#although not perfect but still an improvement...

[scarlet--wiccan]

Agatha All Along, the highly anticipated follow-up to WandaVision, begins airing this week on Disney+. Now is the perfect to revisit some important information about both shows and the context in which some of Agatha's new characters are being introduced.

WandaVision primarily followed the character Wanda Maximoff and expanded on her family history by introducing her late parents as well her twin sons, who are born from magic and age rapidly over the course of the series.

In the Marvel comics source material, Wanda is part of a large, multigenerational family of Jewish and Romani characters whose stories frequently reflect the systemic violence and oppression that both communities face-- including Romani Holocaust victims, who are critically underrepresented in both education and media. In the MCU, these identities and histories are completely erased, and the characters are all played by white actors. Alternate versions of these characters also appear in the Fox X-Men films, and are similarly whitewashed.

The Romani people are a racialized minority that originated as a South Asian diaspora, and who face severe systemic oppression in Europe and North America. The modern Romani population is quite diverse, but they are not of white ethnic origin, and despite the fact that Wanda and her family have historically been drawn with white features, they are minority characters and ought to be considered as such.

Depictions of witches and witchcraft are often entwined with antisemitism and anti-Romani racism. In pop culture, witches and fortunetellers are typically portrayed as visual stereotypes of Romani women. In the real world, fortunetelling is a profession born from survival work, one which Romani families are often heavily policed and racially profiled for practicing. While Wanda usually subverts these tropes, they are often played straight elsewhere in the superhero genre, and any story about witches, especially one featuring Romani characters, needs to be critiqued in this context.

Agatha All Along introduces viewers to a new cast of characters, including Lilia Calderu, played by Patti LuPone, and the enigmatic "Teen", played by Joe Locke, who is heavily speculated to be an incarnation of Wanda's son, Billy.

In the comics, Lilia is a member of a prominent Romani family in Wanda's community. Often lauded as the "witch queen of the gypsies," Lilia embodies many racial stereotypes about Romani women. In Agatha All Along, Lilia is depicted as an older Sicilian woman, however, being portrayed as a batty fortuneteller with a tawdry psychic shop, she still embodies an offensive trope. Although Lilia is far from "good" representation, this is not an improvement-- if anything, it's even more exploitative.

Billy was raised in a Jewish American household and places a very strong emphasis on his Jewish identity, in addition to having Romani heritage. His identity as a young gay man is always presented in conjunction with this heritage, not in spite of it. Though there is a significance to Locke being a gay actor playing a gay character, his casting-- if he is indeed playing Billy-- is not authentic. White gay representation should not supersede racial inclusivity, and it is not an excuse for whitewashing or Jewish erasure.

Marvel Studios recently announced that the character Doctor Doom will be played by Robert Downey Jr., who is returning to the franchise after many years in the role of Iron Man. In the source material, Doom is also a Romani character with a very similar background to Wanda's. This identity is central to Doom's character-- although he is written to be both morally and politically challenging, the liberation of his people has always been a primary motive.

Clearly, this type of whitewashing is an ongoing pattern in the MCU franchise. Although "Teen's" identity is still unconfirmed and Lilia may, ultimately, be of little consequence, they are part of a larger problem, and Agatha All Along needs to critiqued in that context.

[inthemaelstrom]

So we're about six weeks out from another "most important election of my lifetime" and it's predictably making me literally sick to my stomach. When Trumpacabra got elected in 2016, I threw myself into politics in a way I never had in my lifetime and it almost wrecked me. I was one of those people who never voted for religious reasons (long, separate story) and I felt I had to make up for lost time. By the time 2020 rolled around, I was an unhealthy mess. I had stopped reading. Everything. When I wasn't watching MSNBC and political commentators obsessively, I started consuming absolute junk TV: home improvement shows, crack paranormal ghost hunter crap, etc. Things with no plot, no emotional investment, no danger. No fear.

Right before the 2020 election, old fanfic friends from my days in the Master and Apprentice Star Wars listserv found me and saved me.

They dragged me back into fandom, introduced me to Discord, and got me writing again. I updated a story I hadn't touched in 5 years. I made new friends online and in RL. I got some great fiction and fic recs from those friends and discovered a subgenre called Hopepunk—low stakes fiction with very little if any violence and fear and with happy endings. (Becky Chambers writes a lot of what I read, and Amy Crook has also become a favorite.)

One morning, I had one of those really vivid, realistic, linear plot dreams that literally dragged me out of bed to the keyboard. It was a meet-cute modern au of The Phantom Menace's characters, set in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I cranked out about 2000 words the first day. Then another 2000. Then another 2000. Then another 2000. And so on every damn day for the next four years until I had four novels, about 668k words, several timestamps written by three other collaborators who've come on board, some beautiful art I've been allowed to use, and now a fifth book in the works.

This is the Yooperverse.

It's not just The Fic That Saved Me, it's the place where I'm writing a vision of what the world could be like into being. A place where people with fucking obscene amounts of money don't spend it on themselves, or hoard it, or exploit other people to get more, but use it to help other people. It's a place where people who are bigoted dicks either get their comeuppance and crawl back under their rocks, or learn better and do better. It's a place where abused kids get rescued, everybody gets therapy and healthcare and is paid a living wage, people learn to value themselves and each other, and protect each other and defend each other. It's kinky and queer (although I'm neither) and above all, if not entirely safe to be both, I'm trying to write both things as just being another setting on the dryer. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It's not a utopia, by any means, because there are still assholes and the government is still ... the government, and capitalism is still a thing. There's some danger, especially in the first book, and there are accidents and illnesses and the vagaries of life. In the middle of the series, I had spinal surgery and was out of commission for a few months and that made me start thinking more about my main character dealing with aging and the limitations thereof. There's a LOT of mental health issues and the working through thereof, and a lot of ongoing process. Nobody's perfect. The world outside is still pretty much what it is. But in the little corners where my characters dwell, life is pretty dang good, sometimes great.

It's a vision of a life we all deserve. It's the thing I loved about Star Trek's universe, where people's basic needs are cared for and the obstacles to them developing their best selves removed. It's what I've loved about science fiction in general, especially Ursula LeGuin's: that opportunity to explore possibilities that are better than the present. It's modeled on the MacArthur Genius grants, but you don't have to prove your worthiness first. My main character invests in people's potential, young or old, with scholarships and grants and a steadying hand. His partner builds low or no-cost housing for people in need. There's an informal network of queer and straight kid rescuing going on under the noses of unfriendly governments and failed social service safety nets. The main characters build refuges, literal and emotional. They love each other fiercely and respectfully.

Right now, we're living in a country that is almost the antithesis of these ideas, for far too many of us. People are being manipulated by their fears, which are stoked by unscrupulous, lying shitbag politicians whose all too real evil would never make it past the pitch if you were going to try to sell it as a TV show or movie. They're consciously turning us on each other with lies about our common humanity, about the state of our country, about who and what's responsible for many of its faults, sewing suspicion and hate. And though the Yooperverse started as my personal comfort fic, I'm trying in my very small way to counteract what's happening in the world right now.

I've always believed in the power of story to change people's minds and lives, and I've experienced it myself. When I talk about story, I don't just mean fiction, though. I mean the narratives we tell ourselves and others about our own lives as a whole and day by day or moment by moment. I mean the stories we tell about each other when we're together, at the bar, at wakes, at a party. I mean the stories we invest in as fans in whatever kind of media we consume. I mean the stories we spin for ourselves and others to explain what the everloving fuck is wrong with the world.

Stories aren't separate from the world, they are the world. They tell it into being. They give it shape and purpose and meaning and a sense of possibility. Whatever stories we tell ourselves or each other about how things should be or how we should act as human beings (also called our "beliefs" or "morals" or "ethics"), they shape us, and we shape society. We are society, both together and as individuals. One person with a big voice and a story can tip a mass of people into either violence or solidarity.

I have no illusions that the Yooperverse will ever have that kind of power. It has a tiny audience on AO3 and Discord and it's mostly written for me to explore the things I feel deeply about, and wish I could do, and to teach myself to be a better person and live up to my own ideals. It's a world I'd like to manifest, to call into being, even in a small way. Even if it's just a story.

[mallywarez]

You being here...is not so great. So. Adios.

[everytimeiseeadragonirealize]

anybody else recreate entire shows in the sims 4, or like…. do you have a life?

[brinnanza]

I keep trying to gotcha my brain out of anxiety by thinking like well what can I do about it right now with what I have because often it's tangibly nothing but unfortunately I can always Plan and I don't really know how to respond to that because it seems like a perfectly reasonable thing to do when there's nothing else

[zriasstuff]

Them after especially rough ykyk

Slytherin boys x reader (hcanons, aged up to 18 years old)

Warnings: soft smut, 16+ I’d say (?), on my shit again after a long time I’m sorry, no Draco and idc if he’s the original slytherin boy, go on Wattpad if you want Draco bc there’s enough of him on there /jk but not rlly

Theodore Nott:

you’d be incredibly flushed afterwards, panting and still holding onto the sheets for dear life

your eyes closed, lips swollen and slightly hanging open, trying to get yourself down from your high

he’d immediately hover over you (still undressed, only in boxers), both his arms on your side to support himself

“fucked you a little too good, didn’t I?”, he’d cockily ask and he’d just gently stroke your flushed cheeks with his thumb

you would counter, but your throat felt too hoarse from all the obscene noises he had coaxed out of you

“c’mon let’s get you cleaned up, you did so well for me”/“you are always so good for me, my perfect girl” he’d praise you, knowing you would let him do it all over again just for him to call you his good girl

Tom Riddle:

with Tom it’s never soft, bu when you have a especially rough session with him, it is rough

afterwards you’d most likely still be tied up by your wrists, or facing downward with your face on a pillow, insides feeling twisted and hypersensitive

you would barely be able to move and especially your legs would be quivering if you tried to get up

Tom definitely knows when you’ve reached your limits, but sometimes he actively pushes those to remind you of your place, you are there for his pleasure

He isn’t the praise type, but he’d quietly clean up and allow you to cuddle him, but only if he felt completely fulfilled

Matthew Riddle:

usually it’s a mix of rough and soft with him, but both of you need those rough sessions sometimes for a complete stress release

afterwards he’d worship you from top to bottom, leaving soft kisses from your jaw to your stomach

he’d rub over all the hickeys he left, the bruised spots and your plump (fuvked out) lips of course

while stroking your hair he would tell you how much he loved you and how amazing it was with you

he’d help you get up and go to the shower, having a soft make out session in there of course, and afterwards do whatever you wanted

mostly it’d just be cuddling or talking

Blaise Zabini:

knowing that you didn’t use your safe word, he’d still ask if you were alright

after making sure, and checking up on you he’d make you sit up and sip some water (somehow he’d always insists that)

“you think you can handle one more?”, he’d jokingly ask to make you smile after having made you (s)cream

he’d want to discuss what went well and what could be improved upon, to fuck you even better next time

although that sounds like a joke, he means it fully

when you tell him that he couldn’t possibly make you feel better, or how good he is, he just smirks, knowing no one could do what he does

Lorenzo Berkshire:

he’d totally tease you so much, especially if you begged for him to go rougher

“I knew my princess liked it rough”/“just needed someone to fuck you into your place didn’t you”/“look at you, all fucked out like some slut, and enjoying it too”

of course he’d make sure you were alright too, asking whether he went too hard

“it’s hard to control myself when it comes to you y’know”, he’d seductively murmur in his deep voice, while caressing your body

after being especially rough, he would want to be the perfect boyfriend the entire week, attending to your every wish; basically golden retriever behavior

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE HUSBAND x GN CELEBRITY!READER

— based off of a dream i had of a childhood friend/crush. hiatus not over tho lol.

— morally bankrupt reader. clingy husband. the usual yandere stuff.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who was your childhood best friend. Your parents shipped you two since you could speak.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who had a crush on you since forever. He doesn’t even remember a time where he didn’t get butterflies and an aching need to be the only one close to you

YANDERE! HUSBAND who’s the biggest flirt. He knows you the best. Although you were completely oblivious. He’d always try to be around you, compliment you, tease you.

He’d give you matching keychains, and would beg his parents to buy whatever gift he’d think you’d like.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who sadly had to move away for a while. He comes back during high school. And the first thing he asks while he’s there? To be put in the same class as you.

Now that you two are older, you finally started to notice how much of a tease he was. Always grappling unto a piece of your attention.

You acquiesce and begin to date him. Not necessarily feeling anything for the guy but thought it was high time that you finally settle down. It was the perfect storyline you could share once your ambitions were fulfilled.

That and cause your parents would only let you go to acting school if he married you.

Which you two eventually did before college. Was it rushed? Definitely. Did you even love the guy? Nuh uh. But you had places you had your sights set on. And he was the only path.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who drops out to be your full time househubby. His parents could always give him a job at their corporation anyways. There was no real pressure for him to study and get a job.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who almost always supports your acting career. Watching all your shows, movies, and interviews. Basically buying out all the merch you featured in. And paying advertisers across the globe to have your face plastered everywhere.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who unfortunately stops you from having any romantic or sexual scenes. Essentially blocking you from any roles that could be your breakthrough just cause it could have a tiny kiss or so.

Your anger at his blatant attempt to have control over you began simmering. Ever so slowly reaching the surface. Not improving at all when you found out he’d been trying out a job that his mother gave him.

Fuck the gifts. Fuck the yachts and cars he’d swarm you with. Why did he get to do what he wanted and you didn’t?

So you follow him to work once, only to catch him in a compromising position with a coworker.

You didn’t care about him or his business beneath the sheets really. So you had to thank the gods above that you knew exactly what and how to do the following act.

Cry. Scream. Throw things at them.

The coworker already left. Shuffling as they tried to hide from your anger.

Your husband is unresponsive. Catatonic. Even more of an excuse to hurt him.

You call him filthy, uncaring, the worst man to ever exist. Hell, even some of your true feelings come out as you yelled about how you regretted ever being with him.

You find out later from his mom that he had been framed. That this coworker was just trying to get money out of the heir.

Still, you wanted out. He had already served his purpose and you needed to expand your horizons.

A week later of radio silence from him as you prepared the divorce papers he walks in.

Covered in red his hands caressed your face,

“You called me filthy did you not? So I cleansed myself with their blood.”

[unproduciblesmackdown]

another of their clips from the 6th annual show, ft. perhaps another moment of ewm laughing mid mister macabee performance (fun) and the bit i thoroughly enjoy of transitioning into that sustained [Aaaaaaaaaand] harmonizing for that sleigh ride verse / associated choreography (fun)

[wintertime-in-june]

A Marriage of Convenience

Colonel!König x Vulnerable!Reader

You sobbed, hot and heavy as tears streaked down your face. You looked at the email through bleary eyes one last time before swallowing the lump in your throat and letting out further cries.

Your visa had come to an end and your citizenship status was declined. You had to go back to your home country, back home, away from KorTac, off the Austrian base.

As König walked past the door to the empty teaching room in which you resided he heard it. The high pitched, sniffles and cries. No man on his base could make these delicate, heart wrenching noises, no, he knew it was you. His perfect little recruit, his good girl, y/n.

He stopped at the door to the room, ready to enter but wanting to do so carefully. Now was his chance, you were crying, upset and oh so vulnerable... in need of a big hero to swoop in and save the day. Now, he just had to find out what you needed and he could make all the pain go away...

He pushed the door open tentatively, trying his best not to nearly rip it from its hinges like he usually did. He scanned the room looking for his little girl and there you were curled up at the back, knees tucked against your chest, with your back against a cupboard. He couldn't help but smile at your small, helpless form. Quickly catching himself his face fell, back to its neutral, stoic stare as he shut the door behind him with a click.

You heard the door close and looked up to see the hulking man that was your Colonel walking towards you. Big, heavy combat boots trudging on the ground.

Your mouth fell into an 'o' as you attempted to wipe your tears away, shaky breaths and sniffles, trying to placate your crying.

The Colonel stood before you, looking down before he himself got down in a squat and eventually sat himself in front of you, arms resting on his knees.

"I'm s-sorry Colonel." You manage to stutter out, the tears having ceased but your choked up demeanour remaining.

He gave you a sympathetic smile, it was no secret he had a soft spot for you, although, no-one but him truly knew how deep it goes.

You gave him a small smile back, attempting to put on a brave face. 'Cute' he thought to himself as he tilted his head to the side.

"What's up kleine Maus?"

'Little Mouse', that was his nickname for you. You smiled a little at the use of the name, tears still brimming your shining eyes.

"I- I got an email," you managed to stutter out before the tears ensued once more, "they're sending me back Colonel, I don't know what to do."

You buried your face in your knees once more, breath shaking as you attempted to get some air in your lungs.

You unlocked your phone and passed it to König, letting him read the email.

"I don't want to go back." You said, barely above a whisper as you let out a shaky breath.

"I like it here," you continued, "I don't want to go back home, my parents... they're not nice... and here I get food and, and I have a bed."

You sob a little as you think back to your old life. Although the military was tough, for you it was an improvement, and you weren't ready to give all of this up.

König read the mail before placing the phone down. His eyes narrowed as you said why you didn't want to go back home. It upset him... no, it angered him that your home life could be worse than this. The one place you were supposed to have guaranteed safety and support and you did not.

"What am I going to do?" You said, choked up, lifting your head from your knees to look at the man that loomed in front of you.

"How could you stay?" König asked, already theorising how he was going to fight off anyone who would even attempt at taking you away.

"I would have needed approved citizenship, m- my visa ran out of time." You said, attempting to blink away tears but feeling yourself getting choked up again.

"But my citizenship was declined." You cried burying your head in your knees once more.

König let out a low sigh as he shuffled forward to sit next to you. When his back hit the cupboard that your own one rested on, it shook under the sheer force of him propping himself against it.

He snaked an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to lean on him. He rubbed the side of your arm soothingly, an expression of distain for the predicament resting on his features.

"O-or I'd have to marry a citizen, but that's not going to happen." You let out a shaky breath, almost like a laugh, as though even the notion was ridiculous.

König's eyes shot open, as if he was having a Eureka moment to say the least. His soothing rubs on the side of your arm stopping momentarily. "A-and why's that not going to happen?" He spoke perhaps too quickly, too eagerly.

You look up at him with a confused expression as if it were obvious.

"I don't have any boyfriend, let alone an Austrian one who would want to marry me in the next," you think for a moment, "...six days."

There is a beat of silence as König collects himself, tries to remain calm and chill.

"I'll marry you."

The air is thick with tension as he awaits your response. You can't believe what you're hearing.

"Really? You'd marry me?" You say softly, looking up at König with awe in your eyes. As if he'd saved you, as if he were your hero.

"But what about you? What if you want to get married for real someday, is there someone you like?" You ask, you couldn't believe he would do this for you.

He lets out a low chuckle, you don't even know the half of it. He wanted you, this was his dream, he could practically not contain the ecstatic happiness he was experiencing at your issue. He knew it was wrong. He knew he was a bad, bad man for enjoying this, but his heart was beating faster, he was holding back a smile and he couldn't help but seize this opportunity.

Before meeting you he thought he would die alone, but not from rejection, no, truth be told he has never been interested in a person enough to pursue them romantically, that was until you stepped into his office...

Perfect, cute, y/n, with an adorable little smile and oh... code violating underwear. That's how the two of you first met. On your first week, sent to the office by the Lieutenant for your dress code violations.

From that point forward he was obsessed, unbeknownst to you. You just thought he let you get away with more, being a girl and all. He was nicer, kinder, sweeter to you. Trying your baking, letting you sit with him at lunch, helping you over the walls in training. A caring Colonel.

"Come here." He said lifting you up and placing you in his lap.

You allowed him to do so, smiling a little, was he really going to fix your predicament?

He wrapped his large arms around you, thick muscles keeping you safe. You leaned into him hugging him back.

"I'm going to marry you, no-one is taking you away."

You couldn't help but smile more as you hugged him tightly. Your heart beating a little quicker.

"Thank you Colonel, thank you." You whispered.

He let out another chuckle.

"You know, you don't always have to call me Colonel, maus." He teased a little.

"What should i call you sir?"

"Mein Ehemann." he stated, petting your hair as you leant against his chest.

"Mein Ehrmann," you repeated, he smiled at this, "what does it mean?"

"Your husband."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, maybe this marriage would be for more than just convenience...

[writersdrug]

For the alpha/omega one, forced proximity on one of his missions he gets sent on, and she is basically standard issue along with his weapon. She’s around his stuff/in his bunk 24/7, her sent slowly permeating everything, eventually his mask, driving him crazy/rut if that’s interesting. She gets captured, he starts to realize how much he’d unconsciously relied on her, goes feral, tears enemy base apart and she nurses him back to health? Hehehehe I love feral könig

Oh, he's pissed.

Warnings: mentions of violence, attempted sexual assault (very minor and brief, guy gets what's coming to him)

When Ridgeback had informed the team that they had a new assignment, König was sighing in relief. Finally, a moment away from that damned omega. A chance to prove that he didn't need some weak, not-so-self-sustainable thing to "improve his performance" (if anything, you were just making him grumpier, with how often you complained about the standard-issued nesting material. He already said he'd buy you some new blankets, ok?!).

But then, Ridgeback announced that any partners belonging to the soldiers would be included on the deployment. Meaning omegas. Meaning you.

You weren't happy, either. You thought you were going to get an entire two weeks to yourself, including the entirety of König's room and bathroom and a chance to roll around in his clothes and scent uninterrupted. You'd get to chat it up with the sweet beta corporals that accompanied you to the mess hall in your Alpha's absence. But now? Being flown out to god-knows-where with König, a.k.a. Chuckles? With even fewer nesting materials of an even lesser quality? Great. Just perfect.

König hated how you were everywhere. He hated how your scent, ocean breeze and warm sandalwood, had clung to every article of clothing he owned. He hated how you built your (rather lackluster) nest in the top bunk with a literal wall of pillows around you - he wasn't even in there with you, why were you adding insult to injury? He hated that you were even here in the first place. Who's idea was this?! Now he has to growl at anybody that approaches his table in the dingy cafeteria where the two of you eat in silence, or sit in in the briefing room with you squished to near death in the corner, just to keep you away from other alphas. Not to mention, projecting his scent to cover yours is very inconvenient, you should really stop smelling so nice.

It was a breath of fresh air when they finally landed at the objective rally point for the mission - but the gunshots and acrid smell of blood did little to drown out the thoughts of you. What were you doing without him there to scowl at you? He didn't like the idea of some random beta from this random base taking you to meals, but it was better than an Alpha, he supposed. Your scent clung to his mask, and although it made his senses keener and sharper, he really wished it would just go away, so he could stop thinking of you and focus on the mission. Thankfully, it didn't last too long.

Thank goodness he was still in overdrive when the heli touched base, though - because he quickly found out that you were not where you should be: in his room. He'd have half a mind to think you ran off to do your own thing, if it wasn't for the sour scent in the room, rather than your usual sweet, slightly angry notes. You didn't leave intentionally.

Everyone was instantly on edge when he burst out of the room, nostrils flaring and pupils shrunken in his rage. Horangi rushed after him as König stormed throughout the base, following the trail of your scent (he has to make sure his friend doesn't kill anyone - innocent, that is). He hadn't claimed you yet; a decision he was regretting more and more by the second. What kind of Alpha was he? Leaving you alone on a foreign base without a nice, toothy mark on your neck. No, he didn't need you (🙄), but you were his. He should have made that clear. He didn't like it when people tried to take his omega.

It didn't take long before he heard you - some idiot Alpha had dragged you into the back of a humvee, and König could see your limbs kicking and scratching underneath the man (who had a decent, bloody scratch on his face - good on you). Your snarls and hisses echoed through the cracked windows - which König promptly shattered as he smashed his arm through it, grabbing the sergeant by his collar and pulling him out through the broken glass. You suddenly froze at the sound of the man being punched relentlessly, smelling a familiar cinnamon, woodsmoke, and earth, combined with the smell of blood. König's scent smelled like straight blood when he was angry, and it was terrifying, even to you.

Horangi was quick to interject König and his death sentence to the sergeant, pulling him off of the smaller Alpha - a bold move, even dangerous, but their pack bond was thicker than iron, and König wouldn't mistakenly swing on his friend.

Horangi shoved König back, muttering a quick "get your omega", before pulling the now-unconscious sergeant up by his armpits. "I'll do something with him."

König took a moment to clear his head, breathing in deeply and exhaling through clenched teeth. He then moved to the other side of the car with stride, yanking open the back passenger door and reaching in. You made a sound, a frightened squeak, still alert and cautious, as he promptly dragged you out from the back seat. After a quick brush of your clothes with his hand, making sure there's no lingering shards of glass on you, he tossed you over his shoulder with a grunt and made back for the barracks, leaving Horangi to deal with the soldier.

You assumed you're in deep waters with him now. König didn't say a word to you, just stormed through the halls and huffed at anyone he passes. You were a bit embarrassed by the whole ordeal: you had been dragged out, kicking and screaming (and gave a proper, internal fuck you to the surrounding personnel that did nothing) from the barracks, and now here you were, being dragged right back in - just without the protest.

He reached your shared quarters and shoved his bulky frame inside, kicking the door shut behind him. You were about to explain yourself when he slipped you off of his shoulder and put you back on your feet - then promptly leaned down and shoved his face into your neck, inhaling rather obnoxiously while gripping you by your arms. You whined at the sudden, atypical behavior, gently pushing against his chest to get away from the behemoth of a man. He ignored it, picking you up again and carrying you into his bunk bed. He drags you in between himself and the wall, chuffing when you fit so nicely against his frame. Had you always been so comfortable? Why didn't someone convince him to hold you like this sooner?

You, on the other hand, were not as comfy. This wasn't your nest - you didn't have that stupid, grey, felt blanket that was five feet too long, nor the extra pillows you had stolen from the empty room across the hall. You didn't have your border, your flimsy wall of protection against the rest of the world. You squirmed in König's grip, shoving against his taut abdomen and trying to climb over him. He growled, a sound that had you bristling for a moment, but you pushed past it.

"Gimme a sec-"

"Schatz, please-"

"Just a minute!"

He huffed and let you go; you scrambled over him and out of his bed, the thick, muscular cords of his abdomen tensing as you used it to support your weight. He lay on his back and sighed. He just saved you from some cocksure, weaker Alpha - weren't you thankful? I mean, really - this was truly insulting. Here he was (oh, look, his fist was bleeding from smashing the car window, didn't that show you he was a good protector? A good mate?), fresh off of deployment, fighting the demons of the world just for you, and you had the audacity to turn your nose away from him and shuffle back to your precious little nest. How sweet of you. Very appreciative, liebe. Why don't you-

He was torn from his thoughts when a blanket was tossed over him. He pulled it back, confused, as he felt you shoving pillows into his side. You tucked them around him, forming a barrier around the side of him that was closest to the edge of the bed. He watched as you fussed for a bit, beating and fluffing the pillows until they were just right. You then tossed one more onto the bed - one that was wearing his shirt as a case, which had him melting - and climbed overtop of him again.

His chest rumbled with an affectionate sound as you took a damp bathroom towel and began wrapping it around his busted hand. You held it against your chest as you curled into his side once more, not protesting or scrunching your face when he wrapped his other hand around your waist and rubbed your back. He preened when he felt the reverberations of your purr against his hand, your sweet scent filling the air and causing him to relax his shoulders and neck muscles. It permeated his brain and made his Alpha sigh with relief, happiness, and satisfaction. Your scent was finally untainted by that bitter, angry note that you usually had.

"Thanks for... today." you said, deciding to leave the details unspoken. "Sorry about the-"

"Don't be sorry." he rumbled, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your lower back. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"You couldn't be."

"Well, now I am."

You sighed, letting your eyes flutter shut. He's not so bad... getting sent off by my family to some random military company was bad, sure, but... my Alpha's a good one. This could be good.

"You're purring very loudly, schatz."

"Shut up."

[eumppattv]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ only for you

ᝰ.ᐟ pairing: riize x reader! fluff and slight angst ₊⊹

ᥫ᭡。 sides riize only show to you, their love ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

𓍯𓂃 shotaro- his serious side

although shotaro can be pretty hard on the guys during practice, he usually reverts back to his smiley self almost instantly. his seriousness with you is a different kind, one that lingers. you’ll be at home, and find him working at his desk. he will talk to you about what he’s working on, what needs to be improved and so on. you love see him serious about his work, and also see him be serious when it comes to your relationship.

𓍯𓂃 eunseok- his jealous side

let’s be honest, eunseok is unpredictable. you never know which version of him you’re getting. still, he’s usually pretty calm and collected. that’s why him getting jealous is always a shock to you. his usual calm demeanor is replaced by his need to keep you to himself. you’ll be talking to a member, and all is well until you’re alone. that’s when he will confess he was jealous, a pout adorning his face.

𓍯𓂃 sungchan- his anxious side

sungchan is playful, carefree and relaxed. you often find yourself flustered by his words and actions, with his confidence being his best trait. although teasing you is his favorite pastime, sungchan also finds comfort in knowing he can share his fears with you, without judgement. with you he can let the mask he puts on go, even if it’s just for a couple minutes.

𓍯𓂃 wonbin- his romantic side

wonbin can be very shy at times. to others it seems that you aren’t even close, and they wonder how you make your relationship work. but really he is just private, and behind closed doors he is as romantic as they come. he will often buy you flowers, and organize date nights. he will write you letters, songs, and send you romantic messages every day. that’s how he shows his love for you.

𓍯𓂃 seunghan- his insecure side

it’s true that seunghan never misses an opportunity to tease you. plenty of “you like me so much huh” and “you think i’m so hot” have been exchanged. but what he doesn’t let others see is the moments where he doubts if you really do love him. when he doubts if he’s the right fit for you. really he is just scared that one day you won’t be around, so he will put so much pressure on himself to be perfect. in the end, he knows you accept his confidence and his moments of doubt.

𓍯𓂃 sohee- his quiet side

if there’s anyone who can brighten your mood, it’s sohee. his loud energetic personality can make anyone’s day. but with you he can relax, and not have to worry about being the mood maker. afternoons are spent laying down on your phones, not thinking about what to say or what to do. with you, sohee can bask in silence- no expectations, just peace. and although he can be shy with others, the silence he shares with you isn’t one of awkwardness, but of love.

𓍯𓂃 anton- his loud side

everyone knows anton as the soft speaker, always teasing him about it. while he always shows that side of him, with you it’s different. he’ll let himself get loud when he’s teasing you, or when you’re competing against each other- mario kart gets intense with him. he’ll also be loud when he’s calling out to you, whether it be at home or at an outing. he truly lets loose with you, showing you how much love he has for you.

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[torturedbridgertonsdept]

Dance Lessons—

Colin gives you private dance lessons at the Bridgerton’s drawing room.

tags/warnings: fluff | 2.2k words | f!reader | friends to lovers esque 

“Try it once more, but perhaps focus on avoiding my toes as you do it,” Colin grunted, attempting to conceal a painful groan after you had accidentally stepped on his foot.

“I am god awful. How shall I have a successful first season when I dance like a lame horse?” You huffed, fussing at the scratchy tulle on the neckline of your dress.

“Do not be discouraged. I promise you are improving,” He gave you a sincere and kind look.

You deeply exhaled through your nostrils as you held out your hand toward him.

“You make it look so effortless, Colin. I shall never understand what sorcery you possess. You are talented at everything,” You huffed, once again following his lead in the dance. 

You knew Colin to be charming and handsome for his entire life. He was humorous, charismatic, and well-liked.

An encouraging smile appeared on his face while watching you take his hand gently encircling yours as a soft expression filled his eyes.

“That is because I have been doing it for years,” he chuckled, leading the two of you in the gentle flow of the dance. 

Colin’s eyes remained locked on yours, a soft grin on his face. “You’re making improvements I swear.” He assured you, tilting his head slightly. “I assure you in a few days, you’ll be doing brilliantly.”

Your eyes widened at the hope his eyes communicated back, however, you quickly looked away to prevent a blush from creeping upon your cheeks. 

“Well then, I believe I should take your word for it. I ought to trust my dance instructor after all,” You gave a warm smile back, focusing on reacting to his movements.

“Of course you should,” he replied immediately, a smirk quickly appearing on his face, as his feet continued to guide your own. “I’m always right, you should know that by now.” 

A hint of a smile was still on his face as he carefully led you to dance to the music coming from across the room. “Keep your head up and your shoulders back.” He suggested softly from beside you, gently adjusting you during the dance.

His light, mindless touches caused a stirring in your stomach. You were now finding the task at hand more difficult due to the manual control of your breath. Having this close of proximity to him was vexing, to say the least.

“Is this correct?” You inquired, keeping track of every step.

“Perfect.” He said gently.

Colin’s smirk widened a bit as the dance continued, he was unable to prevent the playful comment from leaving his mouth. 

“Are you certain you are focusing on dancing?” he teased

“What else could I be focused on? It already pains my head to remember all the steps to this dance,” You retorted, unsure why Colin was insistent on asking you something so uncharacteristic of him.

“Oh, I can think of a few things,” the smirk on his face widened as he spoke, almost challenging you to question him further. 

“Although, based on the way you’re gripping my hand, I doubt my theory,” he teased.

You scoffed in jest. “Colin, what are you on about? Do not confuse my head, I shall lose my focus and trip on your toes once more,” 

You were silently curious about the way he held your hip. You had never been touched in this way and somehow it felt more intimate than it was supposed to be. You refused to bring attention to it. He would surely mock you.

“Now, we can’t have that, can we?” He quipped, feigning worry over his toes and leaning in a bit closer to you as if letting you in on a secret.

His hand slowly rubbed his thumb against the material of your dress, a gentle, soothing feeling, and he chuckled softly. “My apologies. I shan’t tease you while you’re trying to focus.”

“It is quite alright,” Your words were stung out, wary of the feeling he was creating in the atmosphere of the drawing room.

You tried to brush off the feeling of his hand wrapped in the soft curve of your waist. It was as if it could ignite if you paid too close attention to it. Instead, you spun around him, feeling pride swelling within you as you had finally timed it correctly.

His smirk did not disappear as a look of pride flashed through his eyes, clearly happy that you were able to successfully execute it.

“Well done,” he praised gently, a hint of playful sarcasm in his tone. “I’m rather impressed that you spared my toes again.”

He pulled you closer as the music continued around them, a hint of genuine pride on his face, still. “See? You are indeed improving”

“I believe I should owe the accomplishment to you. You are brilliant, truly,” You sighed, stepping back to bow toward him.

Your eyes gleamed with appreciation. You blushed as you prevented your smile from growing wider. A brief pause of silence fell upon you two before you broke it.

“I was wondering if you’d save a dance with me at Lady Danbury’s upcoming ball?” You asked, fiddling with your gloves.

He chuckled softly as he mirrored your movement, bowing in return and his eyes flicked to how you fiddled with your gloves. It was as if anticipating just what he could do with this request, and he feigned shock, his eyes widening for a moment at your question.

“Why, I thought you’d never ask,” he said dramatically. “Of course I will.”

“Excellent,” You said in a happy breath.

Colin was well-known and well-liked, so surely a dance with him at the first ball of the season would catch the eye of many suitors. You enjoyed the confidence your friendship with him instilled in you. 

You stood before him a moment, watching his expression as he gazed back at you. It was a gaze that you had never seen before, it was hard to read. You stared back and blinked for a moment. Colin was well aware of your nervousness about your upcoming introduction into society and thus had agreed to be your partner in dance for this first dance. But now, as he stared down into your eyes, his expression softened and a thought suddenly popped into his mind. He wondered if others would notice the way your eyes sparkled now, how your hair fell around your face.

He shook his head slowly, gently coming back to reality before responding.

“Is something the matter, Colin?” You tilted your head.

He had been standing there silently looking at you. It was causing you to be self-conscious. 

“Nothing’s the matter, I promise you that,” he assured you softly. He didn’t quite want to admit what was running through his mind, so he simply continued to look down at you, studying your features.

“I was just thinking how nervous you are for the season, and how silly that is,” he said gently.

You giggled and mimicked the way he shook his head. 

“Is that not what a new debutante typically is like? You’ve witnessed three of your sisters debut in society already, surely you saw how terrified they were,”

You appreciated his attention, but you did not know of the extent of how he saw you. You only knew that you enjoyed his company more than others and hoped he felt the same. These dance lessons have been your favorite moments in your preparation for your debut.

“You make a fair point,” he said, chuckling as you mimicked the way he’d shaken his head. 

He was amused by the way you had mirrored his actions and then chuckled again at the memory of all three of his sisters going through their debuts.

“I remember how nervous they all were. It was very amusing to watch, I promise you,” he scoffed as he recalled the memory of their terrified expressions. “And yes, perhaps it is. All three of them survived their debuts, however. As will you.”

“You flatter me, truly. I do have high hopes for the season, I just wish it comes swiftly and I find myself victorious by the end of the season with a great match,” You nodded as you confessed your wishes for the season.

“Of course you will. Any man would be honoured to court you,” Colin watched the determination in your eyes and the hope in your words. 

He found it endearing how determined you were for the season, though a hint of worry flashed through his eyes as he realized that you would no longer need these dancing practices with him once you found a well prospect. You heard something vulnerable in his compliment. You felt it meant more than a friend wishing another good luck. Your brows lifted in surprise.

“And what of you? Are you planning to take a wife this season or have you set your heart on traveling once more?” You asked, your hand out and lifted toward him.

He chuckled softly and tilted his head. He was aware that you had noticed a hint of vulnerability in his words, but he masked it quickly and raised an eyebrow as he answered your question.

“You’re quite observant, aren’t you?” he mused. “If I am truthful, I have not yet made up my mind on that matter,” he answered with a playful smirk.

“Well if it is a wife you seek, I assure you, you will have no difficulty in it. I’ve spoken with other young misses in the ton, they say you are quite the catch,” You folded your arms and looked at him in admiration.

Colin chuckled and mirrored your movements, folding his arms as he watched you with a hint of amusement. He was certainly aware of all the many women who found him attractive, but that didn’t change the fact that you had spoken with other young ladies about him.

“Oh, you’ve been discussing me with other ladies, have you?” he said, raising his eyebrows in surprise, though he then smirked. “What exactly have they said, my friend?”

“Well, they do not say much beyond your heavy purse and your good looks, even when I remind them of your other wonderful traits,” You scoffed, thinking of those chittering ladies speaking about Colin.

You did share in the shallow nature of the surrounding ladies. You wished to find a man for yourself who was true of heart. Colin chuckled, noticing how you’d scoffed at the ladies’ comments. 

“I am wounded,” he feigned hurt and placed a hand dramatically on his heart. “All they seem to notice is my handsome face and fortune? How insulting!” he said, though a playful tone still filled his words.

You joined him in a laugh before stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Do not trouble yourself with that thought, dear friend. I know you are bound to find a lady who will appreciate you for your heart, which is larger than any I’ve encountered before,” You said very forthcoming, unaware of how it would make Colin’s heart swell.

Colin suddenly felt his breath catch in his throat, and a hint of vulnerability flashed in his eyes again at your kind words. 

“You say that with so much confidence, darling.” he retorted. “Do you know something that I do not?”

“I do not know much, but I do know a good man when I see one, Colin,” You said grasping your hands together in sincerity.

It felt delightful to instill confidence in Colin as he did for you. His shy smile was a sight to see indeed. You stared at him for a moment longer, melting under the effects of his dazzling eyes. You then cleared your throat.

“It is getting late, is it not? I must return home before my mama frays her nerves,” You said suddenly.

Colin was swiftly trying to recover from your words and the way you were looking at him. He couldn’t understand why he was suddenly feeling the way he was. No other young lady had that effect on him before. He glanced at the window, noticing that the sunlight was starting to fade slightly. “Ah yes, it is getting rather late,” he muttered in agreement. 

He looked back at you and felt the slightest hint of disappointment at the thought of you leaving.

“We shall see each other soon, yes? At Lady Danbury’s ball?” You asked as you reached the threshold, holding onto it as you waited for his response.

A feeling lingered that you still wished to spend time with Colin. You worried now that you would no longer see him as often as you’d like once your lessons had ceased. Colin nodded, shoving down that odd mixture of regret at the thought of you leaving and the realization that these dance lessons would soon come to an end. 

“Of course you shall,” he assured quickly. “I promised you a dance, didn’t I?” he reminded you, trying to keep a grin on his face to make this separation seem as normal as possible.

[deceitfuldevout]

Until Death (Part 2)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Husband!Rafe Cameron x Wife!Reader

Word Count: +2,021

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Domestic Violence, Humiliation, Branding, Forced breeding, Gun violence, Mild gore, Hints of misogyny.

Author's Note(s): I know this is over the top. I am on my period and only seek *violence*.

During the next few months, it had only worsened. Rafe was starting to feel comfortable around you now that his father isn’t keeping tabs. It was about time you had some marital training. From now on, no more hanging around those Pogue friends of yours. It was about time you started acting like a part of higher society. He won’t have you embarrassing him.

He’s let you get away with more than enough snarky remarks, and if you kept that stubborn attitude there will be consequences. Those days of rebellion are over now. He came up with the perfect routine to follow. As head of the house, Rafe expects certain things from you. To serve and obey like a good wife should.  

It took some time and effort but eventually you learned. Whatever it takes to ease that temper of his. You remember the first few weeks of training. When Rafe would chase you down the halls of the manor with a riding crop in hand. He wouldn’t hesitate to bend you over his lap if needed. He absolutely loved to play ‘cat and mouse’, taunting his prey before going in for the kill.

Rafe took pleasure in watching that flicker of hope burn out. When he would arrive home from a long day of work, he wants you waiting patiently at the door. As soon as he steps in you get to work, greeting him when he enters. You place a chaste kiss on his cheek. Rafe isn’t satisfied by your lack of effort. He doesn’t try hiding the obvious frown, “Sweetheart,” his voice is stern, “That’s not what I taught you,” he’s waiting for you to get it right.

When you lean in again, he wraps his arms around your waist. Rafe takes the opportunity to lift you a few inches from the ground. He places you back down with his hands still cupping your rear. He grips and squeezes at the flesh before delivering a harsh smack. Then Rafe finally let’s go. Now sporting a cocky grin on his face, “I’m starving, what’s for dinner?” he can afford a private chef but prefers a home cooked meal instead. It was his way of keeping you busy at home. He loves watching you on camera playing housewife.  

You walk with him the dining room where dinner awaits. It instantly improves his mood. Dinner was quiet. Mainly because Rafe did most of the talking. He would start with how his day was, then extensive detail of how his office life was, followed by how happy he was to be back home. You’ve already tuned him out. It took a while to realize he’d been calling your name.

By the time you’ve realized it he’s already lost his temper. He slams the dinner table hard enough to break out of that daydream you were currently in. You look up from your plate to find a very pissed off Rafe. You let out a string of apologies that are quickly shut down by him, “Don’t, not another word out of your mouth until we’re finished,” A quiet Rafe is never a good thing.  

Although you were exhausted from the multiple tasks today, you wanted Rafe to hear you out. So, you try to make up for it the only way you know how. Dressed in a seductive camisole that was hiding a lacy two-piece. As soon as Rafe spots you he’s at a loss for words. This time it was different, you decided to take charge by straddling his waist. You brought his hands to your hips before fastening your pace. Rafe stares back with hooded lids. There’s a look of hunger in his eyes. That’s exactly where you need him. Desperate and wanting.

He lifts his head to catch a breast, teasing the other with his free hand. You moan with pleasure, raising your hips faster to catch the rising orgasm. Rafe could feel you were close. His hand dips down to find that bundle of nerves. He gives it a few rubs before tugging at it. You instantly melt into a puddle of pleasure. Your head falls back as you felt the wave of pleasure hit. After coming down from your high that’s when you realize the slick between your legs. Rafe came, hard.

You were stuffed to the brim with his spunk. He held you close, gently turning the both of you onto the bed. Your head now pressed against his chest. Rafe doesn’t pull out, he doesn’t want to. He seemed much more relaxed than earlier. That when you decide now would be a good time to tell him, “Rafe…" you start to plea your case, “I miss my parents,” you just wanted some space. It was something he’d been dreading of since the beginning. Rafe knew very well you were a free spirit. It would take some time to break that out of you. He needed to make you more reliant on him. So, for the past few months he’d been tampering with your birth control.

Yet no news of a pregnancy was made. He assumes it was from stress. What was stressful he hadn’t a clue. He gave you everything. What more could you possibly want? He huffs, “Fine,” grabbing your jaw to face him, “But I’m coming along,” he’s not going to risk you falling out of line. The last thing he needs is for you to embarrass him. Tears of joy stream down as you kiss him repeatedly. He couldn’t hide the grin on his face. Not when his adorable wife was so doting over him.  

As each day passed, Rafe began to grow weary. He was nervous taking you out for the first time. His suspicions only grew when you start to pack a few bags. To his knowledge this was supposed to be a short trip. He chose the very day you were going to leave to start an argument. He'll be damned if he's sending his wife back to the cut. What if you ran away? Or worse, you running away with some Pogue. He'd grown suspicious for a while now.

It was the day of your trip. After waiting for Rafe downstairs, you try searching for his whereabouts. To your surprise, he was still sat at his desk. You couldn't believe it. He hadn't even bothered to pack his bags. Hell, he even had the gall to be upset. This wasn't fair, you were the one who was supposed to be in a bad mood.

Rafe starts, "Where is it?" he states. You roll your eyes, "Where is what Rafe?" as soon as he stands you step back. Already prepared for the worst as your hands fly in front, "Rafe..." tears begin to brim. You blink them away. It''s not like they would help. You sigh, "Where is what--" that's when he pounces, Rafe grabs you by the arm and pulls you to his desk.

He slams you against it with a 'thud'. All the air escapes your lungs. At that moment you start to cry harder. He growls in your face, "Where the fuck is it?!" Rafe had grown suspicious when you stopped wearing your wedding ring. He wants everyone to know you're off limits. You try to catch your breath, still attempting to muster up some words, “It doesn’t fit me anymore…”

“Bullshit,” "N-no! I swear! It doesn't fit me!" you're a sputtering mess. Tears and spit ran down your face. Rafe doesn't buy the act, not one bit. He wants you to prove to him your loyalty. He flips you over, pulling up your skirt before yanking down the garment. He aims his leaking tip against your folds. He fucks you against his desk, grunting into your ear a string of curse words and threats. Rafe reaches for something next to him, “You won’t wear the ring? Fine,” he picks up a wax stamp, still warm from earlier.

Still hot to the touch. Rafe presses his entire bodyweight on top of yours to prevent you from escaping. He traps your hand under his, isolating your ring finger from the rest. That's when you begin to panic, “Rafe! Rafe let go! Let go of my—“ You spot the tool in his hand. Now you were certain that he intends to burn you with it.

You thrash against his larger body, trying your best then break free form the grip he has on you. He takes the heated brand, hovering right above your digit. He then presses it tightly against your finger, ignoring the wail of agony escaping your lips. The smell of burning flesh consumes the room. A part of you wants to hurl from the stench alone.

When he pulls it away you cry harder. Rafe is in awe as he stares back at his initials now permanently burned into your finger. Fuck, he's never been more turned on in his life. Rafe thrusts his hips at a faster pace. He came with a roar, emptying a load deep inside. That's when he pulls something from his pocket. Your wedding ring. Rafe presses his lips against your ear and whispers, "Here, you won't be needing this," he drags the ring down your abdomen and past your mound. He coats the ring with your arousal before pushing it inside.

His fingers reach as far as they can go. Your breath hitches, feeling his thick digits stretching you. A whine escapes your lips. You clung to the desk for dear life. Rafe leans back in his chair, lighting up a cigarette to get a good view of his girl. He feet give your legs a light kick to part them. His cock twitches at the sight of his spunk leaving your womb. He watches as you attempt to push the ring out, evening offering to help get it out.

If the treatment wasn't humiliating enough, he would always find a way to make it worse. You turn around, now leaning against the desk with parted legs. His hands reach in between your legs. As one of them pushes a few fingers inside, the other toys with your clit. Rafe retrieves it with that same triumphant look after getting what he wants. This was the final straw. Your finger stung, you were tired and in unimaginable pain. Yet still, that spark of anger over came all senses, "Keep it, I want a divorce," with that you left his office.

You could hear Rafe's steps approaching and make a run for it. You beat him to the nearest guest room, locking the door behind. Rafe continuously slams at the door, "Don't even think about it! You're not leaving me! Do you hear me?!" Rafe screams your name at the top of his lungs. It startles you. When he starts to kick the door that's when you attempt to hide. Quickly finding a place under a bed. After a while the sound of Rafe's voice starts to die out. Hopefully his anger would subside, and this would all be over with. But all he could think of was how to get through this door.

A wave of relief is shortly lived. Until the sound of a gun firing is heard on the other side. Rafe shoots the door a few times until the lock finally breaks. You muffle a sob when you spot his feet standing right in front of the hiding spot. He calmly calls for your name, "Baby...please come out..." his voice is calm, too calm, "Don't make this harder for us," as if it would help. What other choice did you have?

You held out a hand. Rafe bends down to pull you out from underneath. He held you tightly, as if you'd disappear at any moment. He never sounded so desperate in his life, "You're not walking out on me," his grip tightens, "You will never leave me, do you understand?" he expects you to answer. Of course, you caved in, "I--I understand..." a stray tear escapes. Rafe's expression quickly changes. He swipes it away with the back of his thumb, "I love you, you know that, right?" his voice breaks, yet there are no tears.

That day you had to explain to your parents that you'd fallen ill. But don't worry, Rafe would take care of you. Through sickness and in health as promised.

[noira-l]

Just the Two of Us

chapter summary: there is nothing like arguing with your pretend ‘husband’, right?

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

wc: 2,9k

warnings: swearing, argument, adult life is kinda hard, higher-ups are fools, angst from Megumi, mature themes, slight mentioning of sexual activity, spoilers (manga, anime, movie).

author's note: well, we began here. I hope you like it, and I can write you more. I'm still experimenting with style, and genre, so please be understanding. You're welcome to leave some notes and comments to help me grow :3 I would appriciate it.

s.masterlist

𝟏. '𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡'

You used to love summer.

Beautiful weather, long bike rides through the unknown corners of Tokyo, trips to arcades with Suguru, the beach with Shoko and Utahime. Just the good old days.

Now you hate summer.

You feel like a curse has fallen on every summer, starting with the star plassma vessel incident. All the worst things that are supposed to happend, happen in the summer.

And this summer was no exception.

Tsumiki, whose condition no one was able to recognise.

Megumi, who, due to her sister's situation and the stress of his lack of fully mastered powers, made him even more grumpy than ever.

And Satoru.

Oh fuck Satoru

You've never seen him so pissed off, higher-ups have never been kind to you, you've always known that. You've seen it yourself many times. But now? Suddenly now they have a problem with Megumi attending Jujutsu High?

The number of your visits to them has increased dramatically, which has only contributed to constant bickering over really unimportant trifles or hiding grudges where there were none. Your home turned into a veritable minefield filled with anger and bitterness. And every day you wondered what you were going to step on this time.

You knew that if things didn't improve, all those wounds and worries would seep deep into each of you, and you didn't want that.

Even though your marriage only existed on paper, you genuinely genuinely cared for him. And he cared for you.

After Suguru left you didn't think anyone would be able to understand what you were feeling, Satoru proved you otherwise. You were both experiencing the same thing, it brought you together in a way, enough to open up between you and form an alliance of sorts that no matter what fate brought your way, you would deal with it together.

The foundations of a perfect marriage? You laughed under your breath. If this marriage was still made for purposes other than convenience in paperwork and ease of custody. You have never had a wedding, you don't even wear rings, you don't even act like a couple. You are both just good friends who grew up to become good parents. Always complementing each other. At least you tried.

The beginnings were difficult, that's a fact, you were both still young at the time, you didn't know how to do certain things, and raising 2 children was never part of the Jujutsu High education programme.

When you graduated, you both left school with broken hearts, old hurts and the hope that your dream of a better future for the young would become a reality. There was almost no talk of romantic feelings.

Almost.

On the day of your fifth wedding anniversary, out of boredom and slight compulsion, because you should at least celebrate the round anniversaries of your arrangement, you opened the sake that Nanamin had bought you for your first anniversary. As a conpensation for saving him from death on that day, which was technically supposed to be free for you. Both of you ended up on the couch, after drinking the entire bottle, fucking like the horny teenagers you still were somewhere deep inside. Satoru never had a strong head. Both of you, in the morning after a strong moral and general hangover, decided that it was better not to return to this situation and just forget about it. As far as this situation can be called a romantic feeling. Although you wouldn't call it that.

Satoru did not know the concept of personal space. And everyone who knew him was able to confirm this. Interestingly, you were the only one who was able to get close to his real personal space. Sleeping in the same bed with you for so many years, he had learned to reflexively switch off his infinity and cuddle with you in his sleep. At first the single bed was because you couldn't afford more than one, Satoru wasn't yet the head of the clan at the time and thus didn't have access to this sizeable fortune. Over time you just got used to it and the idea of sleeping separately seemed strange to you.

You caught yourself dreaming of a bed and his warm arms after another hard mission. You know he had the same thoughts coming really late at night, just to undress himself, and hug into you.

You both crawled into your routines. You've built what you dare to call 'home' on these foundations.

It was not perfect, the life of a jujutsu sorcerer was never strewn with roses or easy decisions but this 'home' was yours. You knew it along with him. And you were proud of what you had achieved together.

You didn't want all that had been built up with your hard work to be undone by one really hard summer. You didn't yet know how you were going to resolve the situation and how to talk to Satoru about it, but one thing you were sure of - you weren't going to give up.

There really is something wrong with this time of year, you sighed as you entered the flat you were renting.

"I'm back." you said rather loudly, you knew Megumi should be home at this hour. You went to the kitchen, put away the shopping nets you had made earlier and began to arrange the goods you had bought, leaving only what would serve for tonight's dinner. You took a small box of strawberry mochi out of the nets, you knew they had been going around Satoru's head lately. You placed them on the kitchen counter, adding a small heart sticker. For some strange reason, everyone in the household liked how you added those colourful stickers, even Megumi loved them, though he wouldn't admit it like Tsumiki did.

My little Tsumiki.

You were angry with yourself, unable to recognise what had actually happened to her and why it had happened so suddenly. You were angry that no one could recognise it. The amount of time you spent guessing, trying to recognise and the trial and error method, exceeded the numbers you knew. You tried, but it wasn't enough. You blamed yourself in advance for not defending her against it.

"What's for dinner today? I'm starving honestly~" you heard a voice behind you and turned around.

"Oh, Satoru, I wasn't expecting you so early. How was the mission?" you had already started preparing today's dinner. Satoru sat down at the kitchen island, not far from you.

"Can we not talk about this shit?" he sighed playing with some dark-haired boy's pencil.

oh…it's bad, isn't it?

"We can." you replied trying to think of something quick to talk to him about. "I bought you something." you pointed towards a small box. The white-haired man just glanced in that direction and a smile dawned on that face again.

"Aww~ Is that for me?" he reached for the casket with his long hand and opened the lid. "Did I mention you're the best wife in the world?" his giggle would be heard from down the street.

Of course Satoru loved sweets, especially the ones you bought him, because you always took care when choosing them, not buying just anything, but really what he liked.

"Sometimes you mention it to me." you said, throwing all the ingredients into the pans.

"I should to it more often then," he said with his mouth stuffed with one of the mochi. The sight of his satisfied face really filled you with small happiness.

"Where's Megumi?" you asked while stirring the contents of the pan.

The strongest merely sighed.

"I asked you to avoid difficult topics" his face was again filled with another mochi from the box.

You walked over to him and took the box from him.

"Why? You're so cruel, you know?" he merely asked pouting at the sight of you taking his joy.

"You'll get the rest of the packaging, after the meal." you stressed, and he continued to pout. You put the box back in the cupboard

"So, where's Megumi?" you asked a second time, pressing for him to answer you.

"You know how young people are today, they just leave without asking, without saying anything to anyone" now your sigh was overwhelming.

"You two had a fight, didn't you?"

"Ayay, I wouldn't call it a fight, more of a youthful rebellion on his part, you've been seeing this kind of behaviour more and more lately. You know, he's maturing. Aren't you proud?" you grabbed your temples where am I going to find him now?

"And how long ago he went to his…" you looked at him seriously "…'youthful rebellion'?"

Satoru glanced at his watch "Hmm…. Like 3 hours ago?" your eyes were the size of coins "But I'm not sure." he added in wonderment

You're going crazy here.

"And you allowed him to have these rebelions at this hour?" Satoru merely shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what you mean, if he wants to go out then let him go out, he is capable of defending himself, after all he has unlocked to some extent his powers-"

"But not as much as we would like" you sighed "not as much as he would like." you vigorously stirred the contents of the pan, trying to pour all your anger into it so that it wouldn't accidentally be shown in words.

"You're being dramatic, it's only true to a certain extent. He has more potential than anyone else so far, I believe in him…. Which doesn't mean he's not a little weak right now." you froze, stopping the wooden spoon you used to turn things in the pan. Your own memories flowed into your head like water.

He had said something like that to you too. When you were still in high school, he could, like a complete asshole, ridicule you for hours and hours, about how you had no powers at all and were weak. You always ended up then in Suguru's arms, who was probably the only one who seemed to know what you were up against in those moments.

As it turned out, his derision found no cover in reality when one morning, after Suguru had left and after your arrangements had been made, you flashed the same eyes at him that he has, explaining to him why he could not use his techniques at that moment. The shock and disbelief that appeared on his face was payment enough, for the lack of apology on his part (for which you are still slightly angry) and for all the mockery you have bravely endured over the years.

You know what it's like to feel weak. You know what it's like when no one believes in you, when you yourself want to give up on yourself, trying to convince yourself that what everyone around you is saying is not true. You know how much hardship and effort goes into not just training, but convincing yourself that you are worth something. You don't want Megumi to ever experience the same sense of powerlessness that you had to endure. Especially not from the same person you had to endure it from.

"Did you tell him that?" you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him, trying to control yourself.

"What?" he asked still playing with the pencil in his hand.

"That he's weak." you must have said it really threateningly because Satoru's face immediately changed expression, you were able to see it right away despite his bandages.

"I didn't necessarily use those words." he said moving his gaze from your face to the pencil.

You took the frying pan off the fire and gave the pot of water in its place.

You sighed gathering in yourself not to do anything stupid today, although he really asked for it.

"You can't spill such words right and left. Not you in particular. " you said it as calmly as you could, turning towards him.

"I don't see the problem. I told the truth, besides I also stated the fact that he has potenc-"

"Of course everyone for you is weak, Gojo" he knew that when you addressed him by his last name, something was wrong or he fucked something up. "Which doesn't mean that everyone wants to hear about this fact. Do you realize what he's going through?" you asked the question into the ether, after a second adding "Well, yes, of course you don't, you've always been the strongest after all." The stupidity of your statement was killing you. You were able to understand his lack of competence in identifying with those weaker than himself, what you were not able to accept was how he was flaunting it.

"You are not weak." he said this while looking at you intensely.

"And after how long did you find that out? You oppressed me for years. It only changed when I showed you my technique." why do you sound disappointed?

Satoru would be lying if he said that his respect and view of you did not change after you showed him your powers.

"You know the higher-ups don't want to think about letting him go to school, and I don't understand why at this point in time you have to conclude that he is weak."

"Just not this topic, again~ We were already at such a family atmosphere." White-haired growled sighing, squirming in his chair

"What do you mean, I was the one who had to defend him from them again today-" you crossed your arms

"You talk as if I didn't do it myself yesterday" he growled, his voice rising "They keep sending me like an errand dog, on every fucked up mission they can think of, and I do it all without a moment's rest. Today I refused to meet with them, I'm shirking everything I can. I'm sick of listening to old idiots who care about rules that have long since ceased to apply. And! Of course the Zen'in clan has a problem with everything."

"As if your clan was so conciliatory.." you snarked with a wince.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" he indignantly replied.

"I met your mother today and she made it clear that she was 'expecting a grandchild' " you turned quickly to throw things into the pot of boiling water, you could see Satoru grabbing his head "She stated that 'it's my duty as your spouse', it's enough for her that she covered herself in shame when our secret wedding came to light. It surprises me that she is eager to make such statements, not being the head of the clan and still having a problem about what was almost eight years ago."

"Don't worry about it, I'll call her out." Satoru sighed. Despite the fact that you were standing with your back to him now, you could feel his gaze on you.

You needed a break. A break from the curses, the higher-ups, the arguments and the flurry of responsibilities. You knew Satoru needed one too. You stood there in thought, leaning against the countertop and looking at the pot with its boiling contents, when unexpectedly you felt a touch on your waist.

You looked up to see his silhouette pressed against your back. "I'm not the best at words or expressing feelings, as you've become familiar with more than once.." he laid his head on your shoulder "but I don't want you to feel like shit, these last few weeks are probably making you tired too."

Gojo was known for not respecting other people's personal space, this time he used it in a good way. You turned to him and snuggled into his warm torso. He held you in his arms for a few moments, stroking your hair and inhaling the scent of your perfume that he, himself had bought you for Christmas. He casually turned off the cooker, when he decided that what you had thrown into the pot, had cooked.

You didn't even know you needed it. His uniform completely smelled of him, despite the fact that you picked it up from the laundry literally yesterday.

It's funny how much his smell started to be associated with safety for you. Maybe it was because of that one mission where he held you the whole time in his arms when you almost died, or maybe it was just out of habit and years spent with him. You'd swear, you could fall asleep here and forget all your worries.

The sound of your burbling stomach snapped you out of this bliss. You looked at each other, you with an embarrassed face and he with an amused smile.

"It's going to be all right, we'll work something out, as always." he said, kissing you on the forehead. You didn't expect such a gesture from him. He guessed it from your face as he took his hands off your waist, moving away from you and putting his hands back, this time on your shoulders.

"Now let's eat something, you're not the only one who's starving." he said then turned on his heel and headed to his previously occupied seat.

"Find Megumi first, then you'll get your portion." you said and he snorted with laughter "Are you ordering me around?" that smile of his lead you to many things.

"No, I'm giving you a challenge, if you find him quickly your dinner won't get cold." you waved your spoon at him lightly.

His smile only deepened "I can take orders like that every day~" he said then immediately disappeared behind the wall, leaving you alone.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission.

[vexis-world]

“You can't seriously be that dumb..!”

💗 Clarisse la rue x daughter of Apollo!reader one-shot 💗

Authors note: hi reader!! This is my first fan-fiction post so I'd love any constructive criticism to help improve my writing for the future! This is not beta read so it's far from perfect - but I hope you will still enjoy it nonetheless :)) Ty for reading! 🫶

Short summary: Clarisse has some doubts about your "relationship" and seeks you out to speak about her worries.

Word count: 940ish words!

Clarisse’s mind was swarming with thoughts; it always does when she trains alone. She thinks best in the training arena, it's in her blood after all. You and her had been in a relationship for almost 3 months now and hadn't kissed yet. Which isn't a big deal! Clarisse doesn't mind, at least that's what she tells herself. But this is her first relationship, and she doesn't have anyone to unload this onto. To ask advice without having to reveal too much about herself, and her most private fears. She knew that you wanted to take things slow. Although it was not confirmed by words, Clarisse could (in her opinion) read her ‘girlfriend’ well. However when was slow, too slow? Were you having mixed feelings all of a sudden? And if so why had this not been brought up? Clarisse believed that you two were close, as ones in a romantic partnership should be; but perhaps not as close as she had originally thought.

Clarisse took large and fast steps, speed walking over to you. People moved out of her way, they could tell it was urgent and that they shouldn't mess with Clarisse at this moment. Or any moment for that matter.

“Hey Clarisse!” you spoke enthusiastically, finishing up a patient in the infirmary. “Pretty girl, explain something to me.” Clarisse's words make you blush, faintly; you had mainly gotten used to her flirty remarks these past few weeks, but she always manages to catch you off guard, every once in a while. “Ok.. what's up?” you asked, in a nervous tone. You could clearly see the distressed look on the girls face. “It's sort of private, can we speak in the back?” this added to your nerves, clarisse was usually never this off. “Of course, is everything okay?” but before you could finish your sentence, clarisse had already walked over to the back of the infirmary and into the supply area.

The supply closet was cramped with the both of you in there. Clarisse had to push up against you with an arm over your head for you two to fit somewhat comfortably. “Clarisse, is everything okay?” you asked again, this time hoping you would get a straight forward reply. “Do you.. Have you um..” clarisse stuttered avoiding your concerned gaze. “Have you lost feelings for me or something?” she finally mutters. You spent a minute gathering up your words, to find a way to reply. You bit your lip with furrowed brows, before the words fully processed and then said. “What..?” Clarisse had a strange expression on her face. “It's been three months and we haven't kissed or held hands in public. We don't go on proper dates. I feel like you don’t like me” she says quickly with an eye-roll included. “Clarisse, what are you on about..? Why would we kiss?” you asked hesitantly. “Why wouldn't you? Were in a relationship, isn't that kinda the norm?” This left you frozen. You were shocked, obviously but also majorly embarrassed. Had you been in a relationship without even knowing it? And to your crush no less. Fuck. “.. relationship?” you said nauseously, with butterflies in your stomach. “Clarisse, is this some sort of sick joke..?” you added, with shallow breaths. The room was getting stuffy and suffocating. “What do you mean sick joke? Have I ever lied to you? Are my feelings a joke to you? Is that it? Forget it. If I make you this fucking sick then good thing you're in the infirmary. I'm leaving, let's not talk for a while, 'kay?” she pushes past you. since you two were practically melted into one another, you could feel how she'd gotten warmer and how her heart rate had gone up significantly. You try to go after her but just as you do, your brother, Will asks you to tend to another patient that had just come in. He calls over his shoulder. “trouble in paradise? Gonna have to wait, I'm afraid - I need some help over here!” leaving you even more puzzled.

An hour or two goes by since you spoke with clarisse, and she’s consumed your thoughts entirely. You decided to speak to her at dinner and try to resolve whatever happened earlier.

“Clarisse, can we talk? Again..” you whispered, almost begging. “Kinda busy. We’ll talk later.” clarisse brushes you off to finish scraping her offerings into the fire. “Please clarisse. I need to speak to you. Just for a second.” you plead. “Two minutes. Two, that's it.” clarisse says, her eyes finally looking up from fire to the now very interesting sky. “Thank you.” You sigh and lead her away to a more secluded area as she had done with you. “I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. And they're not a joke to me. I'm just confused. What did you mean by relationship?” Clarisse replies by saying “what do you mean, what do i mean? We're dating, aren't we?” you take a pause, dumbfounded for the second time today. “Since when? Don't take this the wrong way but.. I don't remember you asking me to be your.. Um.. girlfriend.” your voice is wobbly and uncertain, you try your best to make your words seem kinder, as to not offend clarisse again. “Well, I guess I never asked but.. Oh.” Clarisse's words end as she parts her lips. She's realised her error. And so had you. You let out a breathy chuckle and say “maybe this time you should actually ask me.'' Clarisse looks at you with much more confidence now, her infamous sly grin back on her perfect face. “Maybe that would be best, sweet girl.”

[farshootergotme]

Now that I have the confidence to send you asks, fully expect me to bug you periodically from here on out

Anyways- do you think Dick qualifies as a scapegoat? Cause I 100% think he's a scapegoat. People always try to shove the 'golden child' role onto Dick, and it always confused me cause like. He doesn't fit it at all if you actually look into what a golden child is.

Dick is definitely one of the scapegoats of the batfamily (Jason being the other) and it makes me sad that people always label him a golden child when he's the exact opposite. Seriously- he's hit, beaten, unfairly blamed, lashed out at, not told about important things (Jason or being replaced, Jason dying, Jason's funeral, probably other things, i wouldn't be surprised), etc. Definition of a scapegoat to me.

It's also why I hesitate to label him the 'favorite' even when the comics try to say otherwise. Mostly because... favorite children aren't really treated this way. Favorite weapon, maybe, as I've said in a post I've made before, but that's it. Bruce wouldn't kill for him or any of his kids. He's come close, yeah, but he's also come close to killing the Joker too after Jason's death and had to be threatened into not doing it. Every time, it's in a strong surge of emotion, and the second Bruce thinks rationally- well, he doesn't do it. Dick isn't at all unique, Bruce wouldn't kill for him either.

I think Bruce is the most proud of Dick, and has a unique relationship with him due to knowing him the longest and the parentification, but I don't think that makes him the favorite. Maybe to the other batkids, but probably not in reality.

I don't think Bruce really HAS a favorite- Dick is probably the closest to it, but still.

Though, if you wanna play around with angst and fanon ideas, maybe both Dick and Jason are the favorites and that's why Bruce treats them the worst? Dunno, it'd make a fun fic, even if it's not really grounded in canon (though I ignore RHATO and Comic UTRH).

Idk. Just,, gestures. Dick is a scapegoat to me.

Hope my 2 am rambling made sense lol

Okay, I see you, but I'll argue:

Dick Grayson is both the scapegoat and the golden child.

Now, you might not believe this since he doesn't tend to be both at the same time, and it isn't common for these roles to exist within the same individual. But Dick Grayson is praised and favored as much as he's blamed and pushed.

A golden child is the one who carries most of the expectations in the family. The parent expects them to be perfect, make no mistakes, take on roles they're pushed into with no issue (thus parentification can happen), and continue on and on to be good enough and meet the criteria so they don't make the parent disappointed.

The love is conditional hence they develop this unhealthy perfectionism and self-esteem and self-worth issues that will follow them till adulthood even when they're out of that environment and living their own lives.

The reason why a parent might choose a specific child (or children) to be the favored one is because they tend to see this child as an extension of themselves. And consequential to this, they will project their insecurities onto said child and force them to improve—be the best—where they fall short. All of their capabilities are overvalued, making the parent see them as special and much better than the rest, causing the unrealistic expectations a child must hold and fulfill so as not to “fail” their parent(s).

Although this child might seem like the favorite and who could do no wrong on the outside, the love they receive isn't something they can take for granted.

When a golden child underperforms or isn't as good as they're expected, the parent’s demeanor might change. They will feel the disappointment and fear this might cause the treatment they get to change. Sometimes the child might even fear abandonment or rejection from their parent as a result of their failures.

The mix of all this turns into a person who's over-competent, hard-working and someone that tends to take charge of things so they aren't at risk of failing, making them ‘natural’ leaders in any group they might be part of.

Sounding familiar yet?

Now, let's move on to the scapegoat:

A scapegoat child is the one that is blamed by all the things that go wrong in the family. They are constantly criticized and shamed by things they might've not even been part of, but somehow they're now involved and taking all the blame for the others so there are no consequences for anyone but them.

(All the blame also messes with their perception of certain events, making them prone to self-blame for the problems that occur in the family or their behaviors towards them.)

The scapegoating in the family may be due to subconscious projection from the parent when they're dealing with difficult emotions such as shame, guilt, rage, etc. They feel threatened by their own feelings and therefore they will try to escape from them by externalizing those feelings and making them their scapegoat’s problem.

Because of this treatment, the scapegoat might become an outsider in the family, feeling excluded and isolated from the rest. And for this, when push comes to shove and they're going through a rough patch, they will not have any reliable support they can go to inside the family as they'll be ignored or otherwise unfairly treated, having their feelings be invalidated.

Like the golden child, there's some aspects the scapegoat shares with the former:

Being treated differently by the parent/family.

Having unrealistic expectations placed upon them.

Being pushed into roles or responsibilities the child isn't meant to take.

Fear of expressing how they feel.

Self-worth issues and low self-esteem.

Although they're usually roles that are considered opposites, they aren't as incompatible as one might think. A child can alternate between being a scapegoat or the golden child, and this usually happens when the parent is very emotionally unstable, commonly due to a disorder such as narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) or borderline personality disorder (BPD).

(I have so many thoughts about the latter applying to Bruce, but I will refrain from elaborating to not make this longer than it needs to be)

Having all I've said until now in consideration, I'm sure you've noticed how Dick meets both criterias—dare I say the golden child more often than the scapegoat.

Bruce is always speaking about how Dick is “better than him” and “the thing he's ever done right”, but in both of these statements you can see he's taking who Dick is and making it as something that's part of him, comparing Dick's accomplishments to his and putting him in this pedestal, and because of this projection happens and Bruce starts seeing Dick as an extension of himself.

This is why, when he or Dick fail, Dick will suddenly become the scapegoat, contrasting with the former golden child position he was in.

Here you can see the high expectations, praise for his accomplishments, his siblings feeling like Dick is better than them (i.e. treated differently than the rest), and you can also see how when he doesn't meet the expectations, he's met with disappointment (see: Alfred disappointed he's not as bright as he usually is) or judgment (see: Bruce angry at him because he isn't committing to his cause as much as he expects him to).

And these are examples of Bruce being too harsh on Dick and expecting him to do better, blaming him for his brother's death, and in result Dick having a habit of blaming himself and accepting mistreatment, thinking it must be his fault.

More often than not, Dick is put on a pedestal by his family and even his friends sometimes. They praise and love him, but when there's occasions in which he's acting less than perfect, the treatment towards him can change.

Dick Grayson can be the golden child as much as he can be the scapegoat.