#and now that you’ve killed him you suddenly regret it and can’t take it back
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wandering-winchesters · 2 months ago
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First Moments: Kiss
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Summary: The first time Dean Winchester kisses you Word count: 861 A/N: I am debating on making this a series, covering different "Firsts" with Dean.. Any interest in that? Let me know!
The first time Dean Winchester kisses you, it happens in the least romantic place imaginable—an old gas station parking lot on the outskirts of nowhere. The sun is setting, casting an amber glow over the cracked asphalt and the Impala parked nearby, her paint gleaming like polished obsidian. The faint smell of gasoline mingles with the crisp scent of impending rain, a storm brewing in the distance.
It wasn’t planned. Nothing about Dean ever feels planned, really. He’s a mess of contradictions—cocky and self-assured one minute, guarded and vulnerable the next. You’ve been riding shotgun with him for weeks now, chasing down leads, salt-and-burning restless spirits, and fighting things most people wouldn’t dare to believe existed. Somewhere along the way, you became more than just hunting partners. You don’t know what to call it yet, but there’s a connection between you, an unspoken pull that you’ve both been too stubborn—or scared—to acknowledge.
Until now.
It starts with an argument. Of course it does. Dean has this way of pushing your buttons, and tonight he’s doing it with the precision of a master.
“You can’t just run in there without a plan!” you snap, your arms crossed over your chest.
“And what was your plan, huh?” he shoots back, his voice rising. “To stand around and wait until the ghost decides to play nice? That’s not how this works.”
“It’s called strategy, Dean. Maybe you should try it sometime instead of going full kamikaze every damn hunt!”
He scoffs, dragging a hand down his face in frustration. “You know what your problem is? You think too much. Sometimes you just gotta act.”
“And you think too little!” you retort, your eyes narrowing. “One of these days, your impulsiveness is going to get you killed.”
The words hang in the air, sharper than you intended, and for a moment, Dean just stares at you. His jaw tightens, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—hurt, maybe, or regret—but it’s gone before you can be sure.
“Fine,” he says, his voice quieter now. “If you’ve got it all figured out, why the hell do you even need me?”
It’s not the first time you’ve fought, but there’s something different about this one. The air between you feels charged, like the storm rolling in above. You don’t answer right away, and Dean takes a step closer, his boots crunching against the gravel.
“Why, huh?” he presses, his tone softer but no less intense. “Why do you keep sticking around if I’m such a screw-up?”
Your heart pounds against your ribs, a wild, erratic rhythm that matches the storm clouds overhead. You open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat. Because it’s not that simple. Because you don’t stick around in spite of his flaws—you stick around because of them. Because Dean Winchester, for all his faults, is the kind of person who will throw himself in harm’s way without a second thought to save someone else. Because he’s loyal to a fault, fiercely protective, and has a smile that could light up the darkest corners of the world, even when he doesn’t believe it himself.
“Dean…” you start, but his name barely makes it past your lips before he moves.
It’s not hesitant or tentative—it’s sudden, like he’s been holding himself back for too long and finally snapped. His hands cup your face, rough and calloused but somehow gentle, and then his lips are on yours.
The kiss is everything you didn’t know you needed. It’s not perfect—Dean’s lips are a little chapped, and the angle is slightly awkward at first—but it’s real. There’s an urgency to it, a raw, unfiltered emotion that leaves you breathless. His hands are warm against your skin, grounding you even as the world seems to tilt on its axis.
You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly your hands are fisting in his jacket, pulling him closer as if the space between you is unbearable. He responds in kind, deepening the kiss with a low, almost involuntary sound that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s like the dam you’ve both been holding back has finally burst, and there’s no going back now.
When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing hard, your foreheads pressed together. The storm is closer now, the first drops of rain starting to fall, but neither of you seems to notice.
“Wow,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
Dean chuckles, a low, self-deprecating sound. “Yeah, uh… sorry about that. I probably should’ve—”
“Don’t,” you interrupt, your fingers still gripping his jacket. “Don’t apologize.”
His eyes meet yours, and for once, there’s no wall, no mask, no bravado. Just Dean.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admits, his voice soft and almost vulnerable.
You smile, your heart swelling in your chest. “Took you long enough.”
He laughs, the sound warm and genuine, and the tension between you finally seems to ease. The rain starts to pick up, but neither of you moves. For once, the hunt can wait. For once, the only thing that matters is this moment—messy, imperfect, and absolutely perfect all at once.
Tag List: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester @whump-loverz @pizzagirlxnsfwx @king-of-milf-lovers @jollyhunter
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wolvietxt · 4 months ago
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𝓭ay 𝓯ive.
daryl dixon + unexpected compliment.
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your sitting on the front steps of the prison when daryl comes up, bow slung over his shoulder and a fresh kill in his hands. you offer him a bright smile, as you always do, and he glances at you in that way he does - like he’s not quite sure how to handle your cheerfulness.
“hey, daryl,” you chirp, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “how’d it go out there?”
he grunts, a typical non-answer, but his gaze lingers on you a beat longer than usual. “was fine,” he mumbles, shifting his weight as if suddenly uncomfortable. he hesitates before his eyes flick up to meet yours, and his voice comes out a bit gruffer than intended. “y’look… pretty today.”
it’s so quiet, almost lost in the space between you, but you hear it. the compliment catches you off guard, and you blink, processing it before a wide, beaming smile spreads across your face. “really?” you ask, the excitement bubbling up in your tone.
daryl’s already regretting it, the tips of his ears flushing red as he averts his gaze. “yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he mutters, kicking at a loose rock on the ground. “i mean… y’look pretty every day, or… whatever.” he stumbles over the words, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to hide behind his own hand.
your smile only grows, lighting up your whole face, and you can’t help the little laugh that escapes. “you think i’m pretty every day?” there’s a teasing lilt to your voice, but the genuine happiness is impossible to miss.
daryl scowls, more at himself than at you, and his eyes dart away, finding the ground far more interesting than your delighted expression. “stop grinnin’ like that,” he grumbles, his voice gruff and low. “ain’t no big deal.”
but the way you’re practically glowing, like that little comment meant the world to you, sends a flutter of something unfamiliar through him. he’s used to your sunshine demeanor, the way you always seem to find the bright side, even in the middle of all this mess. but now, he’s realizing just how much weight his words can hold for you, and it leaves him… flustered.
“i can’t help it,” you reply, the joy unmistakable in your tone as you practically bounce on the spot. “that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” you’re not poking fun; there’s only warmth in your voice, and it leaves daryl with that strange, fluttery feeling again.
“yeah, well,” he huffs, trying to shrug it off, “don’t let it get to your head, alright?” but there’s no real bite to his words, and the corners of his mouth twitch, almost like he’s fighting a smile of his own. it’s maddening, the way your happiness is infectious, like he’s catching the edges of it despite himself.
you notice the faint pink still dusting his cheeks, and it’s hard not to giggle at how he’s trying to act annoyed. “it’s just… it means a lot,” you say more quietly, your gaze softening as it meets his. “you don’t… y’know, say things like that often.”
“yeah, well, maybe i should just keep my mouth shut,” he retorts, but his voice is unsteady, and there’s no hiding the way your reaction flusters him. he shifts his weight from foot to foot, fidgeting like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
you bite your lip, then take a bold step forward, leaning up to press a quick, gentle kiss to his cheek. “thanks, daryl,” you murmur, your lips brushing against the scruff of his jaw before you pull back, still smiling that bright, genuine smile. “you’re sweet, even if you won’t admit it.”
daryl freezes at the touch, his cheeks burning hot under the sudden, unexpected warmth of your lips. “ain’t sweet,” he grumbles, but the way his voice cracks and the flush that spreads down his neck say otherwise.
he turns away sharply, muttering something under his breath, but it’s clear from the way he fumbles to sling his bow back over his shoulder that the little kiss has him more rattled than he’s willing to let on. “c’mon,” he says, voice a little gruffer than usual. “we got work to do.”
as he starts heading toward the fence, you swear you catch him rubbing at the spot on his cheek where your lips had touched, his expression flustered in a way that makes your heart skip. you follow, your grin wide and unshakeable as you fall into step beside him.
you think you see a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, too, but he keeps his gaze firmly fixed on the path ahead, like he can’t risk letting you see just how much your happiness - and that simple touch - meant to him.
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glasvera · 19 days ago
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...Shame on Me
Loki x GN!Reader
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Description: The final part, preceded by Fool Me Once... , ...Shame on You , and Fool Me Twice...
You've been sent on a covert mission to distract the God of Mischief himself long enough to foil his plans. Unfortunately, this task becomes much harder when your target proves incredibly disarming.
Warnings/Disclaimers: Angst, reader starts out bound in chains, forbidden love. Gender neutral reader, reader is an expert in covert operations and deception.
A/N: Yeah I uh... ouchie. My heart hurt writing this. Apologies if the ending is a bit abrupt, but I didn't know how to continue it further without branching it off into a good/bad ending sort of thing.
Word Count: 1.6k
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“This could have been so much easier for you…”
You flash awake with a start, your head snapping around the room you find yourself in. It’s… Loki’s. You’re in Loki’s room, and evidently you’d been sleeping on his bed. A throbbing pain starts in your head, and you bring a hand up to hold it as you shield your eyes from the daylight filtering through his window, but the movement is accompanied by the rattling of chain links.
“What…?” You stare down at the metal cuff clasped about your wrist, following its chain all the way down to where it’s bolted into the floor. An experimental tug of your other hand confirms that  you’ve been restrained on both sides. Panic gnaws at the edges of your mind, but years of practice allows you to steel yourself against it, even if you can’t stop your hands from trembling slightly.
The click of heeled boots approaches from the hallway outside. Every muscle in your body tenses, but you know you need to stay calm. No sense in making your situation worse before you’ve been able to make a proper escape plan. As you expected, Loki appears from behind the door, clad in his full regalia, and he eyes you with disdain.
“Ah… the bird awakens in its gilded cage,” he notes idly as he removes his golden horned helm. He’s expecting a reaction, so instead you draw your lips into a thin line, denying him the satisfaction. That disappoints him greatly.
“I could have killed you, you know,” he remarks as he draws closer. His arms are tucked behind his back, and your eyes watch for any twitch of muscle in the event that he’s hiding some sort of weapon there.
You take the bait on his banter though, morbidly intrigued by this god’s intentions. “Why haven’t you, then? I thought you weren’t a coward,” you spit.
He curls his lip into a snarl before inhaling deeply and composing himself. Leaning forward, he harshly grips your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. “I’m not,” he corrects you, his voice dripping with venom. “Besides, you are of more use to me alive than dead.”
You stare defiantly into those emerald eyes. He may be the master of lies and deception, but you detect a faint veneer of regret amidst the frustration that flares within him. Likely regret that he hadn’t chained you up sooner, you think. When he releases his hold, pushing your face to the side as he does so, your head spins with a myriad of emotions.
There is regret within you as well. Your defiance, your anger, is ignited by raw betrayal.
“Your friends have been detained,” he speaks suddenly, and you’re broken out of your thoughts as you feel dread crawling into your chest. He’s facing away from you now, his arms still clasped behind his back, and gazes out at Yggsgard from the window. Your mission, your whole reason for being here… had he seen through it all? As though he could read your mind, he tuts at you, eyeing you over his shoulder. “Really, did you think you could weasel your way into my palace so easily? You are lovely to look at, but clearly you’re not very bright.”
You have no response, hanging your head low and cursing yourself for not realizing it sooner. Not only had he seen through your every move--you were the very reason this mission had failed. You had let your guard down without realizing it.
“I… they’re still alive?” you finally ask.
Loki sighs, seemingly irritated by the question. “I am a trickster, not a murderer. I have no reason to kill them, so they live.” He explains it to you like it’s a concept that even a five year old should understand. It’s condescending, infuriating, and you grit your teeth to suppress every biting retort that bubbles in the back of your throat.
“We are still to be wed,” he states methodically, clearly ready to move on from the subject.
“And do your subjects know you have your spouse-to-be chained to your bed?”
To your surprise, he winces at that, turning to face you properly. “I had to take precautions. The illusion was slipping faster than I had anticipated. You seem to be too perceptive for your own good.”
You snort. “Comes with the job territory.”
A low, sinking feeling settles into the pit of your stomach as realization washes over you. You are to be wed. In your moment of clarity, you tried desperately to break free, to say no and get as far away from this dangerous man as possible while you had the chance. That wasn’t even the worst part. Had you been in your right mind, had you been with him longer under different circumstances… you very well may have said yes of your own accord. 
“It was all a lie…” you breathe softly, huffing a laugh at yourself. “I don’t know why I expected anything else. Illusions, trickery, false love…” Tears prick at the corners of your eyes.
Loki’s eyes find the marble floors before he shuts them. “Love is not something I am allowed. And the heart is so easily toyed with.” Where there should be malice in his tone, you only hear bittersweet melancholy. 
At every turn, this man seeks to confuse you, to wrench your heart from your chest and stomp it down into the earth. And at every turn you’ve allowed him to fool you again and again. You hiss through your teeth, willing the tears not to fall. Shame knots in your gut, squeezing your organs like a vice, and your bottom lip trembles.
“You should have killed me,” you utter in a shaky whisper. Your hands ball into fists where they rest atop your knees. “If there is any kindness in you, you would kill me instead of subjecting me to this.”
“I… cannot,” he replies, unable to look at you.
It fills you with unbridled rage. Calming your emotions is long forgotten as your nails dig painfully into your palms and your knuckles go white. “Why not!? Is this all a part of your sick plan? Does marrying me give you leverage against--”
“I WON’T!” he bellows suddenly, baring his teeth when his face snaps towards you. It startles you to silence, and your eyes widen as you frown and your brow furrows. The tension slowly fades from his body, his shoulders slouched as he regards you with misty eyes. “I… I won’t. I can’t. Not you.”
No. This is another trick. Even if every fiber of your being begs for it to be real, you can’t allow him to snake his way into your heart again. It hurts, and you can’t stop the tears that fall, but you can stand up to it this time.
“You tell me you cannot love, and then you expect me to believe that you won’t kill me simply because you can’t bring yourself to?” you retaliate with disdain.
“You… you have every right,” he relents, and that does catch you off-guard. “In another life, perhaps I…” He cuts himself off, turning on his heel and walking away from the bed. With a snap of his fingers, the metal cuffs on your wrists unclasp, falling to the silken bed sheets as you stare down at your wrists in shock.
He was the most confusing man you’d ever met. Perhaps the most tragic as well. It should be pathetic to see him look so wounded, but you only have one question on your mind.
So, as he stalks off towards the door to leave, you launch yourself from the bed. He doesn’t move, simply stopping in his tracks as he continues to face away. You don’t have time to think about how odd that is or why he does it. No, you just need to know. Your hand finds his shoulder and spins him around to face you. You have to know. His eyes widen when your fingers cup his cheek gingerly. When you pull him in for a kiss, you can taste the lingering salt of his tears. 
But you had to know if it was real.
Any part of it. Illusions or no, your feelings still ran true even with a clear mind. Still, he had admitted that the heart was so easy to toy with.
So why did it sound like he was talking about himself?
Your answer comes with a sob, a broken breath whispered against your lips, as his hands rise to cradle the back of your head. The warmth of fresh tears dampens your palm. His fingers claw into the back of your scalp as his lips press deeper, needier, craving the warmth and safety of your kiss. Your arm wraps around his neck to keep him close, and you feel the tears falling down your own face.
This was forbidden. To stay with him was to be an accomplice to the atrocities he’s committed to secure his reign. Even if this mission had failed, you knew he had to be thwarted, and you knew you had to be a part of it. When your lips part and your eyes meet his, you can see that same conflict brewing behind verdant green irises. Your fingertips run soothingly along his cheekbone, and his eyes flutter closed as he swallows back another sob.
“You have to leave,” he finally whispers, the words torturous upon his lips when his eyelids flicker open. His forehead presses against yours, and his hands come to rest gingerly on either side of your face. “I cannot bring myself to cage you.”
“Tomorrow, then,” you murmur with a bittersweet smile. “I would stay with you tonight, at least.”
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temilyrights · 5 months ago
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"all this to prove a point?" for the writing prompt
emily prentiss x reader
no warnings. no use of y/n or pronouns for reader.
sentence fic prompt
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You rub your hands together, trying your best to generate some heat in your body. Emily’s car, while lovely, did not provide the warmth of an suv on a usual stakeout and you were seriously regretting your inability to tell this woman no. 
“All this to prove a point?” You mumble, the humour fading from your tone the longer you sit in the cold car, the September air biting away at your fingers and toes. 
Emily sits with her camera pointed at Morgan’s apartment, a determined glint in her eye. “Better personal life than me, my ass. He came straight home and hasn’t left the building since!”
You roll your eyes, wishing desperately you were home, “Yeah but he’s also not wasting his evening stalking his friend.”
Emily lowers the camera and turns to face you, brows drawn together. “He can’t make accusations like that and not expect me to find proof.” 
“Well maybe if you focused a little bit more on yourself and a little less on him then you wouldn’t need to prove it and you’d have a private life he couldn’t argue with.”  
She scoffs, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
Always so clueless.
You shake your head, annoyed, embarrassed, and frustrated by the woman in front of you. “I’m right here.”
Emily’s frown only deepens and you blow out a breath, “I invited you out for dinner tonight and instead we’re stalking Morgan and have completely missed our reservations. Every time I try to move us forward you find a way to shut it down.”
“Reservations? I thought you wanted to get take-out and head back to one of ours, like usual.” She says with genuine confusion. 
“No, I booked that nice Indian place you like.” 
“Oh,” She responds, dropping the camera firmly in her lap. 
“Look,” you sigh, “I just need to know, okay? Because maybe I’m just failing to get the hint and you’re really not interested but I thought we were going somewhere. I like you Emily.” 
“You like me? Tonight was supposed to be a date and instead I blew you off and made us sit and stake out Morgan.” She says slowly, words strangled.
“Yes.”
“Fucking hell.” She blows out a breath. The car is silent for a moment as she comes to terms with the news and then her gaze focuses back on you. “I’m so sorry. I will make this up to you. I’m taking you for the best date night starting right now.”
Your eyes widen, “Wait so that’s a-?”
She smiles, wide and happy, “Yes, idiot, I like you too. God, why else would I ask you to sit here with me?”
You can’t help but smile too. Head in the clouds as Emily puts the camera away and the keys back in the ignition. 
“Ready to go?” She asks, a playful smirk on her lips that your eyes linger on. 
“There’s just one thing first.” Because you can’t wait a moment longer. You’ve waited years. 
You lean over the centre console, hand cupping her cheek and pulling her towards you to meet you in the middle. Emily’s eyes darken instantly, her gaze dropping to your lips before they fall close and her lips softly meet yours. 
Your body hums, alive as your lips move tenderly against hers. A gentle whine escapes your lips and your body heats up as you regretfully pull away. 
“Mmmhmm,” Emily hums, lips well kissed and eyes dark. “We can definitely do that again.”
“Food?” You ask, voice strangled. Avoiding the knowing look in her eyes, suddenly shy. 
“Oh, babes, I’ve got the perfect place.”
taglist: @ry-kills-jemily @sapphic-stress @xrainydazeteax @mckennamayfairgoode @enduringalexblake @augustvandyne @themoontaxi @prentissology @alexbllake @ssa-sapphic @storiesofsvu
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hyewka · 2 years ago
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i seriously need some sub soob🫢
like imagine him squirming and whining because you ONLY kissed his red tip thats leaking precum ehishsisidjdd im going insaneeee
warnings; sub!soobin obvi, sort of pervy, best friends who fuck each other (fwb), puppy pet name, big dick soob, slapping ?? balls??, gets a boner from cleavage, soobin is extra sensitive down there and cums a lot
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When Soobin invited you over to his dorm, you don’t exactly expect to have nothing but your phone to turn to as he simultaneously gets worked up over some video game he’s playing and ignores you all around. You should’ve guessed this was going to happen, but you’re bitter about it anyway.
Is it a crime to have thought that he was implying something else by inviting you over?
“I’m bored.” you whine for the umpteenth time, your thumb with no thought scrolling through your feed of posts you’ve already liked and reposted.
When he doesn’t even spare a glance, you scoff and resort to a kick at his back—which to your credit, gets him to adjust his headset and look back to you.
“Yeah?” he mouths, not having heard you before.
You can’t help but think he looked cute today, his pinkish lips and the hair over his eyes making him look even more of a puppy, but before you could even get a word out, his eyes suddenly widen at the faint yell you could hear from his headset, immedietley turning around has he aggresively spams buttons on his controller in panic.
“Holy shit dude, get off my ass I looked away for one—”
You groan into his pillow, making sure to make it as dramatic as possible, proceeding to sulk right after. This was not a productive use of your time. Fifty entire minutes of laying on his bed as he plays a video game. The switch out of your sport bra for a push up right before you came over really is doing nothing for you right now.
When you hear a string of curses spilling out of his mouth, you look over your shoulder curiously and see that his screen was in spectator mode. “You lost?”
He groans, taking off his headset completely, his mic muted. “Mhm, got killed. What’s up though?”
You take note of the screaming now louder from his headphones. Probably at him for getting eliminated. You don’t let him be though, exhaling dramatically looking back to your phone, “What’s up is your bestest, number one, most treasured, hottest friend is horny, sexually frustrated, and bored out of their mind.”
Soobin chokes on practically nothing at the casual mention of you being horny. It’s dumb, like he’s a middle school boy with no experience.
He really was not used to the ‘thing’ between you guys, like, at all. The stolen kisses (which is to be noted very quickly turn into full blown makeout sessions) when no one’s looking, the occasional need to send pics of his hard on to you, slight panic and regret settling in when he sees the ‘read’ receipt with no sign of a response for an entire five minutes (are you not in the mood? did you hate it? will you stop what you guys have going on?), or even the late night calls when you decide to facetime him instead of responding to his blurry nudes through text, and then…well, phone sex seemed to be a normal standard of your friendship. Weirdly enough.
Even if by now you’ve fucked him well over a few times that a mere mention of feeling horny shouldn’t have gotten him as flustered as it just did. But it’s so sudden, the shift from being friends who strongly, and vehemently denied of the secretly dating rumors to…secretly fucking.
“Oh yeah?” comes out a lot more in a loser way than he intended because he basically chokes it out. He’s never been nervous around you, save for the beginning of your friendship.
You’re very much aware of how unjusted Soobin is to the sudden change in your dynamic. Even you think it’s odd that the person you end up texting when you get…needy is Soobin.
Soobin was never the guy you’d think of starting anything even remotely sexual with.
You’ve known him since the years of being taller than him, and you’ve come to learn about his many deep faults along with gross habits you would never let fly under the radar if from someone else, so for him to be the exact type of man you’ve been seeking lately in bed is, well, surprising.
He seems to be the only person who can satisfy you nowadays. But you try not to show it too much, basking much more in how easily he gets flustered. It’s adorable.
“Yeah,” you sigh, shifting position from your stomach to your back and after much contemplation, deciding to take the chance of sitting up straight, “Did you really invite me over to watch you game? You know I don’t play video games.”
You don’t miss the way his eyes trail down, for sure because your chest was in full view now, his tongue prodding out just a tiny bit to wet his lips, almost like out of instinct. That dog. You show a bit of cleavage and he’s already drooling.
To be fair, it is the exact reaction you were fishing out of him. So you’re definitely not complaining.
You end up stifling a laugh, to which he immediately catches like he’s been trained to know your laughs on cue, breaking him out of his daze—an awkward coughing fit delayed a few seconds after to distract from the fact that he thinks he might’ve been caught, blush quickly warming his cheeks. “You think they’re silly, yeah, I know.
“But they’re—they’re not!” he splutters out, “I thought if you watched me play with Beo—”
“Were you just staring at my tits?” you cut him off with half the ability to not just start laughing. It’s worth seeing Soobin’s eyes widen like a cartoon character.
“No!” he says immediately— the crack of his voice doing nothing to help you keep a straight face. See? Adorable.
Then he huffs out a scoff like he’s surprised you’d ever accuse of him of such scandalous behavior. “Just because we fuck doesn’t mean I want to do you every second of the day. I respect you.”
It’s like a game of your cocked brow calling bullshit (more on the fucking thing than respecting you) and him staring back just as intensely as if he truly was not just ogling at your chest. Okay then, fair enough. You’ll get him to break. And admit to it.
“So if I did this…” you unbutton one of the two buttons of your crop top, and your eyes intently watch the way he struggles to not watch your every movement, still keeping his eyes on your face.
Stubborn. You can work with that. He won’t last long.
You drag the unbuttoning of the second one, and when it finally pops out, it’s a full view of your cleavage, cool air of the A.C being the cause of the goosebumps appearing.
And you’re right. He doesn’t last long. Barely even five seconds.
“My eyes are up here idiot.”
He doesn’t even try to hide the blushing anymore, once again licking his lips. You can see the bob of his adam apple when he finally meets your eyes. “Can I see your tits?” he says—the shame of asking is something that overtime became a numbing feeling, because with each time you casually lift your shirt at his request, the easier it gets to push down the feeling of being a pervert.
You break into a wide grin at how easy and straightforward he was—a passing thought of hoping he’s not like, like this for every living thing with fatty tissue on their chest. It’s not jealousy, god no, but it’s better if this was only between you two… for safety reasons?
You pretend to ponder on it but he should know by now that the enjoyment you get out of teasing him is way greater than any feeling.
You decide on what you’ll say, an evil smirk making way. “Am I just a pair of breasts Soobin? Just for you to ogle at? I thought you respected me.”
He shuts his eyes, whining at seeing that his words were very quick to bite him in the ass. “Please. You know I’ll be good.” he whispers the last few words and that has an affect on you. Big one.
Because he isn’t lying. Soobin’s very obedient. And god, you love it. So much.
But you don’t show that, you never do—letting him chase after something for once. Maybe if he gets a little more desperate, you’d think about a quick flash. “You have plenty of my nudes saved, can’t you jerk off to those? Y’know, like you usually do.”
Is it fair to make a jab at the occasional, every so often muffled voice messages in response to even just a slightly revealing picture that you’re asking him the opinion of, where you could hear his unstable breathing and the wet sounds of his pre cum covered shaft? Probably not, especially when you also get off of pics he’d unknowingly send to be the most delicious, mouth watering photo you’ve seen yet.
Soobin, on the other hand, is like, sure he’d go insane. Ever since he was allowed to look at you in the not-only-friends way, he took up every chance you dangled in front of him like a dog with a bone. Showing a little bit of your cleavage? His mind’s running to images. Just thinking of kissing and sucking until your tits go sore makes him so shamelessly a pervert. Seeing the head of his cock disappear between your tits when you took it upon yourself that one day of giving him a taste of what a titty fuck was like—god, it’s forever embedded into his memory.
He still sulks over the fact that you didn’t let him take a video.
Suddenly his well fitted sweats have easily become the most suffocating piece of clothing, his bulge shy of peaking through the fabric and making an obvious imprint. He tries to not look like a sore desperate loser, to look just a tiny bit cooler, but you make it so hard that he’s willing to get on his knees. Like seriously.
You’re back on your phone, looking to be disinterested which makes him bite the insides of his cheeks—already overthinking. Were you mad that he asked to see?
He tentatively puts a hand on your ankle, gauging at least some sort of reaction. You give him that—a glance. “Sorry if like, um— I didn’t invite you just for games obviously— well, okay not ‘obviously’ but I, uh, also don’t think you’re like, a floating pair of…breasts or something.” You cock a brow, really curious of where this Soobin ramble of the day would go.
“You’re my bestest friend—is that corny to say? Shit, well, you are and I think you’re smart, and obviously really funny, and bright and so pretty, like, really pretty and I mean—”
“Soobin where the fuck are you?”
You both look at the headset next to him on the bed, the yelling loud enough to transcend the reason the product was made anyway. He looks back to you and you could tell he intends on finishing his monologue. “And I mean—” he starts again before cursing under his breath at the second time he gets cut off.
“Fucking cuck, are you ignoring us?”
He groans at the stupid item, as if it just ruined a critical moment. Then he looks back at you apologetically. God, he hopes you don’t leave. “Um, well I have to keep playing they’d kill me if—” he panics a little trying to explain but you’re on another train of thought entirely, thinking that this was perfect timing.
“It’s okay, keep playing!” You say, practically gleaming.
His facial expression is a mix of skeptical confusion and desperation. But instead of questioning your enthusiasm, he bites down on his lip for a second. “You—you won’t leave, right? Don’t leave. Please.”
You shake your head, mouthing an ‘I won’t’ and finally, he lets out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding in.
He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate for you to stay. It’s not like you don’t see each other, like every day of the week or even call each other when you somehow don’t. But regardless he wants you to stay, and he doesn’t mind coming off desperate for once.
The situation at hand is too obviously right in your face.
His ramble that was cut off short by who you made out to be none other than Beomgyu, and then Heeseung was…kind of sweet.
No, it was sweet. He thinks you’re really pretty? Not just pretty but really pretty. And smart? And funny? He’s so cute holy shit you could just reach out to pinch his rosy cheeks. But you didn’t and you probably won’t. Because something else caught your attention.
His bulge.
It was too…out there for you to not subtly look down every few filler word Soobin mumbled. You’re not sure what got him to pop a full blown boner. The teasing? You only said a few sentences and showed modest reveal of your boobs. But nevertheless, you try really hard to bite away a smile because holy shit, he really is easy.
And it fucking turns you on. More than it should. And more than it would if it was any other person.
If you felt horny before, you were basically drenched when getting a glimpse of his wide eyes at seeing you on the carpet, on your knees as you’re face to face with his crotch. He seems to freeze for a second before he quickly works to get his headset off, trying to abandon the game completely.
“No.” you say sternly, grabbing his dick through his sweats, “Keep playing.”
He mouths a big ‘what’, nearly whisper shouting, his eyes bulging out. You simply shrug, feeling all too smug, and start to palm him over the fabric. He lets out a sigh of pleasure, shutting his eyes.
“Dude, why the hell are you not moving? Fuck’s wrong with Soobin today?” You hear someone yell.
“If you stop, I stop.” You mouth slowly, and he seems to catch it, hands shaking as he reluctantly picks his controller up again.
“You’re evil.”
To that, you give him a smile, not really denying it. Because maybe you were, knowing how sensitive he is.
You hope Soobin’s mic is as shitty as you’ve heard Hueningkai complain a multitude of times, because if not, he’ll have a very hard time on call with his friends from now on. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s a bragging point to have a girl suck you off while playing video games.
You imagine it’d still be a bit awkward anyway.
“How come you’re so big?” you whisper, more to yourself than him, but he catches it, and still reacts, bucking his hips to your touch, groaning. You click your tongue, pushing him down with one hand, as a warning.
“Don’t move. Don’t take your hands off the controller. And don’t make a sound.” It doesn’t take him long before he nods, obediently fixating his eyes on the tv screen.
You coo at how hard he narrows his eyes, thumbs working its action—but you want him to break. Maybe you really are evil.
And maybe he already was breaking.
He spreads his legs more and more, before lifting his ass off the mattress, already impatiently needy.
“Touch me.” he whispers, only for you to hear.
You raise a brow, huffing out a laugh as you decide that maybe you should stop playing around and pull his sweats down to his ankles. You don’t waste a second to.
When you take in the state of his cock, your mouth could water just at how pretty it looks. You’ve seen it well over a dozen times—over pics, over facetime, in real life, but you’re never not in awe each time. His slit was already bubbling precum, the thickness of his dick eye widening— It’s not like you have small hands either, and yet you still can’t fully wrap your hand around him. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his size.
And god his tip was swollen red you’re sure if you just so briefly touched it he’d spasm and jizz all over your face. So you’re gentle. Or at least, you make an attempt.
Promptly grabbing his dick again, you could feel him grow heavier when you let it sit on your hand for a second. Soobin sighs into his mic, no doubt briefly catching the attention of his friends.
“Soobin, you’re dripping.” you comment, eyes following the trail of cum running down his length to your hand. It’s more in amusement, how he’s basically on the verge of an orgasm without much from you.
You could tell he’s using his last bits of patience to not just outright fuck into your fist, and it fascinates you. You start slowly dragging your hand on his shaft, made easier to navigate with his ridiculous amount of pre cum working as lube.
You watch as he adjusts his position subtly a few times, knowing that he’s trying to keep from slipping out any whines, pursing his lips. But his eyes betray him, they looked distant—not focused. “How many kills?” you ask.
“Zero.”
You furrow your brows, pouting as you still your hands. “I’ll speed up with each kill. You have to win for me puppy or I’ll get sad.”
Soobin doesn’t know exactly how he’d aim let alone manage a kill with the way you grip the base of his cock, but he knows that despite the sincerety of your words, he doesn’t like to think that you’d get sad. He so badly wants to make you proud in some way, happy with that glint in your eyes.
So, he gets a kill.
You hear the comments from his friends, passing compliments and you smile, slowly working your hand. “Got a kill.” he says under his breath, trying his hardest to not fall into the urge of shutting his eyes. Because god, you were good.
“Yeah? For me? Get another one puppy.”
A new fire ignites in his chest as he spams buttons, yearning to hear a praise slip from your lips. The way he knits his eyebrows in concentration and had his tongue peeking out was so adorable you almost lose control. Almost.
His breathing picks up as he says, “Another one.”
You get the confirmation he’s saying the truth by his friends again and you start moving your hand unfathomably fast as a reward, your hand getting sticky. “Gooood boy, getting all the kills.”
The sudden speed gets to Soobin, faltering his streak as he holds back choked up groans, head quickly becoming light. “Too much, too much.” he whispers, soft moans slipping through his breathing. You catch the way his hands loosen its grip on the controller and you smirk.
He’s way too easy to break.
“Too much? Should I stop?”
He shakes his head again, this time more frantic. You could make out the sparkly tears threatening to spill—you’re all too familiar with this. “Please don’t.”
“Then what? What do you want me to do?” you ask slowly, wet sounds of your hand working at his dick so dirty.
“Mouth,” he sighs, not controlling the way his hips buck into your hands despite your disapproval. “Want you to put it in your mouth.”
You almost laugh—your mouth? Last time, he barely lasted a second. You’re not doing that. But you’ll tease him about it regardless.
“Put what in my mouth?”
He doesn’t waste a breath. “Cock. My cock.”
You’re not even sure if he muted his mic by now, but the way he says it in that needy, desperate broken voice is so sinful you’re surprised you haven’t jumped his bones. Too bad you won’t give him what he wants—or at least not completely.
You rub your thumb over the head of his dick, dribbles of pre-cum still messily spurting from his slit. He’s not paying attention to the game—no, his eyes were focused entirely on you. You would scold him, but you’re entirely too aroused by the way his mouth basically waters in anticipation.
You maintain eye contact when you dip your head down slowly, an experimental kitten lick on his tip and he immediately thrusts his hip, dick slipping past your lips. You pull back, expecting that exact reaction—and he whimpers. Whimpers.
It’s not hard to pick up on the screaming from his headset, his friends clearly pissed off that hes been in the same spot for well over a minute now, becoming an easy kill to enemies on the other team. “Puppy, how come you’re losing? I thought you were doing well.”
Before he could respond, you tighten your grip on his shaft, and he groans, trying to bite down the noise—maybe he didn’t mute it after all. It’s almost animalistic how he chases your hand.
But you’re not as forgiving now—misbehaving boys get punished. You lick the underside of his dick, dragging the flatness of it up to his head, saltiness of his pre-cum overpowering your tastebuds before pulling back to see Soobin has basically abandoned the game, head thrown back as both his hands grip the sheets under him, letting out broken pitched moans.
You smile, knowing you gave him the impression that you’d put him in your mouth. No, you’re here to have your fun. He peeks through an eye at feeling you do nothing more, and the moment he does, you slap—hard. Maybe a tad bit harder than you intended.
Your aim was his nutsack, balls full of cum you could see he was holding from the week you’ve challenged him to not jerk off, and god—the way his eyes fly open, jaw slacking as his legs spasm, letting out a sound you’ve never heard a man make— you wonder why you haven’t done this sooner.
“You didn’t get off like I told you to right? Good puppy.” He nods frantically, his vision fogging.
He looks so broken, tears streaming down his cheeks faster than you could even take notice of. If his friends didn’t hear him before, they definitely heard him now. He’s a hiccuping mess, nose running when you decide to give him a little more, swirling your tongue around his tip, warm in your mouth— then you pull back before he loses control and starts fucking your mouth.
“Puppy can’t talk? Your friends know how much of a whore you are now…isn’t that embarrassing?” you coo, your hand still jerking him off. “What would they say knowing you’re my little mutt, obeying each and every word like a dog in heat?”
The words are getting to him. He tried to keep quiet for the sake of his pride— anyone knowing how desperate he gets for you is a hit to his ego, it’s embarrassing the amount of things he’d do just for a chance of eating you out, but this spurs him on— having you degrade him, telling him what exactly he is to you. Your obeying dog.
You could see his lips quivering, and notice the tensing of his body. Quickly, you part your hair to the side, take him in your mouth all the way, trying to relax your throat as to not gag when your nose finally presses against his abdomen—but of course you do, it’s hard not to with how thick he is. It doesn’t take a milisecond before you feel his load spilling down your throat, his big hands moving to hold the back of your head, orgasm crashing down like waves of the pacific came over him.
You stay there for a few more seconds, feeling yourself get lightheaded with how much he manages to cum, and even when you pull away with a need to take a deep breath, you see that his dick was still spurting little bits. “Holy shit.” you say under your breath, slightly coughing as you wipe away at the semen that managed to dribble down your chin.
Soobin had a lot stored.
Soobin falls backwards on the bed, chest heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath, some of his hair plastered to his forehead and his temple. There’s a lot of thoughts spinning in his head. And he doesn’t exactly know how to label them. Lazily, he takes his headset off, throwing it to god knows where.
“Hey. Question.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you fuck other people?”
You perk up at the question, the randomness making you stay silent for a bit until you shrug. “No, not really.”
Soobin sighs. He doesn’t know why. Was it relief? Maybe. Probably.
“Do you?” you ask it almost timidly, unknowingly playing with the threads of your ripped jeans. Thank god to Soobin because he answers quickly, not allowing for any space of anxiousness.
“No. Only you.”
You slowly nod, pursing your lips. “Cool.”
“Yeah, very cool,” then his brows furrow at a thought popping up in his head, “Wait, do you like,”
You raise your brows. “Do I what?”
“Like, you know, suck off other guys?”
You scoff, he’s so ridiculous. You don’t even get to see his reaction to your answers, as you’re sitting on the floor and his back is on the mattress. “No Soobin, I don’t suck off other guys. Well, not as of recently. You’re the only one I’ve been doing this with.”
“Oh, o-okay.” You snort at the cute stutter.
Too bad you don’t catch the small ‘good’ he says under his breath.
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note: when i checked the word count I was so shocked we’re keeping that a secret 😭 appreciate any feedback!
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creepsterdreams · 4 months ago
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Little Vere imagine
Content warnings: blood, gore, angsty, Vere being a little shit to MC even though their passed out, Vere and MC in an established relationship
Word count: 1.5k
Out of all the nightmares you had while being here, this one would have been the last one you could have ever wished to come true.
In front of you stood Vere. Claws, teeth, everything he could’ve possibly used as a weapon at the ready. And behind him stood 6 Senobium clerics, all with one intention in mind.
To command him to kill you.
Of course you never did anything wrong, right? You did what you could to get into the giant tower to hopefully find something to rid of this wretched curse, but unfortunately, you failed miserably. The only good thing that came out of it was you and Vere becoming something more special, more intimate, more loving than any relationship you’ve ever had the blessing of being in.
But that same lover was the one standing in front of you, his tail fluffed up and still between his legs. And if you looked any closer, you can see that he was visibly shaking, ears pointed down as he focuses every part of his body on resisting the command, refusing to give into the thought of harming you.
But before you could speak, a cleric shouts at him, obviously irritated by his refusal. “Vere! What the hell are you waiting on? Kill them already!”
Vere lets out a short growl, growing angrier by the second. He knew what the consequences would be if the Senobium knew he had a special someone. But then again they always assumed a monster like him could never be capable of feeling something as powerful as love.
Vere looks at you again. Anger, fear, frustration, regret can all be seen in his eyes, he doesn’t want to hurt you, he can’t hurt you.
But you stared right back at him with an expression that was far too calm considering the situation.
“It’s okay, I should’ve known this was coming, what would happen if I affiliated with you.”
Vere’s eyes widened a bit more, surely you didn’t mean that? After all the time you spent together, you knew he loved you, right?
But in the midst of his panic, a strong, painful burst of magic shot through his body, causing him to stumble. The clerics were becoming increasingly impatient.
“Do we have to take care of this for you? Surely you understand that the punishment for resisting a command is a lot more severe than you think.”
Vere stood back up fully, turning to send a very deadly glare at the group before turning back to you, but this time, you weren’t even looking at him now.
But before he could drown in his own anger, his instincts took over.
Within an instant, he was on top of you, hand wrapped around your neck and claws digging into your skin brutally. He could see the blood flowing from your body, of course under any other circumstances he would’ve thought it was beauty reincarnated. But this time, all he wanted to do was do everything in his power to stop it.
As his claws dig deeper, and his free hand takes ahold of your left arm to pin it to the ground preventing you from moving, you suddenly reach up, and grasp on tightly to the collar around his neck.
You squeeze the chain as tightly as possible, mumbling something that fell deaf to Vere’s ears.
Vere looks down at your hand, wondering what could you possibly be doing. A part of him getting increasingly upset as you say nothing directly to him, seemingly not paying attention to the fact that he was destroying your wind pipe.
A small beam of black begins to tangle itself around your hand and the collar. But as its shape becomes larger, beams of white start forming, assumingely resisting whatever spell this was.
But somehow, someway, the incantation that you had used, proved to be stronger.
Vere suddenly felt as if a huge weight was lifted off of him. He looked down slowly, using the hand that was pinning your left arm to reach up and touch the place where the collar was. Or where it should’ve been.
Then he looked up, the collar was now resting in your hand, broken where the locks originally were placed. You stared back at him, breath shallow and shaky.
Vere could only stare right back at you, emotions frantic and desperate to understand what happened. “What…have you done?”
Your lips, slowly but painfully raised into a small smile, carefully reaching your hand up to place it gently on his chest. “Give them…..hell.”
And those were the last words you managed to utter before falling into unconsciousness.
The clerics heard it all, obviously pissed off by the fact that you were still alive.
“I’m assuming we haven’t beaten it into you enough that the direct order we gave wasn’t followed through?”
Vere’s ears shot up at the sound of their voice, but he didn’t turn around at all to truly acknowledge their presence.
Standing up to his full height, he was completely still, not muttering a word whatsoever.
The clerics watched as the shadows around them grew bigger, the air suddenly felt more suffocating, and the area around them laced with the feeling of nothing but pure rage.
“I think, someone needs a reminder, of who I am.”
And finally, Vere turned around. And the clerics got their answer as to why he hadn’t been listening.
“The collar!-“ the clerics words were cut off. I mean, it’s not like they would’ve been able to say anything else without a head to do the speaking.
What followed was nothing sort of pure carnage. The screaming, the blood, the fear in their eyes. Vere took pleasure in it all.
It must have been at least, ten minutes since Vere unleashed almost every bit of resentment built up over the course of centuries onto the clerics. Sure, they were only workers and weren’t the ones to actually imprison him. But they still worked for the Senobium, in his eyes he had every right to take his anger out on them.
Vere eventually is able to catch his breath, but this time, it felt a little more relaxed, now that the collar was finally off of him.
Wiping some of the blood of his hands, he walks back over to your body. And now that the adrenaline from the all the killing he just did was wearing off, a bit of panic rises in his chest.
He crouches down, using two of his fingers to press it against the side of your throat.
The pulse was faint, but it was still there.
He then picked you up, paying no attention to the blood that was currently splattered all across his body.
“My love, if you wanted to release me from that wretched thing so badly, you should’ve done so much earlier.” Even though you were completely unconscious, he still managed to find time to tease you.
He then begins his walk towards the clinic owned by the doctor he loathed so much. As much as he would’ve preferred healing you himself, this was no injury that could be fixed with some bandages and a kiss where it hurt. Also, Vere needed to figure out how you managed to break the collar, the enchantment on that thing dated back all the way back to when he was first imprisoned, you must’ve done something you shouldn’t have.
But alas, he was now free. Free to do whatever he pleased, without answering to no one.
And it was all thanks to you, his most precious treasure.
~~~~~~~
Leander finished getting ready, securing his pendent on his coat before making his way down the stares of the Wet Wick. It was oddly quiet this morning, lacking in the usual sounds of people talking as they walk down the street and others flooding the bar of the Wet Wick for a quick drink.
As he walked towards the door, he’s caught off guard by the sight of people crowding around a single area in the street. People mumbling about whatever that was going on and others reeling back in disgust at the sight. What happened?
Once Leander manages to get outside, what he see’s is truly nothing short of nauseating.
Six bodies all hung up like Christmas lights on some rope that was tied in between two buildings, their heads, obviously having been ripped off but still, somehow there. But when you looked closer, it looks as if whoever had done this put their heads on the wrong bodies, like it was some sort of cruel art project.
Leander continues to stare in disbelief, surely who ever could have done this was nothing but a maniac.
But unfortunately, Leander knew exactly who would’ve committed such a gruesome act. And he also knew that if he wanted any sort of peace with that person. He was going to have to do a lot of pleading.
If only Ais were here to help.
Authors note: this was inspired by me seeing post about wishing to see Vere absolutely lose it while protecting MC
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mxmvoreandstuff · 3 months ago
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His Rookie's Hunger.
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Jackson fumbled with the handcuffs for the fourth time that day. The suspect he was arresting smirked. Tim crossed his arms, his voice sharp and affirmative, “Again boot? That’s 4 times in one day you’ve screwed up. Secure the wrists first, then tighten.”
“I know, I know, It just slipped-”
“Slipped?” Tim cut Jackson off. “This isn’t kindergarten anymore, boot, mistakes get people killed out here.”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson muttered weakly before going back to his arrest.
The rest of Jackson’s shift dragged on. Hour after hour, relentless critique from Tim slowly pierced him like a knife. As the clock hit 9:00, signaling the end of Jackson’s shift, he clocked out and went to his car, at least until his phone rang with a notification from Tim. “Meet me at my place, and be quick,” The message read.
Jackson felt his stomach growl at the text, he hadn’t eaten all day. Maybe he’d make a meal out of his T.O.?
Jackson felt compelled by his hunger as he got into his car and started driving to the older officer’s house, not even going home to get changed first. On the way, he thought about how good Tim would taste, especially the man’s chest and groinal area. 
As Jackson parked in front of Tim’s home. He took a deep breath before he knocked on the front door. His stomach growling in both hunger and worry. 
The door swung open almost immediately, and there Tim was no longer in uniform, but sporting a tight tanktop that perfectly highlighted all the muscles he worked so hard to build up. 
Jackson paused for a moment, completely bewildered at the sight of his T.O.’s muscles being on full display.
“Uh- Sir… Hey-” “Sit.” Tim cut Jackson off as he pointed towards his couch.
Jackson sat, holding his hands together against his stomach. “Look, I know I screwed up-” “Stop,” Tim interrupted once again. “I didn’t call you here to hear some sob story. I need to know if you’re serious about this job, being a cop.” “Of course I’m serious-” Jackson was cut off again, not by Tim this time, but instead by his stomach as it growled loudly, loud enough for both men to mutually hear. 
“Seriously?” Tim scorned as he gave Jackson a very disapproving look. “First you fuck up basic cop duties and now you can’t even take care of yourself?”
Jackson blushed a deep red crimson. He actively resisted the urge to lunge at Tim, though he was clearly about to lose it. 
With one final growl from the rookie’s stomach, he finally let his hunger take over and lunged at Tim, causing them both to stumble back into a wall. Jackson opened his jaws up wide and took Tim’s head in his mouth. Tim yelped in response and started to squirm, but Jackson wrapped his arms around the officer’s waist to hold him in place. Jackson’s throat bulged as Tim was swallowed up to his shoulders. As Jackson swallowed Tim down further, he could feel both his and Tim’s cock start to harden. Their cocks grinded against each other for a moment, causing Tim to groan as he was swallowed up to his waist. Jackson at that moment regretted not taking off Tim’s tanktop, as he couldn’t savor the flavor of Tim’s meaty abs. But, the hair on Tim’s arms made up for it by providing a nice sweaty flavor for the rookie to enjoy,
Jackson swallowed again, this time up to Tim’s groin. Jackson used his hands to peel Tim’s underwear off, revealing the hard, thick, and long cock that was leaking streams of pre-cum. Jackson washed his tongue all over Tim’s cock, wrapping around it and pumping up and down. A few short moments later and Tim was moaning loudly as he climaxed, Jackson gladly swallowed the burst of semen down.
Jackson’s stomach started to bulge out. At this point, he was still in uniform, and it was clear the buttons were threatening to fly loose as more of Tim’s body entered Jackson’s stomach. After a few more swallows, Jackson was up to Tim’s feet. He gave it another swallow before the rest of Tim was now sitting comfortably in his gut. 
Jackson’s eyes widened as all his buttons suddenly flew off, his belly spilling onto his lap, full of Tim. He gave his newly round gut a few taps before reality set in. He had just eaten his own Training Officer. Jackson smiled nervously as he continued to rub his gut, that was until he accidentally let out a massive burp that shook the room and knocked down a picture off Tim’s wall. 
“Sir... I’m sorry,” Jackson drunkenly apologized as he continued to rub his swollen gut.
Jackson would lay there for a solid while, slowly dosing off into a nap as Tim nestled inside him. Maybe when he woke up, he would release Tim and beg for forgiveness to not get kicked out of the LAPD. (Boom boom I've finally written another vore fic, this time in a different fandom.)
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baffledandbewildered · 1 month ago
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“You can kill me,” Betty says, before she can talk herself out of it. Poll and Evi’s eyes light up, and she can’t bring herself to regret saying anything. They’re her… allies. They’ve been kind to her. She doesn’t lose anything by dying today - “You’ve got to give the heart back, and let me e-chest my stuff first,” she says hurriedly.
They both nod immediately, and Betty shakes her head fondly and goes to place her e-chest… 
“You’ve gotta let me leave the corner, you know,” she adds.
Evi mumbles something that sounds like a half-hearted complaint, but steps back a little, letting Betty sort through her gear. She glances up where Mari is circling above them before taking off her armour.
“Right - okay, yeah, you can kill me,” she says again, a little nervous now - she doesn’t care about dying to people she cares about, but armourless at spawn is a terrifying thing.
Pollock grins, takes out his sword, and in less than a second she’s gone, the world lighting up in a brief flare of pain that calms the moment she respawns in her bed under the ocean.
For a moment, she lays there, giggling, hand clamped over her mouth from residual paranoia. 
She was so scared of dying for so long. It’s good to be reminded that death doesn’t actually have to mean anything.
She grabs her gear and goes back to spawn, takes the heart Poll gives back to her with a laugh and presses it against her wrist, hissing a little as it settles into place alongside the others. For a moment, she’d worried she wouldn’t get it back - but they’re allies, and yes trust doesn’t come easy but their alliance is official and she doesn’t think either of the team would want to hurt her, despite the nagging voice in the back of her mind that reminds her that no one on this server is safe to be around.
She’s not sure she could call what she feels for Hamhams trust. It’s care, certainly - she’s not sure she wants to know how many hearts she’s given Evi4 over the last few weeks, and she’s tried her best to keep the both of them safe, to stand up for them - a flickering memory of sharing information and a plan with Evi crosses her mind, because messing with Hamhams is cruel and she doesn’t like it - but trust? Probably not. She knows it’s a risk to let someone kill her. She let them anyway. 
Maybe that is a kind of trust. She wouldn’t let Chips kill her all those weeks ago, even with the promise of returning the heart. She doesn’t like dying.
She doesn’t know. She doesn’t want to think about it too much. If she starts thinking about alliances and allegiances and friends and enemies she’ll start to panic and she doesn’t want to go back to the frame of mind she was in a few weeks ago. She’s fine. She’s fine.
The next day finds her and Evi and Seri at spawn, and Seri dies to lava while Betty is still reeling from a couple of messages from Cogmented and suddenly Evi and Seri are arguing about a stolen elytra and she doesn’t know what to do. She tries to de-escalate, make Evi give it back because she knows that Nara would be well in his rights to kill for this and she doesn’t want to see another Evi4 death, not today, but she’s still shaken and confused and she’s never been the best of talking people out of things at the best of times.
And somehow things have spiralled even further, with Seri being chased halfway across the ocean and bitterly it feels almost like being a bodyguard again as she runs after the two of them, not sure who she wants to save.
Cog calls her a bad ally, her relationship with Hamhams a bad alliance. She can’t exactly blame him, or any of the others who echo that sentiment.
In the end, Seri dies, Evi4 dies, and she and Evi are left alone at spawn. 
“Do you want to blow something up?” Betty offers.
“Yes!”
They settle on the hillside under Nara’s bar, next to the waterfall they built the other day when they were first experimenting with TNT minecarts and windcharges. Betty stains her hands with gunpowder as she crafts more, and the second explosion they make goes a little wrong and sends them both stumbling, blows a hole in something they didn’t mean to.
“No one has to know…” Evi says slowly. Their crown is a little crooked, knocked loose by the explosion, and Betty fixes it with a giggle and they go back to explosions. They call it date night, just for fun.
Eventually, they have to stop before they actually destroy something important, so they start building instead - there’s about 10 shulkers on the ground and so many different blocks but they somehow make it work, Evi sets herself on fire a couple of times and when she accidentally steps on a shrieker Betty yelps like she’d been shocked but it’s funny and it’s fun and - it helps, after the last few hours they’ve had. 
Evi lets her rant about Cog, too, as they work - Betty feels bad but Evi claims not to mind, and the funny insults and comments help, a lot, and by the time they’re done with the build she can joke about being mischaracterised without feeling like she’s going to pass out. She thinks it hurt Evi too, being called a bad ally, because occasionally she mentions something about their “mutually beneficial alliance” and it sounds bitter. It’s petty, maybe, but she’s glad.
Eventually, they judge the build done, and sit together on the blackstone stairs watching the sunset. Usually, Betty turns her face away in those final minutes of day, but this time watching the golden glow fade in the distance doesn’t cause something to twist in her chest. 
As they worked, earlier, Evi4 told her a secret, an important one, and the trust in that made Betty’s heart warm. She wants to give something back.
“I have a secret of my own,” she says, carefully keeping her eyes fixed on the horizon. “I’ll tell you it if you want. Not today, not here. But - I want you to know, I think.”
The next day, they meet at a stronghold - it’s not the most hidden location to disclose the most important secret of Betty’s life, not with the nether roof portal right next to them, but Evi4 wants an end-portal table and she’s not going to argue with that, even if the thought of being overheard makes her feel faint.
Betty’s been shaky all day, unable to concentrate on anything but the looming conversation - it won’t be the first time she’s said this story out loud, but it’s different today.
“Mmmm,” Evi4 says, looking around at the room. “You can talk while I decorate.”
So. Betty does. She paces as she speaks, shaking hands shoved in the pockets of her cardigan, and she doesn’t look at Evi unless Evi makes some strange comment but that helps, a lot. Poll shows up 20 minutes late to the conversation, signs a hello, and she has to restart the story for him, but by that point the panic is… lessened. Still there, simmering in her chest, but it’s manageable. And HamHams are easy to talk to - apart from when Evi decides it’s a funny bit to say “Hi Cogmented” every time she mentions his name - it makes her flinch each time, heart rate spiking briefly, but it also makes her laugh. They make her laugh a lot, honestly, Poll at one point waving for her attention then signing something that she sends her on a tangent for a good few minutes.
She needs that, really. It’s - scary, talking about this, the guilt a stabbing pain in her chest as she speaks.
Hamhams don’t try to tell her it’s not her fault. Instead, when Betty explains why, Evi, who’s been staring silently for the last few minutes, yells “BAD DECISION!”
And… he’s right. It was a bad decision. And despite the fear choking her, her shaking hands, it feels good not to be immediately dismissed. To have her mistakes recognised, and for it not to matter.
It was a bad decision. And they don’t care. 
She lets Evi kill her, when they leave the meeting room. Being Evi4, they decide to punch her to death, but the entire time they’re both laughing and Betty can’t really find it in herself to care, even as she respawns in a deepslate room with faded bruises on her skin. 
Once again, they meet at spawn, and she gets the heart back. This time it’s through Evi grabbing her hand and pressing the heart against her palm, then not letting go and using the hold to drag Betty towards the hole to bedrock and make her jump in after him.
Hamhams have the oddest ability to make the scariest situations… not. It was the same when they first spoke about allying. The conversation itself wasn’t difficult, really, but watching Poll hide his hands from her so he can sign something privately to Evi was nerve-wracking after the day she’d had so far - but within minutes she was laughing again at something he said. It’s nice.
Betty has a date with Ace the day after… the conversation. Date night 2, to use the official name, the not-at-all-flimsy cover story. Betty’s been on a lot of dates this week, and it makes her giggle when she thinks of it. 
Evi4 shows up midway through, invisible, to hand Betty three stacks of gold blocks with a hurried promise that they’re not stolen, then disappears again, but not without showing them his new armour - stolen from Cogmented, because Evi had killed it only a few hours ago - that was an awesome thing to wake up to. 
A little while later Evi finds them again, and there’s a strange look in their eyes when they look between Betty and Ace. It doesn’t feel threatening, just… thinking. Betty wants to know what they’re thinking - it’s weird, standing between the two people she’s - really, they should have a talk about labels at some point.
She finds out what Evi4 was thinking the next day. They’re just - talking, gossiping if she’s honest, and Evi is complaining about Void - “He told me to kill Ace cause Ace had an elytra after I - failed the first mace kill,” she says.
Betty freezes. Ace. “What the fuck?” she says. “What the fuck?”
“I thought about it… very briefly! But you and Ace are lovely sooo.”
“Thank you,” Betty says quietly, automatically, mind whirring. Her hands itch to grab her e-chest, look through the shulker full of books and flowers and all the other things Ace gave her - she knows the words off by heart, so she stops herself, but god it still hurts. “I - what.”
“Mhmm.”
“Can I - tell - someone? I - fuck, I don’t -”
“Only if they don’t tell…”
“Ah, alright, okay - I won’t, I just - I’m - that’s - I don’t - is this to try and break us up? Like - what the fuck -”
“What is wrongggg with himmmmm oh my god,” Evi groans.
Betty laughs shakily. She doesn’t speak for a little while more, then - “I just - can I talk to him about this?”
“Do whatever you want forever BettyIsBaffled,” Evi4 says, and it’s so reminiscent of another person who Betty misses so much that she flinches.
“Okay. Okay. I will.”
They part ways, and Betty gives in to the urge to sort through her e-chest, taking out a single allium and holding it gently in her hands. She doesn’t particularly want to look at the books - the most recent one still stings, slightly, and even though she knows things are better now she doesn’t want to think about the Gameshow and all that happened after.
The Gameshow. She puts the flower down before her shaking hands can crush it, then pulls another book out of her e-chest, this one unsigned. She doesn’t need to read this one, either, really, but she flicks through the pages anyway.
Void’s hurt Evi too - they deserve a win. Betty needs to stop feeling so conflicted.
So now she grabs her communicator and types out a message for Evi4.
I’ve thought of a really funny idea. Do you wanna try get Void with the mace when I speak to him later?
Of course, it isn’t that simple. He agrees to the location Betty and Evi had decided on earlier in the day, but plants rose bushes around him as they talk - the mace now won’t work, there’s so many panicked messages in Betty’s communicator and then an offer: Yo I’ve got TNT minecarts?
Betty doesn’t even think before responding. Do it.
Void claims he didn’t mean anything by the Ace comment. She believes them, and it does make guilt twist a little in her chest but that’s a familiar feeling by now and she swallows it down, tries to keep them talking because Evi needs a little more time for this to work -
In the end, she dies mid-sentence, the phantom sound of the explosion still ringing in her ears as she respawns. She can’t breathe for a long long moment, all the air in her lungs gone, then she gasps and the world comes back to her. It - worked? It worked. She laughs, giddy. 
Oh she is fucked, but - it worked! They did it.
She messages Evi immediately: Are you safe?
Evi says he is, so Betty digs herself down to bedrock and decides she can wait here for a little bit. There’s no point being stupid. Consequences will come sooner or later, and she can happily wait for that. 
Except… she doesn’t exactly get the chance. Evi4 dies, and their spawn point is public so moments later she’s receiving messages about Pathogen at their spawn point - Betty doesn’t even know why the entire bloody megateam is involved in this. It seems overkill but hey that’s the Pathogen way at this point…
Fuck she doesn’t know what to do especially when Evi dies, and again and Betty’s frantically messaging them trying to work out a way to get them out of spawn because Betty’s fine dying again if it means Evi is okay but Evi either doesn’t answer or answers with nonsense or “Don’t ever come back to spawn” at one point and Betty’s awful at ignoring order’s but she can’t just stay here. 
If she’s honest, Betty’s pretty close to a panic attack now, pacing back and forth in the tiny stone room she’s carved out with her now-close-to-breaking pickaxe, vision blurred with tears she won’t allow to fall - she doesn’t know if they’ll let Evi go if she goes back and if she dies she won’t be able to help at all but she doesn’t know what to do - 
In the end, she doesn’t have to choose. Nara comes and picks her up from her cave beneath the ocean, escorts her back to spawn, and Evi’s there, alive, and she runs over to them immediately. Evi4 is - he looks a little battered, bloody, his dress is torn but he’s alive and that’s what matters.
“I’m sorry - for getting you killed,” Betty says immediately. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t even worry, bro,” Evi says, then dramatically, a little clumsily, kisses her on the cheek, giggling.
Betty laughs weakly. It’s - well. That’s Evi4, really. 
She’s suddenly so so aware of the soot stains on her clothes, the throbbing half-healed burns across the left side of her body. There’s deepslate dust under her nails, and it looks almost like the gunpowder from when she built the TNT minecarts for their first date - she tears her mind away from that thought before the shaking can start again. She’s so tired.
“Can we leave?” she begs.
They end up going to the drowned farm. Betty sits on the side, tapping her fingers anxiously against the wood as they wait for drowneds to spawn - Evi needs hearts, after all. 
Evi4, who has died twice, who had offered to take the blame for this fully - it’s purposeful kindness. It’s not something Betty’s used to - she usually grows to care through circumstance, shared experiences, but Evi is trying. From the secrets shared with no expectation of anything in return, to the care for the things Betty built, to unspoken apologies, to self-sacrifice -
She thinks she trusts them. It’s taken her a while to realise.
The sun’s setting now, and the gold light reflects off Evi’s crown as they wander randomly around the platform, fishing rod in hand - the next thing Betty knows there’s a fishing hook tangled in her hair and she’s being tugged forwards, laughing, complaining, until Evi puts the fishing rod down with a giggle and pushes her towards the drowneds. Betty doesn’t even think about the sunset as she kills the monsters and rifles through the chests for shells, holding them out with a smile that is brightly echoed. 
Yeah. She trusts them.
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jennifer-jeong · 11 months ago
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Angst + Fluff | Ryomen Sukuna x Reader Next time
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hehehe see what I did with the header picture, they're leaning on each other (you'll get it if you read)
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SUMMARY Sukuna promises you he’ll be better for you in your next lives.
CONTENT NOT SPOILER FREE, suggestive, angst to fluff, gender neutral reader, it’s supposed to be a happy ending if you pretend that things don’t go according to canon LOL, very OC Sukuna so he actually has emotions, near death experiences, injuries, blood, death, suicide, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+
AUTHOR NOTES I can’t write canon Sukuna because he doesn’t even like humans 💀 Basically this is pookie Sukuna LOL There’s a lot of deviation from canon in this fic. I'm probably going to make a smut portion to this in a separate fic so stay tuned hehe, I'll link it here if I finish it!
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WORD COUNT: 2244 why did this turn out so long... maybe I actually do like him
Back in the Heian period (a millenia ago), Ryomen Sukuna, “the king of curses,” peaked in power. At the same time, you were just getting started with your adult life. Unfortunately at this moment, however, it seemed that it would be cut short. A strong, locust-like, curse manifested in your village and you’ve been trying your best to stop it but to no avail. In fact, it’s currently pinning your body to the ground, trying to bite your head off. You imagine that the curse came to be due to the fear of famine in your farms, but you didn’t think it’d be this strong. You struggle but the curse is much larger than you are. You don’t even know what your last words should be, your mind going blank in panic. Your life starting to flash before your eyes-
“I suggest you fuck off my turf,” says a dangerously domineering voice. The curse looks up down the road and sees something you can’t in your current position. You barely need to look to figure out who it is though. The curse above you freezes in pure fear and eases up on crushing your body in a jolt. You hear the same voice “tsk” at the curse’s “disrespectful” hesitation and suddenly the giant bug flies in a seemingly random direction before essentially exploding due to the force. You sit up slightly with shock evident on your face, you turn around to finally see your unfortunate savior. He takes your silent shock as confusion and explains “the area is mine… filthy curses have no right to do as they please around here.” Your body feels heavy from the sheer aura of power he gives off but you can’t help but still make a mildly disgusted face at him for what he’s saying. You’ve heard he treats humans like livestock and you have always despised him for having power like that and choosing to do this instead of something good. He makes an angered face back saying “hah?” and just when you start to regret your choice of facial expression, he rolls his eyes and walks away. You pause for a few seconds before taking a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You mutter a “thanks” that you don’t think he hears before heading back to your home to tend your wounds.
Sukuna had been watching you recently. It was no coincidence that he appeared in front of you that night. He first noticed you when you were able to kill any of the curses that attacked your village. He watched, quite amused, that you continued to struggle with no fear against these monsters while the rest of your idiotic village sat back and watched, some even calling you insane despite you saving their lives. Sukuna doesn’t understand why you don’t just beat up the humans that don’t listen. You let them take advantage of your kindness even though you could wipe them all out with an arm tied behind your back. You’re overly kind but you still have the guts to stand up to someone like him. He heard your small mutter of gratitude while he walked away and smiled slightly. He’s never met someone he actually felt bad for in this way. He’s found something he feels pity for, and it’s enough to make him want to protect it, treat it like it’s special.
So now you’re here, a few days later in his temple, bowing 90 degrees in front of him with an offering in your hand. You came here to show him respect for not killing you or the other villagers. He’s impressed you even found him and more impressed that you made the trek here. He walks towards you and reaches for your chin with his hand to make you look at him and stand up. His eyes inspect your slightly flustered face while his thumb very slightly caresses your chin. He releases his hold on your face and takes the offering. You stand there, still on guard and weary of the man. But you know he hasn’t done anything to your village in the time that you’ve been alive, you just know he’s the “disgraced one” and that it can’t be good.
For the next few weeks, your time is spent half at the village and half at Sukuna’s temple. He decided to help you with the journey by just teleporting you with a “simple” technique that you couldn’t comprehend. You slowly discover that Sukuna is actually just so strong he’s bored, no one really stands on equal ground with him. Even if all the sorcerers in the world fought him, he’s confident he’d win, and you don’t doubt it (canon).
He thinks it’s cute that you still go back to the village to help out here and there. He’s only okay with it now because he can watch over you and intervene if anyone wants to be rude. Many of the villagers are kind to you from a distance, only some actually approach you to thank you from time to time. A small group of the villagers unfortunately highly suspect you to be a curse of some sort though and don’t trust you because you’re so powerful. You’ve only ever done good with your power and you know that for a fact, so you ignore them. Sukuna, however, sits in his temple absolutely fuming whenever they interact with you, he’d maim them if you told him to, but you specifically told him he can’t hurt any humans unless they attack first.
Sukuna enjoys watching your little daily endeavors, smiling whenever you’re clumsy while cleaning or when you accomplish hunting down and killing some curses. It brings a sense of innocent joy to his life that he hasn’t ever really had. He’s had violent, murderous joy in his life, but nothing like this before. Some might say it made him soft, but really it made him stronger in a sense, he finally had something to protect.
As time goes on and seasons change, you and Sukuna only grow closer. You can’t explain why you’re still here with someone you used to hate with every fiber of your being. You think it might have something to do with how he actually sees you. He sees your struggle and your kindness and properly appreciates you for it. No one else in your life has done that for you. No one protects you and cares for you like he does. You also learned that he’s always been pretty good or at least neutral in using his power too. Only killing humans when attacked, beating up strong sorcerers but not killing them, and killing curses that bother him in his land. He was never actually as bad as the rumors made him out to be. Basically, Sukuna fell first and fell harder before you realized that you had fallen all the same.
Sukuna can’t help but be a little obsessive over you. You’re the only one he has eyes for afterall. He always checks in to make sure you’re safe when you aren’t at the temple and actually learns how to cook new dishes so he can feed you. His touches always linger on you: his hands on the small of your back, fingers brushing through your hair, lips ghosting over your skin. When you spend nights together, he’s essentially worshiping your body, telling you how beautiful you are and how he’s all yours. You make sure to return the favor and make him feel loved, it makes his heart feel so full and only deepens his love for you.
You’ve discovered overtime that Sukuna is actually human, he’s just so unbelievably strong and feared that people think he’s a curse. It was strange, you could almost draw a parallel between Sukuna and yourself. Both of you were feared by some because they just didn’t understand you or your intentions. It was an unfortunate part of this reality, but as long as you could live happily together, you didn’t really mind.
Another unfortunate part of this reality, though, was that things never go according to plan. Your plans of living happily together with Sukuna quickly fell apart soon after your 3 year anniversary. The sorcerers knew that they could use you to bait Sukuna and have a much better chance at defeating him. So that’s exactly what they did. They caught you when you were out in the village in the late summer. You were strong, but there were too many of them.
It was doomed before it even started.
In the end, Sukuna is out of energy, being forced to fight offensively instead of defensively if he wanted to save you. You managed to escape to return to him and help, but you were both quickly overwhelmed since the sorcerers decided to play dirty like this. You were both sitting outside of the temple, having teleported away to buy some time. You both just sit and talk. “Have we even killed anything other than curses recently?” you question. He chuckles at your seemingly lighthearted question in this situation, “not that I can think of… I think this was always coming for me though.” You look up at him with concern, he can only smile back even though you can see the clear sorrow in his eyes. “Humans are always scared of what they don’t understand. It’s just how it is” he says as he closes his eyes and enjoys the sun. The warmth drying the blood on both of you, some of it belonging to you both, most of it belonging to your attackers. You’re silent, not sure of what to say in what seems to be your last few moments. He leans on you and you turn your head to touch foreheads. He sighs and says “I’m glad I met you at all though… You showed me what being loved is like. It was something I never thought I’d find or deserve.” You start to tear up and reach a hand to caress his cheek. “You always deserved love, darling. I’m sorry the world was so horrible to you,” you say to him in a gentle voice. “Don’t apologize, love” he says as he kisses your forehead and wraps an arm around you.
“Maybe if we can get them to hate us enough, they’ll curse us together and we can live on like that” you say jokingly. He chuckles and says “wow you really do like me, huh?” You both laugh and hold each other.
A group of sorcerers are within view and are approaching fast. You give him one last kiss and speak your last words to him: “maybe we’ll reincarnate together someday. Maybe as curses, maybe as humans.” His eyes soften with sadness written all over his face “if that happens, I promise our lives won’t be like this one… I want to be a good man for you next time… I’d give all this power up if I could just live a long and happy life with you.” You close your eyes as tears fall. Your eyebrows scrunch as the pain washes over you, physically and emotionally. You see him tear up ever so slightly and whisper “I’m sorry for all the trouble, my love.” “Just make it up to me next time,” you giggle. He knows you never blamed him. He smiles.
You always knew what you were getting into when you approached Sukuna. It was dangerous, delusional, and stupid. But you know you would’ve never had it any other way.
You both still sat side by side, foreheads touching, holding each other. You quickly charged two shots of cursed energy. One piercing his skull, the other, yours.
You eventually become a small part mentioned by people when they retell the tale of the king of curses. Many described you as a traitor or as a curse. But some could see that you prevented Sukuna from spiraling deeper into his distaste for humans. Without you, he might have become a sadistic psychopath as time went on since no one would have any way to kill him. They praised you for that, thinking you did it on purpose to save the nearby villages. Both these ideas were lost in history though. In modern times it’s only written in some books at jujutsu high as hypotheses. No one truly knew what happened.
Sukuna’s powers sealed into his fingers upon death. A technique he used on himself before he met you and one he long forgot about. The sorcerers, out of fear, scattered his indestructible fingers to prevent anyone getting their hands on them and reincarnating the king of curses. Hoping to keep the man dead.
Again, reality makes sure things don’t go to plan, and it’s Yuji’s first day meeting some of his classmates. Sukuna has been wondering what to do since he’s been reincarnated into Yuji’s body. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet in Yuji’s mind and it makes everyone question if Sukuna is really the evil being they all thought he was.
Sukuna is barely paying attention until he feels a familiar warmth walk into the room, not even needing to see you to know who you were. He couldn’t believe it, he almost laughed, thinking that the universe really brought you two back together after more than a thousand years. But he paused, suddenly serious because he realized he had a chance to make things, not right, but different.
After class, Sukuna switches with Yuji, and lo and behold, you show him the exact same disgusted face you made to him centuries ago when he came to greet you in Yuji’s body. It made him smile as he let out a whisper,
“I missed you.”
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|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||
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writers-hes · 2 years ago
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The Blind Man
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You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn’t realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps, depictions of mental illness, abusive marriage)
They finally meet.
PART 1 / PART 2
PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation
BIRMINGHAM, 1919
There was nothing discreet with how you dressed. You were in all black, a black veil shielding you from the onlookers. Simon sent some money to Johnny’s wife, Beth, for a proper wake. His house was filled with white flowers and proper food. It’s the least he could do, that’s what he said. You were sitting beside the widow, trying to console her.
“Johnny used to talk about you alot,” she weeped. “‘That’s my girl! That’s my daughter and she’ll go places!’ That’s what he always said. He told me how you grew up in the brothel and how you were always willing to listen to his lessons in arithmetic.” Her eyes were red from crying and all you could do was console her. “Thank you for taking care of him…for taking care of us,”
“It’s nothing, Beth,” you assured her. “He let me into his bunker when my mum died,” you recalled. “He protected me from…from…as much as he could, you know?”
God. Just how many people could you lose in this fucking lifetime? First, your father but you’ve never really weeped for him. You never knew him. Second, your mum. She took care of you with how little she had. Third, Tommy. You never heard back if he was alive or not. Your protector. Fourth, Big Johnny. He’s always been the male figure that you considered as your father. Who’s next?
“I’m grateful for him,” you managed to choke out. You asked your security guards to go somewhere else, maybe a few feet or metres from the house. You wanted privacy. “I’m just so regretful to never have seen him and now he’s gone…”
Johnny died because of a rumble with some of the newer gangs in Small Heath. Some young lads mugged him on the way home and killed him. They threw his body by the docks where they thought no one would ever see him.
Your body suddenly fills with rage. Was this the work of the Blinders? Fuck. Why would they fucking do that? Beth excuses herself from you and you nodded. Picking on the rings on your fingers, you didn’t notice who sat beside you. 
“Seems like we only see each other at weddings and funerals,” You gasped, looking at the source of the familiar voice. How could you ever forget? She told you what you needed to do to survive. 
“Polly,” you gasped, extending your shaky hands towards her. “How have you been?”
“I’m good,” she replied. “Who would’ve thought, huh?” she asked. She lets you clutch her hand for support. “Where’s Simon?”
“He has business in Camden Town,” you replied. “He allowed me to go but there’s security around us right now. We can’t really talk, Poll—he’s going to, he’s going to—“
“I’ve handled it,” she said. “You can talk to me as freely as you would like, okay?” You nodded. 
“I’m sorry for…for leaving,” you whispered. Your voice wavers and you feel the wetness in your eyes. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Darling…”
“He threatened to kill Tommy, Arthur, and John if I didn’t obey,” you confessed. “During the…the war,” You shut your eyes to hide from Polly. Her heart aches. You’ve always been reluctant to show your emotions but you are visibly hiding now. Cowering from the fear of rejection and of humiliation from Polly Gray. “He said that-that he knew people who could finish the job.”
“Don’t hide,” she coos. Your obedience was not in vain but she’d never tell you that. She didn’t want Tommy to act impulsively and she didn’t want you to lose what you already have. “How are you? You don’t need permission from a man, you know,”
“I know,” you nod. “You always told me but…Simon is all I have now. He trusts me and I don’t want to break that trust that I’ve worked so hard on. You told me to take advantage of everything and I am,”
“What have you been doing?”
“I have trusts, bonds, and investments to my name now. Simon couldn’t take them away from me. All sealed with a document that my lawyers reviewed,” you told her. Once a prostitute, always a prostitute.
“Johnny and I taught you well then,” she nods in approval. “That’s good. We miss you,”
“I’m sorry,” you said. “Where’s Ada? I’ve to thank her for the house,”
“If anything, she has you to thank. She’s been going there a lot since you left. She said she feels more at peace there,” Polly replied. “When are you leaving?”
“After the burial,” you replied. “I have to leave and go to uh, Italy with Simon,”
“For what?”
“Some…business thing.” you replied. 
“He’s showing you the world?” she asked, gesturing to your clothes. You knew it. It was too much for a funeral.
“Yeah. It’s too much isn’t it? I can-I can change into something else but, he likes these clothes,” you told her. “But can I—“
“No, you look good,” she says, stopping you from your worries. “You look like who you’re supposed to be,”
You look like who you’re supposed to be. If it was any other person, you’d be offended; but this was Polly. She always told you that you didn’t belong in Small Heath. “You’re too pure to belong here forever.” She’d always say. It’s funny, you felt like you never belonged in Simon’s world no matter how hard he tried to put you in it. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to ask about Tommy and his brothers. How could you? You were too scared to know the answer. If Polly didn’t mention it, it’s probably for the best.
“I do wish you’d visit us more but I know your circumstances,” she said. “I received the letter from Simon along with a cheque of a few thousand pounds,”
“Did you encash it?” you asked. 
“No,” she replied. Somehow, that gave you comfort. She couldn’t be bought. “I did it because I was so worried about what could happen to you. It didn’t have any details. It just said that he’d appreciate it if we cease all contact. He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”
“No,” you shook your head. Not yet. “As unimaginable as it all is, he has never. I truly believe that he loves me, Pol. He tells me every day. He heeds everything that I say or do and has never had a mistress but I feel so terrible because I don’t love him that way,” you confessed, feeling like the weight of the world just lifted itself on your shoulders. “I’m terrible,”
“You’re not,” Polly said. “I told you to take advantage of everything but I never told you to love him, did I?”
-
You went home that day feeling lighter. You could always confide in Polly whenever you needed. You were just so heartbroken to know that that could probably never happen again. Your servants have left now. You told them that you didn’t need them during the night because of how small the house was. They stayed at a lodging for labourers nearby; except for the guards. They came with you wherever you go, even if it was only at a distance. 
You were putting away the heavy gold earrings in the vanity in your room. It was dark, except for the lamp that you opened by the bed. 
“You should really change your locks,” Your head whipped, earrings falling on the ground. 
“Tommy?” you asked, rushing towards him in your most comfortable clothes. It was a long sleeved pyjama shirt that Simon owned. Tommy didn’t like it. “Oh my God. You’re here,” you breathed, shaky hands touching his arm. ��You’re here…you’re here,”
“And you’re here,” he says, his voice void of emotion. He looked for the pressed flowers in the frame that usually sat on your vanity. It was gone. “You left,”
“I didn’t want to,” you said, removing your hands from him when you felt how cold he was.
“Did you plan on coming back? At all?” he asked. His rage blinds him. Why was he so cold and cruel? Why couldn’t he tell you how happy he was to see you again? He didn’t know how to handle his emotions. Years of longing…of heartbreak…of wondering if he could ever be good enough came down on him. 
“Tommy?”
“It’s just a funny thing, isn’t it?” he chuckled, lighting up his cigarette. “You leave, make your way into the world, and then expect things to be the same.”
You frowned. 
“It’s a funny thing. You promised to wait for me and you didn’t,” he spat. “All I ever looked at was your photo in those four years and you—“
“I didn’t want to leave, Tommy,” you whispered. 
“But you did!” he exclaims. “You left me! You…you left me and married someone else. You decided that I could never grant my promises and fucked someone else. Like a…like…”
“Like what, Tommy?” you asked, stepping away from him. “Like a whore?” He’s never thought of you like that before.
“I never said that,”
“But you thought it!” You sit on your bed. “You see me like how everyone sees me. Fuck,” you shook, shielding yourself away from him. “How could you ruin this for us?”
“No, I’m—“
“Then, what? What is it, Tommy? You come in here to my house and pick a fight. You can’t blame me for the choices that I made! I had no idea if you were coming back. What else was I supposed to do?”
“Wait for me,” he demanded. “I told you to wait for me. I’ve been building us everything that we ever wanted but you were just so impatient,”
“How could I if you never wrote back?”
You looked up at him through teary eyes. You finally gave him the chance to look at you. You looked older, despite the garb that you were wearing. The sparkle was gone. You looked up at him. He’s different. Detached, cold, and emotionless. The blue eyes that used to convey so much emotion were gone. He wasn’t letting you in like he used to. 
You both changed.
A shimmer on your neck catches his attention. It was his mother’s locket. You catch his eyes casting down on it. 
“I forgot,” you croaked, looking away. “I’m supposed to give this to you.” He wasn’t your Tommy anymore.
“No, you should keep it,”
“It’s okay,” you nod, removing the locket from your person and putting it on the bed. It was the first time you’ve ever removed it and it felt like you were removing a leash. “You own it. You should give it to someone else. Someone that’s…that’s not me,”
“Y/N…love,” he tried but you shook his head. “It always belonged to you.”
“We’re not the same people anymore, Tom. You look at me and-and it’s how everyone else does,” you cried. “Like a whore. I’m selling my body and my future for a life like this. Right? I don’t want to have this anymore,” you said. “We grew apart and we’re older now. We’re not the same people,” You don’t love me anymore.
There was hell and there was a place below hell. It was where he was. How could he be so cruel to make you cry? How could he insinuate that you were all the same? How could you hint that he doesn’t love you anymore?
“I waited for you, Tommy. Waited for you to write back and at first, I felt…sad. Then, angry. You think I’m so disposable. So replaceable, right?” you asked. “I sent you letters every week. You always told me you’d protect me but you couldn’t even send me a letter telling me that you were alright. You couldn’t even protect Johnny!”
Maybe if he told you that it was Polly who intercepted those letters, you wouldn’t be so mad at him. Maybe you wouldn’t think that he’d abandon you so easily. Maybe you’d know that you were the only face that got him out of the tunnels. Maybe you’d know that it was your name that made him feel good. Like your name was some prayer he’s worthy enough to say every time that he felt like he was underground again. But how could he hurt you more than he already did?
“You were the one who replaced me,” Maybe you’d finally know that he loves you and that, if you could have just waited a little bit longer, you’d never have to worry if your hair was out of place.
“There was nothing to replace.”
-
Tommy brews in anger. To Polly, to you, and to himself. He couldn’t tell you that Polly intercepted your letters. He didn’t want to cut your relationship with her too. 
“Fuck!” he roared. The barmaid comes in and asks Tommy if he was okay. He shrugs her off but seems intent on staying.
“Do you want me to sing for you?” she asked. He leans back, uninterested. 
“Sure,”
“Happy or sad?” she asked. 
“Uh, sad,” 
“It’ll break your heart,” she says, smiling softly.
“Already broken,” he muttered. Already broken. 
He sits there, unmoving. To be honest, he didn’t know why he was so mad at you. He was truly, utterly, and irrevocably alone now that you were gone. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to being alone. He prefered it sometimes. Maybe it’s because he always expected for the two of you to be alone together. Like you always were. 
The fear of being unknown to you scares him. You’ve always known him—his whole heart and his whole soul. You’ve always known him but now, you’re gone. You’ll never know him the way you knew him. You were too different now and it rips through him like nothing else. You’ll never be there for him like you did. He’ll never know you like he did once. He could never pinpoint it but he hates how he was never enough for you. If only he could provide, if he could only protect, if only…
Here he thought he’d finally have a wink of sleep after four years. 
-
You were on the phone with your husband after Tommy stormed out in anger last night. You needed to be comforted, to be told that you were right and that everyone else was wrong. It was one of the few luxuries you allowed yourself when you were with Tommy but you were positive that you’ve lost him now.
“Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. “I can always come down there, you know,”
“I know,” you nodded. “I just miss you,” 
“You do?” You could tell that that inflated his ego. “If it’s any consolation, I missed you too,”
“Do you think…do you think you can be here for the funeral?” you asked before you could even stop yourself. Why were you bringing him here when Tommy was around? Were you bringing him here out of spite? To make Tommy what? Jealous? But then again, was it a sin to ask for comfort from your husband? Tommy would never understand. He was quick to tell you what he thought of you yesterday. It was the first time he did it but you couldn’t get it out of your head. If to him, you were a whore, then a whore you’d be. 
It was the only thing you were good at anyway. 
“Of course,” he nodded. “This thing with Solomons is just shit work anyway. I’ll be there the day before. Will that be alright?” 
“Yes,” you whispered. Are you really willing to let him inside the fort you’ve built with Tommy? “I lost my mom’s locket today and I…” 
“You did?” he asked. He knew how important that locket was to you. You begged him to not take it off during your wedding. If only he knew. He bought you jewels but you never wore another necklace. “We can get you another one. Something that’s even more beautiful than the one you had.”
“I suppose so,” you sighed. “I love you,” 
“I love you too.”
And you weren’t sure if you were still lying. 
-
Simon arrives at your house sometime in the morning, before the sun rises. It was his first time seeing your house—being in your house. It was a small, shabby home with flowers. Have you always liked flowers? One of the servants opened the door for him and he entered. Poor you. Did you always live like this? 
He spots you reading a book on the couch when you look up at him.
“How was your trip?” You close the book and sit upright. “I hope it wasn’t horrible,”
“I’m here now,” he sits down, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “You’ve been on my mind since you left. Is there anything I have to know?”
“I…I talked to Polly,” you confessed. The grip that he has on your waist tightens. “But we only talked about Johnny. She said that the police aren’t doing anything to know who killed him.”
“I see,” 
“But I left after that. I’ve never seen her since,” you said truthfully. “I told her that we couldn’t meet again,”
“Thank you for not breaking my trust,” he said, removing his grip on you. “You know it’s for us, right?”
“Yes, I know,” you nodded. This is wrong. This is all wrong. Why were you understanding him more? Are you only agreeing with Simon because you hated Tommy at that moment? What’s the sudden change? 
You were all gathered at Johnny's funeral. Simon was beside you, holding your waist protectively. Beth was a wailing mess by the coffin. They were putting him six feet under. Last night was the last time she’ll ever see Johnny’s physical body again. You were bowing your head down, trying to keep your tears away. Johnny had been the father figure and now, he’s gone too. 
The ceremony ends soon enough with Simon never letting go of your body. The Shelbys have noticed. Simon was basically hounding you so you wouldn’t have to talk to others. 
“I sometimes wonder if she stopped talking to us because she wanted to or if she was forced to,” Arthur said, looking at you and your husband. Ada was looking at Polly. They were the only ones who knew. They both agreed to never tell a soul because of how messy things could be. Tommy would wage a war if it concerned you. “The question is why is she letting him?”
Tommy walks to where you were. He clears his throat to make himself known. He watches your figure become rigid. Simon was looking at him, his hand still on your waist. If he could shoot this prick’s hand for even laying a hand on you—
“I’m Tommy Shelby,” he starts. “I just decided to come by and offer a quick greeting to your wife.”
“Of course, Mr. Shelby,” Simon replied, his voice was strained and you were scared. Terrified. “Y/N didn’t tell me about you. Have you, darling?” There was a threat in his voice.
“Oh,” you nod, licking your lips. Your voice was wavering. “Mr. Shelby i-is someone I knew when I was a child, darling. He left for the war and…and…”
“We haven’t seen each other since,” he finishes.  “I wish we could talk more,” Tommy added, confirming what he already thought. He didn’t spare you a glance and if he did, he didn’t make a show of it. “Mr. Coventry. Y/N,” he bowed, taking your gloved hand and kissing your knuckles. He walks away, leaving Simon’s anger and your anxiety behind him. 
Simon didn’t speak to you on the way back. You tried but he only dismissed you with a cold shoulder. When you arrived home, he dragged you by the arm to the living room. You watched while the servants dispersed to give you some privacy. It was funny how they always pretended that they knew nothing.
“Do you really think I’m fucking stupid?” he roared, his loud voice vibrating the walls of your home. “You talked to Polly Gray but didn’t meet Tommy. At all,”
“You have to believe me, Simon. I never…it’s my first time seeing him again!” you pleaded, scared for Tommy’s life—scared for yours. Your arm hurts but you have bigger problems right now. What was a little bruise anyway? “I didn’t even know if he was still alive,”
“Can you shut the fuck up?” he asked. “It’s like everything that you’re saying are…are lies! I gave you everything,” he spits. “I gave you and your friends money. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be in that fucking brothel fucking some twat who could never afford everything that I’m giving you. Is that what you want? Do you want to go back there?”
“Simon,” you tried. “I swear, I didn’t know he was still alive. Polly never told me. I—“
“Liar!” he says, stepping closer to you. He grasps your chin tightly, your head unmoving at the pressure. “I bought you. Don’t you dare fucking disrespect me. I own you,” 
“Simon, please…” you cried. “I swear to you I didn’t…”
“Shut up,” he spits. “You’re fucking disgusting,”
He shoves you to the floor and you cry. He leaves without looking at you. He didn’t apologise for what he did. It was the first time he showed you what you were to him. A property. You didn’t sleep that night; you were just on the balcony, looking at the docks, wondering what would’ve happened if you had just waited. 
-
The morning comes and you are tired. Simon just woke up and decided to stay with you on the balcony. 
“I’m sorry, angel,” he whispers. He wraps his arms around your shoulders. “I’m sorry for doing that. I promise to never do that again. I was just…so angry because Tommy Shelby came to us. Do you see why you’re not allowed to be here? Why I hate it when you’re in Birmingham? These fucking rats have no respect,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
“Simon, you said things,” you whispered, looking up at him. Tears stained your cheeks. Everything that he said replayed inside your head over and over.  What right did you have to demand his apology if he owned you? “You…”
Defeated, Simon sighs.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You know that I’m doing this for us. I’m sorry,”
You could only nod wordlessly, blinking away the tears before they fall again. You didn’t notice the bruising on your jaw yet. You weren’t at the brothel anymore but up to what extent are you truly free? At the end of the day, you’re still weak. You still have nothing. At the end of the day, buttering him up doesn’t matter.
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1912
“One day, we’ll be able to buy those fancy, black cars and drive around London as much as we want.” Tommy said. He was in his work clothes, a greasy white shirt and his shaggy hair falling in different sorts of places. 
“We will?”
“Yes,” he nodded, his shoulder touching yours. You were just about to work when he pulled you away. He asked if you wanted to come with him to The Cut for a little while and you agreed, finding it hard to say no to him. “I’ll get you one and then, I’ll get you a horse.” 
“Don’t forget the house with a big lawn,” you giggled. 
“How could I forget?” he asked. “I’ll buy that first,”
“Would you hate me if things don’t work out the way we want them to?” you asked. “I’m just wondering,”
“Why wouldn’t it? We’re staying together,” Tommy said, casting you a confused look. 
“I mean, you’ll get a wife. I can’t live in the same house as her,” you said. “I don’t want to cause unnecessary problems for the two of you. I want her to be my friend too.”
“I’m not marrying,” he said. “Why should I marry? We come as a pair. Never one without the other. We won’t need anyone else,”
“That would be nice.”
“I get it,” he nodded. “You’re always my main priority. I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about all that yet. As long as you’re with me, I’ll be fine,”
“And if I’m not?”
“I won’t,”
“How are you going to do all this?” you asked. You always believed in Tommy.
“I’ll do everything,” 
“You’re a man of ambition, Tommy. Did you know that you can’t have ambition without being a little dangerous?”
He ponders. He’ll deal all of his cards and fold if it came to you.
There were a million things you wanted to tell him at that moment. He does, too. He looks at you so…lovingly and so naturally that it doesn’t seem like anything anymore. Tommy really didn’t fear anything, except when it came to you. He’s scared to tell you the truth because he might change the course of things. He’s scared to never fulfil all of his promises to you. He’s scared that he’ll never amount to anything other than a greasy boy that you took care of. 
He doesn’t say any of this, though, so he just smokes slow. 
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1919
“I have to do something about it,” Tommy told his brothers, taking a swig of his Irish whiskey. He was composed but his mind was running at a speed that he couldn’t quite catch up on. Were you happy in your marriage?
“Tom, it’s better if you could just let her go,” Arthur replied. “It’s not my place, hm? But we saw them yesterday. Maybe it’s for the best,”
“It’s not,” Stoic as ever, he looked ahead. 
“It’s a bad idea…” his older brother tried. “You’re fighting against a king. You’re not—“
“Why is everyone telling me that I can’t do anything? Why?” he asked. “I hardly recall asking for your permission, Arthur. You and Polly have been telling me what I can and can’t do.” 
“Tommy, think about it. With the fucking guns and taking on this whole…thing with her. It’s too big. So, just let it go, eh? You’ll get yourself killed,” John added. He knew of Tommy’s affections for you. Hell, he knew what Tommy meant. John discreetly watched you and your husband. You couldn’t maintain eye contact, you couldn’t speak freely without a stutter. It was so different from the Y/N that he used to know but Tommy couldn’t be persuaded. He was living on the edge of life in the war that it didn’t matter to him if he died or not. He’s free from the fear of death; he could do whatever he wanted. 
“I’m a man of ambition. You can’t have ambition without being a little dangerous,”
-
BANG! BANG! BANG! 
Tommy feels like the world was caving in. Fuck. He always hated sleeping, no matter how much he craved it. The darkness of his room and his closed eyes reminds him of the darkness of the tunnels. The walls and the tightness of the closed spaces; the unknown waiting on the other side. The lives he lost, the blood that his comrades spilled. He sits up, he hates how he couldn’t sleep because he’s always hearing the gunshots and the bombs in France. He hates being weak. Things were never the same and he so desperately wanted it to be. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. He couldn’t see the faint lamp that burned on his bedside table. The ringing in his ears doesn’t subside. It was just fucking dark. 
He looks over his bedside table and reaches for your picture. You always seemed to calm him no matter where he went. No matter what he does, you always seem to ground him.
“Y/N,” he whispered, taking a swig of his whiskey. As if that would just conjure you. He was sometimes convinced that your picture was an apparition of the time when everything was quieter. When his world had no guns and bombs. When you two were together. He frowns, taking his head in between his hands and cries. 
If only he was stronger. If only he was rich. If only he could fulfil all of the promises he gave you. If only.
-
If there was anything he regretted, it was how angry he was when he went to your old house for your first meeting. He’s been waiting to be graced by your smile for years but he couldn’t control the anger that brewed inside him. He was so guarded after the war. But those guards seem to crumble around you, leaving him defenceless and vulnerable like a child. 
A knock on his door arouses him. It was currently just before the sunrise; that hazy blue period that calms him before everyone else wakes. He checked from his window outside but there was nothing. Another knock comes and he sighs, going downstairs to check. He puts his gun behind him. He opens the door and it reveals you.
You were shaking like a leaf when his eyes landed on your figure. 
“I don’t know…where else to…to go,” you whispered. He goes out and looks around to make sure that no one’s there. When the coast is clear, he takes your hand and guides you to the living room. He was hoping that no one heard anything.
“Do you need anything?” he asked. 
“Just…water, please,” 
“Did you walk all the way?” 
“Yeah,” he hears you say while he pours you a glass. “Sorry for disturbing you,” 
“It’s alright,” he tells you, giving you the glass. 
“Yeah,” you replied, drinking the water to avoid any sort of communication with your old friend. “Tommy?”
“Hm?” he asked, sitting in front of you and it’s so different it hurts. He used to sit beside you, knee to knee. He had to blink multiple times to clear his vision—to make sure that you were actually there. “What brings you here?”
“I…I…” you couldn’t say a single word before you broke into tears. It was then when Tommy actually looked at you, the bruising on your chin, your defeated stance. He trembles in anger but forces himself to let it subside and comfort you. “S-sorry,”
“Hey, hey. It’s okay, love,” he whispers, sitting beside you this time and rubbing circles on your back. “You don’t have to talk about it,”
“Would you still…would you still protect me?” you asked and you were aware of how selfish you sounded. “You’re right. I’m a-a whore,” you chuckled, looking away from him. “I know I’m being unfair…marrying Simon and then coming here…”
It appals him for you to think that he’ll ever stop protecting you. It disturbs him for letting you think that way because of one argument. 
Your chin was quivering as you tried to form a coherent sentence. 
“I thought…I thought I was free but he laid a hand on me,” you tried. “Gripped my chin and called me his property,”
You told yourself that it wasn’t Tommy’s fault. 
“All because you talked to me during the funeral,” you whispered. You couldn’t stop yourself and Tommy couldn’t stop himself from the emotions that linger. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault that you loved him. 
“Let’s run away,” It’s all his fault. All his fault that he loved you. 
“Tommy…” you whispered, shaking your head. “Did you know…did you know why I stopped talking to you?” you asked him. He didn’t. Maybe the reason why he’s so angry with you was because he didn’t know. “When you were in France, he told me that if I continue any form of communication with the Shelbys…he’ll locate you and your brothers and have the three of you killed.” You reveal to him. “You always said you’ll protect me but I wanted to protect you too.”
Your broken voice was something that he’ll never forget. Your fragile figure was something that he’ll never remove from his brain. You were…miserable. How could you let yourself be miserable for his sake? How could Simon let you cry? How could he break you? You were so strong, the strongest he’s ever known.
“I will kill him,” 
“Tommy, no,” you whimpered. “I’m here to tell you that…that the best way to protect me is to forget about me,”
“You can’t do that to me,” Tommy replied, his voice stern. He was trying so, so hard. “Not when I waited to come home for four years.”
“It’s the best way,” you pleaded. “You can go start a family or…or do something else but if you really want to protect me, you’ll forget about me,” 
You were so defeated, your figure curled to your heart like you were protecting yourself from everyone. Tommy could see the stutter of your body while you tried to control everything.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he tried, blinking the tears away but failing. His resolve was crumbling; popping the joints on his knuckles to ground him. It was then he noticed your nail beds, peeled and crusted with dried blood. You must have been thinking about it for so long. “You’re not giving me a choice here, love,” You must have been hurting.
“He’ll kill you, Tom. I wouldn’t be able to take it if I am the reason why your body’s thrown at The Cut.” you told him. “I let you go once without knowing for sure that you’ll come back alive. I’ll make sure that this time, you are.”
“So that’s it, eh?” he asked. “Your bastard husband threatens my life and you let him control you.” he licks his lips.
“I’m sorry, Tom,” you told him. “That's all I could do. You’re a man…you could have the world. I’m a woman and I can’t have anything unless I make it. This is me making it.” This is me making sure that I’ll never have to think about you. 
You left in the wee hours of the morning and Tommy lets you go without a fight. He thought that he was the one doing the protecting, when you’ve been protecting him all along. You were his most tender wound. Battle scars from France don't compare to the pain he’s feeling in the darkness of the house. Should he run after you? Should he heed your advice? What if he kills Simon? Will you be free then?
“Her husband’s dealing with Alfie Solomons,” he tells everyone during a family meeting. “I’ll deal with Solomons myself,”
“You’re waging a war that is bigger than all of us, Tommy,” Arthur said.
“I’m not asking for approval,” he only replied, his voice was monotonous; suppressing his emotions as much as he could. He swallows. “Information about Y/N’s home life has reached me. She told me that the best way to protect her is to forget about her.” He confessed.
“Well, shit,” Ada replied. “Surely…”
“Surely, I won’t.” he said, voice stern and determined. “I’ll deal all of my cards if I have to. Do you get that?”
“Tommy, it’s a bad idea. She’s right. With the fucking inspector on our throats and Simon Coventry…you’ll get yourself killed.”
“I have decided,”
“Then, what’s all of this for, then?”
“Just letting you know.” he says, looking at everyone’s face of disapproval. 
When he exits the Garrison, Polly runs after him. She was determined to let him let you go for your safety. It was a sticky situation that Tommy was putting himself in. A semblance of power doesn’t mean that he’s powerful but he couldn’t seem to understand that. 
“Tommy, do you want to save her because you want to or is it because you have to prove yourself to you?” she asked him, grasping his arm. 
“Polly—“
“Do you love her because you do or do you only think you do because you need her? It’s alright to let her go, Tom. You have to realise that maybe she’s correct,” she reasoned. “The more you move, the more she’s constricted—“ 
“You took her away from me, Polly,” he spits. “How can I not love her when I need her beside me to even get a wink of sleep? Her picture was all I looked at in France. She is the reason why I’m alive—why I’m here. You took her away from me and I am taking her back. Does that look like love to you?” he demanded, shaking her arm away. 
“You want to know what blinds a man as smart as you, Tom? Love,” she says. “You’re making things—“
“So I am blind,” he shrugs. “I vowed to protect her and that is a vow that I’ll take to the grave with me, Pol. You could help or not. It wouldn’t matter either way but you owe it to me to try. At least,” 
A beat passes, Polly doesn’t speak. He nods to excuse himself, walking away as the blind man.
-
A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I’m so glad you’re still here.
Don’t forget to reblog / leave a comment if you liked it!
PART 4
TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​ @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash
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candycandy00 · 5 months ago
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Finding Love in a Zombie Apocalypse - A JJK Interactive Romance Fanfic Round 5
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Read the details about this event here!
Round 1 | Round 2 | Round 3
During a zombie apocalypse, you meet a group of seven handsome men. Which one will you choose to be your survival/romantic partner?
Vote for the man you want to be eliminated! The man with the most votes will not be killed off in the story, but he will be removed from all future polls and his branching story will be closed off!
Reminder: Vote for the man you DO NOT want to survive with! You are voting someone OUT!
Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!
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Sukuna:
Sukuna is grinning and laughing as he seems to move through the zombie herd like a tornado, knocking them back with his powerful arms and stomping on their fallen bodies, skulls crunching under his boots. 
The others jump out after him, all of them doing surprisingly well at keeping the horde back. They’re clearly used to fighting. You hesitate a moment, gripping your crowbar tightly in your clammy hands before stepping to the edge of the truck and jumping out. 
While the others seem to be moving in a group, Sukuna has split off from them and is mowing zombies down as if they’re made of paper. You take a moment to decide whether to stick with the other men or stay close to Sukuna. You try to picture Sukuna losing, being overwhelmed by the sheer number of undead and dragged to the ground to be eaten. And you simply can’t imagine it. 
So you work your way toward Sukuna, to the strongest man you’ve ever met, whom you believe will never fall to the zombie horde. 
When he notices you approach, he gives you a smug grin, as if he expected you to follow him. You knock a few zombies back with your crowbar, edging closer to him, but more seem to replace them as fast as Sukuna can kill them. 
Soon, you’re surrounded on all sides, just a few feet away from the man you believe can protect you. The crowbar lodges itself in one zombie’s head, getting stuck. You try to pull it free, but you don’t have the strength. A mouth on your left bites down on your arm, but the thick gray tape protects you. For now. A pair of dead hands grip your shoulders, and you cry out in alarm. If it bites your neck, you’re a goner! 
You look to where Sukuna was only moments ago, but he’s gone! He’s far away now, clearly abandoning you to your fate. You can just see the top of his pink hair as he disappears into the distance, fighting his way through the crowd.
“Sukuna!” you scream, trying to keep from panicking. None of the other men are close enough to reach you. “Sukuna! Help me!”
The zombies are pulling you to the ground, your hands slipping from the crowbar. They pin you down, some of them trying to chew through the tape on your arms and legs. It’s only a matter of time before a set of teeth finds some of your unprotected flesh. 
You let out a garbled scream of terror, then your ragged voice manages to form words. “S-Sukuna! Please!”
It’s no use. He’s not coming back for you. Not a maniac like him. You should have stuck by Nanami and the others. Now you can only drown in your regrets as the cold zombie hands tear at your clothes, trying to reach your warm skin to feast on. 
Suddenly the zombies on top of you are torn away, their bodies sent flying across the road. Above you stands the man you thought had left you behind. Sukuna wears a complicated expression as he rips the remaining zombies away from you and scoops you into his arms. 
He carries you through the herd and off the highway, into a lightly wooded area. “Wait,” you manage to say, “what about the others?!”
“They can take care of themselves,” he replies, holding you like a father carrying a child, your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands beneath your thighs, supporting your weight with ease. 
After jogging a good distance from the road, Sukuna suddenly stops and sits you back on the ground. He motions behind you and you turn to find a cabin. It looks fairly new, and very cozy, like a vacation rental you’d see advertised on travel websites.  
“Should we knock?” you ask.
He says nothing, but steps onto the porch and pulls the door open. You start to say something about this, but it hits you that the door is unlocked. If anyone was actually staying here, that wouldn’t be the case. 
You follow Sukuna inside, and within seconds he’s already checked the whole cabin for occupants, living or otherwise. 
It’s a small, quaint cabin, probably intended for couples honeymooning. There’s one bedroom, with suspiciously romantic decor and a hot tub in the room. There’s only one floor, but there’s a ladder leading up to a small nook filled with books and a beanbag chair. The kitchen is neat and obviously sees little use. The living room is the most spacious room, with a large leather couch, a fireplace, a (probably fake) bearskin rug, and rustic style furnishings. 
“Wow, how lucky can we be?” you ask as you look around. “Finding an empty rental cabin like this is amazing.”
As you turn to see if Sukuna is even listening to you, he suddenly grabs you and pulls you to the couch, tossing you onto it on your back. He climbs on top of you, pinning you with his weight.
“Were you bitten?” he asks, his voice low and smooth. 
“No! I mean… I don’t think so…”
His hands move to your ripped shirt and tear it the rest of the way open. “You’re gonna have to show me proof if you wanna stick with me. Now take your clothes off. If you’re safe, I might even give you a reward,” he adds with a smirk. 
You gulp, feeling heat spread through your body as he stands up to give you space. Your face burns as you begin pulling off your clothes under his intense, crimson gaze.
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Gojo:
You feel a chill run down your spine when you learn about Gojo’s plan to take the military bunker from the group currently occupying it. 
He talks through the plan, seemingly oblivious to your discomfort. 
“The bunker is perfect for setting up a permanent base! It’s got plenty of room and it’s well fortified, plus there’s tons of weapons and ammo.”
“But you said there are people already there?” you ask. 
He laughs. “Oh them? They won’t be a problem. We ran into a guy who left it because they’re running out of supplies. Most of the guys there have been hiding out in that bunker since all this started. They’re too scared to go out on supply runs so they’re starving.”
“That sounds really sad,” you say, imagining these poor guys wasting away while being too terrified to venture out for food. 
Gojo smiles. “Don’t feel too sorry for them,” he says. “The little towns all around them collapsed while these soldiers with guns hid from the zombies. They could have helped those people. Right, Suguru?”
Geto nods. “The man we met told us a pretty disturbing story. A young family showed up at the bunker begging to be let in. The soldiers refused, and the family was eaten alive right outside the door. That was his final straw before he left.”
Hearing this eases your discomfort a little. If they had weapons and combat training, it seems unthinkable that those soldiers would let a family die horrific deaths that way. But still…
“How will you even get in?” you ask. “If they wouldn’t open the door for a family needing help, why would they open it for us?”
Gojo grins. “Because they’re starving, remember? And we have plenty of food. We propose a trade. Food for weapons. They either agree to the trade and open up, or they try to steal our food. Either way that door opens.”
You look from Gojo to Geto. “And you guys think you can overpower them?”
It’s Geto’s turn to smile. “There’s only ten of them left, and they’re weak, dehydrated, exhausted, surviving on crumbs. They’re cowards hiding from what the world has become. Even if they have guns, we can take them.”
Gojo looks at you with a softening expression. “If you don’t want to be involved in this, we understand. We can drop you off somewhere safe, with plenty of supplies.”
You’re not sure how you feel about all this. There are good points and bad points to their plans, morally speaking. But you do enjoy their company and feel like this is a strong group that could do a lot of good. 
“One more question,” you say, looking back into Gojo’s lovely blue eyes. “If you guys were in control of the bunker when that family showed up, would you have let them in?”
“Of course!” Gojo says, with zero hesitation. “They had two little kids. I would’ve fought as many zombies as I had to if it meant saving them.”
He seems sincere, and you wonder if he has a soft spot for children. Regardless, he’s definitely a much better person than those occupying the bunker. 
“Okay, I’m in,” you tell him, and he smiles happily at you. 
Nearly an hour later, on an empty stretch of road, the men decide to stop for a moment to eat, stretch their legs, and check on the guys in the back. Geto pulls off to the side of the road and the three of you climb out. Gojo jogs around to the back of the trailer and opens it. 
As the others begin to file out, you notice Choso is missing. 
“We dropped him off at the next town over so he could look for his brother,” Gojo tells you. “You were sleeping on my shoulder so we didn’t wake you up to say goodbye.”
“Oh,” you say, feeling embarrassed at the thought. “Sorry.”
He casually drapes his arm around your shoulders.  “I told you before, didn’t I? You can borrow my shoulder anytime. Actually you can borrow my whole body anytime.”
You look up at him sharply, your face immediately flushing with heat. 
He laughs at your reaction. “Just putting the offer on the table,” he says, pulling away from you. “It’s up to you!”
The offer, as he called it, is certainly tempting. Gojo is one of the most attractive men you’ve ever met. You’d just need to keep your emotions in check and not get attached. Can you do that though?
You stand by the truck as you sip on a bottle of water and eat a small bag of potato chips from the grocery store. Someone made sandwiches and passed them out earlier. You’re shocked by how tasty it was. 
You find yourself watching the others, how they interact and treat each other. They’re clearly not all close, but they seem to have a certain level of respect between them. And Gojo seems to be the glue holding the group together. 
He moves around, chatting with everyone, obviously annoying a few of them but probably playing a big role in keeping them sane. He’s a bizarre ray of sunshine in a dark and dreary world, even if he occasionally turns quite dark himself. The sun has to set everyday after all. 
Finally, after twenty minutes, Gojo comes back to stand in front of you. He’s so tall that you have to crane your neck to look him in the face. 
“We don’t plan to stop anymore until we reach the bunker,” he says. “Is that alright with you?”
You nod, then look toward the men who were in the trailer. “Do they know the plan?”
“Yep. They’re on board. Just like you.”
“I see. I guess I made the right decision then,” you say. 
Gojo’s smile is bright. “Of course you did. Now let’s go steal a bunker!”
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Nanami:
“Get back in the truck!” Nanami yells, and both of you turn to climb back in, but several more zombies have come up behind you, blocking your path. 
The other guys have begun to notice the commotion, and are heading toward you to help, but the zombies are aggressively grabbing at the two of you. Nanami is holding your hand tightly, and when he makes a break for the convenience store, he pulls you closely with him. 
With his huge cleaver, he chops several zombies down, hacking through their heads to put them down permanently. You watch his back, slamming your crowbar into any corpses who get close. It dawns on you that the two of you make a pretty good team. 
Working your way through the growing herd of zombies, you can see the concern and determination in Nanami’s eyes. He’s laser focused on getting the two of you out of danger, getting you both to the small store, where you can at least lock the doors and wait for the others to help. 
A zombie grabs your free arm, the one holding the crowbar instead of Nanami’s hand. You try to pull free but its grip is surprisingly strong as it pulls your defenseless hand up to its rotting mouth. 
Nanami notices that you’re stuck, no longer being pulled along, so he turns to look back at you and see what’s wrong. He’s just in time to see the zombie sink its jagged, broken teeth into your flesh. 
You scream in horror, more from the realization of what this means than from the considerable pain of the bite. Blood oozes out around the zombie’s mouth and pours down your arm, soaking your sleeve. Nanami screams out in anger, swinging his cleaver and taking the top half of the zombie’s head off, killing it instantly. 
Your hand falls from its slack jaw, and you whimper as Nanami pulls you on toward the store, cursing under his breath. You’re not running as fast, all strength seeming to leave your body. Why bother now? What’s the point of him trying to get you to safety? You’re just going to turn anyway. 
He finally reaches the store, practically dragging you at this point. He runs inside, pulling you with him, and slams the door shut, locking it up tight. He leaves you leaning against the door while he does a quick search of the store. You hear him chop down a couple of zombies before he returns to you, panting. 
“The store’s clear. We should be safe until the others make it to us,” he says, looking out through the glass doors to check the number of zombies gathering around it before turning to you. 
You look at him with teary eyes. “Nanami, I was bitten! Please, kill me before I turn!”
He wears a pained expression as he gently but swiftly lifts your bloody hand to examine it. He shoves your sleeve up to look at your arm. While your hand is turning a nasty shade of purple, your arm is still its natural color. 
“I think there’s still time,” he says. “We have to cut it off.”
Your eyes widen. “What?! But that’s just a rumor! I’ve never seen it work!”
“I haven’t either,” he confesses, “but it’s worth trying.”
While you try to process all of this, he rummages through his bag, pulling out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some bandages. Leave it to Nanami to always be prepared for an emergency. 
He pulls off his tie and uses it to form a tourniquet around your upper arm, then pours alcohol over your forearm and his cleaver. 
“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I don’t want to hurt you, but this is your only shot at surviving. We have to act fast.”
You stare at him, wide eyed and terrified, but you know he’s right. This might not even work, but not trying at all means certain death. You nod at him, extending your arm and looking away, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Please do it fast!”
“I’ll take it off right below the elbow. We have to make sure we get all the infection.”
You nod again, frantically. 
His voice sounds strained as he says, “Alright. Hold still.”
As you wait for the pain, you find yourself thinking that you’re glad Nanami is the one with you for this. He’s intelligent enough to know what to do, strong enough to go through with it quickly, and kind enough to make you feel safe even when you’re about to get your arm chopped off. 
You can almost hear the cleaver moving through the air as he swings it hard, probably determined to take the arm off in one hack, lest you suffer through multiple hits. And he does it. You feel the force of the swing, and it takes a moment for the pain to fully hit you. When it does, it’s excruciating, making you scream out in agony. 
You know you shouldn’t look. You know this. But you just can’t help yourself. Your eyes are drawn like magnets to your arm, your brain desperate to assess the damage. What you find is a disgusting stump with blood spurting out just below your elbow. The sight alone nearly makes you pass out, and nausea assaults your stomach. 
Nanami is hurriedly wrapping it in bandages, holding your arm up above your heart to try and slow the bleeding. It hurts horribly to have it wrapped so tightly, but you know it’s necessary. You can only imagine how horrific it’s going to be to change these bandages. 
By the time he’s finished, you’re weak and exhausted from blood loss. Are you going into shock? You don’t have enough medical knowledge to know.  Zombies are banging on the glass doors, trying to get in, and in your broken state you almost don’t care if they do. But then you remember Nanami is in here with you, working so hard to keep you alive, and you feel guilty for even thinking that. 
At some point you black out in Nanami’s arms. You thought you heard him say the others had arrived, but you can’t be sure. You only know your pain is fading as darkness envelopes you.
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Tag List:
@tadabzzzbee @babysoo-meu @atomicweaselpaperapricot
Note: The scene where Sukuna leaves Reader but then comes back for her after hearing her cry out for him is based on a idea given to me by @kisssatoru!
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sen-ya · 9 months ago
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own terms
Summary: “We have to tell ‘em soon.”
Law huffed, hurrying across his room to find a sweater to take refuge in. “As I’ve told you,” he hissed, rummaging through a drawer, “I’ll be waiting as long as possible.” 
Warnings: gender dysphoria, unplanned pregnancy
Word count: 1494
hi hello this is kinda part 6.5/7 of that comic series I’ve been posting. I have lotsa thoughts abt a lot of other points in this timeline but this is the only other one I’ve done something with oops.
“We have to tell ‘em soon.”
Law huffed, hurrying across his room to find a sweater to take refuge in. “As I’ve told you,” he hissed, rummaging through a drawer, “I’ll be waiting as long as possible.” 
Luffy sighed, flopping to the foot of their bed with his head in his hands. “That’s what I’m saying,” he reasoned. “I think it’s been as long as possible.” 
Law rolled his eyes at his husband. “Well, you think wrong,” he insisted, freeing an oversized black hoodie from his dresser. He pulled it on and observed himself in the mirror. “I’m hardly showing, and I have plenty of clothes like this.” He nodded, satisfied with the way the fabric swallowed him. “Honestly I may be able to conceal the whole thing without even using my powers,” this part was muttered to himself.
”Why though?!” Luffy whined. “My crew knows!”
“And I wish they didn’t!” If looks could kill, Law would have been guilty of mariticide and, in this moment, he didn’t even think he’d regret it. “Do we have to go through this again? I don’t want my crew to know I’m pregnant. It’s bad enough that Bepo made me tell Penguin and Shachi.” 
“Why’s it bad that your brothers know we’re having a baby?” The irritation in the Pirate King’s voice was becoming increasingly familiar to Law, it’d been weeks of this conversation and he was, quite frankly, sick of it. 
“I can’t believe you keep making me have this conversation,” Law sat at his desk and crossed his arms tightly across his chest. “At this point it’s just insensitive.” 
“Did you forget we’re pirates, Torao?” 
This was a new talking point. Law quirked an eyebrow. “And that means you can be insensitive?”
”I mean, kinda? – But wait, that's not the point,” Luffy sighed heavily, speaking slowly like he was explaining something to a child. “Your crew should know the kind of coverage you need.” 
Law shot to his feet. “You’ve proven my point,” he said sternly. “I don’t need additional cover. I’m just as capable as I’ve always been.”
”Torao—“ 
“I’m not having this conversation again.” He waved his hand dismissively and swiftly sent himself to the deck of his ship. 
Left behind, Luffy let himself indulge in a long, frustrated groan. 
—-
“You don’t understand,” Usopp implored. “If I were in his shoes I’d be sensitive about it too, okay?” 
Luffy crossed his legs on top of the crate he was perched on in Usopp and Franky’s workshop. “But he’s always so…I dunno…practical,” he sighed. “And not telling your crew — y’know, the ones you fight with — that you’re fucking pregnant is totally not practical!” 
“I dunno, dude,” Franky offered from his work bench. “You sure that’s why you’re so hung up on this?”
Luffy’s face scrunched up at the question. “What else would it be about?”
Franky lifted his welding mask and shared a knowing look with Usopp. They nodded back and forth and whatever nonverbal conversation they were having led to Franky sighing. “Okay, okay. Think about it. When’s the last time you ever saw anyone land a hit on Traffy?” 
That was a tough question to answer. Truthfully, most pirates wouldn’t touch the pirate king or his consort. The new World Government still required levels and levels of approvals to engage with either of them, and even then it’s not like Koby would grant that approval unless a lot of things had suddenly changed.
”Doesn’t matter,” Luffy decided. 
“Exactly,” Franky continued. “Now tell me, why else would you want the Hearts to know?”
Another tough one. What other reason could there be?
”They were the last ones to know about you two being together,” Usopp added helpfully. Franky cleared his throat, clearly he’d wanted Luffy to get to that fact on his own. Usopp shrunk into himself sheepishly in apology. 
“Yeah, I still don’t get why Torao was so embarrassed,” Luffy muttered, paying no mind to his friends' silent exchange.
”And how’d it feel knowing he was embarrassed?” Franky encouraged.
”…I…” Luffy looked down at his hands in his lap. “…Didn’t like it.”
”Bingo!” Usopp cheered. “But it wasn’t that he was embarrassed of you, was he?”
Having finally caught up to the conversation, Luffy rolled his eyes. “No,” he whined. “He’s insecure.” 
“Exactly!”
”But he’s not like that anymore!” 
“And this isn’t the same situation as before,” Usopp insisted. “You’re asking a trans guy to walk into a room full of people and say ‘hey everyone, I have a uterus!’”
”But they’re his nakama! And everyone knows Ikakku’s trans and it’s not like anyone’s ever been stupid about it,” Luffy pouted. 
“No one’s gonna be stupid about it,” the sniper agreed. “But that doesn’t mean they can’t subconsciously change parts of how they interact with him, even if it’s only while he’s pregnant.” Usopp huffed a laugh. “Even if he weren’t a guy I’d think someone like Traffy’d want to keep it under wraps. When Kaya was pregnant tons of randos wanted to touch her belly all the time. It’s fuckin’ weird.” 
“…Torao does hate it when people touch him,” Luffy muttered. 
“And Ikakku talks about being trans, those are conversations she chose to have. I get to talk about it if I feel like it, like only when I'm comfortable enough to. I’ll bet Traffy hates not having a say in the matter,” Usopp sighed in empathy.
Luffy straightened up at that realization and a momentary silence fell over the trio. 
Franky cleared his throat. “Just keep an eye on him if anyone’s dumb enough to fight us,” he said in summation. “He’s his own captain. Let him handle his crew.” 
He hated to admit it, but Luffy knew he was right. He offered a grunt of acknowledgement and nothing else. 
Luffy returned to the captain’s quarters of the Polar Two greeted by the sounds of his husband emptying his stomach in the en-suite bathroom. It wasn’t an uncommon state to find him in these days, but it certainly didn’t make it any better. He made his way to the ajar door and poked his head in. Law sat on the floor, forehead resting on his arm that was slung across the toilet. Upon noticing his company, he shot his husband a glare.
”Lunch taking revenge?” Luffy offered light-heartedly. 
Law held his glare for a moment longer before allowing his face to soften slightly. “What else is new,” he grumbled, looking away. He decided his stomach was settling enough to relocate so he flushed the toilet and moved to get to his feet. Luffy was there in a flash, gently taking his arm.
”I don’t need any help,” Law sighed, pulling his arm back and reaching for his toothbrush. Luffy hovered, waiting for him to finish brushing his teeth before he spoke.
”I’m sorry,” he offered, hanging back in the doorframe of the bathroom while Law went to sit at his desk. 
“Are you now?” Law cracked open a book, pulled a few pages of loose leaf from a precarious pile on the desk, and started to scribble on them. 
“Yeah,” he replied, tentatively crossing the room to stand behind his husband. “Usopp and Franky reminded me that when you didn’t tell your crew we were together it wasn’t ‘cause you were embarrassed to be with me.”
Law placed his pen flat on his desk. “…That’s what this has been about?”
Luffy wrapped his arms around the other captain’s shoulders and nuzzled into his hair. “Maybe.”
They stayed like that in silence for a few long moments.
”I’m not embarrassed to be having your baby,” Law muttered after a while.
”I know.” 
“I’m embarrassed to be having a baby period.” 
“I know.”
“I’m certainly not embarrassed of her.”
“I know.”
”And I’m their captain,” Law continued. “I don’t want them thinking I’m less capable because…”
”They’d never think you’re not capable. They may be more protective though, and I get that you don’t want that.” 
Law nodded. “…Yes,” he agreed, leaning back into his husband’s embrace. 
“But if someone’s dumb enough to come after us, you can’t do anything stupid okay?”
That earned a hearty laugh. “Look who’s talking,” Law chuckled, looking up into Luffy’s eyes. 
“I mean it!” Luffy insisted. “You’re super strong. But…” He let his hand travel down to rest protectively on the front pocket of Law’s hoodie. 
“I know,” Law whispered. “If I’m being honest, I have been thinking about your point. It’d be…practical for them to know.” 
Luffy grinned at that. “And you do love practical.” 
Law nodded pensively. 
“Anyway, you tell ‘em when you’re ready. I’ll get off your ass about it.” In one swift motion Luffy hooked an arm under his husband’s legs and whisked him out of his chair bridal style. 
“Excuse me,” Law protested. “I have work to do!” 
“Yeah, I got stuff to do too!” the other captain laughed, turning on his heel to close the short distance to their bed.
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basic-x-witch · 27 days ago
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The Twin’s Gambit
Chapter One : The Open is Cold
The air in the Fade was thick and oppressive, a swirling haze of shadow and light that distorted all sense of time and place. For years-decades, perhaps - Rook had wandered its surreal expanse, her once-burning resolve eroded to a flicker. Shattered memories of a life left behind haunted her steps: fleeting images of friends and family, Nyxahlia and Emmrich, battles, and purpose that felt more like dreams than reality. Now, at the edge of a cracked obsidian plateau, she fell to her knees, the weight of despair pressing her into the unyielding ground. As she stared down at her shaking hands, a ragged sigh escapes her lips. She understood now, what it was like to live like Nyx did, and they would never be able to share the experience. Rook's hands trembled, reaching for a horizon that offered no answers, only more endless void. They had given everything.. strength, cunning, faith- they had done everything Varric had asked, overcome all their regrets, and yet the Fade refused to yield. She allowed the thought to settle for the first time: perhaps there was no escape. Perhaps, she would never see her family again, and as the thought hit the pit of her stomach she rested her head on her knees. This whole mess had been her fault, she had failed, and now she was here to atone.
Time passed.
She didn’t tire, didn’t hunger. The cruelest trick of the Fade. Her mind was tortured by the constant sounds of her loved ones blaming her for everything that happened, while her body refused to meet its end. She wrestled with the intermittent flashes - visions of what she begged were no more than her mind conjuring up falsehoods - the dead bodies of the people closest to her. Her sister Nyxahlia, cold, lifeless…alone. Lucanis, her dear friend, killed at Ghilan'nain's hand. Emmrich, the love of her life, a man she knew had a mortifying fear of death forced to face it and watch her die. Was she dead? It was hard to tell anymore, Solas could have been lying about that too. However, she knew one thing for certain, something that truly boiled her blood. Finding out the truth about Varric… Solas had tricked her, blinded her from seeing the truth of his death. Had she truly been the only one unaware of the death of a man she admired so much…
Time passed so slowly, if at all.
After a stretch of time that seemed never ending, while she had been pacing in the Fade, the barrage of voices had been finally silenced. It was just her and the faint hum of the void now. Her trembling fingers rake through her hair as she takes in the foreign sense of solitary. She looks out into the gloomy grey haze of the infinite horizon, when suddenly she heard one singular voice calling out to her, the sound was so familiar that it almost hurt to listen to. Against her better judgment, she followed the voice, until it led her to what appeared to be the ruins of the ritual sight where this had all started. The memory of that day came flooding back to her as she saw once again what appeared to be Varric’s lifeless body.
“You can’t be dead, Varric. You’ve helped us so much. Helped me so much…Told me what to do, when I didn’t know. We wouldn’t have gotten this far without you,” her voice was solemn as she spoke, her words laced with regret.
“But you did, Rook. You did all of this without me.” It hurt to hear his voice again, but Rook listened.
“Because…you died..”
“Yeah. Sorry about that, kid.” The two of them stand there together in silence for a moment while Nym collects her thoughts.
“No, I’m sorry Varric.”
“For what?” he replied, sounding almost baffled by her audacity to apologize.
“For not saving you…it’s my fault. I wasn’t good enough… I should hav-”
“Shit. Didn’t you learn anything from this place?” he said as he moved to stand in front of her cutting her off mid sentance. “I made the choice. To talk to him. To try to reach him. Even knowing the risks. Because he was my friend. My decision. My sacrifice. And you don’t get to take that from me. Besides kid, think for a second about how you got here in the first place. Sacrifice, in the name of someone you care about.”
“But–” she tries in vain to interject.
“Every story’s got an ending. This one just came a little earlier than I’d planned.”
“I’m going to miss you, Varric,” she said, struggling through haphazard tears.
“Going to miss you too, kid. But you’ve got your own story to finish.” Varric places a comforting hand on her back and gently pushes her towards the stone staircase leading to where Solas stood during the ritual. “I just know the ending’s going to be killer.”
“What happens now? To you?”
“I’ll disappear, go back to just being a memory.” The two of them begin the slow ascent up the stairs.
“Right…”
“Hey, don’t get all misty-eyed on me, okay? I had a good run. And I don’t regret a second of it.”
“What about Solas?”
“You and your sister talked to Mythal. You saw the memories. Solas wants to be a hero, That’s who he is, deep down. But it’s easier for him to play the villain. Because that means he didn’t fail. All the damage he’s done, the people he’s hurt–it becomes a choice.” Varric suddenly stops, watching as Rook continues to walk up the steps. “Remind him who he really is, or better yet get that sister of yours to do it. She’s always been better with words than you were kid. Hell, he just might listen.” He lets out a deep but soft laugh.
Rook smiles at the mention of her sister. “So how do I get out of here? Or a better question can I get out of here?”
“Of course you can, just listen to your team. Like you always do.”
“Here, Emmrich, she’s here, I know it. We should try the spell here.” A voice broke the stillness, soft but insistent, piercing through the void. It was familiar, achingly so. Nyx. Her sister. Could it truly be Nyx?
“They’re waiting for you,” Varric says with a gruff smile. “Just take it one step at a time.”
“Goodbye, Varric, and thank you. For everything..”
“Mi Vida, are you sure about this?” Another voice followed. Lucanis. “No one’s ever attempted this before.”
“I’ll be fine, Lucanis,” Nyx replied with unwavering determination. “Emmrich is here. We’ll do it together.”
Then came the voice that shattered her numbness entirely. The voice she had longed for through countless silent nights. “Rook!”
Emmrich.
Her head lifted, trembling as if under the weight of an eternity of despair, and for the first time in years, her heart dared to hope.
“Looking forward to seeing how it turns out. I’d say good luck, but…you don’t need it. You already have everything you need.” Varric’s voice was heavy as he slowly faded away from her vision.
A brilliant white light flared before her, searing through the dim haze of the Fade. Emmrich's voice rang out, steady and commanding, his chant resonating like a lifeline through the emptiness.
“Rook! You need to get ready to step through. Bishop can’t hold it for long.”
A hand pierced through the light - then another - gripping the edges of the radiance as if tearing open the fabric of reality itself. Slowly, the light stretched wider, widening into a portal just large enough for a person to pass through. A sharp cry of pain reached her ears. Nyx. She winced, her heart clenching. Was this real? A trick? Another cruel illusion of the Fade, preying on her final scraps of hope?
And then an arm emerged, strong and familiar. She knew that arm, its scars, and sinews etched into her memory. Her breath hitched. She reached for it, her trembling fingers desperate as if it were the last tether keeping her from slipping into oblivion. It wasn’t just any lifeline—it was the lifeline.
“HEAVE!” Taash’s strong voice could be heard booming through the void.
The pull was sudden and all-encompassing. Her body felt like it was being unraveled and pieced back together, each moment an eternity of disorientation. Then, her feet hit something solid. She stumbled, gasping as her knees sank into the soft, damp earth.
Grass.
Her fingers clenched around the blades, vibrant and green, so vivid it almost hurt to see. For the first time in what must have been years, she felt the world beneath her, alive and real.
Emmrich dropped to his knees before her, wrapping her in an embrace so fierce it stole her breath, grounding her in a reality she had long thought lost.
“Emmrich..” her voice barley audible. “Is this…are you..”
“Yes dearest, the nightmare is over. You are home, I’ve got you…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Tears welled in her eyes as she leaned back, desperate to truly see him after so long. His hands cradled her face, calloused and warm, steadying her as if afraid she might vanish again.
He looked so familiar—so achingly familiar. There were changes, the increased peppering of gray in his hair, the heavier lines carved into his features, a weariness in his hazel green eyes that hadn’t been there before. But it was still Emmrich. Maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t been gone as long as she feared. Maybe the world she’d left behind would still feel like home.
That fragile hope crumbled the moment her gaze shifted past his shoulder.
Standing just behind him was someone she recognized only because of her distinctive coloring: stark white hair and luminous silver eyes. Her sister.
Nyxalia “Bishop” Ingellvar wasn’t the person she remembered.
Her hair, once flowing down her back, was short and pinned back in tight braids that formed a crown around her head. Gone were her Mourn Watch robes, replaced by dark Antivan Crow armor, its deep purples, and blacks tailored to move with deadly precision. There was no staff in sight, only a spellblade sheathed at her belt, its edge glinting ominously.
Her face… gods, her face. Thin to the point of gauntness, her cheeks hollow and framed by bruised shadows beneath her eyes. A scar she didn’t recognize, long healed but impossible to miss, cut a cruel path from her ear to her chin, narrowly avoiding her throat.
Nyx looked as though a strong wind might knock her over. But the man behind her kept her steady. Lucanis. His hand rested possessively on her hip, just above the spellblade, his posture calm and confident. He anchored her, in a way that spoke volumes of the battles they’d fought together - and the time they’d survived without her.
Oh, gods.
Rook’s heart clenched. She hadn’t just missed time; she had missed years. Entire lives had been lived while she wandered lost in the Fade. Her return wasn’t a reunion—it was an intrusion into a world that had moved on without her.
Time had passed. And it had not been kind.
—---------
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boots-with-the-fur-club · 1 year ago
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Decided to post the final chapter a day early! No Fun in Fungus chapter 5! I’ve submitted myself to @tmntaucompetition and the submissions close tomorrow if you wanted to submit this au as well! Thank you to everyone for supporting and reading!
@daboyau
@theawesomeninja-xd
@nights-flying-fox
@phoebepheebsphibs
“What did we do!?” Leo shouts in confusion.
“I know there’s something you want to apologize for. Even if it’s not your fault.” Mikey insists.
Leo glances away then takes a breath and looks at Donnie.
“I’m sorry about S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.”
“It seems Mikey can apparently tell the future now because I have no idea why you’d apologize for that.” Donnie deadpans.
“I sent him to go protect gram-gram. He was destroyed because of me.”
“He was destroyed because the Krang loves hurting our family and possessed our extra great grandfather. I’m just glad you didn’t try to do something stupid like face him alone. It would have been your parts I’d have to find scattered around.”
“But….Donnie, you loved S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. How are you not upset? You hate when I break your inventions, and he was way more than just an invention.”
“Are you kidding? You’re really asking me that? I can’t rebuild you! You are not easily replaceable, Leo! I know what I say and how we joke around but I thought that’s just what we did! Do you think I mean everything!? That I want you to be like gram-gram!? Like all the Hamato before us!? No! When I told you to sacrifice yourself to buy us time I said it because you like jokes! I-I didn’t say it so you could go jump into a portal to save the world! Screw the world! Screw all of it if it means I lose anyone!” Donnie ends up tearing up at the end.
Leo feels a lot of guilt creep up inside him. He was very aware about how being in the prison dimension and getting so hurt affected everyone.
At least he thought he was.
“I don’t think that, I’ve never thought that! You guys know I don’t just do this kind of stuff whenever, right?” Leo frantically looks between the three of them.
None of them can meet his gaze.
The guilt turns into a bit of hurt.
“Jeeze, you sacrifice yourself for the sake of the world once and suddenly you’re the craving death guy.” He deflects.
“Leo!” Mikey shouts, eyes starting to glow again.
“You’re joking now? Right at this moment? Am I hallucinating again? You can not be serious!” Donnie joins in on yelling.
Leo looks away from them, eyes landing on Raph.
He’s the only one who doesn’t get angry which surprises Leo. The anger was there at first, he could see it, then it flickered to something else.
Realization.
“You told us and I never thought you were bein serious.”
Donnie raises an eyebrow.
“Told us what exactly?”
“That he jokes to cope. You’re not telling jokes because you don’t care, you’re telling jokes because you’re afraid.”
Leo bites the inside of his cheek.
“I thought I was pretty obvious about it until you guys kept coming after me during the first Shredder situation. If I don’t joke, then I just stop moving and that leaves all of us without portals!”
“Why didn’t you just tell us? It sounds like you were scared the entire time!” Mikey frowns.
“Of course I was! He turned Draxum into a freaking raisin and almost killed dad! How could I not be scared!? What good would telling you I’m scared be? So you could do what? Actually, let me tell you exactly what you’d do. You’d do what you’ve been doing since Mikey rescued me and ignore everything just to make sure I’m okay. We didn’t have the time for that back then.”
“How often do you not tell us how you’re feeling just because it’s inconvenient or a detriment to the mission?” Donnie narrows his eyes.
“Have you considered how much I do say what I’m feeling only for you guys to say I’m being paranoid or messing around? Oh Leo, we should trust the weird spider lady. Leo, stop spraying the bugs to protect this guy from getting mutated. Who cares if we might get hurt during the mutant panic?”
Leo regrets his words as he sees the look of hurt on Raph’s face.
He sighs heavily.
“It’s not on you, big bro. The bigger problem is we kind of all ignore each other? I’m still afraid of bringing up the pizza puffs incident because I’m worried you’ll blow a blood vessel. Donnie got pretty mad about the pizza pigeon too. And then….” He trails off, remembering just how badly he messed up.
“Maybe that’s because we weren’t paying attention to your feelings then either.” Mikey says softly.
“No, what I did was all my fault. You and Donnie could have died.”
“You chose the wrong thing to do, but you were….really messed up, Leo. You didn’t even have much time after your panic attack. We should have taken over for you, or at least try to make you see you weren’t okay.”
“Then….I’m sorry that for as much as I talk, I don’t say what I need to say as much. I’ll try to do better, try to help us all do better.”
Mikey smiles brings him over, nuzzling his cheek against his.
“I suppose it’s my turn now. I am sorry for….a lot of things. I….know how I can be. While I have come to terms with the fact that there are parts of me that I should accept and never change, I do realize what you all put up with sometimes. I don’t always take care in focusing on what you all do for me, small things that can be taken for granted. I want you all to know that no matter what I say or do, I would still personally tear out the still beating heart of anything that comes after us. Then, I would put it on display as a warning.” Donnie says that last part nonchalantly.
There’s a few seconds of silence before Donnie is pulled into the collective hug.
The others are crying.
“Donnie, we love you too!” Mikey sobs.
“That was beautiful, Dee.” Raph sniffles.
“I’ve never heard you say something so emotional, kinda liking the mushy side.” Leo smiles through tears.
Donnie can’t help but tear up too.
He really did love his family more than anything.
Mikey soon lowers everyone down, the chains disappearing as well.
“Can Raph ask how you did all that now!?” Raph grips him by the shoulders.
“I….I don’t even really know. I just thought our family was going to fall apart and it just happened.” Mikey answers.
Donnie glances around.
“Your chains managed to get rid of a lot of the spores. I think the mushrooms must be weak to light like yours.”
Mikey’s eyes light up.
“I can make those things go away?”
“That’s my working theory, but…..I worry about your arms. I’m surprised that they aren’t hurt again now.“
“There is a pretty big difference between chains and opening up a portal to another dimension.” Leo comments, subtly checking over Mikey’s arms.
Mikey hums as he tries to think of a solution.
“Donnie, could you make a weapon?”
He makes a gun and hands it to him.
“Donnie!” Leo and Raph shout.
“Oh calm down, it’s just a dart gun.”
Mikey imbues the weapon with some of his ninpo.
“I need a mushroom to test it out on.”
Raph picks up Leo and Donnie in one arm and Mikey in another.
“Let’s find you one then.”
He carries them all off and together they carefully search for the mushrooms.
Eventually several start making their way towards them and Mikey shoots.
The bodies shrivel up almost right away at the ninpo dart stabbing them.
“Alright Mikey!” Leo cheers.
“If it’s his light that does it….then maybe these will work!” Donnie creates three UV light flashlights.
He hands two to Raph and Leo and wriggles out of Raph’s hold.
“Let’s make these mushrooms which they never evolved.”
The brothers start exterminating every single mushroom they come into contact with.
It feels nice to be able to take out the things that have been torturing them all night.
It’s almost cathartic. They couldn’t truly destroy the source of their fears, but they could waste some crappy mushrooms that triggered their PTSD.
“Do you think that was the last of them?” Raph questions after a lot of walking yielded no more mushrooms.
“When this kind of thing happens in movies, isn’t there usually one big version that controls the others?” Leo answers with his own question.
“I hate where you drew that conclusion from, but I hate that you’re right even more. My goggles picked up a much larger amount of mystic energy in one of the tunnels.” Donnie adds.
“Then we know what we gotta do. Those things aren’t going to hurt anymore people. Everyone on board?” Raph looks around.
Everyone nods with the same look of determination Raph has.
They grab their real weapons for good measure before heading down the tunnel Donnie got the reading from.
He and Mikey walked behind Raph who had Leo using his arm for assistance walking again.
Mikey can’t help but still feel a little afraid of the darkness they leave behind as they walk with their lights.
Donnie gently, purposefully bumps his hand against Mikey’s.
Mikey smiles a bit and holds his hand.
He smiles more when he notices Donnie’s tail wag.
After a good amount of walking, they come across the end of the tunnel that goes to a large opening.
Inside was a colony of the smaller mushrooms surrounding a humongous one.
“Let’s slice him up like he’s going on a pizza.” Raph readies his weapons.
The mushrooms start coming at them all’s
Leo opens up portals to send him and the others to different locations.
Raph mows down the mushrooms with his projection and Donnie supplies some clones with more UV lights.
Mikey jumps and flips around like crazy using mainly his legs as he shoots at the mushrooms. It’s freeing, not focusing on what he can’t do for once.
Donnie made grander, larger weapons with every launch of his ammunition. He let himself go all out. Therapeutic in its own way.
Leo may or may not be taking too much advantage of being able to use his portals again. They were useful in this chaotic fight sure, but it also meant a lot to be able to move around better.
This is the first fight they’ve had since the Krang and each of them felt like they got something back from it.
They keep fighting until the big mushroom finally ends up the same way as all the smaller ones.
The ones that were still alive also followed suit.
Now that the fight was over, they dragged themselves back to their home. It was entirely too late in the night and everything they went through was exhausting in its own right.
Mikey looks up at Raph, eyes almost closing, and makes grabby hands.
Raph feels his heart swell. It’s just like when they were kids.
He lifts him up, cradling him like he did Leo at the beginning of this whole situation.
Leo smiles tiredly at seeing them.
“Remember when you tried to convince me you were older and I said that all big brothers give piggy back rides? I can’t believe you and your big brain fell for that.”
Donnie considers this and suddenly stops right in front of him. When Leo almost falls over on him, Donnie takes the opportunity to get him on his shell.
“I am older.”
Leo rests his chin on Donnie’s head.
“Fine, just this once.”
Raph and Donnie carry their brothers to Raph’s room.
When Donnie, Mikey, and Leo are in the bed, Raph grabs his fluffiest possible blanket out of his collection and pulls it over all them after he’s wrapped himself around.
Donnie had his arm spread over Mikey and Leo who were cuddled up together.
Mikey also held Raph’s tight in his arms like it was the world’s most comfortable teddy bear.
They all drifted off to sleep, knowing that even if there were more nightmares, they’d deal with them.
None of them would ever be alone.
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dilfs-bitch · 2 years ago
Text
Again | Jake Sully
Pairing : Jake Sully x Recom female reader x Neytiri te Tskaha
Warnings: Mention of Kiri, Spider, Tuk, Loak and Neteyam, Tsu'tey and Moa't, mention of the recom unit, age gap, (reader in her early twenties, Jake in his late thirties, Neytiri in the mid-thirties) angst, secondary character death, injury, pregnancy, mates, smut suggestive content.
Word accont: 3k
Summarry: After you die, Jake never thought he’d see you again, but after fifteen years, the RDA brings " you " back.
Chapter one
Some events in the movie were modified to suit the chapter and sorry if there are grammatical errors english is not my first language
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Jake's euphoric.
A soft smile adorns his lips as he wakes up with the soft chirping of Pandora’s diurnal creatures, he is hoping to feel the warmth radiating from your body, but instead he is brought back to reality.
His body is inert, is the tension that forms quickly on his shoulders, his heartbeat is agonizing when he realizes that him was left alone by you in the tree of voices after everything that happened, after everything you said to each other.
The remorse of his actions now weighs on his conscience, what was he thinking? Acting like an immature teenager having sex with another woman, blinded by an old feeling that should have remained deep in his heart because it makes him not even think he has a mate, a family, an important position within the omaticaya clan.
Jake is not even thinking about the consequences of his rash actions, it's the unhappy glare of Neytiri who took her hand to her mouth, silent tears welling up from her eyes upon she's realizing what happened when he returns the next morning to the clan alone, it's the confusing questions of his children about where he was and why their mother is suddenly so desperate as he just stands there letting her put out all her frustrations he himself has caused in recent months. And perhaps the greatest of its consequences is yet to come because it's only a matter of time until you take Quaritch to high camp and this time there is no more time to argue or to regret, him and the clan is more prepared than ever ready to die and kill
lf days, weeks pass and when it finally happens, it's not Quaritch and his recom unit that attacks directly, it's the consequences of the stubbornness of his youngest son who once again disobeys his order and goes to the battlefield, it's unbearable to try to fight against the feeling of fear that spreads in his body like a disease, what if when he gets to the battlefield it’s too late? Jake would not forgive himself if his mistake caused the death of one of his children, even though he's instinctively preparing for the worst when Lo'ak no longer responds through the throat comms and everything he can hear it's the gunfire, when he lands with his ikran along with Neytiri and Neteyam who insists on helping, but Jake cannot risk the safety of his another kid.
He won’t think twice about killing anyone who dares to put his family’s safety at risk, and that includes you.
It’s a kind of feeling that not even Jake doesn’t know how to control, it’s a mix of guilt, anger, betrayal, remorse, he didn’t care for fifteen years that what he experienced in side with Neytiri, the memories they created together, he didn't care about the bond that connect their souls forever, to at the end of it all be left alone to deal with his own choices and at the same time he almost feels compassion for himself.
The woman he always loved before him “alive” fifteen years later, saying she is in love with him too, and what should he do? Ignore all those feelings he couldn't forget for years, and that soul connection he always felt? At that moment, Jake was willing to pay the price, but now the consequences seem too high, would you be able to betray him, your feelings? Would you be able to put his children at risk for pure selfishness and revenge? No, it can’t be you’ve never been like this and no matter how hard him tries, Jake can’t accept that.
And he is unbearably relieved when upon seeing Lopez and Warren’s bodies dropped to the floor lifeless, Lo'ak and Kiri hiding against a fallen tree trunk and your body protectively protecting Tuk from the gunshots of Quaritch and Lyle’s weapons.
It is the sudden hormone of epinephrine that causes him to act in automatic mode, it's the shots, Neytiri’s straight arrow that hit Brown and Walker in the head, it's the loud and sudden sound of bullets fired from his gun against his sensitive ears hitting Praguer’s neck and Fike’s back, it's an unexpected emotion of surprise to see the hard and agile work between Neytiri and you to get the children out of the crossfire.
It's the fear triggered by Kiri's cry and seeing you put yourself in the crossfire once again to rescue Spider who seems unconscious, it's the despair that makes him instinctively hold his breath when he sees the bullet from Quaritch and Zdinarsk's gun cross your arm and pierce your thigh when your body tries to lower itself against a fallen log but Neytiri was there guiding you to a safer place.
It's when he's finally realizing that he would never be able to hurt you, even if he was blinded by hatred, even if said he would.
His body is inert is only his heart that beats at a much stronger frequency than usual when he's watching Moa’t treat the wounds of your body passed out in her hut while Neytiri is frustrated to hear what her mother has just said, although he is more concerned, ecstatic, happy to know the news of a new child and what Ewya destined to him.
All life is a blessing to Eywa, and Jake would never dare to say the opposite of his children that's growing up in your womb.
“ Ma sa'nok, Why? Why should we mate with another? A demon who brought so much disgrace to our people! “ Neytiri hissed at the Tsahìk.
Mo'at looked at her angrily, she didn’t teach her daughter any less? “ Must be done, Eywa has spoken “
Neytiri did not understand, she and Jake were happy together, before you, she did not need someone else to ruin what was no longer so good. She turned to her husband, who was sitting on the woven mat near your body, urging him to give an opinion on the matter, although she almost knew what he would say.
“ The great mother did it for a reason that I do not know why, but I’m not against her will. “ Neytiri’s ears sharpened, and she hisses at her husband. ' Won’t go against ? '
His mate continued to talk to her mother, and her it's almost forced to the understanding that one cannot go against the will of the great mother because what she gives, she takes away.
Ewya gave you back to him, gave a kid, a mate to him and Neytiri is not up to her to disregard the wishes of the great mother, so she accepts.
Now with the latest events, he decides to leave, it's a difficult decision, but Jake understands that he has to leave Omatycaia, leave his home, his people, give up his title of Olo'eyktan, take Neytiri and his children away from everything what do they know because he needs to keep your family safe, keep you and the baby safe from Quaritch, from the Recom, from the sky people because they won't stop until you're both dead.
A few days pass until the symbolic ceremony for Tsu'tey to “ kill ” him by scratching him with a knife to transfer leadership, the clan omatycaia would be fine with a leader like him, so they leave for Awa'atlu, a village of the Metkayina clan that Moa’t told him in search of uturo and the journey across the seas is exhausting, It is difficult to adapt that's suddenly forced not only for their children that requires knowing why suddenly you accompany them, and he omits some details while trying exhaustively along with his mate explain that now you are also part of the family because now you are their mate chosen by Ewya.
It was an eight-hour flight including two stops to the reef, Jake didn’t know what to expect from the Metkayina clan, if they were kind and willing to welcome him and his mates and their children, and he is more than grateful to the great mother who guided him during this journey and that the clan leaders allow him to stay, he is aware that it's a new and difficult restart, it would be challenging to be in a way in a new environment forgetting his forest teachings to replace by the water path, but they will overcome that.
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At first, Neytiri had not yet completely accepted the fate that was forced on, and neither did you.
The communication was just the basics, but it almost becomes frequent the way she's petting your belly every day, thanking Ewya for the baby that's growing healthy, and Jake almost feels tempted to interfere when you didn’t seem to try so hard, though he knew your way was more subtle, so subtle that it becomes almost imperceptible but there you are advising their children to spare her the trouble of doing it almost daily considering how many confusions Lo'ak gets into and this creates a kind of bond over the months in Metkayina, so strong that Tuk calls you Sa'nu not unlike Spider who is glued to your hip since omatycaia.
Life is going well, though Jake begins to feel left out when your relationship with Neytiri seems to progress, it becomes so frequent the smiles and conversations in the marui pods, his heart is so warm to watch for the first time his first mate teaching you to weave a tewng for the baby who has not yet born .
It's if everything was the way it has to be.
But he is brought back to harsh reality every time it’s just the two of you in the marui pods, and you seem tense with his presence, embarrassed, almost annoyed every time he tries to start a conversation and a shock of perception hits him.
Your opinion was never heard, you were just forced to leave everything behind and start a new life in another clan, accept this fate that was given to you by Ewya to have two mate without even a chance to argue, for Jake you’re on the edge of impatience, and it’s only a matter of time until you lose the ability to reason and your anger is directed directly at him and Jake doesn’t know how to avoid it because you don’t listen to him, you do not give him a chance to explain himself and for his luck it's Neytiri who approaches you about it.
“ I know it must be hard for you” She smiles, holding your hand against hers” But Ewya has a role for all of us and her will cannot be ignored “
Since a young age you understood that sometimes in life there are no choices and in Pandora would not be different, but the problem is the guilt that consumes you for your rash actions to get involved with a man who has a family, and now it has put you in this situation more than strange between the woman in front of you that you like so much and the man that you’re in love with, although you’re aware that it’s Jake that’s being left out by you in this adjustment that gets better every day.
Your jaw tightens, your ears flattened in shame. ” I know, but sometimes I can’t help but blame myself for interfering with what you two had before and that got us into this mate thing "
The next look of her reveals how uncomfortable she gets with what you just said, Neytiri can not deny how hurt she was to learn that her Jake was able to relate to another woman besides her, but from the moment you were surrounded by the atokirina seeds it was Ewya’s plans to prevent later her children and the rest of the clan from suffering the hatred of Quaritch and the sky people.
“ Don’t say that, from the beginning was the plans of Ewya Ma' Y/n “
Although Neytiri had tried to resist at first in accepting her fate, little by little she got used to your presence, it is lovely the way you treat her so kindly, always hearing her so interested in the history of her clan, and a new feeling that grows in her heart usually reserved only for her mate, but now she is so in love with you too.
She now perfectly understands Ewya’s plans because it's such an intense happiness that blooms within her with the latest happenings, she never thought she needed another mate, but now Neytiri swears she can no longer live without your presence, though for her happiness to be complete she needs you to understand that the great mother’s plan isn’t just she’s and Jake, and she’s and you, it's the three of you together as mates, she needs you to understand that there’s no reason to blame what happened.
Standing up, she reached out her four-finger hand, and you took it, mirroring her actions, she watches you, waiting for any sign of hesitation before stepping out of your shared marui pods.
Your feet ran hurriedly against the soft sand toward that part of the sea that and farthest from the village, were only the sounds of the calm waves, noises of oceanic creatures. Your heart that beat against your rib cage increasingly stronger each time you saw yourself closer to the place that Jake usually stays when he wants to be alone.
It was already dark, but it was possible to see his figure by the luminescence of his own skin that was sitting looking at the horizon, perhaps so distracted that he doesn't even notice that you two are approaching, and he only realizes that he is no longer alone when Neytiri kneels down sitting and the palm of her hand rests softly against his shoulder, he turns to face her who smiles nodding in the direction you are standing awkwardly and Jake hesitantly extends his large hand to you which you have take sitting kneeling in front of him and beside her.
“ Ewya destined us as mates…the three” Neytiri starts holding your hand and Jake’s” There’s no more reason to feel guilty, the will of the great mother is that we become just one “
Your ears flattened against your head, you nodded understanding what she was saying, the bond of tsaheylu was something you had already done before when you claimed your ikran, but it was not an erotic bond. It was just like a different mind control as it seems to interweave your kuru with your partner’s, you are confused about how it works, In the months that passed in omatycaia no one dared to explain how it works when choosing a mate and this time it is Jake who decides to explain seeing the look so confused in face.
“ It's a ritual of union, like a marriage but a powerful bond that binds two souls for life” Jake's hand goes up to the back of his head bringing his braid over his shoulder, lifting to you” As me and Neytiri did”
Your hand goes instinctively against the back of your neck, bringing your neural queue under your shoulder and lifting it so close to Jake's that the thin, pink strands spurt ready to connect and when Neytiri finally reaches her and all the three of them meet intertwine, pupils immediately dilate, their foreheads resting against each other, breathing unevenly as if they've run a mile.
But it's just the state of body consciousness now united accessing each other's emotional sensations, Jake and Neytiri had already experienced tsaheylu's sensation before when being mated but now it's so intense, so raw it's a whirlwind of feelings of the for life bond forming, it all feels so intense that's hard to focus on just one, but it's like you can feel exactly what each one of them feels, Jake's sadness, the need he feels not only for you but also for Neytiri, the happiness with the last events, the love he has felt for you and his mate all these years, the fear of Neytiri, the anger, the suffering, a mix of need and happiness since he arrived in Awa'atlu, the love she feels for Jake, the strong feeling she has for you that makes you smile, it's everything so new, so intense, so erotic.
And you’re not the only one who feels that way, because Jake’s hands immediately cupping your face as he leans his lips against yours, it's soft just to remind your body of what’s to come. His chest beating frantically as feels your hand resting against his muscular thighs and he gasps softly.
You kiss him with so much passion, hungry to deepen the kiss but is slow almost desperate with the time you two miss it that soon the kiss becomes sloppy, teeth pounding making noise with the impact and you two chuckle and Jake almost moans to feel your tongue slide against his. Your tail curling Neytiri’s leg when you break the kiss and Jake’s hand instantly goes against the beck of her neck pulling her close to kissing her so intensely that Neytiri tries to pull away, only for his five fingers hand on her neck to keep her in place, unable to have enough.
When it becomes difficult to breathe, he finally lowers the kisses to her jaw, neck sucking the exposed skin, and she whines with pleasure, leaning towards you who kisses her.
It's slow, full of need, and you moan at the feel of her tongue sliding over yours, and it catches Jake's attention, the sight before him of the two women he loves so much is enough to form a growing erection beneath his loincloth, and he's tempted to just fuck you both right there but now that tsaheylu has been formed he can't, although he thinks he can't control himself for too long.
 “ Tìyawn ” He says, smiling when your ears tremble, and you break the kiss immediately, gaze at him. ” We need to mate before Ewya, at a sacred site ”
When you nod, he just stands up, extending a hand to you and Neytiri, who takes it as he leads the way to the Cove of the Ancestors.
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skullsnbruises · 1 year ago
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Fake fic titles INCOMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Drown me ink
You can't change what's been carved in your soul
Pull my frown upside down
Cursed are the one's that twist the tale
Reflections
A bunch of amazing titles but I picked the one that gave me the most angsty feels LOL
[Ao3 Link]
Taglist: @poprockpanda @brick-a-doodle-do @local-squishmallow @dingbatnix @data-expunged-0 @da3dm
You Can’t Change What’s Been Carved in Your Soul
[752 words] [angst, self hatred]
Wilbur is a giant.
Overprotective and loud and overbearing.
He knew he hurt Tommy that way, being too much at all times. And yet he could never part from the little human, too close to him now to separate their bond. They were like brothers, it would kill Wilbur to leave like that.
But his claws were too sharp and he was afraid to hold Tommy. And his voice boomed and he was too afraid to talk to Tommy. And his steps echoed infinitely and he was too afraid to walk to Tommy.
It was all too much to bear.
He wanted to tear his soul out of this giant body, it’s dumb and fumbly steps, it’s piercing high voice, it’s sharp claws, and especially it’s urge to swallow Tommy whole.
It was only once Wilbur had brought up the instinct to Tommy, and the human curled up in disgust. The thought of being covered in saliva and in such a cacophony of sound inside someone’s organ was gross to him, where it was intimate love to Wilbur. It broke him.
He couldn’t take away that he was a giant, no matter how soft and human he acted. He’d always be the monster he was born as.
Wilbur hated himself. So much.
“Wil,” the human nagged at him.
“What child?”
“Oi!” Tommy huffed, “…You’re actin’ all weird. It’s not like you to be so quiet. What’s up?”
Wilbur had been found out, “Oh, nothing.”
“It’s not fucking nothing. You’re miserable, Wilbur.”
He bit his nails which had been torn down to the skin, “I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.”
“Wilbur!” Tommy shouted now, “Tell me. Now.”
He hesitated, “I… I feel awful,” he regret saying it immediately, seeing Tommy’s expression turn to a frown.
The human stepped forward to him, and placed a hand on Wilbur’s arm, rubbing comfortingly, “Tell me about it, Wil.”
It made his mind shut down, suddenly he was sobbing loudly, and probably hurting Tommy’s ears again, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“Woah- it’s okay big man! It’s okay, what’s wrong?”
“I hurt you, it’s all I do-“
“Hold the fuck on,” Tommy stopped him, “That’s what you’ve been fuckin’ doing. Fuck, Wilbur you’re not hurting me! You’ve never hurt me. If it’s about the damn volume it’s fine, man, I just poke fun at you cause we’re like that.”
“B-but,” Wilbur sniffed, “You cringed at the… when I-“ he couldn’t get out the words. He wanted to explain how deeply close he wanted Tommy to be, literally and metaphorically. He wanted to hold Tommy inside him, cuddling him in the most extreme way possible. That’s how much he loved his brother.
“Woah-“ Tommy was in Wilbur’s hands. Oh fuck. Wilbur couldn’t help himself. He looked delicious, and so upset all because of him.
His instincts cried, ringing louder than they had ever in Wilbur’s ears, piercing and bloody.
Surely this could explain without words, they cooed.
So, without letting himself think too hard, he shoveled Tommy into his mouth, tears streaming.
The human panicked, struggling against a tongue that was intrusively licking stripes along his body now. Teeth clicked firmly behind him, and his vision went dark.
Tommy briefly recalled a previous conversation and felt weak as he squeaked out, “Am I safe?”
A positive hum responded to him, vibrating against his body weirdly. Tommy laughed under his breath at the sensation and felt a wave of relief wash over him.
“Okay. I still say this is kinda gross. But whatever.”
The appendage squished Tommy between a wet hug, pressing rough into his body. He sighed and let into the embrace, wrapping his arms back around the tongue. A deep humming- no, purring, now filled the slobbery room.
Tommy let his body glide down, meeting the back of Wilbur’s throat. It looked like a tight squeeze, but Tommy thankfully wasn’t claustrophobic.
A few swallows and the embrace of the esophagus drug Tommy’s body down. He could feel Wilbur’s hand slowly tracing over the small bump that was the human.
Eventually the squish was over and Tommy slipped into an open area. The storage was roomy enough, at least for one person, and Tommy felt fairly comfortable. It was very warm, and the air might be a bit sticky, but Wilbur’s purring wouldn’t cease, so the human could cope.
If Wilbur was happy, so was Tommy.
And Wilbur never felt happier.
Maybe he couldn’t change himself, but he could learn to love the way he was.
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