#always in need of them they have like healing powers i swear

[allmyandroids]

desperate need of first seasons Data boobies

[thealbatrovss]

nightmares come true // logan howlett x reader

summary: you get hurt during an intense battle

oneshot: ANGST, comfort. Swearing, injury, violence

word count: 2k

I’m currently taking fic requests btw!!! masterlist

The bleeding wouldn’t stop.

You could’ve sworn Logan described this exact scenario to you before. Down to the very last detail.

A few times actually. It was only ever after you calmed him down from the nightmares that he told you what they were really about.

They were the same, each time. Sometimes the location or clothes would vary, but the outcome never changed.

They were of you. Dying in his arms. In a pool of blood.

Death was something Logan never had to worry about. His powers wouldn’t allow it. But, when it came to you, that was a whole other matter. He thought about it all the time.

When the nightmares returned, and they returned often, they filled him with so much fear it scared you.

He woke with your name on his lips. You whispered words of comfort against his sweaty skin. And wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck and told him you were safe. That he was safe too.

All those nights, you combed through strains of wet hair and held him close, waiting for his breathing to steady. Sometimes his claws would come out. Thats when the night terrors were really bad. On one occasion, they accidentally cut you. Logan refused to sleep in the same bed for days after that.

He would always ask you if you were okay after those frightful dreams. Every single time. And you’d tell him you were and hoped he’d go back to sleep. But you knew he stayed up. Afraid take he’s eyes off you. Afraid the dreams would become real.

Were you slipping into that dream now?

Kurt held your head in his lap. He pressed down on the right side with shaking hands, muttering under his breath. Something about God and healing. You didn’t really know, your hearing and vision were both fading.

He applied more pressure to your wound. The pain was so bad you wanted to scream. It was the kind of pain that made it impossible to think, talk, breathe, or do anything.

Your heart was beating for its life. The pulse pounding in your brain right where it hurt the most. It grew bigger and bigger. Your head was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode.

The ship shook violently, the battle outside raging on. You thought you could hear Logan shouting for where you were. But you couldn’t tell. There was blood in your ears.

You pleaded with the universe that Logan wouldn’t see you like this.

Another shockwave hit the plane. You winced from the sudden movement, your brain throbbing underneath a relentless force.

“I need… I need to help them.”

But Kurt wouldn’t let you move. You caught a glimpse of crimson on his blue skin and underneath his nails as he gently pressed you down.

“They’ll be fine.” He assured you. You were too exhausted to protest, your body sagging against your friend. “You just need to stay still.”

The constant rocking back and forth of the plane and the ground rumbling beneath you wouldn’t let that happen. But Kurt kept you as steady as he could.

Flickering red and orange lights illuminated the windows. Smoke billowed past, creating dark clouds. You noticed you couldn’t smell the fires burning. You could only smell metal. There was a man shouting at Kurt to open the hatch.

He carefully laid your body on his jacket, now soaked with blood. Your blood. You'd have to buy him a new one if you made it out of this mess. The thought brought a weak smile to your face. Kurt pressed one of the control buttons and the hatch slowly opened.

Logan couldn’t wait for the hatch to finish opening before rushing in, still asking for you. His black suit was full of holes but his skin was completely healed over. Dirt and specks of blood stuck against the sweat on his face and hair. He was breathing hard, the smoke from the fires making their way into the ship. He covered his mouth, finding the button that closed the hatch.

Then he saw you. Lying on the cold floor. Blood seeping into a coat pocket, body trembling.

Logan felt sick. Like someone reached into his stomach and rearranged everything. No amount of metal or regeneration could protect him from something like this.

His jaw clenched, ready to burst at the seams. It was a rubber band wound up too tight. “What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know.” Kurt stammered, still shaking. “I see someone falling, I grab them.” He returned to the same spot, putting pressure back on your skull. “We came here once I smelled the blood.”

A whimper escaped your mouth. Logan snapped out of the initial shock and made his way over to you. His knees hit the hard floor. He took your hand. Nausea overcame him when your blood went cold against his skin. “Hey. It’s me. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” He kept repeating it. Just like he did in his night terrors.

This didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be.

Could it?

But it was.

He could sense it creeping in.

You weren’t supposed to be in this situation. Logan had gone out of his way to make sure something like this would never happen.

But sometimes, nightmares come true. And the worst one was unraveling right before him.

“Go… help.” You were wheezing. The rattle slithering out whenever you tried to speak. Was there blood in your lungs too?

What you said made him hold onto you that much tighter. “No way in hell. I’m not leaving you like this.”

He paused. From where he kneeled, he had a clear view of your injury. He wanted to tear those monsters outside to pieces.

You shut your eyes, face curled up in pain. Kurt continued to mutter prayers. Logan held your cold skin to his mouth, leaving frantic kisses on the back of your hand. It almost looked like he was praying too.

Then, a blood curdling scream irrupted from you. You screamed so hard that your legs thrashed and fingers tightened around Logan’s wrist. You’d never felt pain like this before. All consuming. Like a dragon swallowed you whole. Blades of flame and ice scattered along its esophagus.

Logan slammed his fist against the metal floor. “God dammit!” He was trying to keep himself from crying. A wild look overtook his eyes. He whipped his head towards the hatch and back to Kurt. “Go get Jean.” He ordered his teammate. “Now!”

Kurt nodded. He would not hesitate. He tried peeling Logan’s hands from your own, but Logan would not budge. He only looked more confused, hurt and angry.

Kurt sighed, pointing at you. “It’s for her.”

Logan let some of his anger dissipate, realizing what Kurt was trying to do. He let him guide his hands to your head and vanished into thin air as soon as Logan was in the proper place to care for you.

Logan pushed the fabric against the gash in your skull. Your eyes scrunched up again, teeth biting your lip.

“You’ll be fine.” He repeated over and over again. He soothed you with it. Cradled your head in his lap. Made sure to stay as still as he could. He put too little pressure on your head. As soon as he noticed, he put too much pressure on the wound. He eventually found the balance, watching your face twist back into a more comfortable position. “Nothing you can’t come back from.”

Something wet dripped onto your forehead. Mixing with your own tears. Was Logan bleeding too?

The darkness was inviting you to sleep. Yet, you didn’t want to leave Logan’s warm embrace. But you were so tired. And the nothingness was quiet. Your eyes fluttered, fighting the blood loss.

Panic shot through him. “Don’t you fucking dare.” His pleas grew more erratic. He was reaching for words that didn’t belong together. “The flowers in your room. You need to water them.” When did so much blood get in your hair? Your breathing became shallow. “Everyone gets hit in the head. Fucking get up.” You couldn’t smell anything anymore. Was his voice falling apart? “I think we should go home.”

There was a brief flash of blue that popped into your blurry view. Red hair swam front of your face. Cold hands taking over for him. There was more talking and cursing. You felt drunk in the head. Logan’s animalistic screams faded as he ran out of the hatch, claws unsheathed. Jean yelled for him to come back.

Then it was just darkness. A long sleep.

Logan was by your side when you woke up.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw you struggling to open your eyes. But, he hesitated to touch you. Like one wrong move would send him back to that pool of blood and claustrophobic ship.

“Hey.” He let out a shaky breath.

With the pad of his thumb, he gently brushed away the crust underneath your eyelids. You could see much clearer now. The infirmary was empty except for the two of you. The lights overhead were nearly too bright to handle. Your head was still pounding. But the worst pain was in the chest, moving all the way to your back.

You noted the tear stains on his cheeks and the black, torn up X Men suit he was still wearing.

How long were you out? You really hoped he didn’t stay here watching over you for days on end. You needed him to take care of himself.

It took a while to gather the strength to speak. “Logan…” Your voice scratched the air. It still hurt to talk. “When did you last sleep?”

Logan let himself exhale once he heard your voice. You were alive. Right in front of him. But it didn’t feel real until now. “You of all people, are worried about me?” He chuckled, kissing your forehead, caressing your cheek. “Never change.”

You pushed your face into the palm of his hand. “Is everyone else okay?”

He nodded. That was good to hear. Everyone made it out of that hell hole safely. As soon as you were able to, you were going to go thank Kurt for everything he did. And buy him a new coat.

“See? Nightmare averted. You can sleep just fine now.”

His face fell. “No. I can’t. I won’t.”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” You motioned towards the water on the table. He sat on the edge of the bed and brought the straw to your lips. The water was cool against your dry tongue and sore throat. You let him put the drink back. “Was it that bad?”

He pursed his lips, tilting his head in discomfort. His fingers gripped the sides of the bed. They turned white against the blue sheets. “What do you think?”

“Can’t really think right now. My head is killing me.”

“And a collapsed lung.” He added. You thought he was going to break the bed.

Memories started flooding back to you. The powerful kick to the chest, the weapon slicing open your head. Then before you knew it, you were falling.

“I did a lot worse to that fucker than what he did to you. I made sure of it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his face curled up like he was in pain too. “This can’t happen again.”

Your throat was dry and it still hurt to talk, but you powered through. “I can’t promise you it won’t.”

He whipped his head around. He looked so tired. “You almost died last night.” The pain echoed off every single word. “It. Can’t. Happen. Again.”

You reached for his hand and he hesitated again. Eyes locked on the tiny injuries along your fingers. That’s where he kissed you as you lay dying.

“I’m sorry.” His fingers danced across your own, avoiding them like a crush.

“This isn’t your fault.”

“Sure feels like it is.”

You began to cough. Your bruised ribs hurt with each sharp inhale and exhale. Logan brought the straw back to your lips. “Jean will be back soon to check up on you. Take it easy, okay?” You swallowed, thanking him once again.

There was a pause, but not an uncomfortable one. “I think you should go get some rest.”

“I’m fine.” He picked at the fiber strains of your blanket. “I don’t sleep, I get a little tired. You don’t sleep, you can barely function. I get hurt, I heal just as quickly. You get hurt…” He stopped himself from finishing the sentence by biting down on the inside of his cheek. “God, I need a fucking drink.”

“Then go get one. After you take care of yourself.”

“That is taking care of myself.”

“No, it really isn’t.”

“Jesus.” He dragged his hands over his face. “You are not going to let this go?”

“Nope.” Logan wanted to kiss that stupid smirk off your lips.

He sighed. “I just don’t want to go through it again.”

“Maybe you’ll dream of something different this time. Something better.”

Jean walked into the room, still giving the two of you space. He knew you’d be fine with her. That you were safe now. But it still hurt to leave.

“Fine. I’ll go sleep or whatever.” Logan kissed your forehead one last time before standing up. “But then I’m coming right back.”

You watched him go with a weak smile. There was still a lot of healing to do, but you’d do it together.

[vulpisnocturna]

Binding Vow

This is purely self-indulgent because I was consumed with the idea of Chrollo and specifically, Yandere!Chrollo. So here it goes. This is filthy and Chrollo is unhinged. Nothing new.

Read on AO3

Part II

Part III

I do not condone this behaviour in real life. This is purely fictional. Please read warnings and avoid if any of them are triggering to you.

Warnings: Yandere Chrollo, dom Chrollo, coercion, dub con (I mean it), psychological manipulation, kidnapping, captivity, possessiveness, obsession, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, praise, slight humiliation kink

Summary: Abducted because Chrollo could not steal your Nen ability, you are ready to give in and trade your power for your freedom. But the choices Chrollo decides to lay in front of you are wholly different. One would say, the illusion of choice. You make him swear a vow to let you go as you make your choice. But one should pay close attention to the words used in a binding vow...

Word count: 7k

One would think so many candles would be a fire hazard, to be frank. They were everywhere, on every wooden surface, on every shelf that wasn’t overcome with books of all sizes with leather spines, on the nightstands and even on the ground. It was as though the leader of the Phantom Troupe had an obsession with a certain type of aesthetic, and would not refrain from littering his surroundings with candles every time he found a new place where his gang could crash. Perhaps, he had a candle for every person he had ever killed.

Though you supposed one would lose count after a while.

If you were to ingratiate him, you knew what he would appreciate having as a gift; although who needed gifts when your profession was stealing whatever you wanted, whatever thing you had a passing whim for?

As far as you were aware, you were the last passing whim Chrollo Lucilfer had stolen. You had known of his power to steal abilities, and even though you had tried to escape when the Troupe had come to abduct you, it seemed he hadn’t been successful in stealing your power. Yet.

Your Nen power wasn’t meant to fight, really, so the possibility of forcing your way through the Troupe had been preposterous. Your ability was that of having regenerative power, to the point where you could heal fatal wounds to yourself and others. He obviously must have wanted it for himself, and you hadn’t exactly had any way of escaping his wishes.

After a month of captivity, though, you weren’t sure you could bear it for much longer. If all he wanted was your power, why not let him “borrow” it, as he so nonchalantly put it? So you could go back to your own life, so you didn’t have to be locked up in that house, so that he would let you go? Would he even let you go, if you gave him the ability? Or would he want to tie loose ends and get rid of you? You shuddered in the cold air of the bedroom you had been confined to in his absence. 

He had left you to your own devices that day for the entirety of the morning, whilst he had spent all his time with you previously. Studying you, asking you questions, letting you know between the lines that he knew who you were, who your loved ones were, where they lived. He had called you a “treasured guest” in the same sentence, with such audacity that you had been left stunned at the complete lack of morals that man had.

But then again, he also seemed to have some twisted attraction to you. They did say the forbidden fruit was always the sweetest, and because you knew of his power, he couldn’t get to your Nen ability if you did not reveal how it worked and fulfilled his conditions. In the last two weeks, he had taken to something you could only define as an attempt at seduction.

He would sit with you in the living room, inviting you to get closer to him, reassuring you he had no intentions of harming you. He would stare at you with those stormy eyes of his that seemed to burn through you like electricity, and his gaze would rake over your body like he was appraising some kind of rare, expensive object he planned to take for himself. Which he probably was.

Despite knowing who he was, despite knowing how sticky with blood his hands were, you were only a fallible human. And he was... a murderer, a manipulator, a thief; and he was also cunning, intuitive, soft-spoken, caring with you in a sick way, and the most handsome man you had ever met. Despite all of your efforts, it was not possible to deny the effect he had on you. And it was not possible to hide it from him. Observant as he was, obsessed as he was with watching your every reaction, every little twitch of your body, every time your breath faltered when he was too close, every time he commented casually how your pupils were dilating, every time his long, willowy fingers grazed your skin, he could see all of it. And all of it was a twisted game of cat and mouse to him.

Another heist, another plot to strategise and accomplish. He was always composed, always neutral, if not for his sly looks, wily smirks and piercing eyes. He always seemed to have the upper hand. It did not matter that he did not have your power, he seemed to be a patient man.

Until that day.

You had assumed he was waiting for you to break by keeping you captive, although treated with enough civility and never physically harmed, because he had not mentioned wanting your Nen power since the one time he had told you he wished to borrow it. In your mind, he was simply determined to stir the pot and then leave you to stew in it for a while, knowing at some point, your desire for freedom would overcome your attachment to your ability. Letting you run your mind wild with suppositions and conjectures that led nowhere as you tried to analyse his reasons and predict his behaviour. And it was working. You were almost done with it. If he asked you to choose between your power and your freedom, you knew what you would pick.

When he came back from whatever the hell he’d been doing that morning, his appearance was pristine. He was wearing his hair down, no headband in sight, a white shirt with the first two buttons undone and smart black trousers. All in all, he was the picture of what you could only define as sex appeal and sophistication mixed together in a heady blur of sharp eyes, chiselled, angular features and a mellow voice that still managed to sting.

He unlocked your door using a Nen ability he’d probably also stolen and closed it behind him, smiling softly at you as he appraised you.

‘Hello, darling. I hope you did not feel too lonely without my company’ he said easily, conversationally. You disliked the pet names he had started to throw at you in the last two weeks. They made it seem like there was more to this relationship than a prisoner and their warden. More he wanted. But not your ability. No. You. And it made your stomach churn every time. 

You decided to ignore him, because what else could you do? You were locked in a room with him, with no escape, and you had been held captive for a month now. What could possibly make it worse than it already was?

But you were so very naïve. You should have paid heed to his shrewd grey eyes, to the way his lips twitched as though he delighted in knowing something you didn’t, in watching you rack your brains in trying to figure him out.

You had been so naïve in thinking that he had kidnapped you and held you captive to steal your ability. After all, he could torture it out of you. 

Did he just enjoy the game? What did he want? Was there another condition that needed you to be willing to share it with him? That must have been it. He needed you to give it to him willingly, that was why he was going after your mental sanity instead of torturing it out of you.

‘You seem quite tense. Sit with me. I have a proposition for you’ he said, gracefully stepping to your side, brushing his fingers on your lower back, sending shivers down your spine just as your nose caught a whiff of his expensive cologne. His scent was just as intoxicating as he was, something masculine yet refined, a blend that made your lower stomach hot. You fought to keep eye contact as he sat on the plush loveseat by the fireplace, tapping the empty space right next to him, his eyes boring into you with curious amusement. 

You grimaced, feeling weak and dizzy as you sat down on the armchair, the only other surface available to you aside from the bed and the loveseat, which was out of the question. Chrollo’s lips twitched in amusement, his eyes glinting with interest as he rested his cheek against his fist. 

‘I have a few choices for you. I assume you are quite unsatisfied with your current predicament, therefore, I am giving you the chance to escape all the doubt that must be swarming your mind by now’ he said calmly, that little smirk still on his lips. You did not give way to hope. You did not lower your guard. Thieves did not return goods. If they got rid of them, it was after getting something else in return. So what was he playing at? What was his angle?

‘Your distrust is quite strong, dearest. You should learn to hide your emotions more, if you plan to attempt to play me. Though I must admit the thought of it is quite thrilling. So feel free to try it. Your first choice is to give me your Nen ability in exchange for the end of this predicament. Your second choice is to give yourself to me now. I trust you understand the meaning behind my words. If that is your choice, you can start by getting up and walking over here’ he said, smoothly, easily, seductively, his eyes mischievous. 

You blinked, swallowing heavily, your lips parting. He… was making you choose between your Nen ability or having sex with him in exchange for your freedom? The choice was not really that. It was an illusion of it. Perhaps he merely sought to humiliate you, because of course, the reasonable choice would be to get it over and done with, have sex with him just that once and walk away with your life and your ability intact. Who in their right mind would pick the first choice? 

He was hot, charming, attractive. So long as you could separate the part of you that knew what he was, what he did, and the shame that came with prostituting yourself to your captor, it would not be that bad. It would be over quickly, you only had to focus on his physical attributes, shut out his horrid persona.

‘You want me to prostitute myself to you’ you said, your cheeks burning with humiliation. He let out a wilful sigh. 

‘That is an uncouth appraisal of it. It is quite clear from your reactions to me that you desire me, too. Is that prostitution? More of a mutual desire, I’d wager. Rather a small price to pay to retain your power, is it not?’ he asked, smiling sweetly, smugly. You ground your jaw, your whole face feeling hot, your eyes stinging with the embarrassment of your current predicament, as he loved to call your captivity.

‘Why would I want to... have sex with someone like you? A... murderer- a thief, a kidnapper?’ you spat, repulsed, sitting rigidly in the armchair, quite the opposite picture to his nonchalant lounging. He let out a soft laugh.

‘Oh, darling. Are you pretending to have steadfast morals now?’ he crooned, voice soft and mellow. Completely unbothered by your accusations.

‘What are you trying to imply?’ you chewed on the corner of your bottom lip, a movement he followed with a hint of ravenousness in his silvery eyes.

‘Your morals seem somewhat flexible to me. You have been eating food paid with stolen money for a month, sleeping in a stolen mansion, wearing stolen clothes. I trust you were clever enough to know this from the beginning of your sojourn here’ he said casually, seeming almost enthusiastic about debunking every argument you could bring to the table. It was as though he found pleasure in discrediting your beliefs and making you vacillate. Perhaps it stroked his ego.

 ‘I had no choice about sleeping here. Should I have starved? Should I have wandered around naked for a month?’ you snapped, regretting your words immediately when you saw him look at you so intensely. As though he was undressing you himself with his eyes.

‘Well, you certainly could have tried to starve yourself. I would have admired your efforts to cling to your pride and ethical dilemma, and you would not be in this moral conundrum now if you had. You would be able to blame me for it. As to your last point, that would have certainly been a sight. Again, the choice was there. I would not have stopped you’ he said slyly, his voice getting lower and more seductive, like a caress on your spine. You bristled.

‘Those are not choices. Like these aren’t’ you pressed, and he sighed, still smiling like nothing could make him waver.

‘Are they not? You have two paths before you. Every human being is offered choices. Now, be a darling and make one. What will you choose?’ he mused. You closed your eyes, your fingers curling on the fabric of your skirt.

‘You will not steal my power if I- give my body to you now. Right?’ you asked slowly, trying to find a loophole in his words.

‘I will not. If you choose to indulge me now, I will not steal your power’ he said. You gulped. You did not want him to lose his patience and take away your opportunity. You also wanted his word that you would be let out alive and unharmed.

‘And this- this predicament will be done once I do that too. You will not kill me- nor harm me after that. I will be allowed to leave this place alive’ you said cautiously, weighing your words. He smiled.

‘Of course. In order to ease your worries, why don’t I make a vow with you? A condition, if you will. And if I break it, I will die. If this is your choice, and you want reassurance before you continue with it, I will of course be willing to ease your worries. Stand up and come closer’ he said, and you tried not to show your relief. If he was promising, there was nothing to worry about. You could do this, keep your life and your well-being, leave with your power. It was not a bad deal. Not a bad deal at all. You should be happy that he seemed to be attracted to you. That he was even giving you a choice in the matter.

You slowly got up, and your legs felt weak as you stepped closer to him, feeling like his gaze was burning through you. You stopped in front of him, tense like a violin string as a grimoire appeared in his hand.

‘Sit on my lap, darling’ he murmured, and you found yourself feeling all kinds of things in your body, from nerve-wracking anxiety to butterflies in your stomach to warmth in your gut and weakness in your legs. You inched closer to him, gingerly sitting sideways on his lap.

You were immediately engulfed by his enthralling cologne, and his arm wrapped around you, fingers curling on your waist to keep you in place. You squirmed, gulping when he dipped his head to breathe against your neck, making goosebumps appear on your exposed skin.

‘Your scent is intoxicating, dearest’ he breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear to expose the side of your face to him. You could not deny how seductive he could be, how tantalising his touch felt. But you would not be swayed from the promise he’d made.

‘The vow first’ you said somewhat nervously, and he smiled, nodding and keeping an arm around your torso as he picked up his book of stolen abilities and flicked through it, stopping in front of a binding vow.

‘Now, I vow that I will not make your Nen ability mine and steal it from you. It will remain yours. I vow I will not kill you, nor will I ask anyone else to do so for me. Should you respect the terms I have presented to you, you will leave this place unscathed within a day, with your power still in your hands. Should I fail to respect these terms, I will die on the spot. Do you accept?’ he said, and you tried to find any loophole that would allow him to kill you or steal your ability in his words, even though his fingers stroking your ribcage were distracting, but you could not find anything. You nodded.

‘I accept’ you said, and he picked up a small dagger from his pocket, shushing you when you gasped and tried to get away. He pricked his thumb, showing you the small droplet of blood that was forming on the surface of his skin.

‘I won’t hurt you. I just need a drop of your blood. Your hand, if you will, darling. Or the vow won’t work’ he said, and you gingerly let him lift one of your hands and prick your thumb. He pressed yours against his, and you could see the aura surrounding your fingers working. You relaxed a little when he threw the dagger away, supposedly letting it pierce the wood of the highest bookshelf so you could not reach it in an attempt to attack him.

He wiped your thumb and his with a handkerchief, tossing it on the table and letting the grimoire disappear.

‘I hope I was successful in easing your worries. Now, where were we?’ he murmured, round, pretty eyes heavy-lidded, lust-laden as they scanned your face. You felt as though you were in the lion’s den for the first time, or more fittingly, a small butterfly trapped in a spider web. Just waiting to be devoured.

He cupped your jaw, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb, leisurely taking his time in savouring you. Part of you wished he would just get it over and done with, another part of you, a shameful one, burnt at every action he took, at his stifling seduction. You might as well enjoy it and hope he was good at the very least, right? No one could blame you for it. Your survival was at stake, after all.

You stopped thinking altogether when his lips grazed your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your lips. He was slow and sensual in all of his movements, but there was something that slipped through the façade, something possessive about the way his fingers curled around your throat, trapping you in place as his lips pressed against yours.

They were soft. Soft and smooth, warm and demanding. You could not deny the pull they had. You were coaxed into seeking them out whenever he pulled away slightly, pressing them against you again, more and more passionately each time, almost manipulating you into wanting him to get rougher.

And he did. His teeth sank into the pliant flesh of your bottom lip, pulling lightly, and his tongue was quick to soothe the sting, taking advantage of your little gasp to slip in your mouth and lay siege on your tongue. It was all akin to a game of pull and push with him. He wheedled you into letting go more and more with each time he gave you something only to take it away and revel in how you sought it again. Just as he had presented the illusion of you wanting this from him, he was now making you act on it as though you had always desired nothing more.

Until your fingers were tangled in his soft raven hair, pulling lightly at it, and you were seeking his soft lips and their taste reminiscent of rich red wine to suck on his bottom lip languidly. Until his teeth nipping at your bottom lip had you mewl in his mouth.

‘Eager, are we? How sweet’ he breathed, and you felt the trap snap, the mechanism trapping you like a helpless doe caught by pincers. All of his teasing had led to this, to making you see that you wanted him, wanted this to happen. And as much as you could deny it, your actions spoke loudly, and your body’s reaction did too. The knowledge that you were already turned on and that if he decided to reach between your thighs he would see just how responsive you were to him made the mortification burn in your chest.

You had wanted to keep your dignity and show your distaste for what was happening, but he had managed to reduce you to a docile doll just by kissing your lips. And his sardonic smile and eyes told you that you were right in that assumption.

And before you could hope to collect yourself, his mouth was on your throat, hungry but still slow, leaving you wanting more. He licked a long stripe along your pulse, making it shoot up as his fingers curled around the roots of your hair and pulled, exposing your vulnerable neck to him. You could not restrain the whimper that escaped you as he kissed and started sucking a sensitive spot between your neck and your shoulder, sure to leave a mark to remind you of what you had done, of your flexible morals, as he’d called them.

His fingers clutched your side, wandered down to your hip and the swell of your ass, grazed your thigh and snaked under your skirt to grope at the plump flesh of your backside. You were too lost in the pleasure of his mouth and tongue on your throat to truly consider your situation and who it was that was touching you so possessively, so greedily. If anything, it only stoked the fire within you.

‘Good girl’ he crooned, sending a jolt to your clit with the dirty praise. You squirmed on his lap, eliciting a soft chuckle from him and a graze of his thumb over your stiff nipple. You were wearing a simple satin shirt with a flimsy bralette, and the friction of the material was torturous against your nipples.

Chrollo pulled the shirt out of your skirt, making quick work of the buttons with one hand whilst the other was still kneading your ass and his mouth was still on your throat. He slipped the garment off you, pulling away to observe you. You gulped, averting your eyes at the sight of his hungry stare, quivering as his fingers ghosted your sternum, your ribcage, the swell of your breasts.

‘You are so beautiful, darling’ he murmured, his lips softly pressing against your collarbone, his fingers deftly lowering the straps of your bralette and unhooking it. He tossed it aside, groaning softly as his hand cupped your breast, kneading it in his fingers, pinching your nipple and rolling it between thumb and index finger.

You tried to stifle a moan, to which he seemed to take offense, because he stopped and bit down hard on your shoulder, making you whine in the process.

‘I want to hear you. The more you stifle your voice, the longer I will tease you. Understood?’ he said, and you meekly nodded, only to speak up when he gave you a meaningful glance.

‘Yes’ you hissed, and he seemed pleased, because he hummed and made you arch your back so that his tongue could lick your stiff nipple and flick it. You were careful not to stifle the small whine that left your lips, and he rewarded you by sucking your nipple in his mouth, scraping it with his teeth and making you cling onto his shoulders.

He bunched up your skirt up to your waist, leaving you exposed as he trailed his fingers to your inner thighs, in a silent request to spread your legs. You were not wholly aware of how swiftly you complied, you only knew that when he first cupped you through your panties, your eyelids fluttered and a soft moan poured out of you.

‘You are soaked for me, pet. Your morals do not seem to extend to your body. Try as you might, you want this, and you cannot lie to me’ he purred, dragging his fingers and pressing against your clit, holding you still when you squirmed away from his touch. You let out a loud moan, your hips jerking. He pulled your panties to the side, rubbing your clit and dipping two fingers inside you, curling them, making your head drop on his shoulder as you moaned against his neck, enveloped by the scent of his cologne.

‘That’s it. That’s my good girl. If I knew how much you liked being fingered on my lap, I would have done this much sooner. No matter. I’ll make it up to you, darling’ he breathed, voice slightly strained as though he was holding back something much more primal from taking over, but you were too dazed to take much notice of all the filth he was spewing and how he sought to humiliate you further, because his touch admittedly felt like heaven. His willowy fingers inside you kept pressing against all the right places, and you could not help but clench around them, your hips twitching into his hand every time his palm rubbed against your sensitive clit.

You were lost in the motion of his fingers as you rutted against his hand, shamelessly chasing your own high as he continued to praise you and kiss you, rewarding every sound you made with a curl of his fingers that had you melting in his arms. Until you could not take it anymore.

‘Can’t- ‘m close’ you huffed out, breathing erratic, chest heaving as his fingers pumped inside you, and he hummed, licking your neck and sucking on it again.

‘Cum for me, pet’ he urged, and your eyes scrunched up, a lewd moan ripping through you as you tensed up on his thigh, sound fading away as you came undone.

You slumped on him, breathing heavily, your cunt throbbing around his fingers as he lazily fucked you through your aftershocks, your hair clinging to the back of your neck from the light sheen of sweat that had formed there.

‘Suck’ you heard, and dazed as you were, you obediently opened your mouth when he presented his fingers, sucking and licking the pads of his fingers, tasting yourself. You had to cling to him as he stood up and walked over to the bed, lowering you on it and observing you as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off.

There was no denying it, he was attractive. Lean but toned, with graceful abs adorning his flat stomach, jutting collarbones and well-defined biceps; with the way the candlelight danced on his pale skin, making it glow with soft orange hues, he truly looked like he might be a fantasy of sorts.

You supposed he looked like a fallen angel, as his name suggested. Like the Alexandre Cabanel painting of the fallen angel, dangerous but so tempting. It was unfair that he should also be able to make you come undone so easily, when you had vowed to not give him the satisfaction.

He smirked at you, undoing his belt, slipping it through the hooks, catching you staring first at the clear dampness on his thigh, then at the evident bulge of his erection.

You supposed he would fuck you now. If you were being honest, you had thought he wouldn’t have taken such interest in your pleasure, but now, it seemed only fitting: it was all to aid his game, to stroke his ego in humiliating you by showing you how you could not abide by your morals, how you’d moaned and whined to be touched by those blood-stained hands.

Instead, he kept his trousers on, only going so far as to unbutton them to give himself more space. He seemed... quite gifted in that area too, you thought with a grimace. Was there anything that did not favour him? It seemed that fortune graced the wicked in that nonsensical world, because he had it all.

He caged you underneath him, his hair tickling your face as he drew you into a heated kiss, his hands roving down your body, fingertips digging into your hips, tongue pressing against yours.

He was quick to unzip your skirt and slide it off you along with your panties, leaving you completely exposed whilst he still retained his power by not undressing completely.

‘You were so precious squirming on my lap, so good for me. You deserve a reward’ he crooned against your ear in that soft, melodious voice of his, making you swallow heavily as you wondered what he might do to you now.

He did not leave you guessing for long. His mouth traced your collarbone, his head lowering as he licked your sternum and left a dark lovebite above your nipple, another reminder that would bring you back to this room, to what he was doing to you for the following week. He seemed intent on marking you whenever he could, and until he had littered your chest with purple brushstrokes, until you were but a moaning mess, he refused to move on, no matter how much you tried to squirm away and whimper at some of the harshest ones on your ribcage.

He continued to kiss down your stomach, massaging your thighs, cupping your ass and lowering his head to kiss your thighs. You were rendered breathless and unable to stop thrashing and moaning as he sucked another lovebite on your inner thigh, keeping you pinned down and at his mercy. You just wanted him to bury his head between your thighs, you were close, close to begging for it, were it not for your pride. Were it not for who he was.

Fortunately, you did not need to stoop that low. His tongue flattened and dragged up your cunt, tensing and flicking your clit from underneath as he got to the top, tearing a breathless moan from you.

‘You taste so sweet’ he huffed out against your skin, blowing cold air on your clit and making you whine and scoot away. He dragged you back, a wicked light in his stormy eyes as he glanced at you and licked your clit, rolling it on his tongue.

‘F-fuck’ you breathed, your hands shooting to his hair, pulling lightly, trying to ground yourself as he continued to toy with your clit, sucking it and licking it fervently. You could not hold yourself. If he was amazing with his fingers, he was incredible with his tongue. Judging by how he seemed to have a way with words, you should not have been surprised that he was so maddeningly good at pleasuring with his tongue. It was making you lose your mind.

Even if you had tried, you would not have been able to restrain the need to keen, whine and moan every time he sucked your clit, dipped his tongue inside you or drew figures around your clit.

He was insatiable as he flung your thighs on his shoulders, seemingly unbothered with the way you trapped his head and rutted against his face. In fact, he seemed thrilled to follow the movement of your hips, giving you more and more until you were babbling and keening incoherently, unable to even speak.

‘Fuck- Ch- Chrollo...’ you whined longingly, unable to realise your slip of moaning his name in the throes of pleasure. But he heard you loud and clear, because he groaned, and his name on your lips only seemed to spur him on. In a few seconds, he was sucking on your clit, giving you more pleasure than you’d ever thought was even possible, until the torturous knot in your stomach snapped and released and you came with a cry, tears prickling the corners of your eyes, your hair tousled and messy on the pillow, your muscles tensing, toes curling and fingers clawing at the sheets.

You kept your eyes closed for a while, easing into your breathing, feeling as though your body had completely melted, feeling as though you couldn’t even move.

‘You can still take my cock, can’t you, darling? After all, I have made you feel so good. It’s only fair. Do not worry, you will not mind. You seem to love being fucked by the one you spoke of with such revulsion. It’s quite endearing, watching you struggle with your morals’ he crooned, and you opened your eyes, watching him stroke his cock a few times. It was quite long and fairly thick, slightly tilted upwards.

You were too fucked out to consider his taunting, but you knew he was right. Both mindsets could not peacefully coexist in your mind: how could you be so willing and find so much pleasure in someone like him? How could you hate him and love what he was doing to you? It might have been an involuntary physical reaction, but you should have had more resolve, more restraint. Otherwise, what did that say about you?

Chrollo lined himself between your legs, rubbing his cock along your labia, on your clit, instantly making those thoughts fade in the haze of pleasure as you let out a soft sigh and automatically tried to hook your legs around his slender hips.

He gripped your thigh, pushing the tip of his cock inside you, easily slipping inside inch by inch with how shamefully wet you were, and yet, you already felt so full, like he was stretching you to the limit. You clawed at his back, raking your nails across his shoulder blades, gasping and whimpering along with his soft moan.

‘Fuck. So tight... so wet. Such a perfect little cunt’ he huffed out, his lips parting in pleasure, dark eyebrows furrowing. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to relax your muscles to accommodate his size, clung to his shoulders for support.

He wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, continuing to push inside you, albeit slowly, until he was buried to the hilt. You clenched around him, and the soft groan he let out made your stomach drop with a surge of pleasure. He bottomed out and slammed back in, tearing a broken moan from you as he set a ruthless pace, his eyes darkening with lust and the slip of his mask, hunger palpable in his every movement and the way he sought to fully claim you.

He lifted your legs higher up around his waist, his fingers tightening around your throat, not pressing on the front, leaving you room to breathe but making you even more dizzy than you already were.

His pelvis kept slapping against your clit, drawing out whines and pants from you, and with every thrust, he seemed to grow more accustomed to where you liked to be touched, because as soon as his cock pressed against your g-spot, your back arched and your head thrashed from side to side, a lewd moan echoing in the room as you clamped around him.

‘There, huh? Let me do it again, darling’ he breathed, one hand lifting both your legs and bending them at the knees, letting you rest them against his chest as he rammed into you, hitting the same spot again and again, relentlessly building the pressure inside you, making you see stars.

‘Mhh- too much... Chrollo’ you whined, trapped underneath him, feeling as though you might implode if he didn’t stop- or if he stopped, for what it was worth.

‘Moan my name again, pet. Let me hear how filthy it sounds on your lips’ he grunted, the sound of skin slapping against skin both enticing and dirty as he continued to fuck you into the mattress.

When you didn’t reply, suddenly aware of how you were moaning his name, reinforcing how you knew- wanted it to be him to fuck you at that moment, he let out a breathless laugh.

‘Looks as though you might need some convincing’ he said, slowing down and eventually slipping out of you, letting your legs down. You whimpered, desire clawing at your gut, your cunt clenching around nothing as you opened your bleary eyes and set them on him. He gave you a smirk, flipping you on your stomach and lifting your hips, spreading your knees with his and pushing on your lower back to make you arch into him. You lifted yourself on your elbows and heard his tongue click against his teeth condescendingly before he pushed your head against the mattress and smacked your ass with a resounding slap.

You yelped, biting down on your lower lip, mortification once again mingling with pleasure as he pushed his cock back inside you, letting out a soft groan.

‘Use your hands one more time and I will tie them up behind your back. It will feel better like this. For me- and for you’ he said, fisting your hair and gripping your hip, starting to pound into you from behind once again.

It did feel better like this. Deeper. Unbearable. He stimulated your clit with every thrust, the tip of his cock kept pressing against your cervix, and you did not know if you could bear it much longer.

You found the bridge of your nose damp with tears, and struggled to recognise your own voice in the filthy moans you were letting out. It was humiliating and it was impossibly pleasurable, and the mix was somewhat addicting, tainting. It was ruining every shred of sanity left in your brain.

Until he got what he wanted. Because it seemed as though he always did. He could steal anything, including his name from your lips said with such want and bliss that had you not been fucked stupid, you would have wanted to die.

‘Ahh- Chr- Chrollo! Fuck. Gonna cum’ you screamed, sobbing, clenching around him, getting even closer to a mind-shattering orgasm with every moan and groan he graced you with.

‘Good girl. My girl. Mine. You love this, mh? Tell me how much you love this. Tell me how badly you want to cum all over my cock’ he urged, voice possessive and low, and you could not stop yourself, could not do anything but acquiesce, because you needed- needed to cum.

‘Yes! Please. Please let me cum. Please. Need it so bad’ you whined, sobbed even, desperate for reprieve, hoping he would have mercy on you, hoping he would let you finish. His fingers reached under you to rub at your clit, and you could hardly contain a sob of wild pleasure and the jolt of your hips.

‘Since you asked so nicely. Go on, pet, cum for me’ he huffed out, still thrusting inside you at that unrelenting pace, and as though he had power over your own body, you felt the release hit you like a wave of overwhelming pleasure that made your vision white and your ears fill with static.

He was quick to cum with a breathy moan as you squeezed his cock through your orgasm, holding you tightly as he spilled inside you. He continued to push in and out slowly, until you stopped throbbing and squeezing around him.

‘Fuck’ he breathed, letting you collapse on the bed and doing the same next to you. You both stayed silent for a minute or two, catching your breath, feeling the cool air on your feverish skin.

‘Let me clean you up, darling’ he said, and you didn’t have the strength to object as he got up and walked away, the sound of his footsteps quiet as you kept your eyes closed until he came back with a glass of water and a wet towel, his trousers back on, but still shirtless. He wiped your inner thighs gently, with more care than you wanted to admit someone like him could be capable of, and carefully lifted you up so you could drink the water he’d brought you.

You took small gulps, finding it felt amazing trickling down your dry, raw throat after all that crying and screaming. He only put the glass on the nightstand when you had finished it all.

‘Thanks’ you said absent-mindedly, your mind slowly coming back to you in coherent thoughts as you attempted to cover yourself with the duvet. He gave you a languid smile, tucking your hair away from your face and lying next to you.

But it was finally over now. You could leave. Your deal had revealed itself to be better than you wanted to admit, but now, you were finally free. You could put this all behind you.

You tried to get up and gather your clothes, but your body felt like a ragdoll. He had really done a number on you.

‘Careful, dearest. You should wait a little’ he said, smiling at you, his eyes soft, his expression unreadable. You let out a shuddering breath.

‘Want to get... my clothes, and leave’ you said, getting up and hastily putting on your clothes, feeling a little dizzy. You walked back towards the bed, retrieving your underwear and your skirt, putting them on, almost falling were it not for his arms catching you and holding you still.

You felt weird. It had surely been intense, but so intense that your vision was slowly darkening around the edges and your arms and legs felt as heavy as lead?

He pulled you on his lap, and you protested weakly when he started to stroke your hair and kissed your forehead.

‘No- you said I would be free after this. Let me leave’ you slurred, and he shushed you, tenderly stroking your back in soothing gestures.

‘Oh, darling, I never said you would be free’ he said softly, still holding you. You blinked, confused, his face blurry as you stared at him.

‘You said- I’d be leaving this place- with my power... un...scathed within... a day. What d’you do to me?’ your words were garbled together, slurred like you were drunk. And you felt so heavy and tired.

‘I put a few sleeping pills in the water I gave you. Nothing that will harm you, so don’t worry your pretty little head. I don’t need to steal your power if I keep you. You will leave unscathed, but I never said you would leave alone. You should really pay more attention to the words of a vow, my love’ he said, stroking your hair, his soft voice lulling you into sleep despite how horrified you were in your mind. He had tricked you. Had no plans of freeing you. You hadn’t considered he might keep you. Hadn’t considered the depth of his obsession with you. Hadn’t considered there was more than one reason why he had kept you captive.

‘I cannot be parted from you, my love. Your place is by my side. Now close your eyes. Sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us’ he said gently, soothingly. And you could not help but do as he said, your eyelids growing heavier and heavier, your thoughts muddying and fading away along with your consciousness.

Part II here

Part III here

[harmoonix]

🐚✨Mystique Astrology Observations 🐚✨

✨Mermaids Songcord✨

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❤️⚠️ Long Post + Some asteroid Observations ⚠️🐚

🐚 - Water in big 3 (Sun, Moon or Rising) indicates being a very intuitive and spiritual person. Someone who can be gifted spiritually and physically

🐚 - Asteroid Psyche (16) in water signs are ethereal, they are so romantic, sweet, kind and lovely. They can be extremely nurturing aswell and can possess healing powers (when it comes to they soul)

🐚 - Venus in water signs experience romance at a very deeply level. They want to connect and feel everything, they want to feel their partners 100% close to them, they need safety in them

🐚 - Lacking Water Element in your birth chart usually means someone who can be more logical than emotional, someone who might not be that spiritual or someone who is using their brain more than their heart in situations

🐚 - Sun in the 12th house or Sun at Pisces Degrees (12°, 24°) can be attracted to mysticism, magic, mistery since they were kids. The native is usually born with a curiosity in this side

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🐚 - Love it can always feel more intense for those who have Pluto - Venus aspects, they are also becoming clingy very fast and attached to their partners and vice versa

🐚 - North Node in a water sign usually indicates a life dedicated to spiritually and self growth, someone who can be a balance between spirituality and the real world

🐚 - Asteroid Sirene [1009] in water signs can use their emotions to be more fatale, seductive, attractive to others. You can also manipulate people with the emotions you have

🐚 - Moon - Mercury aspects have such lovely voices, very cute and very childish - like, also their voices might sound younger or lighter

🐚 - Vesta [4] in water signs cannot help but just trying to find their own soul purpose in this life, this placement indicates someone creative, artistic, spiritual and with a deep desire for finding true love

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🐚 - Neptune aspecting Moon can give mermaid vibes, is their aura and energy, someone very empathic and kind, someone pure

🐚 - Moon prominent in your chart (Moon aspecting Sun, Rising, Venus, Mercury, Mars) makes the native to be sensitive, emotional, fragile, just like a little deer baby. Which is perfectly fine to be like that, is your soul nature

🐚 - Moon in Water Signs can feel more connected to water sources, river, sea, ocean, lakes etc, can be a therapy for them and used as healing

🐚 - Neptune - Ascendant/Neptune - Sun aspects can often be with their head in clouds, somehow the natives are always thinking to something

🐚 - Sun in Sagittarius/Sun at Sagittarius Degrees (9°, 21°) are honestly the best people to hang out with, they have a good humour, good stories to tell about, can be very supportive and extremely friendly or social

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🐚 - Scorpio Risings are very intense and challenging, those natives can be really loyal and good friends to keep around. They don't like to hurt people so they can be extremely protective of their loved ones

🐚 - Libra Risings are so beautiful, it makes sense because their ruler planet is Venus but they are really born with an unique beauty in them

🐚 - Capricorn Risings are extremely kind people. They love to share and to be around those who have a good mood/vibe. Someone very peaceful and who prefers to stay out of drama and focusing on themselves

🐚 - Aries Risings are natural born leaders. They love to rule, to be dominant, fierce, on top and they like competition pretty much. I swear is always ride or die with them

🐚 - Moon in the 9th house or Moon in the 9th house degrees (9°. 21°) have a deep respect for other cultures, traditions and people. They love to learn about new things everyday because that's what it gives them adrenaline + Is a very powerful house to have the moon here

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🐚 - Moon in the 2nd house or Moon at 2nd house degrees (2°, 14°,26°) can have a certain aesthetic and beauty in them, they can have a very gorgeous body and light like to wear a lot of jewels

🐚 - Moon in the 3rd house or Moon at 3rd house degrees (3°, 15°,27°) are having gorgeous pretty voices, someone with a very good voice. These people might be good at voice acting because their voice might be pretty unique

🐚 - Aphrodite Asteroid [1388] in Venusian degrees (2°, 7°, 14°, 19°, 26°) Aphrodite feels like home here and loves it, the native can be blessed with talents and beauty. Someone who can be aslo extremely appealing

🐚 - Aphrodite Asteroid [1388] in the 5th house loves having fun, going out, partying, i feel like Lady Aphrodite would love this house so much. Is also the house of sex and the native can be pretty hypersexual

🐚 - Aphrodite Asteroid [1388] in the 6th house can have really gorgeous bodies, extremely talented, perfectionist, always positive and moody sometimes with their own feelings. The people around you can find you pretty and attractive

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🐚 - Aphrodite [1388] - Pluto aspects can possess an threatening vibe, (not dangerous) just someone with a very intense energy and who can easily find people being jealous on them

🐚 - Libra and Taurus Moons have gorgeous eyes. They are sooo pretty for sure with this Venus charm who makes them attractive

🐚 - Lilith - Moon aspects are classified as one of the most intense aspects to have in a birth chart. This energy can often be felt as Lilith herself trying to help the native to get their own power

🐚 - Vesta [4] in harsh aspects with Venus makes the native to be distracted for pleasure. This aspects are meant to create harmony and beauty but are often distracted by their lust or pleasure (Your soul mission is to find true love)

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🐚 - Asteroid Psyche [16] prominent in a chart symbolizes the capacity for psychic sensitivity to the mind and feelings of another person

Psyche in Air Signs - Psyche feels like home when she is in an air sign,here the native can be gifted with spiritual gifts

Psyche in Water Signs - Psyche feels a good sensation for her, something that will bring empathy and harmony

Psyche in Fire signs - Psyche has control over everything and feels fierce and confident, strong with a good sense of living the life

Psyche in Earth Signs - Psyche is good at manifesting here. She can manifest and achieve with her mind and goals

🐚 - Psyche [16] - aspecting Chiron indicates abilities in psychic healing and emotions/soul

🐚 - Psyche [16] - in synastry with Eros [433] brings an soulmate connection with that type of person

🐚 - Psyche [16] - aspecting Uranus can be see in the future. Having prophetic dreams and often manifesting deja-vu

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🐚❤️ Love the aesthetics I made with this post 😍🤌🏼 + making new observations about one of my new fav asteroids Psyche 🤌🏼❤️ Last 2 photos are from a different universe 🤭🤭🤭❤️

❤️🐚 Love y'all, hope you have a good day and be blessed with a light and warm energy ❤️🐚

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Harmoonix 🐚❤️

[am-i-interrupting]

hazbin hotel hcs with reader, preferred fem but gn is ok, with really long hair. like it's legit like Rapunzel (and it's also their power like capturing ppl, healing ppl, and just the stuff Rapunzel is able to do lol) and so reader always wears their hair like in a bun (bc we know that'd get extremely hot) and just the different characters reaction to seeing readers hair completely down for the first time

Alastor

Alastor had always been fascinated by your hair.

If you’d let him cut it, or even if you didn’t, he’d try to get a piece. Just pluck a single strand from your head. It’s not like you’d miss it.

So, he had an idea for how long it was.

Seeing it all down was a different story, however.

“I can certainly see why you keep it tied up, my dear.”

He’s honestly impressed that you don’t buckle underneath the weight of your hair given how much of it there is.

Seeing it all down though only furthers his desire to know more about it.

Husk

Husk didn’t really pay much attention to your hair.

He’s never had long hair so while he recognizes that you’re hair has to be long to be put up, he doesn’t process how long it probably is until he sees it down.

“Holy shit.”

He actually brings out his wings so he doesn’t step on your hair as he helps you gather it back up.

He didn’t know hair could be so heavy.

“If you need any help with it. I don’t know much but I get that caring for things you can’t reach can be a fucking pain.”

He gestured to his wings. If you want to help him, he’ll help you

Lucifer

He just stares.

You look absolutely beautiful.

He flushed, absolutely gobsmacked.

Later, he’ll go up to you and offer his services for hair styling if you would like to use them.

He actually finds the process rather calming.

It reminds him of when Charlie was a child and he’d braid her hair for her.

The sessions become a bit of a bonding experience, sharing stories and gossip as he braids and styles your hair.

Vox

He just raises an eyebrow.

That’s. . . That’s a lot of hair.

He might instinctually run his fingers through it.

He just wants to see how long it is, he swears.

He’ll follow it down to the ends.

He wonders how you don’t constantly have it tangled, even with it put up.

He asks a lot of questions about how you care for it.

[awakenedsalamander]

This is gonna be a long walk. But I’ll get there. I promise.

In a lot of Chronicles of Darkness games, there are “minor templates” for players to take for their characters. These are basically lesser types of supernatural beings— undeniably marked by magic, but not transformed by it like the main templates are. So instead of being a werewolf, you might be a Wolf-Blooded, i.e., not the monster your stronger cousins are, but still recognizably having a connection to that world.

Again, a bunch of games have these. Mage has Sleepwalkers (and Proximi), Vampire has ghouls, Geist has the Absent, Demon has stigmatics, etc.

In Changeling: The Lost, there are the Fae-Touched. We’ll get to them in a bit. First, more on Lost.

In Lost, like many stories about faeries, oaths and vows are very important. They are, in the form of magical Contracts, the source of many fae powers. Changeling have a neat ability to make any spoken promise binding, invoking the force of the Wyrd to force even minor vows to be taken seriously. And many changelings are taken by the True Fae by getting ensnared in some kind of oath.

See, if you didn’t know, Changeling: The Lost is about humans taken to the home of the True Fae, and then transformed into changelings as the True Fae torment them. The game is very much about the way trauma changes a person, and how even recovering from trauma still doesn’t bring you back to the way you were— you’re healed, but you’re not the same.

And much like trauma changes a person, it isolates them too. Lost represents this in the fiction with fetches— the faerie-forged simulacra left behind in the stolen person’s wake, acting the roles of parent, sibling, friend, and so on while the original person is actually suffering with no escape.

But the Fae-Touched won’t stand for that.

Because while Changeling: The Lost recognizes that many promises aren’t serious, that when people swear, “I’ll always be there for you,” they don’t always live up to that, it also recognizes that some promises are different.

The Fae-Touched are the mortals who remember the words they swore, and will not ignore them. They can tell, in their dreams, through the nagging impulses they get in their waking moments, that the person they promised to help needs them now more than ever. They are lead by the Wyrd into the land of faerie to live up to that promise, and they follow it gladly.

A Fae-Touched is the father who knows the smiling fetch who claims to be his daughter isn’t the real thing, and that somewhere the girl he swore to protect is in mortal danger— and so he delves into a world of dreams and nightmares to bring her back.

A Fae-Touched is the woman who fights off briar wolves in a mad, twisting forest so she can find her wife, because when she said “I will never abandon you,” she meant it.

A Fae-Touched is the young man staring down a Lord of the True Fae and refusing to yield. He and his brother went through hell together years ago when their parents died, and they promised one another then that they’d always stand by each other, and some monster in a crown can’t change that.

Not every changeling is helped by a Fae-Touched, and not all of the Fae-Touched succeed. Sometimes you have to claw your own way back home. But God, what a beautiful concept.

I know that Changeling: The Lost is very dark, and the reason I love the Fae-Touched isn’t really because they’re the light to that darkness— I think that simplifies it too much.

I like the Fae-Touched not because they take away the darkness, but because they remind me we don’t always have to face the darkness alone.

Sometimes, when you think there’s no point going on, when you think it will just be the pain and the fear again and again and again… it’s not true. Because sometimes, maybe even more often than we think, there’s someone out there who knows you need help. And they ready themselves, they set out into the darkness, saying only,

“This is gonna be a long walk. But I’ll get there. I promise.”

[jasntodds]

Penance [7]

Pairing:��Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 8,230

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, fluff, mentions of death, hurt/comfort, mentions of scars, small description of jason's autopsy scar, smut, 18+ mdni

Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞

It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?

Right?

A/N: It was my birthday a few weeks ago and 2 days later I was in the ER with a bad kidney infection so that's why this is late lol I'm sorry!! lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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Jason and you patrol together and it feels like old times. You work well together just as you always have and it’s something the both of you really needed. Patrolling with Tim was different because you had to and you couldn’t really do it how you were used to because it was about training Tim and showing him the ropes. But this? This is like it always was, fighting side by side, teaming up and taking turns interrogating people. You stop at Excellent Gotham halfway through and park yourselves by Jason’s favorite gargoyle to eat.

You think tonight is healing parts of you. You felt hopeless before and now you're sitting here with your favorite person as if nothing has really changed. Maybe you don’t need to punish yourself all of the time and maybe this can be good. Maybe you can let yourself heal from everything. If Jason can, don’t you deserve to try?

“Wasn’t too boring tonight, was it?” Jason quips, the both of you back in your street clothes as you stand outside of your apartment building, Jason having rode home with you to make sure you got home safe.

“Eh.” You shrug. “It was alright I guess.” You scrunch your nose at him.

“Alright?!” Jason scoffs. “Bullshit. I’m a fucking trip.”

“You’re something.” You let out a cackle and Jason is relieved to see you look so happy. You looked lost earlier. “Can I ask you something?” You ask.

“What’s up?” Jason shifts his weight to his left leg, resting the helmet on his hip.

“When do you go see Leslie again?” You look down, tugging your sleeves over your hands before your eyes come up to Jason's.

Jason's brows raise slightly before he shrugs. “Uh…few days, why?”

“Can you, uh, a-ask her if she…ya know…maybe I need…to go.”

Jason nods his head with a warm smile. “Yeah, I’ll ask her and give her your number.”

“Thanks, Jay.” You give him a small and shy smile.

“Of course.” Jason smiles softly. “Hate fucking admitting it, but it’s been helping a bit again.”

“Good. I, uh, that’s why I wanna go. Might be for the best.”

“Good. Can’t hurt.” Jason nods his head.

“Yeah.” You smile softly. “Well, I’m gonna head in but thanks for tonight.”

“Do it again?” The corner of Jason's tugs into a hopeful smirk.

“Hell yeah.” You laugh softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You beam before spinning on your heels and entering the apartment building.

A smile is stretched across your face as you make your way up the three flights of stairs to your apartment. No part of you believes going to see Leslie is going to be easy but if she’s helping Jason who literally died, surely she can help you. And it feels really good to finally feel like you and Jason might be falling back into some sort of normal after everything.

You enter your apartment, pressing your back against the door as it shuts behind you. The TV is playing quietly from the living room, the rest of the apartment is dark. You're so stuck on how well the night went, you almost miss the sound of Molly’s voice coming from your living room.

“Molly?” You question, pushing off the door and walking the few feet into the kitchen, looking into the living room thanks to the open concept layout.

Molly is leaning against the arm of the couch holding her phone against her thighs. A wide smile splits her face as Jurassic Park is playing on the TV. Molly is still rambling on about the first time she saw the movie, completely ignoring your presence. You roll your eyes and walk over to the back of the couch, looking at her phone screen.

“Hey.” Gar chimes.

Molly jumps. “When did you get back?” Molly ask.

“Just now?” You question. “Hey, Gar?” Your brows furrow, looking between the two of them.

Nothing going on, sure.

Molly looks at the time on her phone. “Did it go okay? You’re not mad are you?” Molly questions.

“What happened?” Gar asks.

You look between the two of them and maybe nothing is going on but from where you're standing, it definitely looks like it. You aren't even upset about it, but if something is going on, you think it's weird and confusing neither one of them would just say something but you aren't going to push. It's not really your business or your place. So, you decide, you're not even gonna say anything. You'll sit back and see what happens with them.

“Nothing?” You shake your head. “We patrolled together, grabbed some food, and came back.” You shrug your shoulders. “So, I’m gonna shower and head to bed.” You reach over the couch and steal a handful of popcorn from Molly’s bowl. You glance to the TV, watching the water in the cup on the dash of the Jeep start to vibrate. “You guys are missing the best part.” You state as you start walking away. “Get it together, guys.” You make your voice cheery, making sure they know you're joking and you can hear Molly laugh quietly as you enter your room.

You grab your change of clothes before heading to the bathroom and hopping in the shower. Music plays through the bathroom until it's interrupted by a ding from a text. You peek out of the shower just in time to see your phone screen still on with Jason’s contact on your screen. He’s texted you a quick ‘made it home’. You smile to yourself and continue washing your hair while your phone chimes again. This time when you look over, it’s a second text from Jason telling you you should just meet him at his place around noon and you can go to Home Depot together. You roll your eyes but your smile is glued to your lips while you finish your shower.

You take a seat on the toilet seat with a towel draped around your body. You pick up your phone while your stomach bubbles and twists.

You: What? Don’t trust my driving?

Jaybird: No ☠️

You: Fuck you 🔪

Jaybird: I’m really shaking in my boots babe

You: You suck

Jaybird: 🤤

You: 🤮

Jaybird: 🖕

You: Ill see you tomorrow I do like to be chauffeured around

Jaybird: How many times did it take autocorrect to get that word right?

Your jaw drops before you burst out laughing. He’s such an asshole but it did take more than a few tries to get that damn word right and he would know.

You: I will walk over to your apartment and fucking stab you so fucking help me jason todd

Jaybird: You’d have to catch me first babe

You: That a dare?

Jaybird: I dare you

You: Okay

You toss your phone and immediately start getting dressed in sweats. You don’t bother with makeup or anything else. You get the bathroom tidied up before you exit the bathroom, phone in hand before you go for your backpack. Molly is still peaking over the couch on her Facetime call with Gar.

“What’re you doing?” Molly asks.

“Going to stab Jason.” You answer casually while Molly looks to her phone at Gar.

“She’s doing what?”

“He dared me, Gar!” You yell but Molly and Gar can tell by the airiness in your voice it's really not that serious.

“He dared you to stab him?” Molly asks, unsure if she really heard you correctly or if she really wants to any sort of context.

You widen your eyes at her, nodding your head quickly. “Yeah! And I’m not gonna back down. It’s a dare.” You scoff with the furrow of your brows.

“Were they always this weird?” Molly asks Gar.

“Hey!” You yell.

“Yes.” Gar answers with a nod.

“Okay, I’ll be back!” You call with a smile as you kick your shoes on and head out, locking the three locks on your way out.

Jason prepares for you to get there, knowing you take dares seriously. He unlocks the door and shuts every light off in the place. If you want to come for him, he’s not going to make it easy. That ruins the game. It’s silly and he knows but at this point, he doesn’t want to miss even a single opportunity with you. Yes, he shouldn't have wasted a month and a half and neither should you but he’s thinking maybe that was for the best. It did give you both space to start to healing. It gave you both space to start setting up your own lives and finding out who you are today. It seems to have helped and there’s nothing saying you can’t continue while trying to get back what you once had. Optimism is not something that ever came easy to Jason Todd but he’s letting himself feel optimistic about you for just a second.

You pull up to Jason's place, seeing it’s completely dark. At first, it almost scares you, thinking maybe something happened and this is a trap. That would be something that could happen. But, that thought fades quickly because you don’t have that pit in your stomach and Jason would never have played along with anything to endanger you. This is Jason being a shit.

You dig in your bag and pull out your phone, using the flashlight as you enter the building, keeping light on your toes.

“Finally.” Jason's voice rings through the speaker system. “Usual rules?”

This was something you did at the Manor when Bruce was out. You blacked out the entire house, the only light would come from the moon outside. Other than that, it was just you two and a black house trying to locate each other. The only rules were not to permanently injure the other one -- don’t shove each other down the stairs and no lethal weapons. First person to disarm the other wins.

“You’re on, Jay.” You call as you shut your flashlight off, pocketing your phone.

You have your hands at your sides as they start to warm and glow a vibrant shade of green. Your steps are careful, using the glow to guide your feet. Back at the manor, you didn’t even need the light from your hands at one point. You had the whole place memorized from doing this with Jason which did kind of defeat some of the purpose of the blacking out the building but it served enough purpose. Plus, there are more stakes. It has the same premise as Dick’s whole thing with the blindfolds but this is more fun.

Jason is positioned at the end of the hall, carefully listening. He can see the glow of your hands which he said was cheating at first, until he realized he can also find you. He doesn’t need the glowing but it’s definitely not a bad thing to have on his end. So, he stands against the wall, watching and listening to you walk closer. His eyes track you, knowing you’ll search the full hallway before attempting the stairs. A part of him wants to dodge around you and essentially play a weird game of hide and seek but instead, he keeps his feet planted. The idea is to disarm, not to find.

Your hands stop glowing the further down the hallway you get. Jason's brows furrow, still listening to your footsteps. They echo softly no matter how light on your feet you try to be. If you know anything, it’s that Jason likes to play games. He’s going to make finding him easy the first time because that’s the point. And then you’ll have to spar it out until one of you backs off and runs off. He’s done this before so you keep walking with soft feet until you reach the end of the hallway. Jason is like a radiator. He could heat up an entire room if left there long enough so as you stand right in front of him, you can feel the space between you growing warmer.

You strike first, just missing his head as Jason grabs your arm. He spins you around as you kick your leg around his, sending you both to the ground. Jason falls on top of you, barely catching his weight on his hands to not crush you and you don’t miss a beat, crawling from under him only for Jason to grab your ankle and yank you back. Jason hears your laugh through a squeal.

“That’s a fucking ego boost.” Jason laughs with you.

“You’re not scary, sorry, Jay.” You tease, yanking your ankle free.

“Lotta people'd beg to differ." Jason defends as he hears you run off down the hallway.

“Not to me!” You sing-song, your voice echoing off the walls and staircase.

A smile stretches across Jason’s face as he shakes his head. He starts walking after you, not hearing your footsteps anymore and he knows you've hidden yourself behind some sort of corner so he’s careful with his steps.

A large part of him thought the good parts of him died and the pit kept them. It kept them in exchange for his life, maybe that’s just the price he was to pay in order to live. Someone can’t come back to life without sacrificing something. Look at Ra’s. But, over the last few days, he’s learning that may not have been in the case.

His bones still ache and something still feels hauntingly different but the good parts of him are still there. Tim didn’t even blink when Jason showed up in the alley, he was so unbothered by all of Jason’s training methods that even got you to pitch a fit every once in a while. Jason had a good time training Tim and him and you are back to doing this stupid game in the middle of the night with laughter bouncing off of the walls. He’s smiled more the last few days than he has in two months. Maybe the good parts of him aren’t entirely gone. They were just covered in guilt and remorse.

You're tucked away in a corner and you always wonder how Jason manages to be so silent as he walks. You can be quiet but you can’t even tell when he’s moving until it’s almost too late. It’s for his own protection, he’s been doing this longer, but it’s always fascinating to you and it'd be a little scary if you didn't know him. One second he’s down the hall and the next, he’s standing in front of you without ever making a sound. It’s his most intimidating quality.

But you're careful anyway, listening, focusing on your surroundings and then the hairs stand up on the back of your neck with a subtle throb starting to your right. You dodge just as Jason's fist flies through the air and you grab his arm, elbowing the inside of his arm. Jason lets out a groan and you twist it around before Jason laughs.

“It’s cute you think you still stand a chance.”

“I’ve taken you before.” You quip, holding his arm behind his back.

“You’re out of practice.” Jason chuckles, pulling his arm away before he spins back around, going to grab you but you jump back.

“So are you.” You quip.

“You sure?” Jason asks making you nearly scream. He’s right in front of you now and you didn’t feel him that time. His breath is fanning over your face and without needing to see him, you can tell he’s smirking, cheeks probably that pretty shade of pink.

“Uh-huh.” Your voice catches in your throat.

“Right.” Jason gives you this chuckle that makes you want to kiss the smirk off of his face but you know you can’t very well do that now so instead, you make your move.

You quickly slide to the right before kicking his feet from under him. Jason lands on a knee and he swipes his leg across the floor, knocking you down just as you try to run off. It’s Jason’s turn to get to his feet and find a new spot.

The two of you go back and forth like this and it’s different this time. Usually, you spar hard and you both make solid efforts to disarm the other but this time, you’re spending a lot of time hiding and running. It wasn’t so much intentional at first from either of you but the more you do it, the more you realize this is just more time to spend together. Tomorrow comes eventually and tomorrow always has some sort of surprise in it. Tonight, you don’t wanna worry about that. You spend your time in the dark, finding each other and going back forth with fists and quips.

Two hours in, Jason is hiding out on the landing of the first staircase, tucked away in the corner. The window is two feet away from him, the city lights cascading through the pains and onto the wood flooring. His eyes stay trained in front of him, hearing you from downstairs walking around. You've been looking for a few minutes and Jason is wondering if you’ll give up. And then he hears a smack and a groan from down the stairs. Jason has to stifle his own laugh, far nicer than you who burst out laughing when Jason hit the doorframe. You seem to recover okay, your steps picking up a few seconds later and he can hear you ascending the staircase.

Your steps stop right at the top.

You roll your eyes and you know damn well Jason is right behind the light of the window. He’ll be able to see you before you can see him. And if you know anything about him, you know he’s standing right in the corner, right foot lifted and pressed against the wall with his arms crossed and that stupid smirk on his lips. This game was never very fair from your perspective. You've never won. Jason’s senses have always been better, Bruce trained him well. As much as you hate the thought. You let out a sigh, take two steps forward and stand directly in the light, a taunt telling Jason to get it over with.

Jason pushes off the wall with his right foot and makes his move but he’s cautious. You do not give up, especially to him when there’s a game like this in play. He strikes first, you block him in an instant, using the light to drag him from the shadows and you get him with your knee right in his side. Jason doesn’t even flinch, throwing another hit, this time hitting you on your side. The two go back and forth, breathing turning heavy as you use the city lights to your advantage. But, it’s Jason who gets the upper hand as he almost always does, grabbing both of your wrists as you use one to try to punch him and the other to block his hands. His grip is tight and unwavering.

Jason’s chest is nearly touching yours as you look up at him. There’s a devious gleam you can make out even in the low light, the corners of his mouth perked into a subtle smirk. Your heart jumps into your throat.

“Giving up so quick?” Jason questions.

“No.” You let out a soft pout but you aren’t fighting him.

Jason can feel his heartbeat on his tongue. His grip loosens on your wrists but he doesn’t let go. Instead, his thumb rubs your skin softly, not even realizing he’s doing it. It’s been hours and he’s been having a blast and he knows she is, too. For the life of him, he can’t figure out why you both let time go by. He does know why, because it all hurt but maybe it was just getting over the hump of it all. He thinks it must be just as hard for you to overcome as it is for him. But, you both always seemed to be able to cope better around each other. It’s the understanding of every action and word that leaves your lips. The feeling that you’ll both never be alone.

Jason nods once. “Not trying very hard.” Jason whispers softly.

Last night felt so good and cathartic. Maybe you just want to live in another one of those moments for a few minutes.

“You’ll just tighten your grip.” You whisper back, watching a cheeky smirk grow on his lips.

“Doesn’t seem to bother you much.” Jason quips and his eyes glance to your lips.

What if he kisses you anyway? Just one more time. Then you can do this friend thing with the game and the banter. What if he kisses you anyway?

“No.” You answer back, glancing to his lips.

What if you kiss him? Just one more time and then you can do the whole friend like you did before. What if you kiss him?

“How’re you gonna get out of this then?” Jason quips.

Fuck it.

You lunge forward, your lips connecting with Jason’s. He groans and immediately drops your wrists as his hands come to your cheeks, pulling you closer to him. Jason melts right into you, nearly exploding at the seams with the very thought you were thinking the same thing he was.

His mouth moves with yours and you push forward until Jason’s back hits the wall. Jason grabs your hips, turning you both around so your back is pinned against the wall. He kisses down your neck, nipping and biting at the flesh. Your heartbeat skyrockets as your hand tangles into his messy hair. Your eyes are closed as a soft moan escapes your lips. Jason bites down, sucking a mark into your skin.

You pull his head back to your lips, the kiss turning sloppy and wet. Jason slides his hands under your thighs, picking you up to pin you against the wall as his knee slots into between your legs. His thigh hits just the right spot making you let out a moan into his mouth immediately followed by a groan.

You pull his hair back, getting a pretty groan from Jason before you go to his neck, leaving your own purple mark. Jason holds your hips helping you grind down against his thigh. The sound of your desperate gasps makes him want to lose his mind. He wants to surrender all control he has ever had and forget anything bad ever happened. His head is lust drunk and all he wants is you. His bulge is growing and throbbing through his sweatpants, desperately wanting free.

You feel yourself growing closer and wetter but more desperate. There’s not quite enough friction and he knows it. He knows this only ever gets you teetering on the edge but it’s never quite enough. He knows exactly what he’s doing and you want to bite him. Your pussy throbs and aches for something to fill you up.

“Jay.” You pant desperately into his mouth.

He fucking snickers.

And stills your hips.

“Jay.” Your brows pinch together as if you're in pain.

“What’s that?”Jason teases.

“Fuck. You.” You nod your head, trying to move your hips but his grip keeps you steady.

Jason leans forward, nipping up your neck making you whine. He can feel your pulse against his lips as he kisses his way up to your cheek. You feel him grin against your skin and you think your skin might set the both of you on fire.

“Say please.” Jason mocks you, whispering in your ear, his voice deep and graveled.

You think you've melted into the palms of his hands.

Jason loosens his grip slightly, allowing you to get some friction for just a few seconds before stilling your hips.

“Didn't hear ya, babe?” Jason’s eyes lock on yours with the quick raise of his brows, using all of his self-control not to cave himself.

There's a sliver of you that wants to push him, see who can actually outlast the other because you know it'll be him begging for you in about ten minutes. But, your head is swimming and your body is erupting in goosebumps. The desperation of wanting him all over you makes you lose every other thought that was once there.

You kiss him, keeping your lips close to his, pulling away just enough to speak. “Please.”

Jason doesn’t waste a single second to dropping his knee as his lips connect back with yours.

Jason pulls you with him, his back towards the second set of stairs as you both walk up them, unsteadily with your lips connected. Once you’re up the stairs, Jason is grabbing the hem of your hoodie, tugging it over you and tossing it on the floor. Jason’s hoodie is next, tossed somewhere in the dark hallway. By the time you reach Jason’s room, he’s tugging your top off and tossing it to the floor.

It’s all hasty and hot, desperate and needy as Jason pulls you to his bed. He lands on top of you, catching you to mind your fall and your hands are under his shirt. They’re warm and soft. They make him feel whole again.

The words ‘i need you’ circle his brain but never quite make it out. He needs you like he needs air. You're the breath of fresh air on the first day of spring. It’s the first day the air doesn’t hurt his lungs. You taste how the word cathartic sounds. He needs you like he needs the oxygen in his lungs.

You scratch up his back and Jason arches his back right into you. His head spins. His lips trail down to your cheek and then your neck. He leaves a second mark in his wake and your head falls fuzzy. You aren’t even entirely sure you're even here anymore. All you know is that you want him and your skin is on fire. You can’t form a single coherent thought as Jason makes his way down to your collarbone, leaving yet another mark. All you can think about his him. His mouth and his the way his teeth graze over your skin, how warm his hand is as it trails up to your breast. All you can think about is the pretty moans and groans that leave his lips as you claw his back again. You've turned to mush all over again.

He presses some kisses around where your braw cuts off, just enough to tease you before he comes back up, kissing your lips. And all you know for certain is how badly you need him. You need him today and tomorrow and every day after. Every moment with him is worth every bit of pain and agony. Every moment without him is boring and lackluster. Jason walks into a room and it’s like a color bomb explodes through the room. His laugh could light up the darkest of hallways and his eyes are the prettiest shade of green, they could convert anyway to love the color. Breathing is easier whenever he's around.

Your hands go to the hem of his shirt and try to tug it off of his head but Jason stops you, shooting up immediately. Your high immediately vanishes seeing the look of panic spread over his feature. Jason’s head comes back, still spinning but down in panic and his chest heaves. What’s he supposed to do?

“I-I’m sorry.” You shake your head, leaning up on your elbows. “I-, uh, I thought…well…I…I should have asked--”

“No.” Jason shakes his head, looking down then back to you. “It’s not…that.” Jason nearly chokes on his own words.

“What’s wrong, Jay?” Your brows tug together and even though you're the one half-naked, he’s the one feeling exposed.

Jason’s teeth grind together and he didn’t really think this far ahead. His mind was clouded with the thought of you and the desire to just have one more fucking night. His mind was clouded with the idea of chasing the feeling you shared just a few months ago. He didn’t think about this step. This part of the whole sex thing. You don’t care. You never care about scars but it hurts him.

Jason clears his throat as he brings his hands back to your hips, watching your chest quickly rise and fall with every breath. He's running through everything he could say. How is he supposed to tell you he has a thick, protruding scar from his collarbones all the way down his abdomen? That can't possibly be some sort of turn on and if anything, he's almost certain it'll send you into a spiral because it nearly does to him every damn day he looks at it. What's he supposed to say? What's he supposed to say without making you feel worse or feel like you need to push to make sure he's okay?

What's he supposed to say in order to keep this moment intact without it being just another moment tainted by painful memories?

“We can just keep doing this. Um…I-I don’t mind…if you don’t.” You try to pull in a breath. The guilt chews at your stomach. “I, uh, I don’t—“

“Y/n.” Jason cuts you off, not wanting you to spiral. “It's not that, I fucking swear.” Jason squeezes your hips and his brows twitch up with reassurance. He's just not sure if he's ready to reveal that part to you. It makes him feel guilty. He's supposed to be able to share everything with you but the shame eats at him. “I want to.” He clarifies, earning a nod from you. “It’s just…” His eyes go distant for a second before coming back to yours. “Stays on.”

You offer him a large nod and you thought it was odd he turned around before to change. Jason has never been very modest about anything ever. He has worked very hard for his chest and abs and he doesn’t mind showing off a bit, especially in front of you because he’s still a shithead. But, last night he didn’t and sitting here now, you're putting the pieces together while a piece of your heart breaks for him.

“I, uh…I know.” You nod softly, pushing yourself up to sit up fully.

Jason sits on his knees, his knees on either side of your legs.

You can't know.

“What?” Jason’s brows tug together.

“The night Crane kidnapped you, you, uh, you couldn’t get out of your gear so I had to help you.” You offer him a soft shrug. “So, uh…I just want you to know that I already know. It’s completely fine, I get it, but I wanted you to know that I already knew.”

Jason can feel his throat wanting to close and his world feels like it's closing in on him. It feels like a nightmare. He doesn't want you to know. It's embarrassing.

“You saw it?!” Jason’s voice cracks as his cheeks burn a vibrant red as he bites his own tongue to try and hide and his shame.

You nod again. “Yeah. You, uh, you were really high and I figured it would not be something you would want brought up.”

Jason shakes his head looking down. He feels tainted, ruined, a mess of broken and damaged pieces piled on the floor to be discarded and forgotten about. He's not even sure what's worse. The fact you knew and then never said anything or the fact he didn't even get a chance to make peace with it before he told you. He hates it so fucking much and it just makes him feel like the biggest failure there is. What more proof does anyone really need? He failed at being Robin, failed at taking down the Joker, failed at being a good son, failed at being a good boyfriend, he even failed at staying dead. It's just embarrassing and shameful.

You can see the gears in his head working overtime. He's going to spiral and the scar doesn't mean shit to you. Your entire back is riddled with them. Any one of those could have caused massive bleeding and killed you. The way you see it, his scars were better because most of them were just part of the job. He got them putting himself in danger for the greater good.

"I don't care, ya know?" You state with the raise of your brows and all Jason does is shake his head. "I don't fucking care about it, Jay. I know you do. Whatever the fuck you're thinking about it, you're wrong." You rest a hand on his cheek. "You don't have to take your shirt off around me if you don't want to. I get it."

"I fucking hate it." Jason states, taking your hand in his, his fingers delicate over your skin. He uses both hands to rub circles into your palm, massaging the muscles.

"For what it's worth," You let out a breath. "I don't. I don't care and I don't mind. That shit doesn't matter to me, Jay."

"I know." Jason nods his head because he knows you don't. It's something in his own head. It's just really difficult to move on from.

"So, whatever you wanna do, I don't mind." You offer him a tender smile.

Jason lets out a breath. “Thank you.” Jason says back. “Did you know? That Bruce had it done?”

“Yeah.” You pull in a breath, biting back your bitterness for Bruce. “He didn’t say why though I was screaming at him when I found out so he didn’t have much chance, I guess.”

Jason lets out a quiet but sad chuckle because even in death, you will fight tooth and nail for him. “You were screaming at him for it?”

“Well, yeah, I thought it was pointless. I figure it’s just legal reasons, maybe.” You shrug. “But I didn’t wanna hear it then.” You chuckle softly. “So, yeah, I uh, I knew he did and I knew the Pit didn’t take it away.”

It's something he's going to need to find a way to make terms with but at least, you're understanding about it. He wishes he had the opportunity to tell you himself but...he's thinking maybe this was easier. You've known and never batted an eye or said a word about it. Maybe he doesn't have to feel all that shame and embarrassment around you.

“White hair, kept all of my scars, and got the one my chest.” Jason lets out a scoff.

“Least it fixed your face.” You quip back with a cheeky smile in hopes it'll help cheer him up a bit.

You see the flash of something kind and cheeky cross over his face.

Jason drops your hand, leaning in. “What’s wrong with my face, huh?” The corner of his mouth perks into a grin and you always have a way to make him feel better about anything and everything.

Your name might as well be synonymous with catharsis.

“Did you want a list?” You raise with a smirk as you tilt your head to the right.

Jason lets out a laugh. “Fuck you.” Jason shakes his head at you and his eyes go to your lips before traveling back up to your eyes.

“Say please.” You lean in closer to him, brushing your nose against his.

Jason shakes his head, bursting at the seams with a devilish grin. His hand comes up to your cheek before he kisses you, pushing the both of you down to the bed.

“Please.” Jason nearly growls into your mouth.

Jason leans up and tugs his shirt off quickly before coming right back to your lips. Your hands tangle in his hair and give the strands a light tug. You push on his shoulder, signaling for him to roll over. You get on top before you trail down and press kisses to his cheek and then to his neck, leaving your second mark of the night.

The words ‘i love you’ bounce around Jason’s head like a pinball in a pinball machine. He’s so in love with you he thinks he might have lost all of his sanity. He did not know it was possible to feel so strongly for another person but he does. And he wants to live here forever. You make him better and he is so certain of that if not for everything that has happened but the reason that Jason doesn’t want to self-sabotage with you. It’s not worth it. You’ll fight and make up and it’ll have been for nothing. All it would do is hurt the both of you and haven’t you both been hurt enough?

You can feel Jason's hardening bulge beneath you. Without breaking the kiss, you slide your fingers into the waistband of his pants, helping him tug them down. Jason sits up, helping you get the rest of his clothes off before he flips the two of you so you're back on your back. You let out a laugh just as you always did and Jason thinks he'd never grow tired of it.

Your hands are in his hair and he can feel you smiling against his lips despite the haste of your kiss. Jason slides his hand under your back, undoing your bra before he helps you get off. His hand goes right to your right breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and finger. You moan into his mouth as your head starts to go fuzzy all over again. You squirm under him and a grin comes to Jason's lips.

You snake your hand to his cock, wrapping your fingers around the shaft before you start pumping him slowly. Jason's mouth opens against you as his hips stutter for just a second. You start moving your arm faster and Jason's mouth trails back down to your neck. His teeth graze the skin and you think you'd let him mark every part of your body without ever putting a thought into it.

He sucks a mark into your neck.

And then another.

And another leading down the scar on your shoulder from the bullet wound.

He stops there, switching to a kiss and your stomach twists while your brain starts to turn to goo. He presses kisses back up to your lips and you're squirming under his touch as you can feel yourself growing wetter by the second. 

"Condom." You mutter against his lips before removing your hand from his cock, precum leaking from the tip.

Jason wastes no time in reaching for his nightstand to tug out a condom. You're already stripping the rest of your clothes by the time Jason has the package in his hand. 

Jason smirks down at you. "Not wasting any time, huh?"

You shrug, almost taunting him as you keep your eyes locked on his, careful not to look down at the scar. "Been a while."

Jason chuckles as heat runs over his neck. "Having withdrawal?"

"I could just do it myself." You quip back.

"Can I watch?" Jason questions and a part of you thinks he's serious.

You roll your eyes. "Maybe next time."

Jason has to clear his throat as his cock twitches with the remark. "Hold you to it." Jason mutters as he finally gets the wrapper open.

"Then I get to watch you."

Jason's eyes flash over to you as his stomach drops and spins. "Whatever you want, princess." Jason finally gets the condom on and you pull him back down to you.

His lips connect with yours, hot and fast at first, hungry as if he hasn't eaten in a month. His cock is lined up with your soaking pussy but the kiss slows and deepens. Jason's hand trails down your right thigh, delicate fingers running over your skin as goosebumps erupt over your body. You run a hand down his shoulder and to his arm, his bicep twitches under your touch.

Jason is warm and sturdy, an unwavering force that you find yourself so intertwined with, you really aren't sure how you've managed to live so much of your life without him. It always feels like he's meant to be around you like someone out there made him just for you and you were made just for him. In some ways, that's scary and feels like a big responsibility, but in others, it's comforting. It's the reassurance that it's just you and him in the end of it all. You'll get there one day. That's how it's supposed to be.

Jason pulls away, resting his forehead against yours before he starts sliding his cock into your aching pussy. The pit in your stomach grows as you start to see stars. Jason's eyes are shut and he's thinking he's left this whole plane of existence. He sinks into you slow and steady until he bottoms out.

His eyes open, locking on yours. Your fingers are lightly running up his arm and the words of 'i love you' almost spill from his lips like an overflowing cup of water. His nose brushes yours and he almost says it. He doesn't want to scare you away with piling too much on you at once. Last night and the scar tonight, he knows you're worried the Titans.

He'll tell you later.

Instead, Jason settles for something with the same meaning.

Your eyes close and the words of 'i love you' almost escape your lips like an easy breath. You brush your nose with his and you almost say it. Jason has been through a lot. You don't want to add to it, not right now. You don't want to add more pressure if he can't say it back yet. You don't want to scare him off.

You'll tell him later.

Instead, you settle for something with the same meaning.

"You and me." Jason whispers to you as he goes to kiss your cheek.

A tender smile pulls at your lips as your heart stutters in your chest. "You and me."

A smile rips through Jason's lips as his heart feels like it's just burst through his ribcage.

Jason pulls out and pushes back in, just as slow this time before he starts picking up the pace. Your mind starts swimming with his quick movements. His mouth is on yours again and you can barely keep up. Your mind is flooded with how full he's making you as your pussy clenches around him.

You try to form words, anything to tell him to keep going but nothing can form quite right, giving Jason the ego boost he doesn't exactly need. He gets the idea and doesn't lighten up. His hand grips your thigh, tugging your leg up near his hip. With the new angle, he's tapping the patch of nerves inside of you. You gasp against him, your nails digging into his back.

"J-Jay." You nearly whine into his mouth and Jason nearly finishes right there with the first word you're able to get out being his name.

"Hmm?" He hums, trying to hold his composure. "Gotta speak up, babe." Jason teases.

"H-harder." You get out.

Jason grins wickedly against your lips, doing as you asked but only for a few thrusts before he stops entirely. "Like that?"

Your eyes shoot open, pupils blow with desperation and lust. "Please."

You don't have to ask again.

Jason thrusts his hips harder and faster than before. You groan louder below him almost immediately. Your pussy is clenching around him more and more and he can tell you're getting close. He slides a hand between you, rubbing tight circles around your clit. You nearly scream with the new sensation.

You grip his hair and pull his neck closer to you just as Jason gets you to reach your high. You let out a mixed whine and moan of his name before you bite down where his shoulder meets his neck, desperately trying not to scream. Tears prick your eyes as your stomach tightens and your whole body shakes and twitches beneath Jason.

It takes everything in him not to lose himself until you're finally finished, panting below him. His hips stall against you as his head hangs in the cook of your neck, his cock twitching as he shoots his load into the condom.

Jason leans up, chest heaving and he places a kiss to your cheek and then your forehead before he rolls off of you to dispose of the condom in his bathroom.

You sit up, wrapping the blanket around you with your chest still heaving and you give Jason a tender smile as he walks back towards the bed. He grabs his clothes as you watch him and you're getting your first full view of the scar. It doesn't bother you but you understand why it bothers him. Seeing it in full, it's a harsh scar, not something that looks like it'll even fade. You think if it were you, it'd bother you, too.

Jason makes his way back to the bed, plopping back down before he leans against the pillow. His eyes are still lustblown as he gives you a soft and tired smile, and you think his eyes are filled with something you became so accustomed to. Your hand goes to his hair, brushing the white streaks away from his face. Jason’s hand grabs your hand before bringing your palm to his lips and he presses tender kisses over your hand.

“For the record,” You start as Jsaon places your hand back down. “I don’t care what scars you come home with.” You say so easily and your word choice doesn’t go unnoticed by Jason. “I know you do but I don’t…” You pause, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Just as long as you come home.” You nod a few times as your brows pinch together.

Jason sits up, his face coming just a few inches from yours. “I’m sorry I didn’t.” His voice is rough and this is a different apology than the one you got on the roof. The one you got at his safe house. There are no stakes in the apology.

“It’s not your fault.” You place a hand on his cheek and Jason leans into it. "I forgive you anyway, though."

He still wonders how you were ever able to bear it. Despite his general feeling of self-doubt and self-loathing, he knows your feelings have always been very real for him. You didn’t cope, that he knows for certain and he’s not entirely sure if you ever will. It’s something you have to make peace with just as much as he does. And he thinks about how maybe that’s an important part of you both moving forward. You forgive him for some reason but Jason doesn’t think you've accepted it yet. A part of him has, it happened to him and he’s alive. He went through it. One second, your world is moving at a steady pace and the next it’s halted, suddenly stopped with no warning and then it’s thrown in the other direction. It sounds more like whiplash. So, Jason wonders if you’ll ever hit the acceptance stage. He wonders how you were ever able to bear any of it. He knows for certain if it were him, he’d never be able to.

Your eyes are soft and tired and there’s the tiniest, adoring smile on your lips. A look Jason is privileged enough to be the only one to receive. And he thinks about he’d never be able to bear the loss of you. It rips him to shreds. It would take all of the remaining good parts of him and shatter them. He’d never recover if something happened to you. Even if it's beyond his control. It’s terrifying feeling that way about another person.

Jason nods against you before he presses a kiss to the palm of your hand. “Yeah…” He lets out a breath. “Thanks for sticking around.”

“Thanks for letting me.” You smile softly. "You and me?"

Jason offers the same smile back. "You and me." Jason confirms. “You still gonna talk to Leslie?” Jason asks as you pull your hand away.

You nod softly. “Yeah. If she has anything open.”

Jason gives you a soft smile. “Good.” He nods softly. He sits back up all the way, looking to his doorway. “Gonna grab your clothes.” Jason chuckles softly, tossing his shirt over his head before he gets up.

You watch Jason disappear through the doorway and you're quick to grab his pillow, checking to see if he’s replaced the knife with a gun. Your chest warms with the sight of your blue switchblade still locked and lying under his pillow. It’s a relief he hasn’t put the gun back. Your thoughts are jolted as fabric hits your face.

“Hey!” You yell through a laugh, your clothes falling into your lap.

“Fucking nosey ass.” Jason nods his head at you, making his way back to the bed with his hoodie in hand.

“You’re an interesting person to be nosey about.” You shrug as you get the blanket off of your shoulders. You can feel the tiredness weighing on your bones and you know if you don't head home soon, you'll end up staying here. As much as you really want to, you do not want to overstay your welcome. “Well,” You sigh as you tug your shirt over your head. “I should probably head home.” You laugh softly, seeing the orange light of sunrise seeping through Jason’s window.

“Guess so.” Jason nearly pouts at the thought. He never wants you to leave but he doesn't want you to feel obligated to always stay just because you're here late. You'll be back here later anyway. “Still gonna help me today?” Jason’s eyes are hopeful and big.

“Of course.” You laugh softly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “I’ll just sleep for a few hours and how about we like one?” You ask. “We’ll both be out of it if we don’t get some sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Jason says in agreement. “Want an escort home?” He asks but you can tell by the way he raises of his brows and the way he's already moving to get up, it's not really an offer. He's going to do it anyway.

“Thank you.” You stand up, putting the rest of your clothes on. "Just get some sleep when you get back, okay?"

Jason nods with a grin. "Of course. Gotta be well-rested hanging out with you."

"I can not help you." You quip as you grab your bag.

"Sorry." Jason lets out a chuckle.

"Let's just go." Your eyes widen at him to tease him before Jason gestures towards the door for you to lead the way.

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[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do - Part 4

Masterpost of ao3 link and all parts.

wc: 1372

“Hey Dora?” Danny asked from where he was sprawled out on the ground, exhausted from the training session with the other ghost. There was no denying that he was learning a lot from his sessions with her, but she did not hold back. His bruises would have bruises if he didn’t heal so fast.

“Yes Danny?”

“So, awhile back in one of my etiquette sessions with Princess Dorothea, we went over something, but I want to get your take on it too.”

“You mean you did not pay attention and now need me to fill in what you missed?” Pandora asked.

Danny was pretty sure she was smirking.

“No! I paid attention. I just— it doesn’t make sense with what I’ve experienced and I don’t want to messed this up.”

The other halfa’s haunt had felt horrible. While in it, Danny couldn’t wait to get out of there and as soon as he was out of the airspace the relief was instant. But the whole flight back to Amity Park that sadness he had felt at the center of the haunt weighed on Danny. It seemed so at odds with everything the haunt felt like.

It made him wonder what the other halfa was really like under that anger.

It made him think that maybe…

“Very well,” Pandora said, interrupting Danny’s thoughts. He was pretty sure her willingness was less that she believed him about paying attention and more that she was humoring him. He’d take what he could get. “What was this lesson about?”

“Entering another ghost’s haunts. Princess said you were supposed to introduce yourself, ask for permission to enter, and present a gift to the other ghost.”

She nodded along. “Yes, that is the polite way to go about it. Not doing so can be seen as a declaration of battle for many ghosts.”

“Right, that’s great,” Danny grumbled. He really, really hoped that the other halfa had liked the bathbombs. “If that’s the case, why does no one treat me that way? Like, none of the other ghosts asked for permission to enter my haunt or gave me gifts. I mean, I guess some of them introduce themselves. You know, ‘Oooooo I am the Box Ghost!’ and all.”

Pandora smiled at him. Yep, she was amused by all this. “Little King, why would they when you invited them?”

“What? No!” Danny sat up with a jolt. Every bit of his non-corporeal self protested the motion, but he was too thrown by the implication to care. “No I fucking did not invite them! Why would I invite them to wreck my home?”

Pandora raised a brow at him. “What do you believe the portal to be? It is a beacon of welcome.”

“I- what. No! I didn’t even— okay, I mean, yes, I was technically the one who turned the portal on, but I didn’t mean to and it’s my p—” Danny fumbled, swallowing back the hurt. “—Jack and Maddie were the ones who made the portal.”

“But you turned it on, as you said,” Pandora said. “Your very essence is linked to it. It resonates with your power.”

Danny groaned and fell forward to bury his face in his hands. His words of despair were muffled as he continued. “Okay, sure. That’s great. So I, what, declared to the whole ghost realm I was open for a war or something?”

Pandora’s laughter rang out at that, making Danny pry his head out of his hands to look at her incredulously. “No little one! Not to war, but to brawl!”

“What.”

“Brawling! A friendly clash of power and obsession and cores!” Pandora said enthusiastically, her hair flaring brighter for a moment in passion. Danny would swear she struck a pose. (Ghosts, they always found a way to be extra dramatic.) “Brawling is how many ghosts bond with each other. It is very invigorating and satisfies many’s cores.”

“So you’re saying,” Danny started, speaking slowly as he tried to gather his thoughts. His words sped up and got louder till he was almost yelling, “that, what, ghosts are just overgrown beta fish or something? That all of those times I’ve been attacked, all those times Amity Park has been attacked, was just another ghost having fun? Even Skulker? He wants to mount my skin to his wall!”

Pandora paused at that, considering it. “Well, perhaps not Skulker. All ghosts are not the same in motivation or kindness. Though now I am sure that he does not wish to truly harm you. If that is not the case than I will be having a talk with him.”

Her one hand tightened around her sword and her eyes flashed dangerously.

For a small, brief— super brief— moment Danny actually felt sorry for Skulker. The mood passed quickly.

“Right, okay,” Danny said, trying to control both his volume and temper. It wasn’t fair to snap at Pandora like that when she was just trying to explain things. “So a few ghosts like Skulker and Specter and the fruit loop aside, the other ghosts are just… play fighting?”

“Yes, for the most part I believe that to be true. Sometimes it is an attempt to fuel their obsession, but to brawl with you directly is an act of bonding. They are your friends, Danny,” Pandora said, her tone softening, “surely you know this?”

“I—”

Danny stopped to really think about that question. Johnny, Kitty, and Ember were like annoying siblings these days. Boxy the weird uncle someone had put up with over the holidays. Even Skulker wasn’t the worst anymore. Fright Knight he was getting along surprisingly well with in a sort of coworker way. And of course he liked all the Ancients.

“I… guess?”

Pandora came and knelt next to him, resting one of her hands on his shoulder. “What makes you doubt that, little king?”

He frowned and looked away from her with a little shrug. “I guess it’s just, you know, you almost get killed— you know, like, fully killed— by someone a few times and it’s a little hard to move them into the friend box.”

“Their drive in the brawls were not to kill you,” Pandora reminded him. She paused before adding, “Except perhaps Skulker. Whom I will be speaking with.”

“Sure, maybe, like, it’s not that I don’t believe you, Pandora, but it does change that they almost did? I…” He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his head on them. It sucked to have to admit this to someone he really respected like Pandora. She was so strong and he was… “I know I’m the king to be now and I’ve fought a lot of really tough enemies, but when I was first starting out I wasn’t strong like this. I was really hurt in some of those fights. They may have been playing, but I was fighting for my life. Or I thought I was. I was so sure a few times that I might lose. And even if I beat them, I still had to escape being hunted by… anyways. Some battles were really close.”

“Little king, Danny,” Pandora said. She reached out and gently turned Danny’s face to look at her. “I cannot believe that they knew that. You have always fought with such vigor and life in all the fights that I have known you for. Perhaps with your skill and quips it was too easy to forget that you are still a very young ghost with a great deal of growing left to do. I will speak with them.”

Danny scrambled to stand as Pandora did, protesting, “No, I don’t want anyone to feel badly or—”

“Perhaps not, but it is something they deserve to know. And you deserve to have answers about their intentions. So I will speak with them, my King.”

“Not your King yet,” Danny said, grumbling to cover up how overwhelmed he felt by Pandora’s care.

“No, but one day you will be and my loyalty is already yours. Come though, for now we eat and go over our training from today to see how else we can improve.”

“Yes, Dora,” Danny said, letting himself be pulled along and putting the discussion behind him for now.

-----

AN: Aaaaand the beta fish part comes in! Hopefully this was decently cohesive! The artic front is doing me in and I sometimes lose words with bad headaches. This brings us to the end of chapter 2. I'd like to get at least one more done and everything rewritten before I start putting it up on Ao3. That might take a little because while I know where I want to get to (and have written some of it) I'm not sure the exact steps I want to take to get there. But it will get figured out I'm sure!

As always, stay delightful my darlings and if you've been caught up in the artic front, stay warm!

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[noturlondonboy]

Your fellow elder ready to prompt you with some Bishova Touching 35

thank you~ 💖

Touching #35- kissing their bruises and scars

——

Kate Bishop was no stranger to bruises. She always had one somewhere, one way or another- her tendency to jump headfirst into danger and challenge every random criminal she met made injury inevitable. If her knuckles weren’t red and swollen, that just meant she hadn’t been training enough. If her cheeks weren’t aching from getting thrown on her face then she wasn’t working hard enough. Pain was a distraction. Pain was constant. Pain was good.

Until she met Yelena.

The woman was a mystery to her- one she wanted to completely uncover. She was mesmerizing, and insane, and stronger than anyone Kate had ever known. It drove her crazy, to see the assassin so close to her and still feel like she knew so little. But they got close, faster than Kate expected. Before she knows it they’re somehow dating, and she’s the luckiest girl in the world. If you asked Yelena, she would say the same.

Kate’s addiction to pain was never unnoticed. Yelena knew how hard she pushed herself, how much she loved the ache in her muscles and the blood on her lip. And it bothered her, but she understood. The want, the need. The pleasure it brought to be so beaten, even in victory. She understood, so she said nothing; just silently patched them both up whenever it was needed.

But she decided that staying silent may have been a mistake the day Kate comes home inches from death.

The archer is barely conscious, bleeding from her head and mouth and cradling a broken wrist to her chest. Her shoulder looks dislocated. There’s a bullet wound in her thigh. Yelena can see gashes and rips in her suit and skin, dark, painful bruises blooming over her taut stomach.

She wants to scream and cry and kill whoever did this to her Hawkeye.

Kate is different after that. Quieter. Timid. Reluctant to go on patrol, hesitant to accept missions. Yelena sees it all, and it breaks her heart in two. She starts taking whatever position Kate was supposed to have, willingly going out with Barton to take down street level crime. Kate isn’t well. She can be good for her. She can DO good for her.

The first time they get close to having sex after Kate heals up, the archer stops her, tears in her eyes and heart beating with anxiety.

“My darling, what is it?” Yelena says gently, cradling her lover close.

Kate can only cry for several minutes, but eventually she curls into Yelena’s warmth. She mumbles something, and Yelena leans closer, asking her to repeat it. “I don’t feel… pretty- anymore,” Kate chokes out, her face pressed into Yelena’s neck.

Something hot flares in the assassin’s gut, and she pulls away to cradle Kate’s cheeks. “Malen’kiy yastreb…” she whispers, waiting for Kate to meet her eyes. “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever been given the honor to lay eyes on.”

Kate stares at her for a moment, lips trembling. “But I’m… I’m broken. My body is… disgusting. The scars, the- the bruises that never go away.”

Yelena shakes her head so hard it nearly makes her dizzy, and she kisses Kate insistently. “Those scars are proof of your strength, your loyalty, your fight, your power.” She's moving back down Kate’s body, marveling at the marred skin underneath her lips as she kisses and nips softly at the scars that her Artemis hates so much. “These are beautiful. You are so beautiful. You are my everything.”

Kate is sobbing quietly, watching Yelena with so much love swelling in her chest she swears she could burst. The blonde explores her body softly, carefully, as if it’s the first time she’s ever seen it. Her fingers trace over the map of pain on Kate’s skin, turning it into love and adoration.

“Kate Bishop, you are perfection,” Yelena murmurs, her lips so warm and so soft as they worship the long, jagged lines over her ribs. “You are nothing but ethereal.”

And Kate thinks that if that’s how Yelena sees her, maybe she can try to look at herself that way too.

[gatitties]

Hello, i have a request!

What would strawhats, heart pirates, kid pirates, whitebeard pirates and revolutionary army react to the (old or young teenager) therapist! gn! reader is casually talking about the trauma of his past but their personality is loyal, innocent, silly, and positive. They were casually swearing but they didn't realize. They're not mad at enemies, who's trying to threaten them but they roast them about it. They had a lot of scars of their belly but they're okay with it.

Sorry, if it makes you uncomfortable, don't write this.

─Strawhats, Heart Pirates, Kid Pirates, Whitebeard Pirates & Revolutionary Army x therapist!gn!reader

─Summary: It's always good to have someone you can turn to for mental healing.

─Warnings: none

— They don't really know how to react when you do that thing of telling your traumas in the middle of a battle, Robin and Nami will definitely tell you that you can do it another time.

— You took care to give the necessary importance to the story and your enemies (you completely ignored them or added them to the talk).

— Everyone trusts you as their problem solver, but you always choose the worst moments to give a motivational talk.

— If necessary, you will stop everyone to sit down and talk about each one's problems, you can avoid many unnecessary confrontations thanks to that.

— You're therapist but not a mage, you can't help with some of the nonsense, especially when Luffy makes a meaningless decision.

— If you lose your temper and your mouth starts swearing for whatever reason in the middle of a consult, Sanji will let you know.

— Everyone seems used to it when this happens, your completely threatening and enraged face changes to a peaceful and innocent face, as if you haven't talked about a great trauma.

— At least they appreciate that you are the type who can get something positive out of everything, even in extreme situations, they appreciate that you can see through them to help them.

— You don't need to stop the battle, Law has already done it, he has taken you to a quiet place to talk because he really appreciates your help.

— Poor man with traumas, you don't know how good it is for him to be able to talk to you about Cora and his past.

— Of course he won't admit this out loud, and you won't say anything either, you are a professional in your field and you will take your patients' secrets to the grave.

— Ikkaku finds it adorable how you change from when you're fighting to when you're calm and sane, like you're a different person.

�� Shachi and Penguin are your bodyguards when you get distracted helping someone in the middle of battle, a person's feelings are more important than a stupid battle.

— Due to your power of oratory, you always take charge of persuasion if it is possible to negotiate with enemies since Law prefers to keep a low profile on some occasions.

— Bepo often helps you and you consider him your fluffy assistant.

— Those scars look rough, the story behind it is traumatic and the truth is that they didn't expect you to open up to them like that.

— You have a difficult crew to deal with, Kid won't even bother asking you for help or anything, he's too proud.

— Heat and Wire will be among the first to come to your consult and they didn't expect it to be so beneficial.

— They're not big fans of you starting to talk to your enemies about their overall health when all you have to do is swat them like mosquitoes.

— You'll have a whole insult battle with Kid over this, but at least you're getting him to listen to you for once even if it's not the kind of language you'd like to treat your patients with.

— Killer is disappointed but not surprised by the situation, he didn't expect you to use that kind of foul language being so cultured, but he's not one to criticize either.

— It's definitely not the best crew to deal with, but if they really need it they know you're there to help even if their pride sometimes gets in the way.

— They seriously love you, they never thought that therapy would be so good for them.

— That you share your traumas and tell the stories behind your scars also makes them trust you from the beginning.

— Marco always looks for you to have small talks after a tiring day.

—Thatch and Ace usually come hand in hand and are the ones you interact with the most and the ones who cause you the most problems due to their concerns.

— Although they are never a problem, even if they feel bad in the middle of a fight you will sit down and talk to them (at least you'll sit) while they continue the fight.

— Izo tends to be more reserved like Whitebeard, so it's not as easy to help them, but they still know they can count on you and your loyalty.

— You are usually quite busy since whenever visitors come from different factions, they almost necessarily go to you to seek solace if they have had problems.

— Dragon is a little skeptical at first and doesn't care much that you have opened up for them even showing old battle wounds.

— The others, on the other hand, are grateful for someone who cares about their mental health, especially Sabo when he recovers his memory.

— Maybe after a while Dragon will appreciate the talks you give him, maybe you've opened the shell of him where he keeps his heart.

— Ivankov finds your attitude quite funny when in the middle of a mission you completely change when you see someone in trouble, even if they are an enemy you will offer to help them.

— Koala is always pulling on you if you extend your talks too long, it's okay that you want to help but you have a very important mission to complete and the government is after your head.

— They don't understand how you can be so serious about your work and then be so stupid as to find the slightest thing funny (you laughed because a piece of bread fell out).

— But it's good because you help them cope with the tension of being enemies against the most powerful people in the world, some of the stress or other things have decreased since you managed all their problems and they are grateful.

[sapphic-agent]

Let's Talk About Bakugou's Apology

Jfc, I swear this wasn't meant to be an MHA blog but whatever. Let's get into this.

I wanted to give Bakugou stans the benefit of the doubt. I wanted to think that they would only hype something up if it was groundbreaking. I wanted to believe that Horikoshi was a halfway decent writer and would put actual effort into such a pivotal, revered moment in the series.

I was left sorely disappointed for multiple reasons.

1) A List of Excuses To be completely fair to Bakugou, he does take some accountability which was more than I expected. He does acknowledge that what he did was wrong a few times during his little speech. I have to give him credit for that. However, it's overshadowed by the narrative making sure to stress that it was the people around Bakugou who were at fault for that behavior. Which isn't true because even before he got his quirk, he still treated Izuku like garbage. He gave him the name Deku and acted like he was above everyone way before Izuku was deemed quirkless.

(I'd also like to add that the only thing that literal pre-school teacher said was that Bakugou's quirk could make for a fine hero. He was the one who ran with it and decided that it made him better than everyone and that he would be the best)

There's also the fact that every time he does point out what he did was wrong, there's always some kind of justification behind it. "I did... because I felt..." It undermines what's supposed to be a genuine apology because it's not about Bakugou's feelings, he wasn't the one hurt (more on this later).

2) Timing

So many people have brought this up and they're absolutely right; that was the worst possible time for this to happen. Izuku was injured, starving, and dirty. Not to mention his mental state is practically in shambles. He's been isolating himself for weeks in his attempts to walk a selfless, lonely path. The absolute last thing he needed was this shitty apology.

This was supposed to be an effort for Class 1A to show Izuku that they care about him and to convince him to share his burden and come back to UA with them and rest and heal. Instead that genuine effort is highjacked by Bakugou rambling on about something entirely unrelated. He could have done this during the bath scene or even right after that. Instead, it's shoehorned into Izuku's actual friends trying their best to help him.

Iida's words should have been the final ones. They had enough impact and were way more powerful. There was no reason for Bakugou's apology to be the finishing lines.

3) The Insults

It's wild to me that Bakugou apologized for insulting Izuku... right after purposely insulting Izuku.

This is something that has been detrimental to Bakugou's entire character "redemption". "Oh, he's changing!" Except he's still doing the same shit he's always done. It undermines the entire point of redeeming him.

(I hate to be pro Endeavor in any way, but at least when he decided to change he made the genuine effort to stay that way and didn't relapse into old habits)

Not only did him mocking Izuku do absolutely nothing to change his mind, it's just so shitty to do to someone who's clearly struggling. If you are incapable of showing empathy and kindness at a time like this, shut up and sit down because there's no reason for you to open your mouth. You're not helping, you're only making things worse.

And then he says, "I don't expect this to change things between us." Like bro, that's completely on you. All you have to do is not be a dick and act like your apology actually meant something by refraining from hurling insults at someone who did nothing to deserve it. But even after this apology, he continues to yell at and insult Izuku. Sato and Tokoyami even call him out on this, only it's just played for laughs.

Word to the wise kids, an apology means nothing if just keep repeating your bad behavior.

4) No Autonomy for the Victim

Not once do we get to see what Izuku's thinking. Not once do we ever see things from his point of view.

This moment is entirely about Bakugou. It's only a plot device to develop his character and make him come off better. And Izuku who was the victim gets no attention. He doesn't even get to respond, he just faints by the end of it.

In fact, the closest thing we ever get to an insight into Izuku's feelings is All Might saying that he wouldn't hold what Bakugou did against him. That's such a copout considering a) nothing Izuku did ever indicated he felt that way and b) another person is speaking for him. He doesn't even get to say this himself.

Horikoshi does this consistently. Izuku is never allowed to voice how he feels. We never get to see how things are affecting him. The only time he's ever permitted to show strong emotions is when it's in favor of someone else. You would think that by this point in the story that would be rectified. But no, everything has to be about Bakugou. Not even in his own rescue story can Izuku ever be the center of attention. No, it's all about making Bakugou better.

(Again I hate to be pro Endeavor, but at least Shoto, Fuyumi, and Natsu get to respond to Endeavor's attempts at atonement on their own terms. Natsu is allowed to be angry. Fuyumi gets to make the choice to forgive him. Shoto is allowed to ponder the decision. Both cases are terrible abuse narratives, but at least the Todoroki kids have a say in how they feel and are allowed to express it. Izuku doesn't even get that)

It feels like Izuku isn't even allowed to be a victim in any way, shape, or form. He's just there to prop Bakugou

[luvbugs-blog]

getting saved by...

pairings: tanjiro x reader, inosuke x reader, zenitsu x reader

a/n: there will be a part two... but switched! you saving them!

warnings: POSSIBLE SPOILERS! also mentions of death in inosuke's (reader has to do what tanjiro did to wake up on the mugen train)

part two!

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

tanjiro kamado

you try to brace yourself as you're thrown against a tree. it hurts, but you have to keep going. you think of the bright smile that always inspires you when you need it. the smile of your best friend. you take in a deep breath in, trying to control your total concentration, as you reflect on where you are at, and how you would rather be back at the butterfly mansion with your friends, who haven't finished healing yet.

you lift yourself up just in time to deflect the blood demon art of the spider sister, who almost captured you in her web ball. you fling yourself to the side, and when you jump up, prepared for the next attack, she's gone.

strange. you look around you at all of your surroundings, hoping that she won't pop out from behind the trees. your power, besides your breathing, is in your strength, so unfortunately, you lack any power of being able to sense where your opponent is by smell, audio, or some weird beasty sense thing that inosuke possesses.

you still and close your eyes, trying to focus on listening, when you hear something above you. something isn't right about this.

you are able to jump to the side just as the monster leaps where you were. this thing is massive, with a godawful spider face. not only is it creepy, but it scares you enough that you hide behind a tree, trying to think of a plan. that's when you remember tanjiro again.

last week, the two of you were eating breakfast at the butterfly mansion. you were sitting next to each other, chatting and occasionally laughing at inosuke devouring his onigiri. you turn to focus back on your conversation about tanjrio's "hinokami kagura", and how impressive it is.

"you truly are amazing, tanjiro! not even the hashira can perform two breathing techniques!" you gush, trying to imagine yourself doing the same. "you must feel so powerful!"

tanjiro scratches at his neck, trying to push down the raging blush that had formed on his face. "it's really not that impressive! I'm sure you could do the same if you really tried."

"oh, don't be ridiculous. i'm not near close enough to your level. and don't be modest either! just don't forget about me when you become a hashira," you say, with a little joke at the end.

tanjiro grabs your hands and stares at you a little too intensely. you feel a little startled. "don't say that about yourself! you are an incredible swordsman and i constantly want to be like you."

you blink, unsure what to make of the fervent compliments. you open your mouth, but before you can respond, he continues.

"you inspire me with your strength. you never give up and that is what's truly amazing!" you swear you can see little puffs of steam coming out of his ears.

"uh..."

"so don't underestimate yourself!"

you blink for a moment, trying to find your composure. and you don't know what else to do but laugh.

"well, alright then!" you give him a huge smile and hug him tight. "thank you, tanjiro," you whisper into his ear. he just hugged you tighter to his body. what you missed seeing was the very pointed look given to him by zenitsu.

you brace yourself and make a move from behind the tree, rushing at the creature who was looking for you in the opposite direction. activating your first breathing form, you aim at the giant's arm, hoping to buy some time while he is regenerating. but your sword doesn't cut through. instead, he flings you a couple meters back. you land harshly on the ground, and you wince when you feel your ribs crack. you take a deep breath in, desperately hoping for an idea to get you out of this mess.

the monster roars, destroying trees in his path as he searches for you. "LEAVE MY FAMILY ALONE."

some hell of a family, you think, as you roll out of the way to escape a tree from crushing you. you rush at the monster again, this time aiming for his neck with your sixth breathing form, but to no avail. your sword still doesn't go through.

you can see the monster's hand coming towards you. you're going to die. there's no way you can move out of the way without breaking your sword, and you won't be able to survive without it. think! you desperately rack your brain for ideas, but it's too late.

you close your eyes as the hand comes to you, but you never feel the impact. you quickly open your eyes to see a checkered haori blocking the monster's head.

"tanjiro!"

"y/n! i was so worried when we arrived and saw all of the bodies!" the hand shakes the two of you off, and tanjiro holds you close as you both fall to the ground. he's quick to jump to his feet, but you're still a little sore from your earlier exchanges with the tree. he gives you a charming smile as he helps you off the ground. "i'm so glad you are alright."

you jump up to give him a tight hug, trying to fight off the nerves of your near-death experience.

"gonpachiro! are you going to help me out or keep flirting?" you cough as he glances over at inosuke trying to saw his way through the monster's arm.

before you can react, he presses a quick kiss to your forehead before running to help. "stay alive, ok!" he yells, "i have to confess something after the battle!"

you allow yourself one bashful smile before lunging into the fight, helping your future bf and one weird boar.

inosuke hashibira

you gasp for air as you're being held down by the neck by the train's appendage. you try to break free, but your sword is just out of reach and the tentacle thing is just too slimy to really grab hold of it. with one hand, you try to free your neck, and with the other hand, you strain for your sword. the appendage lifts you a bit and slams you back down, making something in your arm snap. you try to scream, but nothing comes out. your vision starts getting a little blurry, and black starts creeping around the edges.

what should you do? before you can do anything, a big eye pops out and blinks at you.

when you open your eyes, you have to adjust, because it suddenly got very bright. you sit up off the ground, looking around for the train, but you don't see anything. you do recognize this dirt path you are on though.

you lift yourself up and start along the path until you come across... the butterfly mansion? something wasn't right. you were supposed to be helping tanjiro and inosuke with the train demon.

just then you heard a cackle coming from inside the building. how is inosuke here? you also heard a scream coming from the inside. you sprint to the sound, and throw the doors open to see your little sibling cowering behind your parents, who were in a protective stance and looking up at the ceiling. on the ceiling was inosuke, crawling around like a weirdo.

"mom? dad?" how were they here? their deaths were the reason you became a demon slayer in the first place. tears start pouring down your cheeks as you run towards your beloved family. you stay there, hugging them for what seems like hours. your parents were very confused, but accepted the affection nontheless. your sibling was giggling at how stupid you looked, but you could care less, because at least they were alive.

maybe this whole slayer thing was just a bad dream. BAM. you jerk your head to see inosuke had come down from the ceiling. how did you forget? so the slayer thing was not just a dream. so what the hell is happening?

inosuke walks up to you and grabs your hand. "come on, y/n! let's go train." he walks you outside and into the woods.

"inosuke, i think something is wrong. we were fighting a demon and then we ended up back here. do you know anything?" he steps back and lifts his mask up, letting it fall to the ground.

"what the hell are you talking about?" he starts towards you, backing you into a tree. you put your hands to his chest, looking into his eyes.

"this is not the time to fight right now! i'm being serious-" you are silenced when he puts his finger to your lips, cocks his head and looks at you.

"the fuck are you yappin' about? you know the training thing is just a ruse." he puts his hands on your side and squeezes, making you gasp. he lays his head into the crook of your neck and gives you a small little bite, in which you grab onto his shoulders in shock. "we do this all the time."

Y/N!

you push inosuke back and look around. you grab onto his shoulder and gently shake it.

"didn't you hear that?" he just snorts. "hear what?"

Y/N!

"there it is again! someone is calling my name!" inosuke shakes his head and pushes against you once more, arms circling your waist. he starts to leave kisses up your neck, which causes you to let out a little whine. this was a little dream of yours that you kept a secret so no one would find out about your little crush.

pause.

A DREAM! of course!

"i've got to get out of here." inosuke lifts his head up.

"what?"

"you don't understand. this is a dream! the real you needs me right now." you run around the woods, searching for the demon that put you to sleep. if you kill it, you might be able to get out. how else would you wake up?

you slow to a stop, realizing the demon isn't in the dream with you. dream inosuke pokes your back. "what are you doing?"

you turn to him, unsure of what you're about to do. you reach to his waist and grab one of his swords.

"i'm sorry." you whisper, terrified. you bring the sword up to your neck. what if you're wrong? what if there are repercussions from the dream in reality. what if you actually died?

you push your hand up again the blade, ready, when a hand grabs your wrist. you look up into his beautiful face, which looked miserable.

"don't you want to be with me?" you almost drop the sword from your neck. you raise your hand to dream inosuke's face.

"it's all i've ever wanted, since we met. that's why i have to do this. to be with the real you." you pull your wrist free and scream, and with a twist of the blade, everything goes dark.

you wake up and take a deep breath. you can feel the wind from the roof of the train, and you realize it worked. you look over to see the appendage that was holding you wither into dust on the ground.

"you done taking your little nap? we got a demon to kill!" you smile at the taunting voice coming from behind you. you turn and jump into his arms.

"h-hey!" you lift his mask to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"thank you for waking me up," you say, before running off to where tanjiro was calling your name. inosuke follows behind you, very glad the mask is covering the redness of his face.

zenitsu agatsuma

there is no way you are making it out of this one alive, unless you hear the drum again. there are two demons making their way to you in this moving house. you aren't skilled enough to taken on two demons by yourself. so you are holding out that the drum will beat again soon, so that the rooms will shift. the first demon crawls closer and lashes it's tongue at you. you swipe at it, and the tip falls off, spraying blood over your uniform. while the first demon sprawls backwards in pain, the second lunges at you, and just as you swing your sword at it's neck, the drum shifts the rooms around.

you fall through the air in this new room, but land on something solid. you look down to see zenitsu under you.

"oh my goodness!" you hug him tight, thankful to see his face instead of another demon. while you're too busy with your relief, he's focused on your legs on either side of his waist. pervert.

his euphoria ends quickly, however, when you hoist yourself up and introduce yourself to the kid he is with. shoichi, the little boy, is so relieved that another slayer joined them, so he didn't have to put up with zenitsu's tantrums by himself.

while he is introducing himself, zenitsu sits up and screams. you turn, shielding the boy behind you, when you spot the tongue demon making it's way toward the three of you.

you all run to the nearest room and while you hope for another drum, you know you won't be so lucky this time, so you focus your attention on the door, hoping to be able to ambush the demon when he enters the room.

"no, no, no, no, no. please wake up." you turn to see zenitsu passed out on the floor.

"shoichi, i need you to get him to the wall if you can." then you turn your attention to the approaching demon, whose tongue had already regenerated. the tongue lashes out at you once more, but faster this time. you knew you wouldn't have time to cut it off, so you settle for deflecting it.

but the force of his tongue was too strong, and you were thrown backwards, hitting the wall and roughly falling to the ground. you crawl back over to zenitsu and shoichi, praying the drum sounds again.

you go to stand up to face the demon again when a soft hand pushes you back. you look up to see zenitsu and are surprised. wasn't he just passed out?

you see him get into position and hear a faint, "thunder breathing, first form". you blink and the demon is dead.

zenitsu sways for a second before falling back to the ground. you rush over to make sure he's ok to discover he's... STILL ASLEEP?

he jerks awake and squeals when he see's the demon's body disintegrating. he latches onto your torso and shamelessly hides his face into your skin.

"y/n-chaaaaan, you saved me! thank you thank you thank you!"

you look over at shoichi who just shrugs. with a small laugh, you lean over and press a kiss to zenitsu's head.

"let's try to get out of here, yeah?"

"AHHH y/n-chaaaaaan! let's get married!"

a/n: SORRRRRY i am so tired and so i rushed zenitsu's, but i hope it's still good! i'll try to finish the part two tomorrow (with a special surprise drabble!)

[zweetpea]

Freedom or Anarchy? Part 2 of 2

Cw: cringe, swears, innuendos. Mondstadt arc has concluded. Next chapter will hopefully be out by Monday. (Expect Monday or Tuesday)

‘Where am I?’

‘What happened to me?’

‘I wanna go home!’

“Time to get up.” You hear someone call. The voice sounds familiar, deep and most likely male (you don’t want to assume). 

You open your eyes and see blue. You’re still groggy from Albedo’s tea so you can’t really stand. Someone picks you up, supporting you under your legs and you back. 

‘Hang on, if this is Mondstadt… the only man with blue here is.’ “Kae…ya?” You say groggily. 

“She speaks… or are you a he? Hard to tell.” He sets you down on a couch in an office.

“This is the terrorist Albedo gave us?” Lisa asks. You can’t quite move but you aren’t as tired as before. 

“We’ll have to tie… him? Her? …Ah up! Tie up the terrorist.” Jean says. 

“Them… I’m gender fluid. I go by them. Sometimes I’m a he, sometimes I’m a she. But my pronouns are always them.”

“Well, at least we’re getting answers.” Lisa giggles. 

You say as Kaeya binds your wrists and ankles with rope. You lean forward onto him and whisper to only him. “Tighter, daddy~” 

“Sky, where did you say that Light and Paimon ran off to?” Kaeya asks, embarrassed and blushing. 

“We’ve met Barbatos, they went off to find him.” Aether says. That’s right, the twins didn’t tell anybody their real names. 

“We’re back! And we’ve brought a friend!” Paimon cheers. 

“Obviously this goes without saying but no one can mention this man’s true identity, okay.” Jean states with a harsh tone that you’ve never heard from her before. Everyone nods, except for you. 

Venti walks towards you and you look at him. “Are you the one Celestia fears?” 

“I have no idea what that means.” 

“The descender, the honored one, the adored one. Do any of these names ring a bell?” 

“No?” 

“Do not lie to me! Albedo said-” 

“Why the F you lyin’~ why you always lyin’~” 

“…” 

“Sorry I have a tendency to reference memes and vines. I’m Gen Z, it’s a part of who we are. I’m kidding, I think that’s just me.” 

“So the Adored One has a name, Jen.”

“No that’s-” 

“And these “Me-ms” and “vines” must be your sacred texts! You’re a nature spirit aren’t you!”

“No! And for the record I don’t think you are a god!” 

“Wow, the honored one looks down upon me.” 

“Boys, Girls, and squirrels, listen up! Because I’ll only say this once. I’m not from this world. I want to go home. The world I come from none of you are real.” 

“Honored one, saying “Boys, Girls, and squirrels” doesn’t help your claim that you aren’t a nature spirit.” 

“Oh for Shucks sake. Actually can I swear in here? I don’t think so. Hell! Bullshit! Kaeya’s tight Ass! Lisa’s big boobies! Mmhmm boobies~” you start to laugh maniacally. “I need to be put in a mental hospital.” 

“Oh for the love of-” Lumine cuts herself off and goes up to you then shakes your. “Pull yourself together long enough for us to get answers.” 

“Right, right. I’m just a college kid who majored in computer science and engineering. The world I come from you all are a game and I hacked into your code which brought me here. That “Boys, Girls, and squirrels” comment comes from a YouTuber I watch semi frequently.”

(A/n: Danny Motta is his name. He’s pretty funny. Go check him out) 

“How’d you heal Stormterror then.” Aether asked. 

“The sustainer of heavenly principles gave me her powers.” 

“So… none of us are real?” Amber asks. 

“Well, I don’t know how I’d be here if you guys weren’t real but to me you’re just a game. Any of you can be killed and revived at the Statue of the Seven.” 

“I suppose that does poke holes in my credibility as an archon.” Venti twiddles his thumbs. 

“Can I please leave now? I can take Dvalin with me and we can just leave.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. If Stormterror is still enraged we can’t let him destroy other nations. It could spark an all out war.” Jean says. 

“What if we let them stay at that broken down building?” Aether suggests. 

“I still think that we should keep Jen here just in case Stormterror gets any more ideas about attacking Mondstadt.” 

“So we use Jen as a bargaining chip?” Lumine chimes in. 

“Exactly.” 

“Okay if you guys are going to call me Jen can you at least make it Gen with a G? I want to be different.” 

“But Jean! Isn’t that basically asking Stormterror for a fight?” 

“Amber’s right Jean. If we’re going to keep them here we’ll need a plan to tame Stormterror.” Lisa says. 

“I’ll tame him.” Venti says assuredly. “We just have to keep them here long enough for me to calm him down.” 

“BARBATOS!” Dvalin calls from outside. “GIVE ME BACK WHATS MINE!” 

“Everyone! To your stations! Protect the city at all costs!” Jean shouts and everyone rushes from the room. 

“Shit! I have to get out of here!” 

“Master Jean! I’m scared!” Klee runs into the office. 

“Klee! Perfect timing, I’m your brother’s friend.”

“Your big brother Albedo’s friend? Why are you tied up?” 

“It’s a long story. Right now I need you to untie me so I can save everyone.” 

“You can do that? I don’t know, usually only bad people are tied up.” 

“No no! Klee it’s more complicated. You want to save Albedo and Jean and Kaeya, Lisa, Amber, Razor and everyone else right? Then you have to untie me so I can make Stormterror go away.” 

“How do I know that you aren’t lying?” 

‘If gold knows me. Chances are Alice will too.’ “Your mom knows me. I’m the adored one. You can ask her about me.” 

“Mom knows you?”

“Yeah, and you know about Albedos secret lab in the mountains right? I’ve been there. He told me about how much he cared about you.” 

“You’ve gone there?! You really do know Albedo. Okay!” She comes over and unties you. 

“Thanks.” You go over to the window, open it up and shout. “Dvalin!” He comes rushing to you at your cry and you jump out the window and grab onto his tail. 

He flies towards the woods and you land in a stone arena. “Andrius! I need a favor.” 

“What could the East Wind possibly want from me?” 

“Protect the Adored one at all costs. 

“How can this puny human be the Adored one?”

As the two bicker you quietly sneak away. As you climb out of the arena you stop when you see black boots and look up. 

“Who are you.” Diluc looks down at you. 

“I am iron man.” 

“Iron man?” Dvalin roses as he and Andrius start to brawl. 

“Can you get me out of here?” 

“Are you the one rumored to have healed Stormterror?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Come on.” He grabs your arm and hoists you up. He then picks you up and throws you over his shoulder and starts to run. 

“Hey! Am I just a sack of potatoes to you?” 

“Quiet down or they’ll hear us.” He runs and runs until you two get to a water bank. “Follow this past west and you’ll be in Liyue.” He tells you as he sets you down. 

“Oh wow. My own dark knight. How romantic. Well for saving the fair ward of the dragon you get a kiss, as a reward.” 

“No thank you.” He grimaces at you. 

“Oh come on! I was promised debauchery! You’re no fun.” 

“Just leave.” 

“Thanks for saving me! I’m coming back for that kiss though!” You say as you run off. 

‘Hot dragon archon here I come! Please be like a lizard and have two co-‘

[anarchiii]

The Shadowsinger’s lover-3 —ACOTAR AU

Part three | warnings: fluff, language, little bit of angst, | Azriel x Rhys!sister

Summary; Rhys’ sister comes home, finally, and the the new members of the inner circle are surprised to learn that she (we are gonna call her ‘Selene’) and Azriel are Mates and have been for over two hundred years.

Note; this is an AU it’s not in the books.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Selene’s POV

“Why do I have to meet them? I don’t want to” She groaned, Rhys wanted her to meet his mate’s sisters, “sel, they are apart of your family, you need to meet them. Do it for me. Please? I’ll let you hold Nyx.” Her brother pleaded. “Fine” “thank you!” He gave her a rib-crushing hug in return. she was only doing this for her nephew, not him, screw her brother. Besides, she didn’t particularly want to meet the second oldest Archeron, Elain. Azriel had told her about the sweet faced girl. And her little crush on her mate. She didn’t trust anyone that seemed to nice or friendly, they always turned out to be the most dangerous, she’d learned that from experience.

“Get off me, you brute” Selene hissed when he hadn’t let go in fifteen seconds, ten seconds was an acceptable amount of time for a hug, he needed to learn that, Rhys muttered a curse under his breath at her. She was feeling merciful today so she didn’t whoop his ass. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t fight him later, prick. “I’m going to ignore the insults you-oh-so-love to say to me.”

“I’m just telling the truth, mother always said that you should never lie, I’m doing what she told me.” She said while batting her lashes at him. He may know how to rile her up but she damn well knew how to do it to him as-well. She saw a muscle flicker in his jaw, that told her that it was working, “don’t use mother’s words against me, Selene. I don’t appreciate it.”

She saw raw, unfiltered power flicker in his eyes, and for a second, she felt fear course through her body. She sometimes forgot how powerful her brother was and how he only needed to snap his fingers and she’d be dead, not to mention that his entire inner circle was made up of lethal warriors—perhaps even Elain—that would do anything the high lord asked of them, he could obliterate the House of Wind and the surrounding mountains without losing a fraction of his powers. A chill ran down Selene’s spine at the fact. Maybe she shouldn’t mess with him, not right now, later perhaps.

“That’s what I thought” Rhys glared at her, she glared right back. Her knuckles turned white from clenching them so hard. She really. Really, wanted to punch him right now, but she couldn’t. She wanted to see her nephew, “your safe for now. You lucky bastard.” “Yeah yeah,”

Her brother smirked, he put a hand around her waist and the other on the back of her knees, she hated this part of flying, when anyone that wasn’t Azriel had to fly her, she didn’t like anyone else touching her—especially not her brother. For obvious reasons.

“Okay, hold on.” Rhys said, that smirk still plastered on his face.

“I swear to the gods, Rhys, if you drop—”

He jumped off the balcony and took off fast, the air whipping at her face making her unable to talk, she had to shut her eyes because the wind was making them leak with her tears. Selene grabbed her brother’s collar hard. She really, really, didn’t want him to drop her, she’s come to hate flying, it brought back to many memories of when she could fly. She didn’t often think about what had happened so many years ago. Sometimes she could still feel the weight of those beautiful ebony wings, everyone apart from Azriel thought the scars on her back had been healed. In reality. They were shielded away from sight with a glamour that was up at all times, the only times the shield was down was when she was alone with her mate, even then, Selene didn’t let him touch the scars too long.

Selene tried not to stare to long at the others wings, because then they’d look at her with that same pitiful expression, Rhys’ would be full of guilt and pain—like he could’ve stopped what had happened. She shuddered at the thoughts.

Rhys looked down at her, violet eyes met hers, they softened, “stop that.” Selene said, “people will think you aren’t as dangerous as everyone makes you out to be, you can’t have that happen. Now. Can you?”

“No” he answered back, “I suppose I can’t” she nodded her head in agreement, she looked down at the city that was growing in size the closer they got to it. Velaris was beautiful. Yes, there was no denying that but, she had seen and explored every nook and cranny of the city, she was growing bored of it. Velaris had never been her home. she’d always known that, she wanted to go somewhere new, a place where no one knew her name. A place where the citizens wouldn’t fear Azriel. A place where they could raise their children and not constantly worry that someone—or something—would want to harm them, but she couldn’t do that, this was her mate’s home, this where her brother and his family were. Gods forbid she leave and get a letter saying they had been killed. she couldn’t bear to lose another one of her family because she was selfish.

It was her fault Selene and her mother were going to go see Rhysand, she had begged and begged to see him, she’d missed him horribly, they were never apart when they were younger. She didn’t want him to grow up and be high lord. Rhys had never wanted to be in that position, she’s lucky her father never saw fit to betroth her.

And just like that, they were landing in-front of Rhys’ townhouse, her brother gently lowered her down until her feet touched the plush grass, he clapped her on the back before saying. “I can’t wait for you to meet them. You’ll love them, I promise,” he then guided her into the grand house, the interior was nice—clearly someone knew what they were doing, paintings were hung up all over the walls. The smell of flowers greeted her nose along with the smell of fresh bread. You could tell someone actually lived here. She could appreciate that, they walked through a room and they were then in a lounge, there were blankets and pillows everywhere, the crackling of the nearby fire met her ears. Cassian and the sharp-faced female were on one of the many chairs. The general had an arm around the woman’s shoulder—that was odd—he smiled when he saw her.

“My friends” he started, “I’d love for you to meet my mate, Nesta, Nesta this is my dearest friend—and sister. Selene. She is Rhys’ sister,” he gestured to her, the female—Nesta, smiled at her slightly before tucking herself into her mate’s chest. She wanted to be friends with her. She knew that much.

In the corner of her eye she saw Rhys’ mate coke around the corner, a babe in her arms—her nephew, finally, Feyre pecked her brother’s lips before turning her gaze to her. There was a certain sparkle that was in her eyes. As if the Sidra was a person, that’s what she looked like, her nephew squealed when he spotted her, that brought a rare smile to her face—one that didn’t go unnoticed by Rhysand, Feyre gently placed Nyx into her arms. He immediately latched his little arms around her and buried his face in her chest. She’d never been good with kids so this was a surprise, “oh my, I don’t think I’ve ever seen little Nyx get so attached to someone so quickly, poor Amren is going to be devastated when she finds out Nyx has a new favourite” she said giggling, Selene could tell why her brother had so easily fallen in love with her, it was impossible not too.

Feyre and Selene exchanged introductions eventually, them both getting on well with each other, surprisingly, that fact had Rhys smiling.

Just when things were getting good, another soul breezed into the room wearing a floral-pink dress and a bright smile—probably Elain, she was glad her mate wasn’t there, she didn’t particularly feel like having to pull the girl off of him. “Hi! You must be Rhysand’s friend, so nice to finally meet you!” Her voice was like honey. Dripping from her mouth, it was a wonder why she wasn’t residing in Spring or Day instead of Night, she was too sweet for this place, she was too sweet for Azriel, why she had rejected the mating bond too Lucien Vanserra she didn’t know.

Lucien was a good male, she had met him a few times, and on each of those occasions he had been nothing but polite and friendly, hopefully the reason for not accepting the bond was not because of the male she shared a bed with. “Actually.” Her brother said with a strained smile, “this is my sister, Elain, and I’d hope you’ll respect her as I would not like to hear that you are not,”

The middle Archeron’s eyes momentarily flickered to the high lord, annoyance clearly visible on her face, Feyre sighed, the youngest Archeron plucked her son from Selene’s arms. The babe started tearing up at the loss of contact. She wouldn’t admit it but she too, wanted to keep holding the boy, she’d always loved kids but they had never seemed to reciprocate the same affection, children was a bit of a touchy subject for her and Azriel so she rarely brought it up, though she did hope one day she would have the gift of bearing his children. Even if it would most certainly not be any time soon.

“Well, I’d love to get to know you more, Selene, but I have to go to the bakery, buh-bye now!” She said before turning on her heels and skipping her way out of the room. “I’ll have to go to. Sadly. I have to put little Nyxie to bed before he starts fussing,” she waved at her before leaving the room.

She’d barely met Elain and yet she already desperately needed some good wine, apparently Nesta sensed that because she pulled out a fresh bottle from the nearby liquor cabinet, Selene chuckled and grabbed a glass before plopping onto the lounge next to Nesta.

-

When she walked through the doors to their shared bedroom she immediately spotted her mate hunched over his desk, papers strewn across its mahogany surface, his hair was messy from what looked like fingers running through it, she walked up behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. Rubbing circles into the scarred skin. Undoing tight knots, Azriel sighed and threw his head back into her chest, she ran her fingers through his hair causing him to purr like a cat. “How did it go?” He whispered. “I suppose it went alright, Elain was an absolute joy to meet, I like Nesta, she’s nice” he laughed in response, “I’m sorry you had to deal with her. I’m proud of you that you managed to keep your cool.”

She leaned over him and kissed him forehead, that made him get up and lay her down on the bed, peppering her everywhere with sweet gentle kisses.

They were soon under the covers with their body as close as it could be, her face was buried in the crook of his neck, she heard his breathing become calmer. Its rhythm one she could fall asleep to anywhere. “Hey, Az?”

“Yeah?”

…

“Have you ever thought about having kids?”

The End.

Note: did you notice the reference to the song ‘too sweet’ by Hozier? I love the song, it’s not often I like songs that are recently made but this is truly one of a kind.🤍

-Taglist;

@daycourtofficial

@illyrianbitch

@milswrites

@itsswritten

@azrielslittleslut

@utterlyotterlyx

@thehighladywrites

@flickering-chandelier

[originallandlockedmariner]

I’m nothing special.

I’m just flawed and weak as the next person. I let my emotions get the best of me at times. I’m not perfect. I read old messages looking for clues. I listen to old playlists of sad songs when I’m sad. I swear too much. Drink too much. I can be selfish and impatient. I’m a sarcastic asshole for alarmingly long periods of the day. I regret choices I’ve made, words I’ve said in anger, people I’ve let down. I’m no role model. Wow, there’s an understatement. But every day I own my shit. I’m accountable and humble. Every day, I try to just be a little bit better than yesterday. Becoming who you are is a life long journey, baby step after setback after stumble after lesson learned. Forever forward. Green and growing as they say.

I wake up and look at those four framed sentences. “Be impeccable with your word. Don’t take anything personally. Don’t make assumptions. Always do your best.” Simple and yet powerful.

Every day, I’m trying to see things differently. Gain perspective. Embrace not taking every single thing personally. Getting cut off in traffic, not personal. Waiting forever in line for coffee, not personal. It is an uphill climb getting comfortable with the concept that nothing others’ do is directly because of you or to upset you. People do what they do because of themselves. That’s it. Even when they treat you awfully or take you for granted, it has more to do with what’s going on with them than you. *insert lecture about Attribution Error.

As for assumptions, I kinda have a PhD in that field. Never met a situation, never had a conversation, never waited for a text, that I couldn’t attach an assumption to. Assumptions are generally born from misunderstanding and a fear of asking questions. Fear of what might be said. We lack courage to inquire so instead we stand back and fill the void with the worst. Draw from our past pain and create a narrative. I’m trying to break that cycle. Ask more questions. Communicate. Be clear and upfront. I can no longer assume others know what I mean or want and then get upset when they don’t act accordingly. It’s unfair to them and only serves to hurt me in the process.

I’m making integrity part of my daily practice. Speaking with integrity. Actions with integrity. And above all, avoiding the trappings of believing my own landslide of bullshit, being my own worst enemy, and justifying every blunder. Be better. Sidestep gossip and small talk. Apologize when you hurt someone. Accept that you’ll be wrong sometimes. Or in my case, a lot. Do what you say you’ll do. Character isn’t built upon what you said you’d do, but what you rolled up your sleeves and actually did.

As for always doing my best, I’m still figuring out what that animal looks like. I strive to be helpful, but sometimes when you’re always available, they take you for granted, not because they are selfish or unkind, but because they think you’ll always stay. Let them miss you for a while. This goes against everything I am but makes sense. I’ve also learned that there is no shame in being broken and anxious and sad. Be whatever you are right now. No need to make excuses or try to minimize the hurt, deny the confusion. You cannot learn about yourself if at first you aren’t frustrated and confused, the hard questions are born from this. You cannot heal without first being damaged. So be broken and anxious and sad. Cope however you need to; as long as you need to, for there is no instruction manual for this, we all make it up as we go along. Day by day and more often, minute by minute. So as for my best, I guess it is just knowing that when I put my head on the pillow, I gave all that I could, was kinder than I needed to be, inspired a few, and made sure the garage door is closed.

I’m nothing special. But I didn’t lose my shit on the drive into work, didn’t assume sporadic texts were anything but a busy day, and a couple people told me that they are grateful for me - so I’m gonna just go ahead and chalk today up as a win.

@originallandlockedmariner

[critter-genfic-events]

This week, we have eight fics that focus on Orym of the Air Ashari. We have hurt, we have comfort, and quite a number of very meaningful conversations to be had - Poor Orym does have his hands full! So check them out under the cut, and as always - comment and kudos if you like them!

I'm a sick kind of lover and I'm cruel to myself by teeslover (3898,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:

Orym has never been able to feel pain. Consequences of that in early campaign

Reccer says: I liked it

It Doesn't Always Have to Hurt by Samuraiko (451,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Orym/Ashton

Pain is a constant for them both. They both know it, they both draw strength from it, they're both used to it. But that doesn't mean they have to like it... and even if they can't heal their own, maybe they can ease each other's.

Reccer says: I liked it

Intrusive Thoughts by teeslover (2519,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Bor'Dor Dog'Son & Orym

Confronted by a once-ally in a dream, Orym talks through some things.

Reccer says: I love this confrontation and this take, and the amount of questioning it allows Orym to have. Plus a great Fearne and Orym moment!

When I Fall, I Fall by awaytobeunshaken (1438,Teen) Warnings: Pairings: Ashton Greymoore & Orym

Orym is tired of watching the people he cares for die. Watching them almost die isn't much better. Watching Ashton do it on purpose, well, he's not really sure how to express how that made him feel.

Reccer says: A much needed argument between Orym and Ashton, I've decided to assume this is canon

Hearth by bookjoyworm (1777,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Fearne & Orym

Fearne took the shard, but that doesn't mean she's no longer worried about it. Orym's worried too, but not for quite the same reasons. They take advantage of a safe night's rest to talk.

Reccer says: I love these two together, and the acknowledgement of the history they have and how that helps soothe Fearne's fears

Care by justabrain (555,General) Warnings: Contains a panic attack (also Ashton-typical swearing) Pairings: Orym & Ashton

They’re on the moon, and Ashton is, quietly, having a fucking panic attack. | Orym helps Ashton through a panic attack.

Reccer says: I just think they should have a second to process and talk, and this fic lets them do that!

What Grows From The Heart Is All The Stronger by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink) (1340,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Fearne Calloway & Orym

All seeds need good soil in which to grow. Orym, after the deal with Nana Morri

Reccer says: It's incredibly atmospheric - I love this take on Orym and his fey powers

An undefined ache by Threadcounting (1522,Teen) Warnings: Angst, hurt no comfort Pairings: Fearne Calloway & Orym

After Vasselheim, Orym

Reccer says: SUCH a concept. I love it and it's horrifying and it works so well with canon. OMG.

This is one of our weekly communally-generated gen rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. Please note that the summary and content notes are provided by the reccer, and may be different than what the author has provided. Please assume good intentions all around. <3

And hey, anyone includes you!

We'll be back on the fifteenth with horror fics, then October 1st will have fics focusing on Taryon Darrington, followed by Alternate Meetings!

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit! If you're looking for some more, check out some fics written in the critter genfic bingo tag, or the older rec lists! Or you can request your own card and join in on the fun!