#am i that pathetic that people only try to talk to me to make sure im stable

[yourwhumppromptoftheday]

Hello! My whumper is a demon king named castor, and my whumpee is named Quinn, although they aren’t truly mine so I won’t be doing the whumpee part

1. Acquiring whumpee-oh, it was quite easy. I put a tracker on a rebel and watched them go to their little base. We had a little raid, and I took them.

2. Choosing whumpee-It was clear they were the leader. Everyone panicked when I grabbed them, so I knew they were valuable.

3. Keeping whumpee-I know that they’re strong, and I can use that. I give them freedom but I can’t let them go until they tell me where my son is. I must find him.

4. Legality-Ahahhhaa! I make the laws, I can’t break them. The authorities have no right to stop me. If you’re concerned, however, section 3 paragraph 24 clause eight says that rebels do not have the right to try and stop any punishment. I’m fine

5. Open-ness-Well, I don’t parade them around, but a few of my advisors know that they exist.

6. Quinn has a very comfortable room in the castle, they’ve progressed enough to move out the cell. Even if the room locks on the outside

7. The entire castle is my “workplace” but I don’t bring them to most important decisions.

8. Quinn is quite confusing. They’re a rebel, and a terrible liar.

9. While I certainly don’t think of Quinn that way..their hair is nice. If I were ever going to kill them, I’d scalp them and keep it as a wig.

10. Quinn is mostly obedient, and they’ve come a long way. They used to spit on me and just spout insults all day.

11. I don’t have many rules. Dont leave, dont attack the guards, and dont roam without Alex, me, or a guard.

12. Oh, I bring out the good-ol whip. Always works.

13. I’ve tortured many people before. I won’t say that I’ve tortured Quinn. I’m just conditioning them. With others, I don’t let them rest. I’m being quite nice to Quinn here, they haven’t gotten their limbs removed in weeks!

14. Oh, I’d have to say I love skinning. My healer, Alex, is wonderful at fastly healing someone so I can do it all over again! It’s quite effective.

15. Quinns treats is being able to see their family, having a beautiful room, and being let outside. They’ve behaved enough to deserve these:

16. Possessive? I don’t care. Although I wouldn’t like anyone trying to take them..

17. A few pathetic escape attempts were made when they first got here. You know, darting through doors and sprinting down halls. I just drag them back.

18. Oh, when I got their family involved they certainly broke. They pretended to not care until I brought their little brother up. Oh, how they cried!

19. Their mine now. My soldier. They don’t belong to anyone else.

20. They can move about the castle and very soon, outside, as long as they have a chaperone.

21. Of course I’m doing the right thing! They’re a fucking rebel, what am I supposed to do, give them a cookie? I’ve never felt remorse.

22. I’d have them executed.

23. Alex, my medic, checks up on Quinn often. Healthy as a horse.

24. You have to find out what they care about. What they love. Then you exploit that.

25. I’ve certainly helped them learn that nobody is on their side. Nobody has tried to save them, and I make sure to let them know.

26. My guards are allowed to handle Quinn, and so is Alex. That’s about it.

27. Well, of course I allow them to talk. It helps me get information. Anyone can talk to them.

28. Boundaries are for nerds.

29. I’ve only known of Quinn through rumors before I got them.

30. Quinn gets quite good meals. When they first came here, I did “starve” them, but I never actually do it. I need them in top shape. I only give them the sensation of starving. It wasn’t effective, so I stopped.

31. I use them for information. As the rebel leader, they are also quite effective propaganda.

32. My ownership of Quinn shows the rebels that nobody is safe. That I am coming.

33. I don’t feel anything when I hurt Quinn. I get satisfaction when they tell me what I need to know, and that’s it.

34. Skip!

35. I used to have to restrain them as they got quite violent, but I don’t anymore. Locking them up in a room is enough. They do try and kill themself, but it’s not often enough I have to worry.

36. They’re just..so stubborn. Thats one thing I’ve tried to beat out of them.

37. They wear whatever’s in their wardrobe. I don’t stock it, I don’t know or care.

38. I have nothing to be punished for. I will remain as I am for centuries to come.

39. I believe in me. I am a god.

40. People don’t usually say anything about Quinn. I asked Alex and she said “..Quinn’s nice.” So, vague much?

41. I don’t use a collar. My command is enough to keep them “leashed”

42. No, they aren’t marked. They don’t have to be.

43. Release them? Hell no! They’ll run right back to their rebels with dozens of secrets.

44. Whenever I appear with them, I keep a firm grasp on them. Their propaganda; like I said.

45. I’ve sedated them when I needed to move them or if they need to calm down. I’ve drugged them to have horrible nightmares, because those will become reality if they don’t listen to what I say.

46. I’ve certainly never seen anyone try and rescue them. Or if they did, it was a pathetic enough attempt I never noticed them.

47. I put a roof over their head. I give them clothes, a comfy bed, luxury food, books to read.

48. Hm. I can’t say I remember doing it, but I probably have.

49. Only if it’s important, okay?

50. Haha! You can try but you’ll lose a few fingers

💫Whump ask game!💫

🔸Most suitable for non-BBU pet whump but can be used for whatever

🔸Anyone can use and reblog, nsfwhumpers included :)

🔸We're bringing tumblr ask culture back and ensuring no one is left excluded - sending an ask to the blog y'all reblogged it from is highly encouraged! I'll send an ask too! :)

🔸A little inspired by a wonderful ask post I wasn't able to reblog or visit that person's tumblr. Y'all hear me out. No block can stop me from playing whump ask games.

🔥For Whumper🔥

1) How did you acquire your whumpee? How hard it was?

2) From all the possibilities, why did you pick your whumpee rather than anyone else?

3) Why do you keep your whumpee captive? Why won't you let them go?

4) Is everything you do to your whumpee legal? Do you have to hide it from the authorities?

5) How open are you about keeping your whumpee?

6) Where does your whumpee live?

7) Do you bring your whumpee to your workplace? How about bringing them to your social activities?

8) How would you describe your whumpee?

9) Tell me about your whumpee's prettiest features!

10) How does your whumpee behave around you? How much did it change from the moment of capture?

11) What rules do you have for your whumpee?

12) What do you do if your whumpee misbehaves?

13) Have you ever tortured anyone aside from your whumpee? If so, what's the difference between your torture techniques for your whumpee and for others?

14) Your favorite torture method?

15) Do you give your whumpee any gifts, rewards or treats? If so, what are they? If you don't, why?

16) How possessive you are about your whumpee?

17) Has your whumpee ever tried to run away from you? What would you do/have done in that case?

18) Did you finally break your whumpee? How hard it is/was?

19) Does your whumpee fully belong to you? If not, why?

20) Is your whumpee allowed to move freely? How much?

21) Do you believe you're doing the right thing? Have you ever felt guilty about what you do to your whumpee?

22) What would you do if someone tried to take your whumpee from you?

23) Does your whumpee receive any medical care or health checks? If so, where?

24) Any advice on brainwashing or conditioning?

25) Have you made your whumpee learn something aside from rules and behavior lessons?

26) Do your friends/teammates/coworkers help you to tame your whumpee? Do you allow anyone to handle them?

27) Do you allow anyone else to talk to your whumpee?

28) Do you respect your whumpee's boundaries?

29) Did you know your whumpee before capturing them?

30) How often do you feed your whumpee? Have you ever used food as punishment?

31) What do you use your whumpee for?

32) Does your ownership of whumpee mean anything symbolic for you? Do you make any sort of statement by keeping them?

33) How would you describe the feelings you ger from owning/hurting your whumpee?

34) Have you trained your whumpee to obey your commands? How so?

35) Do you need to restrain your whumpee often? How and why so?

36) What do you dislike about your whumpee?

37) Do you decide on your whumpee's clothes? If so, what do you usually make them wear?

38) Do you ever believe you could be punished for your deeds, whether in your lifetime or after?

39) Could you tell me a bit about your values? How would you describe what you believe in?

40) What do other people usually say about your whumpee?

41) Do you use a collar or a leash on your whumpee? Do they have to wear it everyday, or only on special occasions?

42) Is your whumpee marked as your captive/possession in any way? How so?

43) Have you ever considered returning or releasing your whumpee?

44) Do you ever appear with your whumpee in public? If so, how do you make sure they won't run away?

45) Have you ever drugged or sedated your whumpee? Why?

46) Has anyone ever tried to search for your whumpee or rescue them? How do you prevent them from succeeding?

47) Which aspects of comfort do you allow your whumpee to have, if you do so?

48) Do you ever discipline/torture your whumpee when they didn't do anything wrong? For maintenance, for showing off, just because you felt like it?

49) Would you mind me to see your whumpee? Could you bring or call them to come here?

50) Your whumpee is so pretty! Can i pet them? Please :)

🌼For Whumpee🌼

1) When did you meet your whumper for the first time? How was it like?

2) What were you doing before capture? What could you tell about your life back then?

3) How were you captured?

4) Were you taken specifically for whumper from the start, or there was another reason at first?

5) Have you ever been interrogated? For what reason? Were you tortured there?

6) Do your friends or family know you're here? Do you think they miss you?

7) Have you ever planned your escape? If so, do you think it's gonna work? (We won't tell anyone)

8) How would you describe your whumper?

9) How strict your whumper has been with you?

10) At which points are you most scared of your whumper?

11) What are your thoughts on why is your whumper keeping you there?

12) Which of your whumper's rules you find harder to obey?

13) How much time are you forced to spend by your whumper's side?

14) Do you think anyone would be able to find or rescue you?

15) Have you ever tried asking anyone for help? If so, how did they react?

16) Do you hide from your whumper? Does it help? How long it takes for them to find you?

17) How often do you fight or resist your whumper? How do they react?

18) Does your whumper make you sleep in their bed?

19) Does your whumper take you outside? For walks, for any interesting places, for visiting their friends?

20) Do you have a comfort thing to feel better/safer? Does your whumper know about it?

21) Does your whumper provide you with any things of entertainment to do in your spare time?

22) Does your whumper try to brainwash you?

23) Do you have anyone to talk to aside from your whumper?

24) How often does your whumper punish you? Why?

25) Which punishment method do you hate the most?

26) Do you like it when your whumper holds or touches you? How often would they do that?

27) Has your whumper ever made you wear something you hate?

28) What do you prefer to do to comfort yourself when you've been hurt or feeling sad?

29) Do you remember how long you've been captive?

30) Does your whumper use any pet names for you? What are their favorite? Do you like them as well?

31) How much privacy do you have?

32) Where do you feel safer - with lots of people in the room or with your whumper alone?

33) How do your whumper's friends/coworkers treat you? Do they pay attention to you?

34) Did your whumper ever threaten to hurt your family or friends? Have they actually done that?

35) If you were given an opportunity to escape, what would you do? Where would you run to?

36) What does your whumper usually force you to do? Which of these things do you hate the most?

37) How often do you get sick? Do you get someone to take care of you in that case?

38) Have you ever been afraid to fall asleep? Why so?

39) What does your whumper usually say to you? Does he give more threats or compliments?

40) Does your whumper listen to your pleads, complaints or requests? What would you never ask them for even if you absolutely needed?

41) How does your whumper usually act around his friends or coworkers? Does he try to be a good person for them?

42) How much do you miss your past life, if you do so? Which aspects of it do you miss the most?

43) Are you afraid to die?

44) If you knew you'd end up like that, what would you do differently in your life?

45) Is there anything you said or did that could've led to your capture? If so, do you regret it?

46) If you could become an animal, which one would you choose? Why?

47) How much have you changed since the first day in captivity?

48) Do you have any plans or hopes for the future now?

49) Tell everything you've ever wanted to say to your whumper (we won't tell anyone!)

50) Share one of your happiest moment of freedom for us!

[thediktatortot]

.

[fantasylandloser]

Winner

Pairing: Coach!Tashi x fem!Reader x Coach!Art

Warnings: 18+, smut, too filled with shame to proofread, dom!tashi, sub!art, sub!reader, mentions of spanking, tashi is so mean in this, art is basically a prop with minimal lines, idk

*******

Training with Tashi Duncan and her husband was an honor. You knew that. You did your very best to remember that; which was hard to do when she had days like this. 

“Are you scared of the fucking ball?” You shake your head, but you know better than that at this point. 

“Speak up!” You flinch before you can stop yourself. 

“No, I'm not scared of the ball.” You say.

“I would hope not- considering how long you’ve been doing this. That’d surely be a disappointment to your little fan club that you love so much. “ Tashi watched the way your eyebrows tinge only for a moment, at the mention of the onlookers who follow your career closely. 

It was no secret that you had a great appreciation for the love that they’d shown you, but it was almost like you were completely unaware of how quickly it would be gone if you weren’t up to par at all times. 

From afar Art watched the scene play out. You were the player that Tashi was the hardest on. He was sure it was to do with the fact that you were just like her. Well except for the fact that you lacked confidence in your abilities. Another reason she was hard on you. She wouldn’t see your potential wasted. But you worked hard like her, tennis was the love of your life like her. 

He watched as Tashi served to you, intense and laser focused. Then you, playing back with the same intensity and just as passionate. It’s almost magical to watch until you hesitate and miss the ball. 

Tashi’s on your ass before the ball can even hit the ground. “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you in it?” 

You stammer a reply that Art can’t hear. Probably an apology. His feet are moving closer before he can even think of a reason why. 

“No, tell me. What’s got you so off your game lately? Because you’re not going to fucking embarrass me at your next matches because you can’t get your head out your ass.”

“Tash lighten up.” He’s ignored which is to be expected. She stares at you intensely awaiting your answer. 

“How am I supposed to lighten up when she’s playing like she never held a racket before, huh?” Again she sees the twitch in your eyebrows. Good, you’re angry. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know-” Tashi holds up her hand. She doesn’t want your apology. 

“You know what- if you don’t want to tell me what the problem is,” She grabs your phone which has been continuously lighting up since you started. “I’m sure this will.’

You draw in a breath of air in surprise but you make no move to stop her. Your eyes wide at the invasion, but still ever so respectful even when your privacy is being violated. 

Almost immediately her eyebrows sprout up. “I thought we agreed on no boyfriends for this reason?” she shakes her head continuing to scroll through your phone as if it were hers. Art draws closer to her in interest, now intrigued about your phone as well, 

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You’re embarrassed, your grip on your racket tightening as you get angry at the way she’s shaming you.

“Obviously.” She mutters. She pauses a moment, both her and Art sharing a look and you know they’ve gotten to the most mortifying part. 

“Well if something would shake someone’s confidence it would be that.” You cringe, finally going to take your phone back only to be pushed back by Tashi.

“What did we talk about when it came to how you let people talk to you off the court and how it affects your game on the court?” You barely refrain from rolling your eyes.

“I can’t control what other people say” You can’t stop the edge in your voice. 

“But you can control what you say. You didn’t even try to stand up for yourself. This-” She shoves the phone at you with a picture of you half naked with the word unfuckable, in the center of the screen. “Is pathetic. “ You look away when she starts scrolling more like you don’t already know the rest of the verbal assault that had been issued towards you, and then a video of your so-called boyfriend with your next opponent and the lewd graphics that came with it. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?” You don’t mean for your response to be so angry. Or for the hot tears that started burning your eyes to fall. But the frustrations of your day had started to take a toll on you. So when you finally snatch your phone back from Tashi and get ready to storm off you miss the pleased look on her face. Art doesn’t though, he almost shakes his head knowing it was her intention to rile you up in the first place.

She raises an eyebrow at him, and just as she expects him to, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. The perfect good cop. “It’s okay, kid.” You’re tense in his arms, it reminds him of the times he’s tried to comfort Tashi and she wouldn’t allow it, but after a few moments of him rubbing your back you finally relax. .

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” You start, but Tashi interrupts. 

“Apologize for standing up for yourself and I’ll make you run until you pass out.” You wipe your eyes roughly and nod. Stepping away from Art’s hug and trying your best to put your game face back on. 

“You got that out of your system now?” You nod again, but after a pointed gaze you speak.

“Yes.” 

“Good now let’s talk about how you respond to this kind of bad sportsmanship.” 

******

The outfit Tashi has you in, is just barely appropriate, You look focused, despite the whistles you’ve received on your way in. You look a little angry actually. 

Art glances at Tashi beside him, who looks all too pleased. “What’d you do?” 

“I didn’t have to do anything.” She’s almost bragging. He follows her line of sight to Tashi’s opponent and sees her and your not boyfriend smirking at you. 

He wants to ask Tashi if she thinks this will shake your confidence more, but then he looks back at you laser focused as you stretch and he decides not to question it. 

The match starts off intense with your serve. Your opponent looks surprised and even though she quickly recovers. Art can tell that this will be a win for you even though he knows Tashi despises that kind of over confident thinking. 

As the match continues Tashi is gripping her seat for support. So enthralled in the game and invested in the fearlessness you’re displaying she can barely contain herself. 

At one point during a break you’re caught trash talking your opponent. Tashi is sure to get you for it later. Even though the only thing she hears clearly is “enjoy my sloppy seconds” with a saccharine smile on your face. The deduction you receive is definitely worth it. 

When you win as expected. Tashi is nearly buzzing and Art can’t hold back his excitement either. 

****

“See this is what happens when you’re a winner.” Tashi tells you. She quite literally holding Art’s balls as he fucks into you. 

“Winners are fuckable, tell her Art.” He gasps, feeling her squeeze him. 

“Fuck-” He breathes. “Did so good.” You spasm around him at the praise, pulling a loud groan from him. “Knew you were gonna win, kid.”

Your whines and whimpers are muffled by Tashi’s hand. “Fuck her faster, she’s gonna come.” Art obeys immediately despite the fact that he is much too close himself. Your eyes roll back at the change of pace. 

“There you go.” She squeezes Art’s balls once you start cumming so that he can too. He tries to pull himself out of you before but he can’t and leaves a sticky mess all over your cunt. “Fuck”

Tashi mounts you before you can stop twitching, lining her pussy up with yours, holding your leg over her shoulder. “Now next time I tell you to do something,, you’ll listen to me.” She starts slowly, spreading the mixture of both you and Art’s orgasm on both of you. 

“Isn’t that right?” You nodding makes her speed up, giving you that look of disapproval. 

“Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, yes I’ll listen to you.”

“Yeah I know you will, because now you know what good girls get.” She continues to grind against you skilfully.

“And next time you don’t listen to me-” You feel your core tense up again. “I will spank you until you cry.” Just like that you’re gone again. The masochistic side of you envisioning the picture that will haunt your fantasies until you get it. 

You don’t realize the loud moan you hear is you, until Art is kissing you sloppily to silence your cries. ‘You like that don’t you?” You hear Tashi say. You want to tell her yes but you can’t with Art’s tongue down your throat. You think she knows the answer anyway.

The contrast between the way that Tashi is fucking you so vigorously and the slow kisses Art is giving you puts your head in a spin. On top of that your overstimulated clit is making it hard for you to think at all. 

“Coach please-” You beg. “My pussy can’t;” You’re cut off immediately. 

“Who knows what's best for you? Me or you?”

“You!” By this time tears are flowing down your face, as you feel another orgasm building all too quickly. Art wipes them, then moves his hands down to pinch your nipples. 

“Exactly. Now cum.”

[jiniretracha]

ꕤ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 '𝟐𝟒 - 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟏 ꕤ

Lee Minho x fem!reader: hate sex

summary: Lee Minho was your number one enemy and you were sure you were his as well, only for you to figure out he just wanted a little bit of your attention

warnings: smut, angst, teeny tiny bit of fluff (?)

word count: 2.1k

kinktober masterlist // masterlist // ko-fi

Felix sighed. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ll try to do something, just don’t go. Okay?” he pleaded. “I feel like we got so comfortable with you and you’re so nice to us. It won’t be the same with another choreographer. You know us so well, you know what makes us uncomfortable, what we like to do, what we don’t… you’re special”

You smiled at the freckled boy and chuckled. “Well, thank you. At least someone makes me feel like it” 

“Because you are. Minho can be an asshole at times, but I can promise you he’s not a bad person” 

One thing you were sure of, is that you absolutely hated Lee Minho’s guts. You hated him so much it made you sick. 

He was always finding ways to be the worst part of your day, week, month and year.

You had been appointed as Stray Kids main choreographer, the job that you had dreamed of since you were little. They were one of the biggest bands in the world and you were the one creating the moves and ideas for the choreographies that were praised by millions of people. Your job was perfect and satisfied every single member and staff from the company… except for him. 

Minho was always pointing out your mistakes, embarrassing you in front of other people and making you feel out of place. It got to a point where you wanted to quit your job but Felix, being the sunshine he had always been, convinced you not to. 

“He’s making me feel like shit on a daily basis, Lix. What the hell am I supposed to do?” you cried to him, your mascara running down your cheeks. 

Felix handed you a tissue and you thanked him quietly, wiping the tears with it. “Don’t worry, Y/N. It’ll be okay, I can talk to him” he tried reassuring you.

“Oh please, like that’s gonna do anything” you muttered with a roll of your eyes. “That man won’t change being an asshole to me because you said something. Chan tried already and failed miserably”

“Okay…” you said, not wanting to argue with him about it because you knew he always tried to see the best in people, even if there wasn’t anything. 

Felix patted your back and left the studio, leaving you there with the tissue as you tried to regain your composure. 

With a sniffle, you stood up from the floor and went to the couch to grab your stuff, putting your phone inside your bag. 

The door of the studio opened with a screech and your head turned around. Your heart fell to your stomach when you locked eyes with the bane of your existence, Lee Minho. 

Your eyes instinctively rolled and you continued focusing on the task in hand: getting the hell out of there. 

“So, a little bird told me you were gonna quit” he said like it was something normal. Like he didn’t know that he was the cause of it. “I didn’t think you were that pathetic”

You snorted and shoved your jacket inside your bag before slinging it over your shoulder. “No, I’m not gonna quit. I wouldn’t dream of giving you the satisfaction” you said, walking over to the door that unfortunately was next to where he was standing. 

Before you could open the door, Minho grabbed your arm, pulling you back, making you scoff.

“Don’t touch me” you told him.

“Or what? You’re gonna cry to Felix again? Or to Chan?” he mocked you.

You could fill the rage firing up inside your veins as he spat word after word. 

Minho chuckled evilly at you. “You’re gonna go to Hyunjin, maybe? Or Changbin?” he asked. “Tell me, who are you gonna cry for attention now?” 

You slapped him with all the anger that you felt at the moment. He grabbed his cheek, staring at the side with his eyes wide, clearly not expecting that slap. 

“Shut the fuck up, you hear me? You don’t get to treat me like a slut just because you hate my guts without an apparent reason” you said. Minho turned his head and looked at you, his cheeks flushed red. You hated to admit, but he looked really cute with his eyes blown wide and his mouth slightly opened. You would’ve thought about it if you weren’t so livid. “Get out of my way and stay the hell away from me, Minho. I don’t wanna see you, talk to you or even be near you. Let’s do our job professionally by keeping things civil, it won’t require interacting with each other” you finished and your chest was heaving with uneven breaths. 

Suddenly, you felt yourself being slammed against the wall and someone grabbing you by the throat. Not hard enough to prevent you from breathing, but the pressure was there. Minho was staring at you with his nostrils heavying along with his breath. 

“You’re so fucking infuriating” he spat in your face and you could only stare at him, feeling embarrassed at how your core clenched at his tone. “You always talk back and try to be so smart with me, but you don’t fucking notice me”

“W-what?” you stammered.

Minho laughed at you and the hand that was on your throat fell down to your waist, framing it with his other one as well. He gripped your hips and pushed his against you, making you gasp as you felt his erection. 

“You don’t fucking notice me, Y/N” he whispered against your neck, and then you felt the tip of his tongue brushing over the sensitive skin of your neck. “You always try to grab the attention of Chan and Felix… but not mine” he said and then pulled away to look at your face. 

Your eyes were teary from the sudden action, but you were so aroused you could barely think.

Because the truth was that, even if Lee Minho was the person you hated the most, it wasn’t 100% only because of the unnecessary and irritating banter going on with you and him. It was because even after all the words spat in between you, you still found him incredibly handsome. 

“So why’s that, kitten?” he asked you, nose rubbing over your cheek.

You couldn’t really focus about answering, instead, your brain turned into complete mush.

“Hmm?”

“I- I don’t- I don’t know” you answered.

Minho chuckled evily and bit his lip. “Dumb baby, maybe if I put that cunt to use, you’ll start speaking. Shall we try?” he asked you.

You blinked rapidly and Minho grinned at the way you weren’t denying him at all. 

Soon, you found yourself inside the studio’s bathroom, your body pressed against the cool wall next to the door while Lee Minho, your sworn enemy, was devouring your mouth in a fiery kiss. Your arms were wrapped around his neck while you pressed your hips against his. His hands were gripping your hips trying to keep you in place while he rolled them over yours. 

“Fuck” you whispered against his lips. 

You knew you were gonna regret this later, but at that moment, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. 

His mouth moved to your neck while his hands drifted to your leggings, gripping your ass cheeks tightly in his hands. 

You gripped his hair and panted next to his ear. “Min-Minho” you stammered.

“What, babe?” he asked, lifting his head and looking at your eyes. He then bit your lip, pulling it and releasing it. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already fucked out…”

He then gripped the leggings you were using, making you gasp as you felt the teared clothes falling from your legs. 

“Kick off your shoes” he demanded and you obeyed, kicking them close to the sink. 

He suddenly dropped to his knees and pressed his nose against your clothed core. 

Minho sniffed and licked over your panties. “You’re soaked, kitten” he whispered, and grabbed the hem of your panties, pulling them down your long legs. 

He threw them away, without a care and draped a leg over his shoulder, exposing you to him. 

You felt your cheeks burn at the heaviness of his stare over your core. His fingers opened you and you stared at him as you saw his tongue poke out. He started licking over you, making you let out a long moan.

You squealed and jumped when you felt a sharp sting over your thigh. You looked down, finding Minho staring at you. “Don’t be too loud, we wouldn’t want anyone hearing those pretty moans” he said and then sucked on your clit. “Those are only reserved for me” he whispered and continued his assault on your pussy.

You pressed your head against the wall as he circled your hole with his tongue and played with it, inserting his tongue in and out of it while his nose was pressed tightly against your clit. 

He then groaned and stood up, pulling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. “I swear I’ll make you come later, I need to be inside you, fuck” he said through gritted teeth. 

He took out his cock and your eyes jumped out as you stared at it. Your mouth watered as you stared at the veiny girth and how he was stroking it with desire. His hands grabbed your hips and turned you around, pressing you against the wall hardly. 

You jumped when you felt him slap your ass. His hand dove into your hair and gripped it, pulling your head back so he could stare at your face as he played with your hole with his cock. 

“Who’s taking you right now?” he asked and pushed himself inside of you, making you cry out as you adjusted to his length. You felt him slap your cheek and grip your hair more tightly in his hand. “I asked you a fucking question, kitten” 

“You… you, Minho” you answered. 

“Yeah, not Chan… not Felix” he shook his head as he pushed out, only leaving the tip and then pushing back again, hard, making the tip hit the spot. “Me…” he growled.

You could only hold on to the wall as he punished your spot with his thrusts. He slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans that started getting louder by the second. 

His hand that gripped your thigh, pushed your back, making you arch even more as his foot came to rest on the lid of the toilet, finding the perfect angle that made you shut your eyes with force and bite on his hand to refrain from screaming. 

The hand that was holding your hair left to rub tight circles over your clit. “Come all over my cock, kitten, come on” he groaned, hitting the spot even harder with his thrusts. 

“Minho…” you sighed, your nails scraping against the wall. 

You gripped him tightly and exploded around him, moaning against your arm to keep the volume down. He growled as he felt your orgasm crash against his length and when he knew he wasn’t going to last any longer, he pulled out and quickly jerked himself off, his come spurting all over your ass cheeks. 

You gasped as you felt the liquid hit your skin and squeezed your thighs, feeling the action very hot. 

His hands came to brush over your body, and you felt his caresses as a pang on your chest. 

You stayed silent as you watched him grab some tissues from the corner of your eye to help you clean yourself up. 

“Um, I don’t have leggings” you told him.

“Oh, shit, right. Wait right here, I’ll be right back” he told you and left the bathroom. 

With a sigh you slumped yourself against the wall and cursed yourself for giving in to him. A few minutes passed and you decided that he had left and he wasn’t coming back. You grabbed your panties and pulled them up your legs, then sighed, decided to get out of the studio and make a fool of yourself in front of the cameras to grab your phone and ask some of the guys to bring you something to wear.

But before you could do any of those things, the door opened and Minho walked inside the bathroom, holding one of his jogging pants. 

“Here” he said, holding them out for you. 

You took them out and put them on.

“What? No thank you?” he smirked at you.

You glared at him and tied the knot over your belly. “I still hate you, you know”

Minho grabbed your jaw, forcing your head up to look at him and planted a kiss over your lips.

“We’ll see about that”

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

i hope you liked it, bc i hated it tbh

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

taglist: @annhearttihaehe // @frequentlykit // @alexisfeliz // @jeonginsleftcheek // @minghaosimp // @lixies-favorite-cookie // @yn-x-them // @chrizrizz // @madkati // @starzystay // @pancake-freckle

i apologize if i can't tag u :(

[gay-dorito-dust]

How about a bill x reader comforting him about his insecurities after having drank too much O'Sadleys? Bill talks about everything that bothers him being almost 100% honest about his emotions and the reader is like 😦. Baffled. Doesn't know how to respond.

You knew bill wasn’t in the right state of mind when you awoke yourself to the feeling of being watched at 3am, only to see a triangular silhouette with stringy arms and legs dangling from it like wet spaghetti noodles, his one eye was half lidded at though it was too much of a bother to open it fully as his top hat was slightly slanted.

‘Bill?’ You asked, trying to blink away the sleep and look at him properly. ‘It’s three am what are you doing here?’

Bill sniffles before hiccuping as he floats over to you, resting himself against your chest as his little hands grabbed at your nightshirt. ‘Tell it to me straight meat sack? I’m a shit friend aren’t I?’ Before you could say anything in response, bill continued. ‘I put venomous snakes in your bath when you ignore me, fire breaking chicken with dragon feet in your room when I want your attention, but not too much attention that I think about turning you into a gold statue so that I can keep you in my sights forever and ever to fill the fact that I don’t want to be alone again.’

He then looks at you with his watery eye, rubbing at it as he hiccups again. ‘Why do you think I have the henchmaniacs? I need to constantly be with someone or a group of them to get what I want, attention because I’ve been devoid of it for too long��that or to ignore that tv static inside my head that kept asking me why did I do it on repeat that it might as well have driven me mad.’

You felt as though you needed to be pinched in the moment because it was obvious that Bill wasn’t in the right state of mind, but he looked so vulnerable and pathetic that you couldn’t help but feel the smallest bit of sympathy for the guy, despite knowing how his ‘pranks’ can be from firsthand experience. You still have the scars to prove it whenever Bill denies ever doing so, and when you do show him he just waves it off as you being clumsy.

‘Bill go to sleep, we’ll talk about this in the morning.’ You tried to close your eyes but the feeling of being looked was too strong to ignore and the moment you opened your eyes again, Bill was hovering over your face and extremely close for comfort. Wait? Was his mascara running?

‘You agree with them too don’t you! I’m a one eyed freak who destroyed his home and thought that through terrorising people and making them submit to my will would ever make them like me enough to care!’ Bill cried as he hugged your face, hiccuping once again. ‘I say that I don’t need anybody when I’m actually I need someone, anyone to care about little old selfish me while expecting nothing in return! Is that too much to ask!’ He adds as he cries hysterically, his smudged mascara now smudged across your face as he nuzzles himself against you.

You awkwardly pat Bill on his back as he continued to weep, feeling a slight pan in your chest but questioning whether this is was just another prank of his, or just him being himself for once in your presence. ‘There there, I’m sure not everyone thinks that way of you..’ you trailed off as you tried to think of how you could approach this situation without risking the chance of death or becoming a golden statue for him to keep forever.

‘Really?!’ Bill says as his eye grow wide when he pulls away from you to look you into the eye. ‘You really mean that? You really, really mean that!’

You saw the childlike hopefulness in Bill’s eye and can’t help but sigh as you gently patted his hands that was holding onto your face in desperation. ‘Yes I really mean it bill, the past will only define you if you let it define you. You’ve done some…questionable stuff but I’m certain you’ll soon see yourself as a person, triangle, demon that you can be proud of.’ You finished off awkwardly as you tried your best to offer some solid advice that’ll appease him while hoping to live another day.

Bill sniffled, wiping the tears from his one eye. Or was it salvia? You didn’t know and didn’t want to care if you wanted to keep your sanity. ‘You’re my only true friend y/n.’ He admitted softly, fidgeting his bow tie and top hat before pulling it off his head. ‘You remember how I told you my home dimension was destroyed?’

Yes you remembered, he told you this information once upon a time and it was something that was hard to forget because how could you live through life knowing you were the last of your own kind without breaking down? Bill then reached into his hat and pulls out a small, barely visible atom that glowed like a star. ‘This is the last of it.’ He adds sombrely and you couldn’t help but feel gobsmacked that he was even showing you this that you couldn’t say anything other than.

‘I bet your home was beautiful.’

‘It’s hard to appreciate it when you’re born with a birth defect and having to bear the curse of being able to see into the 3rd dimension.’ Bill mumbled, nuzzling himself into your neck. ‘I got ridiculed by my peers but my mom would always tell me that she’d love me even with my one eye…sharp edges and all…’ bill trails off weakly as he pushed himself further again your neck to leech off of your warmth.

‘Oh bill.’ You said barely above a whisper as you allowed him to find comfort in your neck. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t be meat sack, you’re the only one who cares to listen anyways…I know you won’t betray me, you’re a true friend to me…or as close to one as I’ll ever get.’ Bill confessed as he felt himself fall asleep. ‘So thank you for that, you’re not so bad for a meat sack.’

While Bill fell asleep, you remained up all night wondering where or not he’ll remember this all in the morning or just down right deny that it ever happened in the first place, but just for now you’ll allow yourself to lap up Bill’s vulnerability and rest your hand on his back comfortingly as he slept peacefully. ‘You’re not so bad for a triangle dream demon either Bill, you’ll always have a home with me, or at least a safe space to be yourself with me.’ You said aloud to no one in particular before falling asleep yourself.

[chosopie]

y/n will slowly grow to love Conqueror Sukana. Just as long as Yuji keeps his title and is happy and safe

PART 3, CONQUERER - RYOMEN SUKUNA

SUMMARY: It has been weeks since the day of your grand wedding. Sukuna agreed to give your brother Yuji his share of power. Ever since then, you have been spending more time with him, soon growing to enjoy his company.

cw: fluff, you and Sukuna becoming softies

: ̗̀➛ part 2

"You will make sure Yuji gets his title. He's my brother, my blood. I will see to it that he will have access to privileges and resources of this kingdom," You sternly ordered, your eyes intensely staring at your husband Sukuna.

"Damn, do you talk a lot, woman. It's only been a couple weeks and you're starting to nag like an old wife," Sukuna groaned.

"My wishes must be fulfilled," you narrowed your eyes at him.

"And what will you do if they aren't, princess?" He arrogantly smiled at you, amusement glinting from his eyes.

"I’m not a princess. I am the queen and I could send you into exile."

Sukuna laughed at you. "How bold of you. You can't do that."

"You forget that my people are loyal to me, the true blood of this kingdom."

"You forget that I single-handedly killed your pathetic man and his army," He looms over you, his chest right in front of your face.

"Only, because I allowed it. I needed someone more capable like you," You admitted, trying to hold together what remained of your pride while commending your husband. When he smirked in response, you instantly regretted letting those words leave your mouth. To your dismay, that surely fed Sukuna's large ego, keeping it full and satisfied.

"That's all you had to say, brat,” He beamed. “You have my word. The little rascal gets what he needs and I'll protect him." Sukuna reaches over your head, ruffling the hair you had just tidied up.

“Hey!” You groaned, your hands patting and combing your hair in an attempt to return it to its previous state. Sukuna and his ego was a handful, but you knew deep down there had to be a soft spot beneath all that pride and cockiness. You were determined to crack that shell and see what’s really in his heart.

When the sun had set, the dinner table had been set up by your handmaidens. There was a large variety of food all over the table. Yuji sat beside you with a big smile on his face and his eyes lovingly staring at the food.

“Yuji, keep staring like that and you might just marry the food,” you snickered.

Yuji gave you an unamused look, “Come on! I’m just hungry. It’s been a while since we’ve had steak.”

“A while?” You quirked an eyebrow up. “We have steak every week.”

“Just let me be hungry!” He whined. “Where’s your husband? I’m gonna starve to death.”

“Your king is here,” Sukuna loudly said from the other side of the room. He wore a big fur coat over his wide figure.

Hearing his loud and obnoxious voice, you roll your eyes, but you were going to test and prod at him tonight. Beneath all those muscles and ego, there has to be something else in there, right? We can’t pretend forever.

“Pass me the salt, hun,” you point towards the small shaker across the table. Sukuna raised his eyebrow, questioning your behavior; nevertheless, he complied with your request.

Yuji stared at the two of you with confusion. What was with the nicknames all of a sudden? Have you been taking something weird? This was not the big sister he knew. Perhaps you’ve gone soft. “As long as she’s happy,” Yuji thought. After having Sukuna around the house for a couple of week, he didn’t seem so bad after all, just a little obnoxious and boastful. He never raised a hand at you nor did he yell at you just because he wasn’t in a good mood. He seemed to care.

When all of you had finished eating, Yuji returned to his quarters while you and Sukuna headed to yours. Sukuna immediately threw himself onto the bed and made himself comfortable under the thick duvet.

“I’m gonna shower,” you told Sukuna. He simply nodded in response.

You stepped into the shower and twisted the small knob, allowing the warm water to rain on your skin. Closing your eyes, you thought about how Sukuna had been ever since he came around. Most of the time, you two would clash over your different ideologies or even the simplest things like food or how you ate the cake he had been waiting all day to eat. Despite all that, he respected you and treated you well. He would buy you dresses and jewelry, making sure you were clad in the prettiest things out there. You let out a sigh in relief as the warm water began to relax your body. You grabbed your most fragrant soap and made sure to scrub yourself clean. Once you were finished, you wiped yourself dry with a towel, then slipped into a pink nightgown that sort of matched his hair.

You walked into the room, Sukuna’s eyes immediately landing on you. “What’re you doing?” You ask while you made your way to the bed to sit beside him.

“Reading,” he mumbled, his eyes now fixed on the small book in hand.

“Is that a history book?” Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Aw, do you care about me and my country that much?”

“Fuck off. I’m reading this so I know how to take advantage of the shit you guys have,” Sukuna huffed in annoyance.

“I love you too, Sukuna,” you tested those words. Those three damn words. They felt foreign in your mouth.

Sukuna tensed up, his face looking stiff as ever. He hesitantly turned to look at you and got up. Now, you were scared. He inched closer and closer to you, his body towering over you as usual. You couldn’t read his expression and it made your nerves jitter. He reached his hand out to hold your head, and you thought he was going to ruffle your hair like he always did, but no. It was something different which shocked you. He pulled your head in and gently kissed you on the forehead.

“I love you,” he softly said.

You looked at him with wide eyes, your cheeks red from the intimate gesture. Was he serious? Your heart was beating so hard you could feel it in your ears. The room suddenly felt hotter than usual. There was a strange warm feeling that swelled in your beating chest. A bold idea crossed your mind, and you let your body move on its own, your arms reaching out to him for an embrace. You slowly snaked your arms around his torso and rested your head in the crook of his neck.

This isn’t so bad. You’ve fallen for him.

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear before pecking his cheek.

[punkpandapatrixk]

🧝🏻‍♀️Mystical Glow-Up Secrets ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

Your mystical glow-up is literally divinely ordained, no cap HAHAH I’ve got this vibe from the deck-bottom but let me start with this quote:

'A Humanity that thinks materialistically will produce frightful beings in the future, and a Humanity that thinks spiritual thoughts, will work upon and transform the future organism so that beautiful Human bodies will proceed from it.' – Rudolf Steiner

Oh, gosh.

We are in an era of spiritual consciousness. This is an era where we learn to reflect outwardly what it means to be a 5D-Consciousness Being. Living in a 5D consciousness, people naturally feel lighter, freer, younger, prettier, healthier, more fit, more stress-free, more energetic; all because people's whole vibrations are 'triggered' by a more spiritual ae-nergy.

ae is known as chi or prana or orgone in other languages; by synchronizing with your ae, ever so organically your body learns to derive vital energy from a purer source of consciousness—a high vibration of aetheric authenticity—that reflects in the physical world as a glow-up of the highest divine order~♥︎

As your Mind comes into alignment with the ae of your Spirit, so your Body becomes attuned to that Order. The significance of ae will only grow as more people come into a spiritual kind of liberation from the chains of insecurity propagated by the monsters in the media and politics.

No matter what the propaganda of the moment may say and try to do, you could always be the conscious individual that distils information and derives from this process only the essence of what is good for you on a personal level. If you’re happy, satisfied, confident and proud with your intelligent conscious choices, that spark of contentment is what truly makes a person glow from the inside out~★

education: Body Care and Grooming (1948)

technomagy: Facial Symmetry with Muscle Toning (Energetic Programmed Audio) by Sapien Medicine

deck-bottom: XX Judgement Rx, Silver Historian (Polydore Vergil), Priestess of Beauty

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – As You Mend Your Heart, Babe, All of You Gets Beautiful Again

assistance: what is coming is 100000x better than what is gone by doyouflow

what’s been taken from you? – 9 of Wands

Although this is a 9 of Wands card, I see that the entirety of your Pile is water-based. You’re someone whose heart is very pure and kind, and you’ve sacrificed a lot of yourself for being there for others. I’m hearing: ‘for a pessimist I was pretty optimistic, and I got nothing—NOTHING—but betrayal and abandonment, and I am exhausted.’ Being charitable around the wrong fucker can surely drain our spiritual aenergy!

You’ve been through multiple cycles of ‘exhausting’ friendships with people who couldn’t appreciate you for the delicate human that you are. They only saw you as this fiery, strong, charismatic capable individual who always managed to whip up a positive attitude in any circumstances. It never occurred to them—not that they’d care to wonder anyway—that maybe this time around you’re the one needing a hug.

Nobody cared; and even the ones who pretended to care, only wanted to know what your gloominess was all about. And they went on to talk shit behind your back and had a good laugh about it. ‘MU HA HA HA, turns out Y/N ain’t even that shit! Y/N is pretty pathetic/loser/crazy BU HA HA HA HA!!!’ Funny thing is, you always knew about their shit one way or another and the whole revelation broke your heart to pieces. Multiple times with different people… tsk tsk…

recalling fragments of your beauty – 9 of Cups

Well, now, I can see you’ve lost a lot of these ‘friends’ and worked on yourself to create new neural pathways towards a truer sense of spiritual abundance. I’m sure right now your Life is pretty OK in areas like finance and material security; your job or creative project is going swimmingly; you have a pretty good work-life balance; and for the most part you’re really enjoying the peacefulness of your solitary Life.

But if there’s one thing, I think you haven’t had a really good conversation with someone interesting in a pretty long time. I see that your eyes have not twinkled from being complimented by someone genuinely kind in a really long while. You’ve lost a lot of your affection for people and you’ve lost faith in being energetic and social. People always disappoint in the end because their hearts are ugly and they’re mean to each other. This deep-seated belief has caused your eyes to look dead and droopy.

Have you perhaps noticed that you’ve developed a set of sanpaku eyes? The minimalistic science behind it states that people could develop sanpaku eyes after going through a lot—like a FUCKTON—of heartache and disappointments. I think your case could be dealing with some kind of a ‘betrayal trauma’ or some variety of ‘injustice trauma’. Look ‘em up, babe~ ♥︎

sealing the deal with the Divine Feminine – Knight of Cups

If some years have passed now since the last time you were around your fake friends, or even frenemies, I want you to know that your beauty has not been lost to time or ageing. Nope. Not at all. That’s bullshit. I can see that you’re the type of person who ages very UNNATURALLY. If your natal chart has a lot of Water aenergies or you have strong placements in Water Houses, you’re defo the type of bitch that can TRANSFORM your physical appearance by sheer mood ;D At this point, you can’t even age coz that skin barrier is strong AF LMAO

THAT’S WHY! Your true mystical glow-up secret lies in your mending your pretty Heart~ You’ve never had an ugly Heart, obviously, and still now it’s not ugly or anything; but it’s the way you think about how deserving you are of a friendship or relationship that honours your complex sensitivity that needs to be acknowledged and RECLAIMED. Doesn’t matter how, doesn’t matter when or who’s coming next, I just want you to know that if this reading has popped in to your Life… Your Soulmates are coming to get you, bitch. Pack up and play in the sea! XD

The good times that you’re going to be having with your Soulmates, Soul Tribes, Soul Fam—however you may resonate—are going to refill the stars in your Heart, automatically reflected in your eyes~ ★_★v Hahah I promise you that you’re going to reunite with Souls who are very, very old friends with you. You’re going to live a very happy, passionate Life doing things you like with people you Love… How the hell do you think that’s not gonna heal all of you and make everything about you beautiful again?😉

Originally, you’re a beautiful bitch. And if you’ve also got some Capricorn/Saturn/10th House placements, it’s very likely you’re ageing backwards! What the hell even is that?? \`★_★`/

GODDESS OF BEAUTY🔻💙

beauty on the inside – Green Physician (Paracelsus)

beauty on the outside – Priestess of Inspiration

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – It’s the Passion in Your Heart That Reflects Outwardly Your True Inner Beauty

assistance: I TRUST things aren’t falling apart they are FALLING INTO PLACE by doyouflow

~wah, girl, you really gotta check out the bonus content for this one XP~

what’s been taken from you? – 5 of Cups Rx

Out of all the Piles, you’re the baddest bitch of them all, do you realise that? You’ve got the most unhinged aenergy about you XD You’re a psycho, you know that? You’re generally thought of as either unpredictable or uncontrollable, but you could also be both, unprovoked LMAO People think you’re a problem child, because you’re so gutsy. I’m literally not getting ANYTHING about what’s been taken from you ^_^; Are you sure you still need this PAC? XD

First of all, you literally exist in your own dimension. That’s why people can’t control you. They can’t tame you. You’re a weirdo, a maniac even, who does things your way, plans things according to your vision, and yours alone, for the most part. People think you’re rather selfish but it’s because you’re a girl, right? If you were a man they’d say you’re DRIVEN. And yes! DRIVE that Bentley, bitch! No, DRIVE that Tesla into OUTER SPACE, bitch! You don’t appreciate people telling you what you CAN’T do!

And you don’t like it when people gaslight you about your confidence just because they’re a little bitch. You love being a Supreme Bitch—you’re a girl on a mission; ain’t nobody got the aenergy to listen to nobody’s guilt-tripping. And in that sense, your spirit and psychology have never really been hit by society. Society has never been able to take away anything from you ♡

recalling fragments of your beauty – XIV Temperance Rx

I see that your Beauty has stayed intact for the majority of your Life. It’s not like you’d resonate with having lost fragments of your beauty to years of depression, malnutrition or anything of the sort? Your mindset has remained strong for the majority of your adult Life. You have a strong mentality and this is reflected well in your physical body. A glow-up is easy, as long as you want it. And for the most part, your glow-up is tightly bound to your sense of purpose.

You’ve always known you’re meant for great things. And from a very young age you already worked on your mentality. You REFUSED to be normal, you refused mediocrity. It wasn’t a walk in the park until you reached your conviction though. Your childhood was rather constrictive, either due to societal expectations…or familial expectations. The adults around you thought you didn’t notice but you saw all of these fences put around you, and they pissed you off. Even your peers couldn’t understand what you wanted to make out of yourself.

So you rebelled from a very young age. You were, yes, THEE problem child, only because the small-minded people around you were a problem to your goals! Such hindrance. And now you’re glowing up and grabbing all the money bags and they jealous? Are you even fucking kidding my butt? Your path towards a total glow-up of your mindset and real life was not always perfect, but what’s perfection? All of the struggles play into creating your lore👑

sealing the deal with the Divine Feminine – 2 of Cups

If you’ve never heard anybody tell you this, allow me to be the first. Your drive, your determination, your ambition and motivation, although these qualities may make you appear like a selfish bitch on the outside, I, ME, MYSELF, understand that you want these things not only for yourself. There are people in this world you want to protect and provide for. Maybe it’s your mother who was abused or left by her deadbeat husband, idk. Maybe it’s a sibling or a pet you want to give the best Life for, idk.

Maybe, you want to achieve success and fame and be seen by the world, because you want to save the world from the malady of its own crazy, idk~ You want to be an example, a healing presence, a voice of reason, a voice for the voiceless, idk? You may look a certain bitchy, scary way on the outside, but your heart is good; it’s PURE GOLD. You live for the betterment of someone else and if that’s not LOVE, what is?

What most people don’t understand about you is how your sparkle of beauty literally comes from this desire to protect and provide for someone other than yourself. You have a lot of Love in your heart, even if you don’t always admit it to yourself. Your entire Life, your glow-up has come from your being DRIVEN. Vroom vroom, MOTHERFUCKER .・°☆~ You leave a trail of stardust for your aenemies ♥︎

GODDESS OF BEAUTY🔻💛

beauty on the inside – Green Alchemist (Nicolas Flamel)

beauty on the outside – Priestess of Patience

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – When Your Existence is Useful to the Healing of Others, Their Love/Gratitude Nurtures You Back to Health

assistance: you get to be universes favorite by doyouflow

what’s been taken from you? – Page of Cups Rx

See, it’s crazy that literally a few mins before starting on you, Pile 3, I came across a quote that says this:

‘Some of us are such advanced Souls that we did not come here to be supported, but we came to be the support system for many. If you’ve had a challenging Life and feel you never had proper support or Love, that is because YOU are the Love and Support.’

Well, my heart broke, but…hey, there’s clarity and validation there😊

All of these cards are in reverse, telling me there’s a lot that’s been taken from you. Your heart, compassion, resources, money, hobby items, OMG, the list is endless! So much has been taken away from you. Either by people borrowing stuff without remembering to return or people getting a favour without returning it to you. At least, even when it seemed like they did return some favour to you…the return was either lacklustre or just…it didn’t feel right?

You’ve felt gaslit too much your entire Life. An incessant feeling of being unseen, unappreciated, unloved, could’ve eaten away at your self-worth. You’ve often been the miracle in someone else’s Life, but when it comes to you needing a transformation in your Life, where’s MY miracle…? I think you could have Chiron in 12th House or Pisces? That kind of placement is one where an individual constantly feels like they’ve been forsaken by God, or the positive forces of the Universe…

recalling fragments of your beauty – 3 of Pentacles Rx

The truth of the matter is, you’ve not been forsaken by your Spirit Guides. See, this message is gonna be especially resonant for you who do have Chiron or Saturn in the 8th or 12th House—that the Universe, your Higher Self and Spirit Guides have given you so little guidance and support, because you’re meant to learn how it feels like to be in the shoes of Humans. See, it’s not to say these Humans do not have support—babe, they CAN’T access the support because they’re BLIND and DEAF AS FUCK.

Humans are so embarrassingly divorced from their own intuition. Even the most religious folks are blind and deaf to actual angelic whispers. In many cases, because their false religions have taught them to worship wrongly and be obedient to evil authority and not question any injustice and wrongdoings. The more blindly religious a person is, the more separated they are from their own Humanity, because now their ears are deaf to empathy.

You came into this world to understand the twists and turns of how it feels like to navigate this crazy Matrix with so little guidance, so that one day, when you’re propelled into your main mission, you can remind and even teach people how to re-connect with Love—the true source of all compassion and Divinity in Human Form. When you remind people of their Humanity, you regain, and grow exponentially in Beauty ♥︎

sealing the deal with the Divine Feminine – 6 of Pentacles Rx

So, as you can see, you have a very important spiritual mission in this incarnation. I do not give a goddamn dime what you think you look like; whether or not you‘re conventionally attractive; whether or not you fit some bullshit beauty standards; YOU ARE FUCKING BEAUTIFUL when you’re seen sharing your healing gifts with the world! You do remember that a lot of historians say Cleopatra wasn’t perceived as necessarily that conventionally beautiful by most people, right? But that everybody was charmed by her intelligence and charisma when talking about politics?

Yeah, you give me that vibe, bitch <3 That the essence of what you do to alleviate sorrow in the world, when seen by others, when people listen to what you say, when what you do or write changes people’s lives for the better, when people feel motivated by your sheer aenergy to improve themselves—it’s that kinda shit what will help you regain your natural beauty, or manifest a glow-up ☆

When you engage in your Life’s main mission, it’s people’s Love for what you do and the Gratitude they feel for what it’s done in their lives what will aenergetically nurture you back to health. In a nutshell, people’s appreciation for your Life’s Work IS your support system in this world—later on in Life maybe if you haven’t started. It is your Purpose to be useful to the healing of others~ You’re defo gonna have an audience \^_^v Namaste, bitches~★ I honour all that you’ve been through and all that you’re going to do for this world~ You’re so LOVED!!! <3

GODDESS OF BEAUTY🔻🧡

beauty on the inside – Gold Historian (Raphael Holinshed)

beauty on the outside – Priestess of Love

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

[tickettride]

I know you're hurting || B.C.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

pairing is benny cross x f!reader

in which you have no choice but to call benny after being stabbed, even though he's just supposed to be a memory. it was raining when you met him, and it's raining again when he almost loses you. or are those tears in his eyes?

word count: 1,9k

warnings: a lot of blood, angst and panic, mentions of death and hospital, probably a few mistakes

A/N: in a love/hate relationship with this one, but I really wanted to post something here. and look at those eyes? am I strong enough to resist such pathetic eyes? I’m afraid not :/

You had never believed in fate and luck until then. Those were just concepts invented by humans to make others feel less alone. The bikeriders club had imploded, and that was it. The reasons weren’t linked to destiny, just to a few guys looking for trouble. Delusion would lead you nowhere.

But then, why did it have to be you with that hole in your abdomen? 

The question sent you to your knees, breathing heavily in agony. The knife was at your feet, lying in a puddle of blood. Your blood. You had managed to remove it from your stomach with a scream, and now it felt as though it had drained all your energy. 

Your body screamed to lay down and take it easy, but you couldn’t. You had to call someone, anyone, to get some help. A face flashed in your mind, and it made you cry even harder. God, you had no choice. Your parents would kill you, and none of your friends were in town. The few people who had walked by the store—fate had decided they would arrive that that very moment when you were so close to death—had run away in terror, and you were still waiting for someone to get you out of this horror.

So you didn’t think twice. Hoisting yourself painfully, one of your hands pressed hard against your wound as the other reached out for the counter. Within the next minute, you were standing, mustering all your strength to get to that damn phone behind the cash register. 

A small noise escaped your throat when you stepped across the cashier, his eyes forever fixed on the ceiling. You briefly wondered if he had seen your terrified face before getting shot.

The two young men had startled you at first, but you hadn’t thought for one second that they would panic after trying to rob Mickey and stab you to keep your mouth shut forever. 

You swore you knew one of them from school. 

Nearly falling against the wall, you finally managed to take the phone and dial the number you couldn’t forget. He had given it to you on the day you met, his eyelashes wet and dark from the rain.

“In case you need me,” he had explained, the number written on a clean napkin. “Ask for Benny.”

You’d never had the opportunity to call until then. Not when he had been there to protect you. A creep getting a bit too close to you? You just had to meet Benny’s eyes. You had never realized how lucky you had truly been back then. 

The ringing stopped and turned into a buzzing silence. You prayed hard to hear Benny’s voice, but you weren’t lucky. 

“Who’s this?” 

You took a shaky breath, trying hard to keep hope. If Benny wasn’t the one on the other side of the line, then he was surely playing cards or smoking outside. That’s where he spent most of his days—now fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to lead him far away from you on that very day. Would it?

You gave the man your name, only then realizing you were talking to Cal. You hadn’t heard his voice in forever. 

“You’re hurt?” Cal asked, his tone filled with worry. 

“Um-hum,” you replied hesitantly, glancing at the door to make sure no one was coming in. You couldn’t risk him coming to get you. Cal would take at least three guys with him, and the outcome would be bloodier. “I’m fine. Is… is Benny around? I need to talk to him.”

Your vision grew hazy. And the hand holding your stomach felt so wet, so gross. The longer you waited for an answer, the further the panic spread through you. 

“I think so, yeah," Cal mumbled.

And after what felt like forever, Benny said your name. The world rolled off his tongue so beautifully that you couldn’t help but let out a sob of relief, your head thudding against the wall. This fucking man. 

“Hey,” you sounded bashful, so ashamed he was the only person you could reach. 

“Cal said you sounded weird,” Benny said. “What happened?”

Your heart beat so hard against your ribcage it hurt. Benny and you had broken up two months ago for this exact reason: the danger. You couldn’t bear living in a state of constant fear, anxious that Benny would get hurt, or worse. And Benny… he had told you he wouldn’t change. Couldn’t change. Now you had almost died, and you couldn’t even blame him.

It was just your own misfortune. And now, you felt so guilty for breaking things off when that danger was absolutely everywhere. With or without Benny, you wouldn’t escape it.

“I just wanted to run a few errands, and those guys just… they burst into Mickey's store with a gun. They said they just wanted the money, but they looked so lost."

For a long moment, Benny said nothing. “Are you hurt?”

“They’ve stabbed me,” you blurted, and it felt so odd to say the words out loud. Of course, the city had its fair share of thugs and criminals. They were just not supposed to assault a decent store in the middle of the fucking afternoon. “I’m bleedin’ so bad, Benny. It won’t stop bleedin’. I swear they just had guns comin’ in, but—but the tall one pulled out a knife and—"

“Fuck!” you suddenly heard, causing you to startle and hold the phone away from your ear momentarily. “Don’t move, alright? I’m comin’ to get ya.”

“Um-hum.”

No other response came, and you supposed he had already taken off. You had never doubted Benny would show up in a second for you, wherever you were. After all, he had promised you so on the day he had first kissed you.

And Benny was true to his word. Twenty minutes later, while you were pressing your hands on the wound with all your strength, writhing in pain, he appeared in front of you.

From the quick rising and falling of his chest, you guessed he had run through the store to find you there, in the back alley. Like the first time you spotted him, the raindrops fell graciously over the curve of his nose, making you jealous when they kissed his lips. You hadn’t cared about the rain when you had limped outside, just wanting to get some fresh air and the sight of Mickey’s lifeless body out of your sight.

“I told you not to move,” Benny simply said, no hello or I’ve missed your face.

“I couldn’t stay inside with that stench,” you replied cooly, unable to meet his eyes. 

Silence filled the alley for a short time, when Benny finally noticed the blood seeping out onto your shirt. You watched as his eyes went up to your face again, the blood on the floor and your body delivering him to a sudden chill. You couldn’t hide the pain, the tears, and the dread anymore. You were standing there, bare before him, and there was nothing you could do to pretend. 

“Goddamn. What’d they do to ya?"

Benny came closer to take your wrist, but you stopped him, afraid that he would touch it. “No.”

“Let me see,” he rasped, trying to pry your fingers away from your curled-up hand. 

Your panic only seemed to work him up. He gazed at the wound for a long time, and you could almost see the thoughts behind his eyes. Thinking about how he would find those two guys again and make them pay for laying one finger on you. He would find the same damn knife and make them pay for that look in your eyes, filled with worry.

The red liquid ran quickly into the crevices of your palm. Benny said something, but your heartbeat thrumming in your ears made it hard to listen. All you could feel was the blood on your hand, never faltering.

“I think I’m gonna faint," you slurred, losing all strength in a second.

It took Benny even shorter to leap to you and hold your body against him, his warm scent filling your nostrils.

“Hey, you hear me?” Benny was talking in your ear, his strong arm sweeping beneath your knees and lifting you until you were cradled to his chest. “You’re okay. I’ve got ya.”

His voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the rain pouring down. With your head lolling against his neck, you shakily observed your red hand. Wasn’t it supposed to stop bleeding? Why was it bleeding so damn much? 

The sight was as unsettling as it was sickening, freezing you in morbid fascination. 

“Don’t let me die here, Benny,” you heard yourself mumble, your tears mixing with the raindrops.

You looked up at him. His eyebrows were knitted together, rivulets flowing down his cheek. 

“I won’t,” he promised like all the promises he had made back then, and it felt like you were flying, although he was just striding down the alley towards the main street. Your fear was contagious, but not your shame. While you tried hard to ignore the puzzled eyes of the cars driving past you, Benny barely paid them any attention. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Benny snapped you out of your daze, and you realized you were gasping in for a breath, praying they hadn’t ripped something vital inside you. “I know you’re hurtin’.”

The term of endearment made you sniffle hard. Instead of easing the heartache, all it did was break you in pieces again. You wished you could have kissed him right there. Tell him you would do anything to stay alive and give him all the love he needed. Although selfishly, you couldn’t help but love the attention he was giving you.

“We’re gonna get ya taken care of, sweets. You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

A warm kiss was placed on your wet forehead, his mouth lingering for longer than necessary while he battled his instincts and crossed the busy street. Through his affection and the fake determined steps, you could see how terrified he really was. He was just as overwhelmed as you, his features slightly hardening to hide the burgeoning emotions. Benny had lost so many people over the years; you couldn’t be the next one abandoning him.

You almost felt guilty for getting the leather seat of the car wet, but he had softly lowered you before you could say anything and you were hurting too much anyway. You kept your mouth shut as the rain thrashed against the window, and it didn't stop until Benny told you were at the hospital. The smell of it burned your nose, even from inside the car. You didn’t even want to open your eyes.

You hated how dizzy and half-alive you felt, but you hated hospitals even more. 

“Wait,” you stopped Benny before he could get out of the car, and it struck you how upset and frantic he really looked. There was this wetness in his eyes that wouldn’t leave, even when you tried to give him your best reassuring look. 

“I know you can’t stand the place–”

“That’s not it,” you cut him off, and you watched how hard he refrained himself from telling you to fucking hurry. “Can you–can you kiss me? Just in case.”

“You’re not dyin’,” Benny rushed to reply, shaking his head as though the idea was killing him inside. 

"The last thing I saw when he stabbed me was your face. Not my goddamn future or my parents. I saw you,” your voice cracked again. “Please.”

You wished, fervently, that his hands had not cradled your cheek so easily in such an ugly and mundane parking lot. On the few occasions you had allowed yourself to fantasize about the way you would find your Benny again, it had been romantic and beautiful. Not with your hands dripping red, staining his jacket. Not with your wet and sweaty hair glued to your forehead, and the ungraceful whines leaving your mouth when he accidentally touched you where it hurt. 

You clung desperately to his neck, the daze in your mind turning into something less painful. Benny kissed you as if it were the last time, and you sank against his love that came from the pit of his soul, where no one had been able to reach. No one but you. You kissed him back as strongly, one hand clutching his thick, disheveled hair.

“It’s not a goodbye kiss,” Benny warned, glassy eyes set on yours as he shook his head repeatedly. “You hear me? You’re stayin’ with me.”

All you could do was nod as he wiped the hot tear that rolled down your cheek. Fate and all the misfortunes set on your path still made no sense to you, but you supposed it was less scary with Benny on your side. After that kiss, you were certain he wouldn’t leave you ever again. And it wasn’t even delusion.

It started right in the hospital room, where he refused to leave you for more than a minute. You were safe and out of danger—as for now—but Benny wasn’t having any of it.

"I'm stayin'," he kept saying to the nurses, and when he looked back at you with those eyes, you knew he meant it. He would always stay.

[yilingpatriarchscvnt]

They were too late to get you back.

Warnings: mention of death, arguments, angst with no happy ending, neglected reader, jealousy.

Diluc x reader, Alhaitham x reader

"Never got the chance to apologize.."

DİLUC

Diluc and you were not the type of people who would fight often, been a relationship with him almost 4 years. Sure, everything is going well.

Well... it was going well. For the past 1 year everything changed for you and him. He barely came home, interact with you, ignoring you most of the time... and kept arguing, fighting over small things.

You never opened your mouth or fight back, you loved diluc so much that it was starting to hurt. Your shared room started to feel cold, no more morning kisses or hugs before diluc went to work, cold breakfasts and dinner all by yourself. Even if he did join the diner he would be quiet all the time, not even looking at you.

You did kept your mouth shut, holding for a hope... a hope for your future with him. Until you heard the conversation with Jean. The last knife that would break you.

"She's so useless, I cant keep up with her annoying presence all the time. All she do is stay at home and distract me from work... she keeps finding noneless things to argue with me. I just want to break the ties with her already, being with her is so tiring."

"Am I... that bad?" Who knew your dear lover was thinking of you like this for the past 1 year. All you wanted was too be like the past relationship you both had. Warm bed, morning kisses, happy breakfast and dates. Covering your mouth trying not to make any sound you left there sobbing quietly.

You did everything, I mean really everything. That all arguing was really nothing for him? You just asked for him to stay by yourside for more. You were slowly draining from inside, you had no one but diluc. Only his presence was keeping you sane but this cold mansion was making you crazy.

You returned back to the mansion, you had enough. Talking with him would go nowhere after all. You wanted his attention, you wanted him to see your worth. Going to the storage room picking up the sword once you held before moving in with your so called lover. Taking a mission from katheryne, you walked to the lawachurls camp.

You were going to show him that you are still worth for something, that you could help him with everything if he asked for it. Even if it meant death. Standing in front of the big creature holding your sword tightly you ran towards to it.

..Oh how wrong you were, thinking you could defeat that monster. Laying on a pool of blood coming from your head. Suddenly feeling peacefull for the first time after 1 year of suffering from neglect. Looking at the shining stars above you. Your head ringing from aches, sword a meter away. Faint screaming noises from back. You couldn't bother to look that way.

"Please..." a faint voice big hands caressing your cheek, weird it wasnt raining but you could feel wetness on your cheeks. Turning your eyes to the voice. Hands wiping away your blood.

"Diluc.." your throat dry, coughing the blood. Your beloved, your future. How could you hate him when he was the only one left in your life? İs this really how you were going to die? As a pathetic advanturer? Few tears sliding from your face as your blurry vision tried to capture every beauty on his face.

"Jean is coming here so... please... please dont leave me now..I wont neglect you anymore...I will beg on my knees once you recover... so dont leave me here all alone.." Ah... was he also holding a hope on his hands too? A future would be great with him. Your eyelids feeling heavy, heart beating slowly as the seconds passing, his voice becoming more and more faint.

"Sleep...Can I sleep in your arms?" Your head falling to his chest, inhaling the scent for the last time you missed for so long. Diluc holding your cold body close to him, screaming and crying cursing to the celestia as you drift away from him.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham was no bad guy, I mean if it is you, he actually is willing to do anything for you. He is sure workaholic, but you guys were making sure spending time.

You met him in akademiya when you guys were like 18-19. İt wasnt a love in first sight infact you hated him because he was a cocky man. He barely cared for any situtations, always one step ahead of you, teasing you even if other cant really understand his way of teasing. But overall because of kaveh you guys did get along sometimes.

Suprisingly he was the one who confessed with a valentines card, it was cute since he was shy about it and now its been 7 years.

Alhaitham is good at fighting so sometimes he takes dangerous missions other than being scribe and that worries you a little. You were just a researcher in akademiya so you cant always be with him. First time meeting with The Traveler your mind was at ease since they were with Alhaitham and helped him with secret missions in desert.

From 7 years to this day he is also not the type of person who really shows affection towards to someone but you, it made you feel speacial. But after all that archon saving missions he invites traveler to dinner, hanging out with her more and more. You told yourself that you were not jealous and its normal to hang out with people they like.

This became so often that you were feeling so neglected, you couldnt even talked about this with alhaitham since you felt like he wouldnt care about it.

You were in your room with kaveh, he was trying to finish his desings as you were staring at the ceiling. "Saw alhaitham with a woman today while coming here." Kaveh broke the silence. "Do you know her?" He turned to you.

"You mean the traveler?" You asked tilting your head. "Uhm no? Traveler left to fontaine almost 1 week ago..." he was cold sweating, your eyes widened from shock. Then who he was meeting up with for 1 week?

"Kaveh... tell me your joking?" You laughed. İt was probably one of the jokes he was making right? But he remained silent looking down. No you wouldnt believe it until you see it with your own eyes. "Y/N wait-"

You stormed off to the Sumeru City streets heart beating like crazy. You stopped 20 meter away from alhaitham, hiding in the corner. You saw him... his betrayal as he caressed another womans cheek. She was beautiful, long silky hair and shining eyes, thin and elegance body. Your eyes watering slowly as you watched him lean for a kiss.

You ran from there. As fast as you can, till your lungs gave up. Entering your shared home to pack things up, you looked at youself on the mirror. Hair that looked horrible, sleepy eyes, body that looked like a frog in your eyes. But her... she was beautiful unlike you. You cried for the first time after years, wiping your tears as you packed your things. Leaving your room with no trace of you.

Kaveh on the other hand, explaining alhaitham that you saw everything. Panic rising in him he ran to the shared house. Walking inside slowly, trying to hear if there were any noise. "Y/N? I.. I came home?" He shouted. Feeling weird like the house got colder and quiet. His heart still beating like crazy he rushed to your room only to be faced with a tidy bed, empty warddrobe and empty studying desk.

This was a cruel joke on him right? You were joking, pranking him to make him regret for not telling you sooner it was for a mission right? His hand covering his face as he falls on his knees calling out your name a few times before breaking down.

Looking around trying to find anything that belonged to you, walking inside the house he spotted a letter.

My beloved lover,

I had to leave our home because my heart was hurting too much. Sometimes, I saw things that made me scared—little moments that maybe meant nothing but felt big and heavy to me. I've always struggled with feeling good enough, and these fears made me feel even smaller.

Leaving wasn’t about anger; it was about being so overwhelmed by sadness that staying felt impossible. I never wanted to run away, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe I wasn’t what you needed.

I'm really sorry for any pain my leaving has caused. I hope one day we can understand each other better, but for now, I need some space to work through these feelings.

Take care,

[Your Name]

That was it, you left without giving a hint where you went. Guilt eating alhaitham up. For him you were perfect, you were everything he needed. Even your silence made him happy and peacefull. He was never good at showing his emotions and expressions but when you were with him he felt like he didnt need to force himself. You understood everything about him.

He lay down on your bed, a faint scent inhaling as he slightly squezzing the letter in his hand. Murmuring your name, begging to the teyvat to bring you back to him.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

"Surely, there must be a reason for your visit," the villain purred. They put their elbows on the table and their head on their hands, cupping their own cheeks. "Unfortunately, I don't believe you're visiting just to see my pretty face."

The hero cocked their head.

"Why not?"

The villain looked effortlessly attractive. They always did, but today from this angle, in this pose, with those clothes…The hero’s brain betrayed them over and over again. Every now and then, their thoughts circled around their nemesis, even if they didn’t get to see each other that week.

Or perhaps, especially then.

"Because you only ever show up when you want something from me," the villain said. Although their smirk was of flirty nature and although their hand was reaching for the hero again, the disappointment in their voice didn't go by unnoticed.

It was true. In the same sense that avoiding eating the forbidden fruit was true.

The villain touched the hero's shoulder. "...you got some lint here..."

It was a poor excuse to touch them, but the hero preferred it when their nemesis had to justify it. They preferred building walls around themselves and denying this part of their personality — this horrible part that wanted the villain.

They enjoyed the flirting. The soft touches. But there couldn't be more than that.

"You know I'm busy," the hero murmured. They grabbed the villain's wrist before they could pull back their arm. "But I can totally understand if you miss me. I will arrange something."

"You make me sound desperate."

"Aren't you desperate for me?"

"Oh, please. As if I want you in that way," the villain said. Under the table, their foot was already trying to find a way to the hero's bare shins, contradicting their words easily.

Admittedly, the hero couldn't help but feel guilty. It was true that they had come to the villain once again to beg for information. It was also true that they avoided them unless it was absolutely necessary.

It was a stupid habit. A pathetic one. Something the hero had picked up in their childhood, something that had manifested when they had decided to become a hero.

No one was allowed to get too close. Least of all their supposed nemesis. Even if that nemesis wasn't a threat on the battlefield anymore. For now.

They couldn't recall when the flirting had started. The villain had always been someone very talkative, someone who could talk for hours. And apparently, in some way, this had rubbed off on them.

"Everyone in this city wants me in that way," the hero mumbled.

And it surprised even themselves that they’d said it out loud. For whatever reason, they tried to get some jealousy out of the villain. It wasn't fair to the villain, the hero knew that. It wasn't fair to flirt and make all sorts of promises, just to disappoint them in the end.

The hero was a mess, they could admit that much. People getting too close always hurt.

It was always too painful.

"I suppose they want all the perfect parts of you. The flawlessness." The villain smiled and swayed their head from left to right. The hero looked at them, trying to ignore their increasing heartbeat. "I bet no one wants all those ugly details. All those late nights, those bloody hands, that emotionless shell around you…"

Suddenly, the hero's eyes widened.

They hadn't come here to be humiliated. Or to be insulted. They knew they very far from—

"But, just so you know. If I was into you and if I wanted you in that way, I'd adore those parts. I would adore and cherish them. Because I would have chosen you with every single thing that comes with you." The villain winked and the hero's throat dried out. "You are not closer to perfection than any other human being. And I am probably the only person in this city who not only notices but also accepts this."

The hero's hand was in theirs and they led it to their lips, pressing a soft kiss to their enemy's knuckles.

The hero couldn't think. They couldn't…could not really…

"But we were talking about something else, were we not?" the villain asked.

The hero couldn't answer. They felt like crying.

"The information you wanted?"

"Oh…yeah, yes. Sorry. Long night."

Both of them knew that was a very cheap lie.

[swordsandholly]

Mother’s Day Blues

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Reader

Word Count: ~900 unedited

Johnny loves Mother’s Day. You hate it.

MDNI | cw: vent fic, big mommy issues, mentioned childhood spanking, ED mention

Johnny loves Mother’s Day.

You hate it.

He watches you stand in the card aisle, shifting side to side, reading every single card. Snatching them up and shutting them hard just to shove them back into their little displays - huffing and growing ever more agitated as you go.

“It doesnnae matter what ye pick, bonnie.” He tries to be encouraging. “They’re all nice.”

“That’s the problem.” You mutter in a voice far too weak and bitter for his liking. “Why can’t they make one that just says, like, ‘You sure are my mom!’”

“Sweetheart…” Johnny knows you’re trying to cover it with humor, but the way your brow furrows breaks his heart. He sets a hand on your waist, pointing to a very generic, sparkly joke card. You nod and take it, grimacing still.

He hates it - hates watching you chew your lip and your hands shake while you pace back and forth before the 10 am alarm you set to call your mom goes off. Hates holding you while you sob in his lap after because of course she had to ask in a pathetic, whiny voice ‘is everything okay with us’ when she knows damn well it isn’t. When she won’t ever try to fix it or admit that she fucked up.

You carry the effects of the way she raised you everywhere you go. Johnny sees them all - knows them all by heart. Every time he notices you cutting portions and weighing yourself more than normal. When you use cruel words to describe your body. Every time you don’t tell him that you’re upset with him because you’re frightened of his reaction - body shaking so hard that you look like an earthquake personified. The lack of confidence in your interactions with others, how easily you fold and are ready to people please. Every time you get that glazed over, far away look in your eye after you remember something a little too clearly.

You only took him to meet her once. He’s never wanted to punch a woman like that before.

Johnny is, and always has been, of the opinion that you should cut contact. Cold turkey. Block her on everything and leave it be. You’ve argued about it more times than he can count, going back and forth about what would happen if you did. What the worst outcome could be.

“It’s not like she hit me…” You mutter.

“Spankin’ is hittin’, love.” Johnny takes your hands. “And it doesnnae matter if she did or not. She was rotten tae ye in every other way.”

You just get quiet. Tears well up in your eyes and what is he supposed to do when you get like that? Keep fighting? No, never. It’s your decision anyway. He just hates what she does to you and, by extension, how it effects your relationship with his mother.

Every time you visit is perfectly cordial. His mum loves you - sees you as her own. You’re Johnny’s after all. Her only son. You want to love her. You really, really do but when she says ‘I love you’ it feels like you’re going to die. Every time she hugs you he can see the way your shoulders tense up by your ears and your lips purse.

They’ve talked about it. Johnny and his mum. The horrified look she gave him when he told her only the little he knew at the time was more than enough. Bless her. She made it her goal to be the perfect mother-in-law. Never overbearing, never too needy. To love you quietly and meet you where you’re at.

He’s cried over it a few times - though he’d never admit it - watching her treat you with the gentle hands and words you deserve. It breaks his heart as you try to figure out what to do with it.

Johnny has known he wants to marry you for a long time. You’ve both talked about it, both made it known that you’re fully committed to one another forever. It’s just hard to plan a proposal when he isn’t sure how long he’ll be in town. He got the ring months ago and has just been holding onto it for the right time. So, in the end, he decides to be a bit spontaneous with it. His whole family is going on a beach day, and you look so pretty in your little cover up dresses.

His little nieces and nephews gladly help him set up a little path leading to a circle of flowers. His sister brings her big, fancy camera to take pictures while his other sister hints at you to wear something cute and invited you to get your nails done a week before.

Thank god you’re one of the most oblivious people on the planet.

Of course you say yes, tackling him down into the sand while you both cry. He knew you’d say yea but it still fills his heart to bursting. He buries his face in your neck to hide it, but he can’t stop it. You’re his, always and forever.

As the family congratulates and talks, his mother finally comes up and tenderly takes both your hands in hers.“Welcome to the family, love. It’s so nice to have another daughter.”

Johnny freezes, watching for your reaction.

Your eyes turn to saucers, a quiet hiccup shaking your chest before a full on sob follows. You bury your face in your hands and she wraps her arms around your shoulders. Johnny grabs onto you both.

She might not be your mum by blood, and you may never truly open up to her, but either way you deserve a good mother. He’s more than happy to share his own. Maybe someday you’ll heal. Little by little, by the same gentle hands that raised him.

A/N: Sorry for the angst but Mother’s Day has me fucked up.

[back2bluesidex]

Fortnight - JJK

Pairing: Jungkook X Fem Reader

Theme: Fluff, angst if you squint really hard

Wordcount: 1k+

Summary: "I touched you for only a fortnight."

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption. and literally nothing else.

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: This is pathetically self-indulged! Replace Jungkook with me and put @phenomenalgirl9 on Jimin's place and boom! it's my own damn story!

Masterlist | Patreon

“Now, if you don’t talk to her, how will you know what her reaction will be?” Jimin whines nudging Jungkook with his elbow. 

“I don’t know hyung. What if- what if she thinks I’m a creep? That I stalk her or something? That I am trying to throw myself at her?” Jungkook lays his head on the headrest of the semi-comfortable couch-seat of their regular bar. 

The fluorescent light above his head makes him feel more drunk than he actually is. 

Even though he is here, sitting beside one of his best friends, enjoying a Saturday - his mind is actually miles and miles away, with you. 

You - someone, he doesn’t even know the name of. 

You take the same subway as him, well, only sometimes. 

His 10 to 6 job as a drone engineer pushes him into a tight schedule where he chooses to catch a specific subway to come back home at a very particular time and spend the rest of the day away from work and the annoying sound of drones.

He doesn’t recall the first day he saw you, nor if you had a special effect on him, what he knows is that you were one of the faces he got to see everyday. 

But before he even realized it himself - your face was what he looked for in the mass of eyes, noses and lips. 

Again he can’t pinpoint that one day when he suddenly started looking for you. But now he realizes that you don’t travel by the same damn subway everyday, unlike him. And that upsets him a lot.

So he doesn’t see you for most of the week, sometimes even goes a fortnight without having a sight. And when he does.. His heart beats start raising so much that he fears the organ would jump out of his chest and fall into your hands. 

He is obnoxious in a way. He knows he is a people-magnet and he can pull anyone towards himself. He knows that he makes tons of head turns on a single day. But.. his charms fall short when it comes to you. 

You are so beautiful! God! 

Your delicate features, dark hair swept up in a messy bun, your expressive eyes… he loves it all. He loves it all so much that whenever he sees you, he can’t look away. And he is sure you can feel him ogling at you too. 

There are times when he had several eye-contacts with you, which means you were staring at him too. 

That’s the only positive news in this entire ordeal.  

Jimin shakes Jungkook’s body vehemently, “are you even listening to me?” 

“No.” Jungkook says briefly as he sits up and sips on his drink. He diverts the conversation in another way so that he could stop feeling like a shit because there is no way you are single. He is a fool, he is pathetic with that little crush on you, a woman he doesn’t even know the name of.

“You sure don’t want a ride?” Jimin asks again, slurring a bit. 

“Yep. There must be a ton of traffic at this hour. I will take the subway.” he reasons, checking the subway schedule on his phone. 

Jimin wiggles his eyebrow, opening the taxi door. 

“What?” Jungkook narrows his own set of brows as he waves of the elder’s suspicion, “hyung! Come’on it’s Saturday. And I want to take the subway so that I can sober up a bit. There is absolutely no other reason.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Get home safely. Bye.” Jimin settles inside the taxi but his grin doesn’t die. 

Jungkook laughs at his antics. 

Oh how he wishes he could see you. But he knows about this setting more than anyone else and the subway station he needs to access today is two stops away from the one you usually get in. Besides, it’s already past your usual time. 

He starts walking towards the station popping on his earpods in order to avoid the nagging voice of his brain or maybe heart.

The next subway comes in three minutes. 

Jungkook taps the tip of his vans on the glazed floor of the subway station. The alcohol buzzing in his brain makes the waiting period a lot easier than normal days. 

He whips his head up and turns it to cut through the haze a bit. 

And his eyes stop at one particular face. 

It’s you. 

It’s really you. 

There is no fucking way you are here! 

Is he dreaming? Is it the alcohol or is it really you? 

Before he knows what he is doing, he starts walking towards you and stands right behind your body. 

You are in much more casual clothes than normal days, so you are probably coming back from a day out with your friends or boyfriend or girlfriend even. 

And as usual - you look beautiful. 

He stands right behind you, just staring at the back of your head and thanking his lucky stars for listening to his quiet prayers. 

The train arrives. He walks through the door shadowing you and stands just like he was in the station. 

There are no seats left so he doesn’t even entertain the thoughts of sitting and nursing his pounding head and heart. 

He just stands staring at the curve of your neck, biting on his lower lip while contemplating if he should talk to you or not. 

He was so busy staring at your hair that he didn’t even notice you looking back at him through the glass of the subway window. 

When he finally looks up, his eyes meet yours and he sees a ghost of a smile playing on your lips. 

“You look good today.” he voices, gathering all the courage he has inside his body, mind and soul. 

Your smile widens, “so do you.” 

“This is Jungkook, by the way.” his heart is about to explode when you turn your head to meet his eyes directly. 

“Hi, jungkook. I’m Y/N.” you reply, spots of red appearing on your cheeks. 

Jungkook doesn’t know where things will lead - but he knows, right now, he is happy for sure.

Permanent Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie @mikrokookiex @jjk174 @lallataegi @savageyoongi @jwnghyuns @parapiop7 @futuristicenemychaos

[houseofripley]

Hotel Hell - Part Two

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

Part One Pinterest

WARNINGS: SMUT, 18+, Fighting, Shoving, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, MAKEUP SEX

WORD COUNT: 3,812

A/N: omg i am sorry this took me years to finish, life has been busy but it should calm down soon. i got such a good request the other day and i haven't gotten it off my mind so i will start that tmrw if i have time. also i proofread this at 2am so please ignore any mistakes lol

“The Brutalization Chamber? You want to know what The Brutalization Chamber is?” The Irish man laughed out, his eyebrows raising once you turned your gaze towards him. 

An expression of curiosity displayed on your face as you repeated the name of the supposed ‘chamber’. It was obvious to the man that you wanted to know more.

The man began making his way down the stairs, “No offense sweetheart…but I don’t really think this is the place for a girl li-” He tried to speak before being cut off.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“I don’t really care what you think sir, I want you to show me what's down there.” You chirped out, following the male down the flight of stairs, your hand hovering over your aching ribs.

“Well shit, if you insist,” The guy chuckled out, “Feisty, she’ll like you.” He muttered under his breath as he opened the door. 

She’ll like you…was he talking about the same ‘she’ you had spent your night with? The same woman who just got done unleashing pure cruelty onto you? The same woman who disappeared into this exact building moments ago?

“Name’s Finn by the way,” He mentioned, “It’s just us, the big boss is probably around here somewhere as well.” Finn spoke as you scanned the room looking for ‘the big boss’.

Grimy was the only way to portray the room. Rope lights scattered across the ceiling, some were dim while others flickered. There were freezing concrete walls with cracks littered all over. A red neon sign displaying the letters ‘TBC’. A blood stained ring sat taking up a quarter of the room. Various pieces of gym equipment and punching bags were compressed into a room off to the side. 

“So…just a gym?” You questioned the man, there was no sign of Rhea.

“Nah, it’s a little more than just a gym love…think of it as a fight club. A fight club with a fuck ton of money involved.” Finn stated leading into a room the size of a walk-in closet, the room seemingly being a pathetic excuse of a nurses office. 

You leaned against the door frame while Finn babbled on as he started unpacking his bag, “People come to us in desperate need for money. They’re entered into our roster, put in the ring and bet on. If they win their match they get fifty percent of all bets placed. Bunch of sick wealthy men love wasting their fortune on this shit.”

“Don’t you think this is just a tad bit illegal?” You chuckled, sending a small wave of pain to your ribs.

“Eh I don’t worry about that too often,” Finn shrugged, digging around his duffle. “Rhea’s not too worried about the legalities when there's this much money involved, she can pay her way out of damn near anything.”

Rhea.

Despite your pain you perked up at the mention of Rhea’s name although you stayed silent.

“Rhea would like you, you’re quiet but there's just something about you, like there’s a fire inside you.” Finn mentioned, pointing at you. “I would introduce you to her but earlier this afternoon one of her top guys lost her like seven thousand. She stormed off to god knows where. Another one of her main guys has a big match in about half an hour. Going up against some new kid we’ve never seen so I’m sure she’s busy worrying her ass off.”

You heard a scoff echo from the main room as footsteps approached. “Jesus fucking christ Finn! Do you ever shut your goddamn mouth?” You heard Rhea sarcastically laugh trying to cover her anger.

You slowly turned to face Rhea, examining her tensed jaw and narrowed eyes. Reality had finally washed over you. The weight of Rhea’s actions flooded into your brain. You couldn’t figure out if you felt more betrayal or anger in the moment.

“Ah! Rhea mate!” Finn exclaimed, trying to divert from Rhea’s critiques. “I was just telling this young lady how much you’d like her…I never caught her name though.” 

Your face turned to the ground as you tried to mutter out your name. “We’ve met.” Rhea butted in, her voice was fully flat-devoid of any sign of emotion. That’s when the regret hit you. 

You shouldn't have come here.

“I should leave…it seems you guys have a busy night.” You muttered quietly. Rhea took a firm grasp on your forearm, “That can wait, let’s go have a chat.” Rhea said as her head motioned towards what you assumed to be her office.

“No, I-I can come back another time, I really don’t want to be a bother.” You barely managed to stutter out while Rhea’s middle and pointer finger of her opposite hand guided your chin up, forcing you to look at her. “I said let’s go have a chat.” Rhea commanded, her grip on your arm tightening. 

You reluctantly followed the woman as she dragged you in the direction of her office. You knew you were in for it big time.

“You are a fucking insane bitch! What could have possibly made you think it was okay to fucking show up to this place?!” Rhea lashed out at you the moment the latches of her door clicked together. She dropped your arm before shoving you towards the other side of the room. You had been lucky enough to catch your balance as you were just inches away from barreling into the concrete walls.

“I just wanted to learn more! I wanted to figure you out Rhea! Can you blame me for wanting to figure out why you’re so angry and cruel every time I see you?” You said loudly, your voice filled with hurt.

“That doesn't give you the goddamn right to follow me to where I work! You don’t fucking get it, these people I work with are dangerous and I don’t want you getting caught up in this bullshit!” Rhea retorted out as her breaths began picking up speed.

“What makes you think I’m so incompetent that I’m incapable of being around danger?! You put me in danger nearly every fucking time I see you! ” Your hands flew around as you yelled at the woman, tears accumulating in your eyes. 

Rhea began inching towards you, a look of irritation covering her face. “I don’t fucking put you in danger!”

“Yes you fucking do! You have no idea how many bruises you’ve left me with. The other month you choked me till I passed out, yet you didn’t stop fucking me to check if I was okay! For fucks sake Rhea, an hour ago you left me bleeding and collapsed to the floor!!” All hell had broken loose between the two of you as your tears started escaping from you.

“You told me you could take it! I don’t get why you’re bitching and moaning all of the sudden.” Rhea continued arguing.

Your fist crashed down onto Rhea’s nearby desk, “I can take it rough, but you can’t keep disappearing after being borderline torturous! You’re so damn immature!!” Your screaming matched showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

“I’m immature? You’re the one that followed me to my job and is throwing a tantrum right now!” Rhea’s voice thundered around the room. 

“You don’t get it Rhea! I’m a fucking person and you dont give a shit about me! Why don’t you fucking care?!” You yelled through broken sobs as you started unleashing your sadness and anger onto Rhea, pushing and beating on her chest. 

Rhea made no attempt to stop you. She made no moves, just allowing you to inflict your pain onto her. 

Once your hands had dropped to your sides in exhaustion and your breaths became heavier as you tried calming yourself down Rhea quietly mumbled, “I do care…”

“But you don’t…” You looked up at her with wide eyes, lifting your shirt. You exposed your aching torso displaying your cut up skin, dried blood pooled around your laceration and the letters of Rhea’s name carved into your skin. “Someone who cares doesn't do this and run away.” You quietly said, your voice strained from the screaming match.

The regret in her eyes was apparent as she darted her eyes away from you. The realization she had gone too far had hit her hard, feeling as if she was being crashed into by an eighteen-wheeler. 

Her vulnerability was short lived, Rhea quickly repressed her display of emotion, replacing it with her regular cold and emotionless stare. She had to put on her tough guy attitude. It was her only safety blanket. Emotions are for the weak, Rhea could never be weak.

“You get worse every time I see you, something has to change Rhea…” You breathed out, trying to articulate your speech as you lowered your shirt back down. “If you can’t fix this behavior I’m done.” 

“You know you don’t mean that.” Rhea sighed as she ran her hand through her black hair. She didn’t want to lose you but she could never admit that. “I need to think about…everything. Just give me a some t-” 

Rhea was cut off by a deep voice from outside the door. “Ten minutes till the bell Rhea.” Rhea rolled her eyes and made her way to the door, “Just give me some fucking time Damian! And go get a roll of gauze from Finn. Quickly.” Rhea demanded after opening the door just a sliver. 

You clenched your jaw as you sensed Rhea’s levels of anger were once again rising. The last thing you wanted was to end up back at square one with her. You couldn’t handle another argument with her. Not tonight at least. 

The pair of you stood in silence as you waited for the man to return. Once he had arrived he opened the door, handing Rhea the roll of fabric. His eyes curiously examining you through the crack in the door. 

“I’ll be out in a minute…” Rhea aggressively muttered before closing the door. She mumbled your name under her breath before walking to her desk.

 “You’re lucky Finn showed up early, only God knows what could have happened to you if one of the other guys showed up before him.” Rhea grunted as she unlocked a drawer and began rummaging through the mess inside. 

What is it about her?

“Why such a dark line of work? What made you choose this of all things?” You questioned, you were terrified to set her off but on the other hand you wanted to push for answers from her. It was the only way to get your foot into the door of her life.

Rhea stumbled her way towards you avoiding eye contact, a tube of antibacterial gel in her hand as she shrugged. “Not something you choose. You’re born into it and can’t escape it, you just have to accept it and make the best out of it.” She mumbled while she lifted your shirt up. 

Rhea applied a small glob of the antibacterial gel to her finger while she lowered herself to her knees, becoming face to face with your shredded skin. The woman began dabbing the gel onto your skin causing  you to let out a small hiss from the pain.

Once she finished applying all of the gel she wiped the residue from her fingers onto her pant leg and grabbed the roll of gauze. Rhea cleared her throat before speaking up, “Just stay in here for a while, I can take you home after this match.”

“I’m perfectly capable of walking home by myself, Rhea.” You stated, watching Rhea carefully wrap the gauze around your waist.

“I’m walking you home and that’s final.” Rhea stood her ground, “Seriously though, just stay in here. I’ll be back.”

You weren’t planning on fighting about this with her, deciding to keep your mouth shut you let her take the win. “Fine, whatever.” You gave in as Rhea tied a knot in the gauze to hold it in place. 

“Shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes.” Was all Rhea had said as she stood up. Nothing else left her lips as she exited the room. 

No apology?

You groaned as you sat down in Rhea’s large chair. You blankly stared at the wall for several minutes before your mind started to wander. Exploring anything that popped into your head. Places, things, people, Rhea. 

If you were being honest with yourself you were doubting the woman's ability to change her ways. You assumed she would most likely be this way her whole life, although you prayed she had it in herself to change. She had the potential to be great if she would put her pride aside.

It wasn't long until the cheers of the crowd on the opposite side of the door had started drowning out your thoughts. 

You wanted to catch a glimpse of the madness. You stood up from the large chair, your feet scuffing the ground as you strolled to the door

You cracked the door open, taking a peek of the ring surrounded by a flock of rowdy men that were yelling. The large man you made eye contact with earlier was in the ring brutalizing a much smaller guy who couldn’t even be older than twenty-five. He was putting on one hell of a fight but it was clear he stood no chance.

Rhea was the only woman there, she was stood right against the ring watching intensely. She had caught your image in the corner of her eyes. Her face turned in your direction, she tilted her head as if she was asking you what the hell you were doing.

You mouthed the word sorry to her before quickly closing the door. 

Fifteen excruciatingly boring minutes had passed, the cheers had dispersed into muffled conversations. Rhea had finally arrived back in her office. She seemed content which you enjoyed. 

“You ready to go?” Rhea asked, you answered with a simple nod.

As the two of you made your way out of the building Rhea exchanged goodbyes with some of the strange men.

The entire walk was silent, the both of you reflecting on the weird night you had been through together. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was almost peaceful. Having Rhea in your presence when she was somewhat calm was pleasant. You wanted to hold onto this peacefulness for the rest of your life.

It took you by surprise when Rhea insisted on taking you directly to your door instead of just dropping you off in the front of the large building and ditching. 

“You didn’t need to take me all the way up here.” You quietly mumbled as you unlocked the door to your apartment. “Lot’s of bad people around this time of night.” Rhea muttered as your door swung open. 

You turned around to face the woman, her eyes peering over your head, scanning the entry of your apartment. “There’s bad people around all times of the day. I’m used to it.” You said quietly, her eyes returning to you.

An awkward silence filled the air as the both of you gazed upon each other. Rhea began rubbing her neck, “Uh…I should go. I’m gonna go.” She feebly stated before turning away from you, quickly walking down the hall. She had stormed off before you could even speak up.

Still no apology?

—

Multiple days had passed. Rhea had made no contact yet. You spent a concerning amount of time just staring at Rhea’s contact in your phone, debating if you should press the call button. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

She’d call if she cared enough.

It felt as if life had paused, your days seemed empty. The busy streets of New York City felt devoid of any livelihood. The live music that took place at work sounded muffled. The flavor of your favorite foods had been stripped away. Once colorful flowers sold down at the street market now sat dull.

Days just painfully repeated. 

Tonight you had the night off, your only plans were to stare out the window of your bedroom and pray for a text from Rhea. 

You sat criss-cross at the edge of your bed twiddling your thumbs, your mind seemingly empty as you stared into the windows of the skyscraper across the street when the sound of a knock echoed down your short hall.

Groaning in annoyance as you got up you began making your way to the door, chewing the inside of your cheek as your feet shuffled below you. 

You weren't sure who you were expecting to be in the hall but it completely caught you by surprise when you swung the door open to see the dark haired woman waiting for you.

Without a word Rhea launched herself onto your lips, the force causing you to be pushed back a few inches.

Jesus Christ.

This felt like more than just a kiss, it had an intense amount of passion intertwined into it. Rhea’s hands gripped onto your waist as you backed into the apartment, her foot kicking the door behind her closed.

She had never kissed you in this way before. Before tonight you had only received measly pecks while the two of you had sex. It was never emotional.

Rhea slowly pulled away from your lips, both of your breaths were heavy as she finally spoke, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Finally.

“God, I’ve treated you like shit and I have been such a dick. It’s been the only thing on my mind. You don’t deserve that, It’s not okay.” Rhea began rambling as you stared into each other's eyes. “I get it if you never want to see me again but please just give me a chance, I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll get my temperament under control, I’ll go to therapy, whatever you say I will do it.”

“Rhea-” You whispered, trying to calm her down but she continued her rant. 

“I want to know you, more than just your body. I wanna know everything, The good, the bad, the boring…I wanna know what pisses you off and what makes you cry. I don’t know why I kept you a stranger for so long and I’m sorry for that.”

You led Rhea into your small living room as you listened to her rambling. You took a seat in your chaiser lounge and ushered her to sit in front of you as her speech continued on. “I don’t know why I ran away…I think it's cause I didn't want to hurt you. But I did hurt you, so badly. I don’t want to run away anymore, I had no right to ever hurt you the way I did, just for me to leave you alone right after. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done and I’ll never forgive myself for it. It’s just that I-”

“Rhea!” You slightly raised your voice causing Rhea to finally close her mouth. You leaned closer to her, placing a quick and gentle kiss on her lips. “You’re okay, don’t worry.” You comforted the woman, softly chuckling.

“I didn’t interrupt your night did I?” Rhea asked, slightly nervous as she scootched up closer to you. You shook your head no as a smile creeped on your face.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to end up in a heated makeout session, your hands roaming over one another's clothing. Rhea groaned your name against your lips before pulling back just a few centimeters. 

“Please let me show you how sorry I am.” She practically pleaded, her eyes full of desperation, “Yes please” you quietly giggled, your eyes adoring the woman's face. The second Rhea heard the word yes echo from your mouth her lips went straight for your neck, causing a whimper to escape from you. 

Rhea took her time as she kissed upon your neck, carefully leaving soft love bites every so often, marking the skin a flushed pink shade. Her lips only leaving your skin as she pulled off your sweater before she began peckering kisses against your collarbones.

Her hands crept behind your back, unclasping your bra and pulling it from your chest. Your fingers grazed upon Rhea’s tense shoulders as she left a path of kisses down your torso.

As Rhea’s face reached the base of your stomach, her eyes fixated on your face as if she was asking for your blessing. You gave her a nod before lifting your hips into the air, allowing her to slide your sweatpants off your legs. 

 “Rhea, please,” You whined out while Rhea’s fingers toyed with the seam of your panties. Rhea grinned to herself as she slowly shed the final layer of clothing off your body. 

The woman wasted no time connecting her mouth to your heat, causing you to let out a breathy moan. “So fucking beautiful…” Rhea praised against your skin.

Truthfully, her tongue felt like heaven as it worked its way around your wetness. Rhea didn't want to rush you. This wasn't for her, she just wanted to make sure you knew she had the ability in her to change for the better.

Your breaths picked up their pace as Rhea’s hand inched its way closer to your core. Her ring and middle finger traced a circle around the perimeter of your entrance before slowly being pushed into you.

“Shit,” You whined out, your back arching as both Rhea’s tongue and digits worked their magic on you. Although you enjoyed roughhousing with the woman, you undoubtedly appreciated the amount of care Rhea was putting into you.

You were a whimpering mess under Rhea’s touch, and she loved every small sound that escaped from your mouth.

“More! Please, I can take it!” You begged for more of her. Rhea obliged, sliding her pointer finger into your tightness causing you to roll your eyes back as her fingers filled your insides.

“That’s it baby,” Rhea preached quietly when your hips began to rock against her fingers, your moans filling the room. “Such a good girl for me.” She added on before her tongue got back to sailing over your clit, her fingers picking up their pace.

Your legs tightened around Rhea’s head as your orgasm quickly approached. “C’mon sweet girl, let go.” Rhea’s encouraging words were muffled, your walls clenched around her curling fingers. 

“Fuck Rhea!” You squealed out as the knot that filled your stomach released onto Rhea’s fingers. Your hips twitched into the air as the fingers inside of you helped you ride out your climax. 

Rhea was grinning ear-to-ear as she slowly pulled her fingers out of your hole. She groaned in pleasure, licking her fingers clean. 

She soon brought her face to meet yours, her plumped lips giving your jaw a kiss before whispering in your ear.

“How’s that for an apology, hm?”

Chapter Taglist: @babybatlover @whiteleoqueen @luvvleah @lovingperson1

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.37

Summary: Wednesday knows, without a doubt, that you weren't the suspect everyone thought you were. And your date nights were getting rather interesting, but she's not entirely convinced about this new date idea.

Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: swearing, grief, past trauma, child abuse (in the past) Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“Don’t even think about it.”

Wednesday sighed and pulled her hand back from the bag you were refusing to let her carry. Unfortunately, it wasn’t because you were being chivalrous. It was the second week after your therapist had gone missing, and you were still upset with her. She didn’t like it.

“I have already apologised,” she said as she walked behind you. “What more do you want from me?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said in a faux sing-song voice that she had heard you use with Ash before. “Maybe to have my girlfriend not assume I’m stupid enough to kill my therapist?”

“No one has claimed you were stupid,” she said.

“And yet no one has agreed that I wouldn’t kill my therapist,” you finished a little too quickly.

She followed behind you, trying to open the door but you wouldn’t move aside for her. Instead, you turned the doorknob with your elbow after more than a few failed attempts and entered the apartment. At least Wednesday had the opportunity to close the door behind you both.

“No one believes you killed him,” she said as she tried to help you put up groceries. All it took was one look before she stepped back. If you were determined to be so stubborn, then she was determined to let you.

“Oh yeah?” You said; you practically threw the apples into the fruit drawer. “Because Bianca didn’t seem too disbelieving of it.”

“Bianca is ignorant,” she said quickly. “Additionally, she never claimed it was you, simply questioned your whereabouts.”

You threw the milk into the fridge next; Wednesday would need to make sure you didn’t bust the container. “Which I specifically told you before I left the apartment.”

Wednesday wasn’t foolish. Even though she truly felt you were being absurd, she was not foolish enough to continue the argument when you became so agitated. When you placed your hands on your hips and furrowed your brows. She would never claim to be an expert at reading physical cues, but she certainly knew yours. Or at the very least, she knew yours well enough.

“Anger metre?” She asked.

“Immeasurable.” You sighed and looked down at the floor. “An 8.”

Your hands fell from your hips rather pathetically. It was a look Wednesday hadn’t seen since those years at Nevermore. Back when you were a little too nervous to talk to her like you did now. She remembered it vividly; every time you would try to talk back, she would shut you down, and you would stand there awkwardly like a scolded puppy before walking off.

It almost warmed her cold heart to see you hadn’t grown out of it.

“Am I really that untrustworthy?” You asked; your voice was soft. Horrifically so. “Do people really think I would kill someone?”

Wednesday wasn’t prepared for an emotional conversation. She had been attempting to get you to relax about the accusations, but she hadn’t mentally prepared herself for what could come of it. A foolish thing, she knew; you were becoming more open about your feelings when they upset you so terribly. It was something she had encouraged in you even though she had never truly thought to grow with you in that regard.

There was no better time than the present, she presumed.

“Can we-,” she sighed, blinking twice before looking back at you, “-can we continue this in the living room?”

You raised a brow and tilted your head.

“You’re letting all the cold air out,” she said.

You frowned before your eyes slowly grew larger. It only took a moment before you shut the door to the fridge, stopping the incessant warning beep that came more often than not when you were in the kitchen. She thought back to when it had started; she had lied to you about the electric bill staying steady after you had panicked. Clearly you took bills more seriously than she had previously thought.

After hearing that it was okay, you hadn’t intentionally left the fridge open each time. It was simply how you were; getting distracted, finally free of the constant nagging and worry about the bills. Yes, Wednesday should have known you would be hyper-aware of such a thing, but she hadn’t imagined you would lose your focus that quickly.

“Come on,” you said quietly, grabbing Wednesday’s hand and pulling her into the living room.

Your hand was warm in hers. Even after all this time, after so much physical contact with you, your body heat would surprise her. There was no reason, she had grown accustomed to it long ago. Whether it was simply your hand in hers, your hand pressed against the small of her back, or your body curling around hers at night. You were warm, almost painfully warm, and it was sensational.

Wednesday sat on the couch opposite you, turning just enough to face you. On the other side, you crossed your legs on the couch, looking like an overgrown child. Or she supposed it was more reminiscent of a rather large dog not understanding quite how large they were. Behind you, your wings strained against the confines of not only the loosened harness, but the jacket you had yanked on earlier in the day.

“Do you think I would kill someone.” It wasn’t so much a question anymore; any hesitancy in your voice had long faded. “Be honest.”

Yes. Yes, she did believe you would kill someone. She remembered the fear and anger in your eyes back at Nevermore when that rogue werewolf had gone after you and Eugene. If it had gone after Eugene, you would have killed it without a moment’s hesitation. Add on to that the looks she had seen you give others who attempted to harm - whether emotionally or physically - any of your friends? Yes, she believed without question that you would kill someone.

But not, however, without reason.

“No,” Wednesday lied effortlessly.

“So you believe I didn’t do it?” You asked. “There’s no doubt in your mind that I’m innocent?”

“In this instance, yes.”

Your shoulders visibly relaxed at her words. There was an unusual relationship surrounding the both of you and your criminal proclivities. While you wouldn’t fault the other for their activities, you were both incredibly willing to tell the other one if they’re guilty. For instance, you had acknowledged her grave digging scandal from last year. Not with shame, but admiration. On the other hand, she would not hesitate to remind you of your underage, international murder scandal.

It was an exceptionally beautiful relationship.

“How’d you know it wasn’t me?” You asked, doe eyes looking up at her through your eyelashes. A faux innocence that did wonders for Wednesday’s imagination.

She shifted in her seat and inhaled deeply. “I taught you better than to leave evidence behind.” You snorted with laughter. “Leaving behind an entire foot is an amateur move at best.”

“And here I thought you’d say I was too kind for murder,” you said. 

Wednesday would have been content to allow the conversation to end as it was. As long as you believed she had faith in your innocence, there wasn’t much else to say. Your anger had appeared to dissipate and there was no need to dwell on the topic. After all, as long as she believed you, could you really be all that upset?

But you still didn’t move from your spot. In fact, you didn’t even move to grab the remote, or to put on some sort of noise in the background of the usual apartment noises. You simply sat there, legs crossed, playing with your fingers. Dread welled up in Wednesday’s chest; she knew those mannerisms.

“So,” you started, drawing the word out long enough for Wednesday to feel not only dread, but pure horror. “Wanna hear my new date idea?”

She sat up straighter, eyes moving around the apartment for nothing in particular. Oh. Well, that wasn’t quite what she had been expecting.

You waited for her to nod once. “Remember when I visited Nicky for Christmas?” She nodded again. “Well, I think I remembered something.”

Another pause as you recollected your thoughts.

“He had this notebook,” you held your hands out like you were holding the object, “or I guess it was a journal.” Your hands squeezed into fists. “He wrote everything in it, and I need to go find it.”

“Why would you need a journal?” She asked.

You sighed. “I think he wrote about everything our parents did and I just- I- I need to know.” Your pupils were blown. “I have to know what happened in that house.”

Wednesday still said nothing.

“I feel like I’m going crazy,” you said, “and I need to know what happened before I lose my fucking mind.”

The skin on your knuckles paled as you continued to ball your hands into fists. Even as her outward demeanour remained the same, Wednesday felt the effects of her heart rate increasing. She hadn’t needed Enid to explain what panicking was, though this was getting dangerously close to falling off the ledge of “panic” and into the pool of “desperation.”

If it had been anyone but you, she would have felt humiliated as she so-eagerly reached out to place one of her hands on top of yours. Her small, cold hand couldn’t cover your entire fist. Yet that didn’t seem to matter when she felt the tendons in your hand ease up, and you quickly turned it over until you could lock fingers with hers.

She would never admit such a thing aloud, at least not to anyone but you, but her chest warmed when she was the cause for your relief. It wasn’t the same warmth she felt for selfish reasons; it was vastly different from when she beat Bianca at a game of wits. This was more encompassing, more… more.

“How does that relate to your date idea?” Wednesday asked.

You looked up at her through your lashes again, though your smile was far more mischievous than earlier.

“Wednesday Addams,” you said in a tone that sent a shiver down her spine, “would you like to commit a B&E with me this weekend?”

Now that. That was wholly deserving of her own matching smile. You certainly knew the way to an Addams’ cold heart.

—---

It didn’t take long for Wednesday to realise just how long you had been planning this “date,” or at least something similar.

“They’re never home on weekends,” you said when you dropped the both of you into the yard. “They’re always either at the Catskills, or schmoozing their way through the Senate.”

She admired the way your wings tucked against your back. As much as she hated flying, she wouldn’t deny her fascination with the appendages, especially after the fact. Only when they were still could she see the muscle underneath the feathers and skin; muscle that had to be incredibly dense if they could carry you and her without a larger wingspan.

Maybe it was time she strapped you down and studied your musculature again. Clearly you had grown since the last time.

“There’s a risk doing this in broad daylight, is there not?” Wednesday asked when you stopped underneath a window.

You shook your head without looking away from the house. “Everyone in the area is still sleeping off their hangovers.”

“Cameras?”

“Fake.” You finally looked at her, a certain glimmer in your eye that had Wednesday’s stomach twisting into knots. “They always said just the belief someone was being watched was enough of a deterrent.”

“A foolish mistake,” Wednesday mumbled to herself.

“But helpful for us,” you said with a smile. “The window goes to my room,” you said, locking your fingers together to create a makeshift step. “I’ll hop in after you.”

“Silent alarms?” She asked as she placed her hands on your shoulders to steady herself. Your muscles shifted underneath your shirt when you started raising her closer to the window.

“Nope,” you said. “They rely on their fake security cameras and Eddy.”

“Who?” Wednesday asked, her hands stilling on the outside lock of the window. She adored you for saving the lock for her to pick.

“Our security guy,” you said. “He’s sweet, but shit at his job.”

The use of the word “our” did not escape Wednesday’s attention as she pulled herself through the now-unlocked window. It wasn’t often that you would lump yourself into the same group as your parents. More often than not, you attempted to distance yourself as much as possible, even going so far as to call them by their first names. Though she supposed, at the end of the day, they were still your parents no matter what they said or did. You loved too deeply to eliminate them completely.

For the sake of easing her curiosity, she slowly made her way around your room even as the gentle flap of your wings could be heard outside the window. The room itself reminded her of her own room back at Nevermore. Almost no personal items, nothing indicative of who you were. The only thing that would indicate anyone had even lived in the room was a singular photo in a frame; a photo of you and Nicky on a sailboat in a time long forgotten.

“Ready?” You asked over the sound of the window sliding shut. “It’s a quick trip down the hall, unless they moved everything to dad’s office.”

There was an air about you as you crossed the room. After Nicky, you had tended to roam, seemingly without any direction. If someone said jump, you would ask how high. But this was different; you looked like you had a mission and there was a clear physical determination in the set of your shoulders and the glint in your eye.

Wednesday reached out to grab your arm. Your muscles were taut, but quickly relaxed when you looked down at her. She hadn’t forgotten what you were both there to do; she was more than aware of the desperation you kept hidden behind a cocky smile.

It did nothing to ease the growing affection she had for you in that moment. Breaking and entering was a good look for you.

All it took was one firm tug on your arm to pull you down to face level. She simply had to lean forward slightly to kiss you. You were always like putty in her hands when she kissed you. In those moments, she swore you would have done anything she asked, no consideration required. It gave her a sense of control that you so often inadvertently took away.

When she pulled away - though, surprisingly, hesitantly - your eyes fluttered before opening fully. Her amazement at your reaction to her never eased over the days. Back at Nevermore, she had fully believed her body would become accustomed to how you reacted; she had never been so grateful to be wrong.

“If only my parents knew I just kissed a woman in their house,” you said softly, your words tumbling from your lips faster than normal. “They would die from shock.”

Wednesday ignored the flutter of her heart. “Lead the way so we can go home.”

“Yes ma’am,” you said with a tip of your invisible hat.

You manoeuvred your arm until you could hold her hand, pulling her after you on the way out of your room. Not the best way to stay inconspicuous, but Wednesday had become rather fond of the way her hand felt in yours, so she wouldn’t dare pull away.

The both of you peeked around the doorframe, looking both ways before exiting your room. The house was far too pristine for Wednesday’s liking. How could a family reside in a house with so little belongings? Where was the tapestry of history hanging from the walls? The artefacts that belonged to generations past to symbolise where you came from? Instead they were bare walls, minimalist in a way that even she found tasteless.

It only took a few steps down the hall before you attempted to open the door. The doorknob jiggled, but wouldn’t turn. With a sigh, you pulled Wednesday closer until she had full access to the lock. She was more than aware that you knew how to pick a lock; you had practiced it for weeks after she had mentioned it. But she appreciated your allowing her to have all the fun.

The lock was child’s play; your parents may have been intelligent, but they didn’t appear to take security very seriously. You pulled her with you into the room before turning and closing the door quietly, the click of the lock almost inaudible. She felt the cold air hit her palm as you pulled your hand away.

“Look for a journal,” you said. “A leather one with a black string tied around it.”

You didn’t wait for her to acknowledge your statement before digging around the room. And as much as Wednesday wanted to help, she couldn’t help but watch you. There was a gentleness to your rushed movements, almost as if you were worried you would break something. She knew you still grieved for Nicky even if you didn’t outwardly show it. His items were sacred to you in a way few things were.

“You okay?” You asked, and Wednesday was faced with the humiliation of getting caught staring.

“Of course,” she said, doing her best to sound as uninterested as possible. Unfortunately for her, you had broken her emotionless facade years ago.

Unlike your room, Nicky’s held some semblance of life. Select baseball cards were put in small plastic cases and propped up on the dresser. Under his bed was shoebox after shoebox, filled to the brim with comics, toy cars, marbles, and a menagerie of random Lego pieces. Toys that had been absent from your room.

“I can’t find it,” you said once you finished looking through every inch of the closet. “Just his stupid, stuffy clothes.”

Wednesday was kind enough to ignore the jacket you quickly tied around your waist.

“You mentioned it might be in your father’s office,” she said.

You sighed. “I guess I always did want to see what he hid in there.”

You didn’t grab her hand before leaving the room; she was thankful you couldn’t see her frown at the realisation. But she was quick to follow, closing the door as softly as you had. The new wooden flooring was a blessing, being far too new to make a sound when you snuck down the hall.

The hall opened up to a balcony overlooking the foyer. A large grandfather clock was almost directly below, tick tick ticking away; Wednesday couldn’t imagine hearing the sound every single hour of your life. The marble flooring was beautiful with its golden veins, though it was far from her sense of style. It all looked beyond pristine.

How had you ever managed to live in such a sterile environment?

“Come on,” you whispered, grabbing Wednesday’s hand to pull her away from her staring. “I want to get out of here.”

Your grip on her hand was a little too tight for comfort. You would never hurt her, she knew that, but it was certainly pushing the boundary. She tried to squeeze your hand, only barely managing to do so, but your grip lightened almost instantly.

As hard as she tried, there would be no way for Wednesday to know how you felt about being back in the house. You hadn’t let her know much about what had happened before and after the funeral, but she had seen the damage. The weight loss, the jittery movements, the avoidance. She would admit, she couldn’t recall a time where she had felt so uncomfortable in a location.

It was an unusual feeling, wondering how someone else would feel in a certain situation. It settled deep in her stomach, leaving behind a feeling of… emptiness. Was that how you felt, being in your childhood home once again? Knowing that there were no good memories, only sorrow and grief and a void that you could never fill?

“Y/N?”

You froze, standing up as straight as possible. Wednesday often forgot how tall you were; you took to slouching more often than not. She attempted to see who had called your name, but you quickly stepped in front of her, hiding her from sight.

“We’ll be leaving soon,” you said softly. Your tone was gentle, almost similar to how you talked with your mother. “I promise.”

“Is that her?”

You squeezed her hand. There was a moment where the air was so thick, Wednesday truly thought she would drown in it. Yet another feeling that she was rather unfamiliar with. It only got worse as you stepped aside, turning your body sideways to keep a strategic position between her and this new guest in front of you.

The woman looked homely. She looked older than Wednesday’s own mother, though not as old as Grandmama Addams; the wrinkles on her brown skin gave it away. Even as she dried her hands on the hand towel in her pocket, Wednesday could tell they were well worn from years of use. And yet she still looked at you with a kindness that Wednesday knew you had never gotten from your own mother.

“Mabel,” you said softly, “this is Wednesday.”

Mabel smiled. “You’re more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”

The statement left an uncomfortable weight in Wednesday’s chest that she couldn’t quite place. She didn’t believe it was because of the statement itself, it was simple enough. No, it could potentially be from the implication? Perhaps it came from knowing that you had talked about her to someone from your past. The same past that she was blind to, that you actively hid from her.

Someone from your past knew about her and it was… frightening.

“We just need in the office,” you said, “and then we’ll be gone.”

Mabel said nothing. She simply stood to the side of the hall, leaving plenty of space for you to pull Wednesday along. There was a moment where Wednesday met her warm brown eyes; they were filled with a look of motherly care. It made her sick to her stomach.

“Don’t touch anything,” you said when you closed the office door. “I’ll only be a minute.”

Wednesday didn’t think she could have searched for anything even if you had asked her to. She couldn’t get Mabel’s eyes out of her mind. There was a horrifying amount of tenderness when she looked at you. Your head had been turned too far, but she could imagine the same sentiment had been in your own eyes.

What a world you had lived in. To grow up receiving care not from your actual parents, but from your brother and the family maid. Now, Wednesday was not overly fond of how her own parents showed their affection; they were too forward and extravagant. That did not, however, change the fact that they loved their children with their entire beings.

She walked forward while you were still digging around. You weren’t touching things, just ghosting your fingers over the spines of books, the shelves, hesitating before pulling open the metal filing cabinets. There was the smallest tell in your actions; your hands shook not with anger, but with fear.

Her feet stopped her in front of a small set of shelves covered in awards and framed newspaper clippings. Your father’s winning cases littered the wall, each seeming to receive a more extravagant frame than the last. But right in the middle of all of them was a singular picture frame, a misfit amongst the glory with its chipped black paint.

It was a family picture of all four of you. The lot was bundled up in winter clothes. Your father held skis in his right hand, and a young you in his left. Nicky stood between your parents, and your mother was looking regal as always. A snow capped mountain made for beautiful background scenery, but that wasn’t what Wednesday was focused on.

You were all smiling.

Your voice screamed at her from the back of her mind, telling her not to touch anything. But who was Wednesday to deny her own curiosity? Curiosity sparked new thoughts, new revelations, and she was never one to deny herself such satisfaction. Besides, you were far too busy with your own search, how would you know if she simply picked up the picture to get a closer look-

-her brain didn’t even have time to process the shock before she felt the chill of winter whipping around her. She couldn’t orient herself properly, but she recognised the snowy mountain in front of her. The peal of laughter brought her spinning head to a halt; it was higher pitched, but she would recognise it anywhere.

You were waddling across the snow after Nicky, hands outstretched in front of you. The look on your face was so genuine, so pure, Wednesday wasn’t entirely sure she had ever seen it on your face in all of her own years of knowing you. It was almost a peaceful aura about you, as if nothing had troubled your young mind just yet. Perhaps it hadn’t.

A little further behind the both of you, your parents stood together, smiling down at you. It was different from the polite, professional smiles she had seen on their faces before. These reached their eyes. If she let her mind stretch reality for a moment, she could almost see… love in those smiles.

“Come on, you two,” your mother said in her slightly accented voice. “Let’s get inside before it gets late.”

“Coming!” Nicky called, letting you chase him as you both ran through the snow that was starting to pile higher on the ground.

Wednesday followed along behind the four of you, keeping her distance for better observation. Nicky was quick to get beside your mother, while you stayed beside your father. His hand grabbed yours gently, dwarfing your entire body beside him. The look on his face would have been precious if she hadn’t known how he ended up treating you.

She stayed outside of the small cabin when you all went inside. It was nothing fancy, nothing that would indicate the small fortune that you came from. Simply a secluded cabin on what appeared to be a secluded mountainside. Wednesday could appreciate the small structure even as she stood by the window, peering in.

There was a small fire on the far wall, and Nicky was quick to shed his winter clothes to sit in front of it. Your father stayed behind, helping you out of the clothes that probably weighed more than you did. It amazed Wednesday how someone so small could turn into the absolute giant that you were in the present. 

Your father’s hands were so gentle on your skin. If she didn’t know any better, it would have looked like love. Maybe it was. Perhaps it used to be. Surely there had been a time, much like this, where you had been loved so unconditionally that it reflected off your smile. He was so careful with you, helping you with each layer of clothing as if one wrong move would break you. You were cherished, you were loved, you were cared for.

He helped you take off the last remaining layer aside from your shirt. It stuck to the small coat, pulling up until it caught on your head, and Wednesday felt that uncomfortably familiar weight settle in her chest. Your back, untouched by the traumas of the future, was bare. No wings, no indication of anything that would signify you were anything other than a Normie.

Your parents loved you because you were “normal.”

“Wends?”

The chill of the mountain air disappeared, too quickly replaced by the warmth of your home. It was a painful switch, leaving her fingers tingling and burning at the same time. She pulled her hand back to her side, being careful not to move the picture frame. You were sitting at the desk in the middle of the room, your brows furrowed. The crinkle between your eyes was more prominent than usual.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

She nodded once, hesitantly.

“I can’t find it,” you said with a sigh. “We should head out before it gets too late.”

You didn’t move from the desk, just kept looking at her. And all the while, Wednesday couldn’t ignore the way her heart started to race. Sitting at that desk, with your back ramrod straight and arms resting on the mahogany wood, you looked like someone who belonged there. A completely different person than the one she had unceremoniously fallen for time and time again.

You looked just like your father.

She would never say it aloud.

[palms-upturned]

I’m not gonna jump in ppl’s notes over this bc lord knows I do not want to have a debate about it but seeing someone say “I have qualms about people calling Jean ableist for trying to fire Harry and in the same breath saying Harry is unfit for cop work” is really getting to me. I am practically on my knees begging people to actually engage with what disco elysium has to say about disability and addiction and ableism and policing and social murder because it’s not even subtextual, it’s as blatant and hand holding as it could possibly be. The 41st is an awful environment for Harry not bc him being disabled makes him incapable of doing his job, it’s bc the job is fucking hostile to his existence. Like, no one is “fit” to be a cop because they shouldn’t exist, firstly, and even Harry himself will say as much in the Ruby bad ending. But talking about Harry’s case specifically, we know that this job is part of what landed him where he is to begin with.

From the start of day 2:

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — You mean why are you so tired? Too tired and *down* to even think? It *is* worrying, isn't it. You can't be a detective like this -- detectives need to be able to think.

YOU — Why is this happening?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — It's just that your heart has finally pumped all the *speed* out of your system, buster. Time to get some more.

YOU — Wait. What *is*... speed?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Speed is a potent central nervous system stimulant. It kept you propped up all day yesterday despite your debilitating hangover. How else did you think you even got up from this floor?

VOLITION — You got up from this floor because of a holy vow you made sixteen years ago. With *me*. To wake up exactly 07:30 every morning until the day you die.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Don't be silly. There was no vow. You were high on speed. That was the only reason you got up. You can't *detect* without it, it's that simple.

YOU — No. I can take this. I am not going to go looking for speed.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Are you sure? Ready to live as this pathetic shell of yourself for days? Basically a week? Let's be honest -- two weeks, maybe three? You won't make it. Half the town will be dead by then. You will be fired.

YOU — That's a lie. I can do this without the speed. Half the town won't be dead... (Opt out.)

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Suit yourself, slow, sad shell-man. See how you do without your spark.

And from this talk with Kim in Klaasje’s room:

KIM KITSURAGI — "Amphetamine -- does it make you a better detective?"

SUGGESTION — Be honest. He's not grilling you, he just wants to know. Ask if he's ever wanted to take it too.

YOU — "Honestly, it makes me the detective I am. Have you thought of taking it too?"

KIM KITSURAGI — "Maybe I should?" He lets out a little pensive hum, rubbing his shoulder...

DRAMA — It's not insincere. He's actually giving it thought.

KIM KITSURAGI — "Doesn't the... pupils and the gurning jaw, the sweating... doesn't it become tiring after a while?"

YOU — "I understand it's unbecoming but if I don't perform this job well I am nothing. It's the price I pay."

Harry knows that the cost of getting sober would be that the precinct would let him go. They’re not going to have the patience to deal with him slowing down from the combo of withdrawal and no speed to “keep him propped up.” Not when the reason that he’s stayed on the force this long and risen in the ranks is most likely because he manages such a massive caseload, as we find out from Kim:

YOU — "Is two cases a week a good case load, lieutenant?"

KIM KITSURAGI — "Huh?" He raises his nose from his notes. "Two *complex* cases to undertake is a lot, yes. You *really* have to push yourself. I would not suggest it. Lest you start making mistakes."

YOU — "Two cases a week appears to have been my load, lieutenant. I'm not sure I completed them though."

KIM KITSURAGI — "Two?" He raises both eyebrows. "That's a lot. I didn't mean to say you're making mistakes, by the way. That was presumptuous of me."

And later:

KIM KITSURAGI — "This next row -- the one that wraps all the way around -- is your number of closed cases. *Closed* is good. It means finished. You've got, let's see..."

KIM KITSURAGI — "Wow, more than 200!"

YOU — "Is that a lot?"

KIM KITSURAGI — "It's *quite* a lot, even for someone who's been on the force for nearly two decades. Usually clearing more than 10 cases a year puts you in the 90th percentile of *all* RCM officers..."

Despite the trouble Harry makes, he’s considered an asset so long as he closes cases. To the point where he wasn’t punished for drunkenly beating Burke unconscious and then injuring his knee so badly that he can’t walk anymore just because this allowed them to close the “unsolvable case” of Leslie and Burke. 41 and the RCM as an institution don’t care about Harry’s or anyone else’s wellbeing, they care about whether the pros of having him around outweigh the cons.

From the lazareth call with Gottlieb:

YOU — "Isn't there *anything* you can do for me?"

NIX GOTTLIEB — "What, you want me to do blood work for you again, tell you just how bad things really are *across the board*? You want another rundown of everything collapsing inside your body?"

YOU — "Yes. I want the truth!"

NIX GOTTLIEB — "You want the real, honest-to-god truth? Stop drinking, eat magnesium and vitamin D. Our station is not a retirement home. We don't have the funds to deal with *rock stars* past their prime."

RHETORIC — So it's political! You're being *neglected* because of political reasons...

NIX GOTTLIEB — "And no, I *don't* want to hear a *political commentary* on the topic. In fact -- I've got work to do."

If I were to quote every time Gottlieb was notably uncaring or said something blasé about how you probably didn’t have long to live, I’d have to quote pretty much every word of that dialogue. That’s the whole joke with Gottlieb. That’s just how it is dealing with doctors when you’re in Harry’s position.

From talking to Kim about Uuno:

KIM KITSURAGI — "We could take him to Remedie or Saint Batiste, but he doesn't have money for medical services. The Almshouse would turn him down..."

KIM KITSURAGI — "They don't do charity for people who're trying to kill themselves. Besides, he'll be dead in a few..." The lieutenant stops, listening to him.

RHETORIC — ... years? Months? Weeks?

“They don’t do charity work for people who’re trying to kill themselves” really sums up the absurdity of Harry’s situation and institutional responses to it. Harry isn’t seen as the kind of person in crisis who deserves intervention. He’s treated as a lost cause who deserves to suffer the consequences of his self harm, even though the unending crisis and the lack of response to it is what drives him to harm himself and hope that he “gets worse.” If he weren’t a cop, it’s unlikely that Kim would care about him any more than he cares about Uuno and Cuno’s situation. Harry’s job is killing him, but it’s also the only thing that gives him access to anything resembling a community or support network (at least at the start of the game). Again, that’s just the way it goes when you’re disabled.

From the second tribunal:

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Well -- here is my theory: What if this is an absolutely normal reaction to the world we're living in? What if this is *not* a significant anomaly at all, something to be explained, approached as a defect? Look at the sensory input here..." He gestures toward the scenery.

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Look at the ruins, the neon, listen to the radio, the multitudes. The people. Live here for forty years... As a police detective, he's like a magnetic reader on the world-tape -- to borrow a known metaphor. Harry's been pushed *flat against it*. Total input."

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Hard-wired to the free market..." He nods confidently. "He just needed for it to end."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Okay, Trant, thank you. That's... absolutely meaningless. I'm glad we brought you. Will he or will he not be able to work in the Major Crimes Unit? Is he a cretin now? I want to know *that*."

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "He is *not* a cretin. And he *is* able to do work -- if not in his previous leadership role, then as a line detective."

YOU — "Line detective is good for now."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "For *now*?" He looks at you, then at Trant. "I misphrased my question. It should have been: Is he able to put his clothes on, and use the potty, or do we need to get him on a disability pension?"

Or, alternatively:

YOU — "He's wrong. I'm too far gone for work."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Agreed, Harry." He nods. "Just don't expect us to get you a disability pension. Cops who actually gave a shit are waiting in line. You're not gonna hog their seat."

Trant, who, notably, is technically a civilian consultant rather than a cop, (edit: and maybe even more notably, as someone pointed out in the tags, has had experience with addiction, too) suggests to Jean that Harry’s breakdown is a basically inevitable result of his circumstances and the systems that created them, and Jean’s response is that he doesn’t care and all that he wants to know is whether or not Harry can work or if he’s going to be “hogging” resources from other people who are more deserving of help because they “actually gave a shit.” He’s a mouthpiece here for the institutions that he represents and his ableism is blatant and heinous to drive the point home. He denies that Harry’s case is as serious as it is and accuses Harry of faking it, despite the fact that it’s happened (at least) twice before, and very recently:

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "I believe you *drank*. People do that -- you especially. What they don't do is forget their *whole life* because of drinking."

JUDIT MINOT — "But, Detective Vicquemare," she interjects. "He *has* blanked out before."

YOU — "I have?"

JUDIT MINOT — "Yes, a couple of times. After some of the more... serious benders." She pauses, remembering. "One was after the Two Drunks case, the other when we looked into that mural."

REACTION SPEED — The two cases... in your ledger. The Unsolvable Case and the Next World Mural. Those were recent.

And despite the fact that even Gottlieb doesn’t seem shocked about it:

YOU — "I've lost my memory. All of it."

NIX GOTTLIEB — "With all the damage you've been dealing yourself with drugs and alcohol, I'm not surprised."

AUTHORITY — There is no surprise in his voice. Only careless superiority.

DRAMA — It's hard to say if he doesn't believe you -- or doesn't care.

(Considering that Gottlieb’s PSY stat is so high (he’s even eating one of the PSY boosting candies during the call), along with his uncaring responses to all your other problems, it’s more likely the latter.)

Jean also won’t believe that you’re sober even if you haven’t touched so much as a cigarette for your entire playthrough, and even when Judit points out that he’s wrong, he’ll double down and say that it doesn’t matter because you’re going to relapse:

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Even the insect -- I don't care. But you're an *alcoholic*. And you've been drinking -- again. I won't let my life unravel because of this."

JUDIT MINOT — "Jean -- I think he hasn't. I can see it on his face..."

ENDURANCE — The bloating *has* gone down since you woke up that morning...

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Okay, so he's stayed clear for what? A week?" He sighs.

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "It's tough. One of the toughest addictions to overcome. Comparable *only* to heavy synthetic opiates. Even morphine is easier to kick than alcohol -- statistically. The odds are against him. Especially at his age."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — He nods. "He's too old. He's been like this for too long. I've seen him try many times. It's a farce by now."

SUGGESTION — They're leaving. They're all turning away from you.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — No. You can figure it out. *Replace* it! Replace the alcohol with amphetamine. Or GBL! Fuck it -- morphine! Graffito removal agent! Anything. It'll buy you time. All you need is time.

Electrochemistry brings up yet another facet of Harry’s struggles with substances, which is the idea that some of them may be replacements for alcohol. He doesn’t have time or space to try to quit in any way that is remotely healthy. What he has are substances like speed that keep him from collapsing from the strain of it all so that he can keep showing up to work, and other substances that might (he hopes) help him wean himself off the alcohol.

The game explores all of these different factors of Harry’s struggles with addiction and the circumstances that keep him trapped in them exhaustively (and the fact that Robert Kurvitz apparently was recovering from alcoholism during the development probably contributed a lot to that). The structure and culture of the RCM are hugely responsible for Harry’s situation. He’s mocked and berated for being an alcoholic and told repeatedly to get his shit together without actually providing him with the means to do that. Instead, he’s not only enabled but practically forced to keep using just so that he can show up to work at all and not risk losing the only support network he has (even if it’s the shittiest and most unhelpful network imaginable). As Luiga (iirc) said, Harry’s biggest tragedy is that he’s incapable of quitting the force. Many of the reasons for that are genuinely just due to Harry being a class traitor and an asshole, but it’s also true that even if he did want to quit, there is no safety net to catch him.

And then Harry comes to Martinaise, a town that has been “orphaned” by the RCM and neglected by Revachol at large, left mostly to their own devices. It’s not like policing doesn’t still exist in Martinaise, and things are pretty dire for everyone in the community, but at the very least you can see that it is a community. Isobel houses you for free. In Kim’s absence (and after Gottlieb stitches and ditches you), Cuno and Garte take care of you when you’re shot. Acele responds to your breakdown on the ice by saying it’s okay to cry and that you can talk with her about it when you’re ready. Idiot Doom Spiral and co run to your aid when they see you drive your car into the sea and invite you to come drink with them just to stop you from doing it again. Harry discovers that life, while very painful and bleak at times, isn’t necessarily hopeless for the marginalized. You can still find solidarity and support outside of the system.

Meanwhile, if Harry in the end has no one to vouch for him and hasn’t stayed sober, that system will abandon him, a well-known suicide risk with at least one bullet hole in him and severe amnesia, with the promise of nothing but getting served a station call slip. The point is not whether or not Harry “deserves” to be forgiven or even whether he’s a danger to himself and others (to be clear, he is). The point is that this is a system that doesn’t care whether Harry and people like him live or die. That is why, even in a “good” ending where Harry is welcomed back to the 41st, the work won’t be sustainable. It’s going to kill him because that’s what it’s designed to do. The miracle of Martinaise was the realization that he doesn’t have to die. There are people who will help to keep him on this earth. They’re just not members of the fucking RCM.

It’s not a “gotcha” to say that if Jean (and the RCM, and the institutions of Revachol on the whole) is ableist for wanting Harry fired, then saying that cop work is unsustainable for Harry is also ableist. I won’t even say what I personally think of that logic because I’m trying to keep the tone of this post polite. Jean’s dialogue during the tribunal is meant to parrot every bit of ableist rhetoric that the system is built on and that keeps Harry trapped in this hellish feedback loop. He’s a mouthpiece for the general culture of the RCM, just like Gottlieb is a mouthpiece for the shit that addicts and the disabled have to deal with from the medical system. He thinks Harry should be fired because he’s a drunk and therefor a lost cause. The truth is that Harry needs to quit this job because it shouldn’t exist and because it is actively killing him.

In one of Martin Luiga’s articles about the process of creating the game, he brings up the concept of social murder, which is a term coined by Engels:

When one individual inflicts bodily injury upon another such that death results, we call the deed manslaughter; when the assailant knew in advance that the injury would be fatal, we call his deed murder. But when society places hundreds of proletarians in such a position that they inevitably meet a too early and an unnatural death, one which is quite as much a death by violence as that by the sword or bullet; when it deprives thousands of the necessaries of life, places them under conditions in which they cannot live – forces them, through the strong arm of the law, to remain in such conditions until that death ensues which is the inevitable consequence – knows that these thousands of victims must perish, and yet permits these conditions to remain, its deed is murder just as surely as the deed of the single individual; disguised, malicious murder, murder against which none can defend himself, which does not seem what it is, because no man sees the murderer, because the death of the victim seems a natural one, since the offence is more one of omission than of commission. But murder it remains.

None of this is subtext. And all of it is intended to make players actually spare a thought for what it’s like for people in Harry’s situation in real life. For God’s sake, please engage with it. You have to try and understand what it means to be trapped in a life that is made unlivable and to know that your death will be ungrievable. That’s what this whole game is about.

Edit: I’ve seen some ppl say in the tags something like “yeah, I like to imagine a happy ending for Harry, but…” and listen. I am laying a very gentle hand on your shoulders. The point of this post was never to say that there’s no happy ending for Harry. The point is that the first step toward that ending is conceptualizing a life outside of the RCM. In Martinaise, he got a glimpse of what that might look like. Hell, in the bad ending, you can even say to Jean, “fine then. I’ll just live here.” There’s hope for him and for us. I promise.

[alwaysanundertone]

What could possibly go wrong?

Barty Crouch Jr x fem reader

word count: 900

part 1 , part 2

Except, everything was wrong.

When you arrived at the party, Barty was literally surrounded by people after about two minutes. You tried to keep up with all of his friends, but it got kind of overwhelming.

You decided to leave when one particular Slytherin girl came into view: you tried to introduce yourself, but when she refused to shake your hand, you decided you had enough, so you just left Barty. After all, you’ve been a loner your whole life, and you weren’t about to start begging for people’s attention now.

How dumb of you to think Barty could possibly be into you, he was a manwhore, he flirted with everyone, you weren’t special. Plus, why would he go for someone as boring as you, when he could have everyone? Hell, everyone in Hogwarts seemed to be thirsting over him, you weren’t special. He was a social butterfly, you were a loner, how could it work out?

Now you were sulking at the minibar, wondering why you interrupted your reading session for this, but most of all, why did he bring you here, just to make you feel insecure about yourself. You stared at the glass of whiskey in front of you: might give it a go while you were at your first, and probably last, party.

You instantly regret it: it burned, and you were positive it was way too much.

“Hey, Y/N right?” You jumped. In front of you stood a blonde guy, he towered over you, staring at you with his pale eyes. “Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart. Just wanted to come say hi, you weren’t looking too happy to be here. I’m Evan”

You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking his hand. “But how do you know my name?”

“Well, it would be strange if I didn’t. Barty talks about you like, 24/7, and I am his roommate, so”

You widened your eyes. “He does?”

“Yes, silly. Don’t you see how he always looks at you? And how he always seems to be around when you seem to be uncomfortable? Like yesterday, during Potions, when you were all alone at a table?”

You blushed. You had felt really pathetic, sitting by yourself while everyone else was chatting with their friends, and then Barty sat next to you, leaving his friends. You instinctively looked at him, you brows furrowed: he was still with that Slytherin girl. Evan followed your gaze.

“Look, sometimes he’s just oblivious of what’s happening around him, but I swear he only has eyes for you. Look at his body language: she’s desperately trying to establish some type of physical connection, while he looks like he is about to leave” In that moment, you saw Barty looking around, when he spotted you he brightened up, excusing himself and making his way to you.

“Hey love, looks like you’re already charming up my friends”

“I wasn’t-“

“You should be careful, Barty, if you won’t start dating her, someone else might take your place” He winked at you, making you blush.

“You’re such a dick, Y/N is already mine and you know that” Barty slung an arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple, making you a blabbering mess.

“Maybe she won’t mind to be shared, don’t you think?” Evan caressed your cheek, now you were sure he could feel you burning, you weren’t sure what was happening, but you knew if they kept this up, you might as well end up in a puddle in the floor. They both chuckled at your reaction.

“Let’s ignore this shithead, love, and go dancing” He lead you to the dancefloor.

“Barty, I don’t know how, I’ve never been to a party before, you know that.”

He smiled softly at you. “Just follow my movements, everything will be alright”

The music was slow and sultry, he had his big hands on your waist, and he started moving slowly, guiding your hips. You had your face in the crook of his neck, trying to inhale subtly the smell of his cologne.

“You’re tickling me here, love, do I smell nice?” You felt his chest vibrate, while you tried to hide your now red face into his chest. “Don’t go shy on me now, love, mh? Let me see those beautiful rosy cheeks”

“You’re not being fair, you know that, right?”

“Who said I wanted to?” He bopped your nose. “Besides, I really enjoy seeing you all flustered because of me. It’s kind of an ego booster”

“Shut up, Crouch”

“Make me”

He stared at you, then gazed at your lips, making you lick them absentmindedly. Were you really about to kiss him? You didn’t know if it was the whiskey giving you the courage, or the fact that he looked good enough to eat, but you decided that yes, you were going to kiss him.

You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and then you just put your lips on his. He freezed at first, making you regret your choice, but then he shifted his hold on you, so that one of his hands was now grabbing your butt, while the other cradled your head, while deepening the kiss.

Suddenly, your legs were feeling all jelly-like, the hand placement and the fact that he was really a good kisser had you feeling dizzy.

“You don’t know how long I waited for this exact moment.” He pecked your lips. “Since I saw you with that damn hat on, I was praying all of the gods you’d end up in Slytherin, but you didn’t. And now I finally have you in my arms.” Another kiss. “I won’t ever let you go, you know?”

“I think it’s fine by me, but you should take me on a date first”

He was about to reply when you were hit by a bright flash.

“Sorry guys, had to have a picture of this moment”

“Evan when I catch you, you’re dead”

As he was about to chase the poor guy, you just gripped him harshly. “Shut up and kiss me”

He smiled at you. “Whatever you want, love”