for anything.

Lloyd wasn't a fan of the ninjas, however. They didn't treated him bad, but they weren't the most kind people to have around.

Maybe except for Kai. That guy was a little distant, for sure, and Lloyd was a bit unsure about being around here at first.

But Kai understood him. He took some time of his day to see how Lloyd was going, to talk with him and sometimes even play with something.

That didn't help much some of Lloyd's feelings. He did so much bad things, caused so many problems, but Wu and Kai gave him so much kindness. That made Lloyd feel bad about himself. Did he actually deserved all that kindness? At least, he wanted to do something to compensate them from every wrong he did.

And now here he is, inside of a cage in the den of snakes, honestly hoping that he can be saved one more time.

[cemeteryspider]

Obsessions

Short-Lived Queen Maeve x Homelander's Sibling! Reader

Warnings: Heavy Sibling x Sibling implications. HL is gross and has an odd obsession with himself which will be a part of the story a little bit going forward. There will be nothing explicit but for reference Reader-Insert is of age and I'm thinking mid-twenties and Homelander is a little bit older since I'm pretty sure his age is never stated in the show. If you are looking for a Homelander x Reader THIS IS NOT IT!!!

Summary: This was the day you decided that you were done being Homelander's pet, and wanted something more than the gilded cage he provided you. Based on the Marina and The Diamonds song Obsessions.

Trigger Warnings: Abuse, Violence, Sexual Content, Mental Health Issues, Controlling Relationships, Gross Sibling Relationship

Word Count: 1.9k

Sitting up in silk sheets, high up in Vought Tower looking out into the city somehow made you feel vulnerable. As if you couldn't fly or laser your way out of most situations that life threw at you. The rest could be solved with tight clothes and flashing your white teeth at the nearest camera or the person with the deepest pockets.

Still standing near the full glass window, you felt the cool glass pane under your fingertips, imagining the dizzying free-fall to the concrete below. Sometimes you fantasized about what hitting the ground would feel like, but mostly you stood far away from the window. Waiting for the day you weren’t scared to fall.

But like usual you walked into the bathroom and shoved your toothbrush around your mouth trying to get rid of the gross morning breath. This was the part of your life Vought and your brother tried so hard to scrub from the public's view. The part that made you feel human. Brushing the grossness from your mouth in the morning, picking at the skin around your fingernails, your bleeding and cracked lips from years of biting. All private, photoshopped, and covered in a thick layer of make-up.

When you inspected your face in the mirror you found tear tracks running down your face. Gently you wiped one with your finger and inspected it. Many things baffled you about being a superhero. Mostly it was the thought that you could give hope to so many people but you couldn't pull yourself out of your own despair. Still you rinse your mouth and splashed your face with freezing cold water, trying your hardest to clear your mind.

Then the door to your room clicked open as you stepped out of the bathroom. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, readying yourself for the day,”'Hey John, what are we doing today?"

You turned to see your older brother looking at you. He was already dressed in his suit. Some things never change after all, "Well a meeting with the rest of The Seven, training, a new movie we have to go over the details of and I don't know maybe we fly around and go get some dinner."

He always had your schedule memorized. You didn't even need to think about talking to Ashley because he was wholly concerned with where you were at all times. You used to be the same way. After all, the lab was so structured when you and he were there, and you were never far apart whether it be rooms separated only by a wall, which never did anything with the two of you having super hearing, or being burned alive together and watching the other regenerate one painful skin cell at a time.

Always together. Halves of the same coin. That's what they always told you and now what he tells you every chance he gets. Roughly, he grabs your arm and pulls you close, his breath hot against your face. This was his way of showing his power over you, and you didn’t show fear. You simply stared him down.

"I've gotta get dressed, John," You tried not to fight him. It always ended up worse when you tried to fight him.

He let you go and your feet hit the ground with a rough thump. You hadn't even noticed they weren't on the ground.

You changed into your suit, nearly identical to Homelander's in every way shape and form. Except you refused to have a cape on your suit. You didn't want to be like him in any way now but this was the only modification you were allowed to make without serious repercussions from your brother.

He was facing away from you but the fact he could turn, and that you could do nothing about it gave him power.

"Come on, sweetheart," He held his hand out for you to take and you did with an almost imperceptible sneer. He pulled you into a tight hug. You could hear him sniffing your hair while his hands found your waist.

You could feel tears welling in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away with one lingering thought. What a creep.

~~~

The conference room was not nearly any better than your room, that was except Maeve was on the other side of Homelander quietly looking over at you. Making eye contact was difficult with her because when you did, you were sure she was looking directly into your soul.

It wasn't that she knew what you were going through but that she could empathize with you. She was Homelander's girlfriend to the public after all. She was no stranger to the gross comments or too tight grips when you get close to saying something wrong or too personal.

You zoned out of the meeting. It was always the same thing with this group of complete idiots. You could feel The Deep's eyes on you, Noir was doing, well whatever he was doing, A-Train grew impatient next to you, Maeve tried to speak her opinion, while Homelander took over the conversation, and you sat there. Thinking.

Who would join you if you started fighting Homelander right now? Maeve, definitely. The Deep, would probably be too shocked to do anything. A-Train would probably be in that boat too, but may eventually step in to your aid. Noir might knock you out after one hit on him.

Another thought... Where would you go if you left? California, maybe, you always wanted to learn how to surf. Ireland, the rain might suit you well. Antarctica would be ideal. You doubt he would look for you there. A small smile crossed your lips and you thought about living in a romanticized version of Antarctica. An igloo perhaps. You would befriend penguins and do absolutely nothing. See no one, no cameras, no fake saves, just you and the endless snow, white in all directions like a visual static.

"...What do you think about that, Y/n?" The Homelander looked at you expectantly. You had no clue what any of this was pertaining to, just that Maeve was smiling and nodding her head.

"Absolutely, I agree and I can't wait." You gave the most generic answer you could muster along with a fake smile.

He smiled back, seemingly satisfied with the response you gave, "Starlight is going to be here tomorrow and you all will be on your best behavior. Make her feel welcome if you see her, we will have another meeting the day after tomorrow to introduce her to the team."

He stood up and clapped his hands, "Alright let's go, save the world people."

You got up trying your best to get out before, "Y/n... a minute please," his smile was that of a predator waiting for its prey to stop and smell the flowers.

"I'll catch up Maeve," She shot you a worried look but you waved her off, you would find her soon enough.

Once the room was vacated his smile snapped off his face, and he quickly stalked his way over to you, "Are you trying to embarass me in front of the team."

His hand found its way around your throat and squeezed, "I mean you're off in your own little dream world. Doing what exactly, you have everything. Adoring fans, a stylist at your beck and call, anyone you want at your fingertips, and most of all you have me."

Then his grip loosened and he looked sad. A wolf in sheep's clothing you had to say, "Is this not enough for you. Am I..."

You kicked him hard and he stumbled back as he landed on the ground, "Get off of me, John. Get a grip."

You nearly ran out of the room when Ashley opened it, clearly not aware of the unscheduled sibling meeting going on in the room.

~~~

"I think this should be a story about love persevering," John said extravagantly talking to the writers after taking his time to cool down, "Maybe a fight against an evil set of twins trying to I don't know this seems like a job for the two of you."

He gestured to the writers and they started jotting down ideas on their notepads, sometimes exchanging ideas with each other and writing some more. You were just staring at the wall across from you thinking about how easy it would be to laser a hole in it.

"I was also thinking," He drew the attention back to him, "Maybe I could save, Y/n, you know carry them off into the sunset."

Your eye twitched and you saw the writers glancing nervously at each other out of the corner of your eye.

"Well, sir, that's a bit..."

"Well you know..."

"What? Kind of what?" John asked and you could almost feel the heat rolling off of him.

"Creepy, John. It's creepy." You said glaring up at him from your seat on Ashley's leather couch.

He scoffed a little, "Well that's not the way I meant it."

"No John, all you ever think about is sick ideas involving me and you, and I'm sick of this!" You gestured around the room as the writers were sneaking out of the room. Ashley came between the two of you.

"Okay, I'm sure he did not mean it in that way. Why don't we cool down and come back to this script later, okay?" She was stepping on eggshells, and you knew you couldn't get her involved in this.

You may not like each other, but there was a tentative sort of mutual respect between the two of you. So you left. The two of you were making her nervous and you couldn't let her get hurt in whatever storm was brewing between you and your brother.

~~~

You didn't feel like doing anything for the rest of the day so you just went back up to your bedroom and laid on the bed staring at the ceiling. You played your favorite game, pretending that you didn't exist and you were just a particle floating in your room. Observing the world impartially and without any thought in particular.

That was until Maeve found you, unmoving. Just staring a hole into your ceiling. So she sat you up and shoved a water bottle to your lips and told you to drink. It was filled with Vodka, which you happily accepted. By no means were the two of you drunk, but it may have played a part in the following actions.

One minute you were talking about how stupid The Deep's facial hair was, the next her lips were on yours, and then you didn't have clothes on. It was a fast progression but not an unenjoyable one. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt so comfortable with a person, but then you realized it was never. You were a science experiment. Tested on with no remorse and shoved into playing the part of the hero.

So you savored each moment her lips were on you. Every time her tongue entered your mouth. Every touch she gave you. Every hair pull and every ounce of pleasure you tried to engrain in your memory.

The next morning when you slid yourself out of Maeve's arms and towards the window you didn't think of falling, but instead you thought of flying far far away from here. Even better taking down Homelander and spitting in his eye.

This was your second wind or maybe it was your third wind by now but that didn't matter. You had a purpose, and you had every intention of living up to it.

[cosmicobubisi]

Cosmic's Malleyuu Whump vs Flufftober: Day 11

convenience store | loneliness | "leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist" (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs) / Ingredients & Spells

After all these years, he still hadn't gotten used to the harsh, flickering lighting of the store.

It provided the slightest bit of mental stimulation, however, in these long nights.

Malleus thought about a great number of things while he worked the counter, metaphoically chasing his own tail as he engaged in endless arguments with himself about books, music, history, and anything else his mind could grasp on.

He'd wanted to try movies, wanting to understand what could be done with the ability to meld so many art forms, but his father, while not forbidding it outright, never liked it when they watched too much TV.

But of course, there was little his father liked about Malleus.

One of the many endless arguments he had with himself, standing motionless at the counter, was on whether or not his father liked him or not.

Some days, it was easier to argue for the defense. On others, he found himself slipping into the role of 'prosecutor' with ease.

The main argument for the former was that he'd kept Malleus. He'd grown up hearing about his father's two great loves, his mother and their mutual friend, and how empty his life had been after they had passed.

Malleus was a lot like his mother, as his father liked to remind him frequently. He knew his father didn't mean it maliciously- at least, not always.

But it was that undercurrent of bitterness that fueled his argument to the contrary.

The match between his mother and his father was an unbalanced one, and as a result of that, his father explained, he didn't often know how to care for Malleus, which is why he had all these strict rules.

He never knew whether it was these unholy traits, or his simple resemblance to her, or the reminder of the life he'd lost, that had left it impossible for his father to look him in the eyes past a certain age.

His father's fears of television weren't totally unfounded. Nor were his father's general fears of his own son.

Sealed milk was fine, but milk left to sit out tended to curdle around Malleus. Cut flowers in vases seemed to wilt extraordinarily fast when he was at home, so his father stopped bringing them in. And animals never stuck around him for long.

They'd tried to go to a petting zoo once, but when all of the rabbits backed away from him and pressed their tails up to their cages, he realized they only stayed because they could not run away.

Malleus didn't always stay on one topic for the entirety of one night, preferring to jump around to the most interesting parts of his discussions, chewing on these bits of conversation like a bone. The one time he did, however, manage to focus on just one idea for the whole night, he came to the conclusion that it must be a shadow of an existence, to resent a child born of so much love.

He was ripped quite suddenly out of his thoughts by the most shocking, surprising thing of all- the digital chime of the bell, and the swing of the door.

Malleus watched in stupefaction as the stranger gave them a small smile, and them began rummaging through the stages of cellophane food and prepackaged cups of soup.

He never swayed. Malleus usually stood stone-still in the best of cases, and it had been a source of ridicule in the past, but right now, his every muscle was tensed, like that one time a butterfly had landed on his nose.

The stranger's face was mostly obscured by the hood they wore over their head, and the shadow it cast covered most of the rest. Only their mouth was visible, and that told Malleus very little.

They took a can of soda from the fridges, then put it back. instead, they grabbed a pack of banana chips, a little toothbrush, two individually-packaged painkillers, and then went back for the soda, as well as a bottle of ginger ale.

Malleus couldn't help but feel the tiniest of pinpricks in his heart at that. He loved banana chips, and his favorite drink in the store by far was the ginger ale. It was his drink of choice, and the combination was his go-to snack, as he was allowed to pick two items every night he worked.

This small, insignificant connection to a complete stranger knocked him so off-kilter that he hardly noticed when they plunked their stuff onto the counter.

Jolting out of his rapture, he picked up the banana chips and scanned them, instinct kicking in.

He moved to drop them into a bag, but the stranger said, "I don't need a bag, thanks."

They said it so routinely, as if they refused plastic bags all the time. Slowly, he placed it back onto the counter, but a little farther away from the rest of the purchases.

He scanned the ginger ale, savoring its coolness beneath his fingertips, when the stranger said, "Are you here a lot?"

Malleus looked at them for a moment, ginger ale in hand.

"Yes," he said, believing he should answer honestly.

"That's good, that's cool," said the stranger. "Must be nice, to stay in one place for so long."

Another thing his father didn't like is when he got too close to other people, emotionally or physically. He always stressed the necessity to leave no trace anywhere he went, to exist as if he simply didn't.

"It can be," he replied, feeling his heart race.

"You guys have a lot of good stuff here," said the stranger, inspecting a few of the smaller goods they kept on the counter.

They were holding a packet of mints between their fingers, Malleus unable to take their eyes off of them as he scanned the travel toothbrush, when something like recogntion flashed through them, and they hastily threw some gum, then one of the little energy drinks, onto the counter.

Malleus looked at them, and they shrugged. "These too, please."

He acquiesced.

"Do you mind if I give you my contact info?" they asked suddenly.

Malleus was caught offguard by the question for no more than a moment, but the stranger was already pulling out something from there pocket.

"Here," they said, handing him a business card. On it, the words "Yuu | Certified Geological Surveyor | Paranormal Investigator | Confectioner" with some contact info below that.

"Can I contact you? About when you guys get in new stuff?" the stranger, whose named he assumed was Yuu, asked.

"Yes," he said again, not knowing how else to respond as Yuu handed him some cash.

"Great," they said, picking up their stuff. "I'll see you again."

As they walked out of the store, their hood fell, revealing a grey cat wrapped around their neck.

Unsure of what else to do, Malleus watched them until they left, and then turned back to face the racks of food in cellophane, stilling as he always did.

[fairy-verse]

I just realized out of Murder Time Trio...has anyone asked about Murder/Dust Sans yet? If not perhaps what is their season and role..?

There once was a fairy of summer so pretty, with a radiant ecto body of blue and lilac and eye lights so tender, his gaze could render the brightest of flowers dull and weak, and yet none of it mattered as he fluttered too close to the borders of Nightmare’s domain, blinded by his playful hunt for brown rabbits that hopped along the grassy floor. Captured and bound he’d been and forced into a small cage with other fairies, some of the seasons, others not. Within there, he met Papy, a faerling just shy of reaching his full growth, yet ever the small one despite his size. He cowered and shook from fear, but the summer fairy so fair took him and cared for him, promised him they’d be safe.

He would protect him.

Alas, he could not keep it. Days turned to months turned into years and torture unimaginable chipped and chipped at his mind, until one day there was a loud crack within his skull, and he laughed and laughed as the poison forced into him ran its course, twisting his magic and making him feral and tense; ready to kill everything that moved.

He only did it to save them. They were all so broken and their light had gone out. They wouldn’t have survived a day out in the free anymore. They wouldn’t have… surely… but killing his adopted little brother had been the most terrible of all. He reached the day when he came of age, and yet he wasn’t given a chance to even attempt a celebration as the summer fairy’s once fair hands sliced across his throat, severing his skull from his neck.

Papy cried as he died, and the summer fairy once fair and kind cried with him, even as he smiled.

Dull and lost he wandered for many moons after, not knowing how he’d been freed; let go? It’d all been for naught or had it… he could scarcely remember anything anymore, dazed and broken as he was. He’d found his way home, to the valley of warmth and comfort, but fairies fled at the sight of him, fearing his crackling and unstable magic. He left, not even given a moment to attempt and regain his mind.

What did his firstborn look like again?

It was so cold. His wings were frozen, and his legs were numb and with each step taken, he leaned ever more forward, at the brink of unconsciousness. He knew not when the first days of winter arrived, but it mattered little. Death by the cold was a just fate for him; for what he’d done. He would gladly have accepted it even as the world tumbled, and he fell upon a soft bed of glittering white. The snow was cold for a moment, but only for a moment before too soon, it turned comfy and pleasant, and hands were upon him; gentle and careful, and warm.

First, there’d been a flower, kind of face, and soothing of hand, but he’d not been fully present at the moment to take her in. She passed and a new face took her place. This one must once have been soft, it bore memories of softness, but the jagged hole that took up the top of his skull made him rugged, yet even so his touch was that pleasant heat he longed for.

“pretty… summer fairy?”

Oh, this fairy of winter called him pretty, yet it was the fairy of summer who had never seen anyone more beautiful.

He couldn’t remember the face of his firstborn.

“.. dust,” he croaked, weak from desiring winter sleep, yet he refused to close his sockets again, willing them open. “…’m dust…” He’d forgotten his real name.

“dust…” the winter fairy said his name in that deep, pleasant voice of his. Dust loved hearing it. No one had spoken to him in… in…

“i’m…” the winter fairy hesitated. “… i’m Horror.”

Dust was held close to a warm, soft body, and he involuntarily nuzzled closer to it as a shiver passed through him; the last of the cold leaving his bones. Such luxuries were spoiled on him, yet he couldn’t force himself to move away; to part from Horror who was so, so warm and good.

A clawed hand stroked Dust’s face and all willpower ebbed out of him as he relaxed, falling asleep before he could even notice it, yet not before he heard Horror speak up again.

“sleep... pretty summer fairy. sleep.”

[criminalmutantsins]

(MK1) Johnny's Life Headcanons

I love this version of Johnny. He has the perfect mixture of arrogance and wittiness while still being kind and serious at the most important times. I did a song headcanon post for him a while back and had a fun time doing it so I wanted to do another headcanon post for him and other MK characters. If you want to read my other post the link is below.

https://www.tumblr.com/criminalmutantsins/731871981377617920/mk1-johnny-cage-song-headcanons?source=share

.......................

TW: Mentions of abuse (physical/mental), alcoholism, bullying

- Johnny is the middle child with Jimmy being the oldest and Rebecca being the youngest. Jimmy and Johnny don’t get along because Jimmy follows in his dad’s footsteps and makes fun of Johnny for not being masculine enough. He has a really good relationship with Rebecca- affectionately calling her Becky- but their eight-year age difference made it hard for them to connect. Though he is glad she didn’t suffer the same abuse as him, Johnny is also a bit jealous of her because his dad would spoil and treat her like a princess. They call and FaceTime each other once in a while to catch up. 

- Johnny’s mom was the one who fostered Johnny’s love for 80s media. Whenever she had a rare day off, Johnny and her would dance and goof around while listening to 80s. His favorite artists were ABBA, Bee Gees, and Queen.  

- Johnny’s dad physically and emotionally abused Johnny. His obsession with control and masculinity led him to hurt or insult Johnny if he deemed him “not man enough” or somehow disrespectful. For instance, if he saw Johnny liking something seen as feminine like “chick flicks” he would berate him or if Johnny forgot to do a chore then his dad would beat him. His mother was not aware of the abuse due to working a lot, Johnny’s fear of retribution from his father if he told, and the abuse only occurring when she was not around. 

- School was not easy for Johnny. He was targeted for being the quiet kid and not being interested in typical sports (football, soccer, baseball), and being a part of the cheer squad. It ended after Johnny created his Cage persona, portraying himself as confident and witty, and his martial arts skills. 

- Johnny watched a lot of 90s sitcoms like “Full House”, “Roseanne”, “Boy Meets World”, and “Saved By The Bell” to cope with his broken family- his mother working almost 24/7, his father’s abuse, and lack of a relationship with his siblings- and bullying at school. He liked (and was jealous) that every problem was solved within 22 minutes and the main character had friends/family who were always there for them. 

- He also watched many martial arts such as “Enter the Dragon,” “Crouching Tiger,” “Hidden Dragon,” “Kill Bill,” and “Karate Kid.” He liked to imagine himself being the hero who defeated all the bad guys and saved the world. On top of that, watching the films with his dad was the only good time Johnny had with him.  

- Before his mother paid for karate classes, Johnny’s dad tried teaching him boxing at home. It was a horrible time since his dad would get angry with Johnny if he “did something wrong” like messing up a move or not wanting to hit his dad. As punishment, Johnny’s dad would punch Johnny until either he got tired or Johnny attacked back. This stopped when his mom saw his bruises- thinking it was only from school bullies- and signed him up for karate class, which Johnny grew to love and practice all his life. She also paid for gymnastics class after seeing Johnny’s interest in it. 

- During his first two years in college, Johnny joined a theater group where he created many meaningful relationships, such as Kelsey, his scene partner for some plays who became a successful actress and singer on Broadway, and Frankie, who was in charge of cosmetics and became Johnny’s first personal make-up artist. After college, the troupe meets every year to catch up. 

- Johnny is pansexual. He finds anyone attractive no matter their gender. He realized this in high school, though he didn’t feel comfortable coming out until he moved out for college. 

- He met Cris when she was serving them at a restaurant the theatre trope frequented. It was an instant attraction and Johnny gave her his number along with the receipt. He was surprised to see her attending the college too (she was a business major). They dated for two years and got married the year he got his first lead role. 

- Being very lucky, Johnny got his big break after two years of working minor roles. At twenty-two, he was a major character- comedic but badass sidekick to the main character- in an action, thriller movie because the directors were impressed by his martial arts and quick wit. The film’s major success and good reception to his character led to his first film as the lead.

- Johnny treats every staff member involved in his movies very well. He always thanks the make-up artists, costume designers, and prop designers for their towards him and his scenes. Interns love him because he treats them like humans- asks about their day and thanks them for their work- instead of errand boys. After filming, he always brings them a box of donuts as a celebration. Even the scriptwriter and stunt coordinator like him since, rather than rudely demanding changes, Johnny works to collaborate with them to make his scenes (and sometimes the movie) better. The only people who disliked Johnny were the directors and it was out of bitterness that most of Johnny’s ideas were better than the original premise. 

- After five years of successful movies and a large, loyal fanbase, Johnny’s career started dwindling fast because the action/martial arts genre stopped trending at the box office and directors believed Johnny was incapable of portraying roles other than witty, comedic action characters. Though, he wanted to try more serious roles and genres other than action and martial arts movies but was scared his fans wouldn’t like it and abandon him. 

- This significant drop in his career caused Johnny’s depression to worsen and used alcohol to escape the stress and pain. His wish to rejuvenate his career became an obsession where he would rarely sleep, only focus on work, and neglect his relationship, especially his marriage. These issues and his unwillingness to recognize how damaging they are were the last straw for Cris. 

[argisthebulwark]

TES Summer Fest Day 5: forgotten/devotion

summary: Watching from a safe distance, Miraak loves every iteration of the Dragonbornborn that forgot him lifetimes ago. gn ldb warnings: non graphic mentions of death & grief @tes-summer-fest | day one day two day three day four

Miraak must be okay. It was his duty to withstand all the loneliness and regret that built up inside of him. Giving into his desires was not an option. His choice had been made ages ago and there was no going back.

He learned to placate the yearning that refused to cease. There was no harm in watching. The first true Dragonborn lived and fought, laughed and cried, all under his watchful eye. It became an interest that bled into obsession. He observed them through the eyes of others, ignoring the gnawing hole that had taken up residence in his chest upon parting from them.

Their love had been swift, cut short by a hunger he couldn't quell. Miraaak knew he was meant for much more, shedding the title of Dragonborn in search of something greater. He'd watched them drift farther away from him until the divide grew too great, reduced to spying on them through the eyes of their companions.

The Dragonborn's death ruined him. Miraak stood uselessly at his desk in Apocrypha, unable to do anything more than witness it. He could not intervene or comfort them as they passed, surrounded by those that had served dutifully as his lens into their life. Those that had not abandoned them as he had. Miraak watched helplessly as the one person he'd ever truly loved passed away.

Miraak fooled himself into thinking that the years had healed his wounds. He believed that he'd moved on. Loving and losing was something all beings had in common, even in his cage he was not spared from this. He carried on with his routine, scouring Mora's pages in search of what would allow him to ascend to the godhood he craved so badly.

Rumors of another Dragonborn being discovered caught his attention but he bided his time. Fear of being hurt once again kept the curiosity at bay. Miraak continued his work without daring to look, dreams haunted by what could have been.

Once the new Dragonborn was summoned by the Greybeards he reasoned it was only rational to peek. Miraak knew that the Dragonborn was the only mortal with power that rivalled his own, if he were to gain a new adversary it was only wise to see their face. Giddy with anticipation he returned to his desk, spying toward the continent he'd left long ago.

Their face was different, hair that had once curled was straight and braided back but it was them. Miraak caught glimpses of his Dragonborn in their mannerisms and the unflinching way they spoke. They smiled at something one of their guards said and the joy of recognition quickly burned away in the wake of Miraak's jealousy.

It was not the same face but Miraak recognized their soul, the fire burning in their heart. It was the same that had once loved him so dearly. He watched as unfamiliar lips spoke with a voice he knew so well, a body he'd never touched moving in ways etched into his memory.

Ages dragged on, empires rise and fell, but Miraak remained frozen. He became a silent observer to Dragonborn after Dragonborn, all different in their own ways but bearing the same soul. One had eyes that were so staggeringly similar to his Dragonborn Miraak bitterly began to wonder if the gods were toying with him. Perhaps watching them was a curse for turning his back on all he'd swore to uphold.

Jealousy became a constant passenger when viewing the Dragonborns. He watched them live, compelled by no force other than his own burning interest. He witnessed so many of them fall in love, aching with the knowledge that none would love them as truly or deeply as he had.

Learning that the current Dragonborn was intended to be the last finally spurned Miraak to rise from his desk. He would see Skyrim with his own eyes instead of through those of some random civilian. He would not let the last Dragonborn slip through his fingers without one final goodbye. Hope clawed somewhere deep in his chest that despite all the lifetimes that had passed they would somehow still know him.

Standing before the Last Dragonborn, heart in his throat and mask tucked under his arm Miraak's ancient heart broke once again. The one person he'd loved above all others peered up at him without a hint of recognition. Their face was different but that confused divot between their brows was there, the intensity of their stare. As he stood before the Dragonborn he loved so dearly he knew he'd been forgotten.

Miraak realized he'd become a stranger to them. His heart ached with the need to kiss them, to cradle that face until he knew it as well as the first Dragonborn's. He wished Apocrypha's texts had shown him some way to unlock past memories of the life they'd led together but his search yielded nothing. The Dragonborn looked through him, no recognition or love in the eyes he'd carved into his heart.

"Do I know you?" They spoke in a voice so similar to the one that had once professed their love for him. Miraak watched his beloved tilt their head and knew that he'd been forgotten by the one person he needed above all else.

"You do not," gloved hands twitched at his side and Miraak wondered how much he'd changed in their absence. "But I would like you to."