#and they kind of just pulled that similar thing most of the time to the point that i just gave up trying to answer or participate

[dreamerdrop]

Oh God, yeah. During the war, Julian is basically going full into survival mode. He's pulling away from people, he's keeping his mouth shut, he's basically letting himself turn into a hollow shell that just looks like him because everything is so exhausting and he doesn't really... have it in him to be himself anymore.

I feel like I personally give kind of a pass to most of the characters on DS9 being jerks about Julian being obviously autistic for the sole reason that... one of the things I like about DS9 is that they're all pretty messed up in one way or another. Miles is allergic to voicing emotions and sentiments out loud (despite Keiko's best efforts, but she's also not great at it herself), Jadzia is shown constantly to have a REALLY inappropriate and poorly timed sense of humour, Kira is... Kira, and her issues mean that Julian's issues basically rub against each other like sandpaper.

Garak is interesting in how his dynamic intersects with Julian being autistic though. Garak seems to delight in Julian doing things like being blunt, infodumping, etc. Garak is someone who would drive ME a little nuts IRL because his specific brand of enigmatic behaviour would wreak hell on my lack of self esteem and inability to trust my judgement...

But for Julian, it seems to be a huge part of the draw. I think, in part, it's because Garak does seem to recognise when he's pushed too far and then, in his own weird way, often... relents a little.

Like in Cardassians, on the shuttlecraft. Julian basically says, very bluntly, "Garak stop talking in riddles this is serious and I don't want to play games anymore" and Garak immediately goes "alright fine here I'll talk as plainly as I am comfortable with".

Or, in an odd way, the scene on the Defiant during... season 6? Where Garak is basically insulting Julian over his augmented status. That scene is a little rough, even with the knowledge that this is effectively flirting for Garak, but. There's something in it that actually stands out to me as Garak trying to relent a little.

Specifically, his comment about Julian being a Vulcan. Julian is sensitive about his augmented status. Garak knows this. Garak insults him over it, and then towards the end of that little spat, saying "you're not genetically engineered, you're a vulcan", it kind of... reads as like, Garak trying to steer the conversation back to something playful, something that isn't actually attacking Julian.

(And there's obviously a lot to be said for how Julian is somewhat smiling to himself at the end of that scene.)

I think there's something similar to that in his dynamic with the others. I don't think any of them really have particularly good social skills, honestly. Jadzia comes closest but her levels of extroversion and enthusiasm mean she's often putting her foot in her mouth too. (... oh that's why she and Julian make good friends, they both have the party autism.)

Thing is, I think if Julian ever actually said to any of them "hey that actually kind of upsets me could we not" and they realized he meant it, they would apologize and mean it, but because everyone on that station is messed up and lacking in social skills, they all kind of constantly end up battering against each other with poorly timed jokes and insensitive remarks and dismissal of trauma and none of them ever figure out how to address any of it.

Narratively, though, Julian's trauma gets brushed over more than almost anyone else's, and that DOES piss me off about the writing. Even before we get to the augmentation aspect (which is taken seriously as traumatic for exactly ONE episode), a lot of the time Julian's issues just... get kind of tossed to one side.

Character wise, I think Julian is the type to focus on other people's issues so he doesn't have to acknowledge his own, but the way the show itself often ignores those issues does REALLY grate on me.

Julian Bashir walks a very fine, maddening line between “self-loathing imposter syndrome who knows almost everyone who speaks to him for more than a minute finds him insufferable” and “incredibly self assured and annoyingly arrogant to the point of a minor god complex”.

He knows he’s attractive, he thinks he’s charming as all hell, he knows he’s the smartest person in the room (while also being acutely aware he’s going to put his foot in his mouth any second now), and he just swings wildly between “I don’t deserve anything I have, none of this is mine, my life is not my own, I am a monster” and “HELL YEAH LOOK HOW COOL AND SMART I AM GUYS ARE YOU LOOKING ARE YOU LOOKING”.

And then there’s episodes that reveal that underneath that annoying arrogance, at the very core of who he is, he really, really just wants to help people, and if he fucks that up he WILL take it personally and hold himself responsible even if there’s no way he could have known and like. Can you imagine what his first patient death was like for him. Can you imagine what a fucking nightmare his brain must be 24/7.

He is somehow as inherently self assured as he is in need of constant validation for his ego because you can SEE him break a little when that ego fails him, even a little, and it’s just.

He’s very fun to write. I hate him. (I love him so much, but oh my god.)

[grison-in-space]

Stupidest of stupid questions: So humans are trichromatic, right? We basically have RGB eyes. How inefficient would it be to have CMYK eyes? Is it even possible?

You could absolutely do CMY eyes, but the K (being black) is a little more difficult because black isn't a wavelength of light so much as the absence of light. I suppose you could call the K your rods, which are best used in low light and convey things like "shadows" and "movement" particularly effectively. As a human, the most sensitive part of your retina, the part you're using when you directly look at things, is called the fovea. It is PACKED with cones, which are good for color and also tight spatial resolution; rods are found outside along the periphery of both the retinal and visual field. So we're just going to set the K aside now and think about those cones.

Honestly, tetrachromat eyes are technically pretty easy to achieve: all you need is four versions of cone-rhodopsin genes getting translated into different kinds of cone-rhodopsin cells in your retina. Old World primates evolved our trichromat eyes from dichromat mammalian ancestors exactly this way: with a gene duplication in one core cone-rhodopsin gene that allowed one of the copies to accumulate mutations until a sufficiently divergent copy fixed in the population.

So to have CMY eyes, you'd need three cone-rhodopsins with different wavelength sensitivities: one that is most sensitive to cerulean, one most sensitive to maroon, and one most sensitive to yellow. You might or might not have better color resolution than a regular old RGB human, though: color resolution is partly a function of the sensory information hitting your retinas, but it's also partly a function of how much brain space you dedicate to processing that information.

I mentioned my blind cat Arthur the other day--here's a photo:

Arthur is what we call cortically blind. As a kitten, he had an intact pupillary reflex and could probably see light vs dark, but he also had severe nystagmus, so his pupils jittered uncontrollably all the time and he probably didn't get a whole lot of useful visual input. Without the visual experience of seeing things and learning how to organize and process visual information, his brain as he developed went "you know what? fuck this" and stopped dedicating any processing power to whatever visual input he was getting.

Basically, he lost visual acuity because the information he was able to pipe to his brain was fragmented and poor-quality enough that his brain stopped bothering to process it. If I pulled his current eyeballs out and magically hooked up new totally functional ones, he wouldn't be able to do anything with them: his brain has given up sorting out the information.

So the question of whether theoretical CMY humans could distinguish colors better than RGB humans is driven by two things: one, whether having two highly-overlapping cones helps you distinguish between slightly variant light types better than very different cones, and two, whether we're extending the total visual range by moving the cones at the external ends of the range (B and R) farther apart. Overlapping but unique sensory information can be really helpful for localizing and distinguishing similar-but-not-identical inputs--that's one of the reasons owls are good at localizing quiet noises, actually, their ears are wildly asymmetrical and they can computer where a noise is made based on how loudly it can be heard with each ear, especially if the owl is on the move as it listens. Like the Doppler effect, but faster with a lot more processing power on it.

I have no idea which would be more effective, but it's a fun thing to think about!

[thealbatrovss]

wind song // logan(2017) x fem mutant reader

(mini series)

synopsis : you dream of a life without your powers. logan needs them to help locate some dead guys cash. a roadtrip to the Nevada desert with your ex was always bound to be a mistake. but, maybe it wasn’t.

Chapter 1 - blood money

chapter summary: after breaking up over a year ago, you reunite with logan at a diner in Texas. he needs a favor.

warnings: 18+ ONLY // MDNI - suggestive content, mature themes/subject matters, death, swearing, eventual violence and smut.

word count: 2k+

wind song masterlist // my other masterlist

The coffee was burnt. You pretended to like it that way.

The white mug was too hot to hold with your hands, so you opted for a straw instead. You found it in the corner of the booth. That earned some stares from the old couple eating lunch a few tables over and your waitress.

“That’s gonna melt the plastic right into your drink, you know?” Her Texan accent wasn’t as thick as the other waiters. There was red lipstick on her teeth. “Just wait for it to cool down.”

You picked the plastic tube from the liquid, inspecting it. It was still intact. “Looks fine to me.” And you popped it back in. There were sugar packets on the table. They reminded you of pixie sticks. You started to feel nauseous.

The lady shook her head, putting her notepad with your orders away. “Whatever gets you through the day.” And she left to go get your food. Or complain to her coworkers about the woman melting plastic instead of sugar into her coffee.

You wanted to drink it like normal. But you’d used a similar cup like this before to solve a case a few months back. It just didn’t feel right. Objects never did after they helped you locate the missing person. Another strange aspect of your powers. It’s like the people lived on through their things.

You could see his car pulling in through the driveway. He was right on time. Like always.

All kinds of emotions were running through you. You’d just arrived here out of state for a funeral. You were still wearing the black dress from attending this morning. Logan had called as you debated in your car whether to attend the after-services or not. Guess you got your answer. But it was still a surprising one.

You hadn’t seen or heard from him in over a year. Not since the incident.

The front doors opened, and the bell rang to let everyone know. You sat up a little straighter, nervous fingers folded in your lap.

Logan seemed to bring down the entire room as soon as he walked in. He wore a white tank top, with a white button-up over it. His black suit jacket was covered in specks of dirt and dust. His beard was a lot fuller now, his hair a bit shorter. Both growing gray. It glistened with the beads of something that smelled like moonshine.

For the first time in your life, you could see his age catching up to him. And the exhaustion. It was written on the bags underneath his eyes. In the way he held his aching knuckles to his chest, staring at where his claws hid.

He took a quick swig from his flask, ignoring the waiter's glare from behind the main counter. He was looking for you, drink still in hand.

You let him find you.

“Nice dress.” He started with. Your heart rate increased. You bit the inside of your lip. He still had that gravitational pull that made people want to either run and hide or get closer to him. He slid into the booth across from you. The sugar packets made shaking noises. He left his flask out on the table. “What’s the occasion?”

Your hands played with the black fabric ending at your knees. “Funeral.”

Logan nodded his head in understanding. He took out his glasses, looking at one of the menus.

“Oh, I’ve ordered already.”

“And I’m hungry as shit.”

“I ordered for you.” You emphasized.

Logan paused, staring at a picture of a salad. His eyes peeked out over the menu. “The usual?”

You nodded, swirling the straw around in the cooling cup of coffee. “Most places have what you like.”

He removed his glasses, rubbing at the irritated spot on his nose. “Next time, let me get my own tab.”

When she returned with the food, you ate in silence.

Logan stuffed a plate of sausages in his mouth before finishing attacking the eggs. He occasionally reached for his flask, like it was something he had ordered.

You didn’t feel like eating. The sugar was grinding in your ears. You’d have to take this sandwich to go. The coffee was going cold now.

“So,” you started. You were suddenly aware of how sticky the seat was beneath you. “Why did you call?”

“Why did you answer?” He kept eating. His fork made noises when it hit the plate.

You thought about the weeping mother and the small casket. “Well, it was either this or dwell on my last case. And I’d rather talk with an old friend than think about any of that.”

He stopped chewing, swallowing hard. “Well, then you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

Your brows knitted. You leaned back against the headboard. “I’m listening.”

Your ex took another shot of the hard alcohol. It was still the afternoon. But alcohol didn’t have the same effect on him as it did on other people. His abilities wouldn’t allow it. But it was still a problem.

He stuffed the flask back in his shirt pocket, only after it was empty. “I’ll make it short. A client of mine owes me a lot of fucking money.”

You crossed your arms. “How much?”

He put up five fingers. You remembered how they used to squeeze your hand in comfort. Sometimes they’d wipe away your tears. Other times they gripped your thighs and pulled you closer.

It was bittersweet. Those sweet and intimate memories. Even as the world continued to go to shit and mutants became less and less, you still had each other. Until something took that all away. You could recall the whistle ringing from your lips. Your cheeks were cold during the early days of fall. Logan was yelling about how you should’ve seen this coming. But he knew how your abilities worked. They didn’t work on the living.

“5,000?” You guessed.

“50,000.” He corrected.

Your jaw dropped. “Jesus. Were you his chauffeur or were you sleeping with him?”

He smiled. It was a weak one but it was still there. If you weren’t so used to it you would’ve missed it. “Look, he was a rich asshole who promised me a big tip. That's all.”

“That’s not a tip. That’s my salary.”

Logan set his utensils down after taking one last bite. “Then you need a fucking raise.”

“Or a new profession.” You joked. But it came out flat.

Being a private detective could’ve been a more fulfilling job. If it wasn’t for the fact that your mutant gene gave you the ability to track any person or creature. But only if they were dead.

You’ve worn this dress too many times to too many funerals.

Logan seemed like he was fighting with himself, whether to respond to that confession or not. He didn’t. Instead, he pulled out a fancy fountain pen from his jacket. “This is all I have of his.” He placed it on the table in front of you. “Will this be enough?”

You wanted to roll your eyes. “I haven’t even agreed to anything yet. What makes you think he’s dead in the first place?”

“Because, when he called saying he had the money, I heard gunshots. Then the phone went out. It’s been three weeks.”

“And no one’s reported him missing?” That was odd.

“Nope.” He looked from your eyes to your lips. “He never even told me where he was. I think he was out of state. And before you ask, yes, I already tried to trace the call. Nothing.”

The waitress came by, handing you a to-go box and whisked away his empty plates. Her eyes lingered noticeably longer on Logan as she walked back into the kitchen.

You continued your questioning. “Does he have any family? Maybe they know where he is.”

“No. He told me he was an only child. Parents died by the time he was 40. No other living relatives. People say a lot of shit when they’re drunk in the back of a car. Or just damn lonely.” His hand instinctively went to rest on the flask in his pocket. He motioned towards the pen. “If you need more than this, I can get it.”

You hesitated to pick it up. “You know how much I hate doing this.”

“I know.” He licked his lips, leaning towards you. “Yet, you’re still looking for people.”

It was true.

As much as you hated your powers, as much as they hurt; they could be used to help. Even if that meant only ever bringing people back to their families dead instead of alive.

A quote from your old Professor echoed in your mind. From a time long lost in the unforgiving hands of time and a powerful mind.

“Sometimes, doing the right thing can hurt you. But, it can give peace to the ones that you’re helping. What you give up, you give away. For good or for evil, now that’s up to you.”

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. An old friend was asking for your help. But would he do the same for you? There was a time when you would’ve never doubted it. You hated yourself for that.

The pen felt icy in your hands. Maybe Logan was right. Maybe he was dead. You could already feel something beating through the object. It didn’t feel alive. “When do we start?”

A glimmer of light radiated off of Logan’s rugged face. For a moment there, it was like he was his old self again. The light flickered out just as quickly as it came. “Tomorrow morning. 8 am. I’ll pick you up.” He placed a 20-dollar bill next to your half-empty coffee cup.

You stared at the dead man on the paper. “I’ve already paid.”

“This is for the tip.” He stood, a slight uneasiness in his steps. He seemed so tired.

Were his regenerative powers still getting worse?

He paused before heading out, messing with the cuff of his sleeves. “Don't worry. I’ll make sure you get paid for this.”

I don’t want your damn money. I want to be rid of this haunting.

You let him think you were deep in thought. You tapped your chin. “I’ll take 60%.”

Logan put a hand on his hip. He sighed. “Now don’t piss me off.”

You rolled your eyes. “Would never dream of doing that.” You packed your untouched sandwich away in the box.

Logan cursed under his breath. It sounded like he was muttering between fuck it and fines. When he left the small diner the room felt lighter again.

You watched him drop his keys in the parking lot and stomped them further into the Texas dirt.

“See, I told you!” You turned to your waitress who was pointing at your cup. The plastic was starting to crinkle and melt. You could see it poking out from the brim of the liquid. “Next time, just drink the damn thing normally.”

I would if I could.

Logan was already gone by the time you looked back out the window. The sugar packets shook as you stood to leave. The cup rattled. The pen pulsed in your hands. Like it was trying to mimic a heartbeat it no longer had. You could feel your powers radiating through the objects.

That night you played with the lamentation on the corner of a photo.

Your motel room was small but surprisingly homely. There was a TV playing at full volume in the room next door. It kept you awake. Sounded like an action movie. It seemed to go on forever.

The photo was of you and Logan. You still kept it in your wallet. It was hidden behind old coupons and a stick of gum. Sometimes you forget it was even there. Most of the time you self soothed by peeling off the lamentation from the corners. The sides looked like the melting straw in your cup of coffee.

It was 9 pm. You ate most of your sandwich. A corner piece sat in the to-go box on your bed. Someone finally shut the TV off. A dog was barking in the parking lot. Cigarette smoke hugged the air. You put the photo back into your wallet, this time behind your credit card.

“Logan’s phone.” You heard Caliban's voice sing through the line. “Sometimes mine if he lets me use it.”

It was nice to hear from him again. A tracker similar to you but only with mutants. He was always mesmerized by how your powers worked. He used to show you the sketches of the figures you blew into the wind when you whistled. You wondered if he still kept those drawings.

“Hey. It’s me.”

“I know. He’s still got your contact name in his phone.”

You smiled a little. “Is he there?”

“He’s working. Some bachelor party, I think. He’s probably pissed he left his phone here.”

You looked at the fountain pen sitting on the nightstand. “When he gets back, could you tell him we’re headed to Nevada.”

“Nevada? What the hell are you two going to do up there?” He paused for a brief moment as if he just remembered. “Oh yeah. The blood money.”

“Did he promise you a cut too?”

He let out a laugh. “Logan can hardly part with a 5-dollar bill these days. I’ll probably get paid shit for watching Charles while you two go off getting married in some shitty casino or something.”

“It’s just a business trip. Nothing more.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one, my friend.”

There was a storm happening outside. The wind howled like a river of ghosts against the motel walls. You thought you heard old teammates and friends whispering in it.

A cough came from the other line. “By the way, if you come across a Vegas snow globe, I’d very much like to add it to my collection.”

“Sure.” The howling outside continued. “Take care, Caliban.”

“You don’t want to ask how Charles is doing?”

You took a sharp inhale. You didn’t need to ask. You knew exactly how he was doing. And you didn’t want to talk about him right now. Maybe some other time. You kept putting it off. You’d deal with that guilt another time.

“I’ll get you that snow globe.” And you hung up.

You fell asleep, still wearing that black dress.

[arolesbianism]

Thinks abt oni pmd au oh so hard. When you get a second chance at a relationship only to re experience drifting apart from them all over again

[lucygraysboy]

“well, coriolanus never played with dolls, but tigris and i did,” billy softly corrects, moving her left foot away from the water and reaching for her right one to repeat the process. he can tell just by the way she talks to him that she’s having a hard time believing his story. “did he ever say anything ‘bout me? my brother, i mean.” most of billy’s friends from thirteen don’t know much about his background and he can’t help but wonder if coriolanus’ ever mentioned him. “how can i convince you that i’m not my brother?” maybe all they need is time, billy thinks to himself, forgetting that he’s supposed to be on his merry way in the morning. but he can’t leave her here. she’ll die. “sorry to rain on your parade again, but last time i was at the capitol or in any penthouse, i was five years old. i’m a little older now,” he counters, but there’s no actual bite to his voice. he’s persistent but far from hateful or angry. “and i’m not a snow anymore. i took my mother’s maiden name after she…” died. but the word sours on his tongue. “to honor her.” he couldn’t call himself william snow while surrounded by rebels, and so he introduced himself to everyone as billy bonney. “that doesn’t surprise me at all. our grandmother hates people from the districts with a passion, fears ‘em, too. maybe you reminded her of our ma on top of it all.” not that their mother was born in the districts, but she had a very similar hair color, was a petite woman with a love for colorful dresses, much like the one she’s wearing now. “i’m sorry you got to meet her,” he sighs, cleaning the blisters on her right foot with utmost tenderness. he’s seen worse things. it doesn’t really bother him. “i’m not my brother.” he feels like a broken record, but what else is he supposed to say? her story sounds crazy and he’s still trying to wrap his head around it, but the blisters on her feet and the state that she’s in are a testimony of their own.

“lucy gray. that’s a nice name.” very beautiful, but it’s left unsaid, hanging in the air between them. she is very beautiful, even with all this dirt and scratches and matted hair. her eyes are very unique, hypnotizing. “nice to meet you, lucy gray,” he offers, briefly wondering if he should shake her hand but making no move for it. “what i meant by…?” he trails off, unsure what she’s talking about. he keeps glancing upwards, smiling shyly in hopes it might soften her demeanor. he dries her right foot and rubs some iodine into her wounds before pulling the other warm sock on it. he lets go of her ankle, her words still ringing in his head as part of him refuses to accept them — a liar with a bad heart, that’s not his brother, that’s not the coriolanus he remembers. “will you let me see ‘em? while we’re at it? i’ll just take a quick look and put some iodine on ‘em. you should change out of this dress anyway. can’t sit here all drenched, you’ll get sick.” his heart lurches into his throat as he can’t help but wonder what kind of wounds her clothes are hiding. bullet wounds? just little scratches? animal bites?

“mhm.” got what from his mother? being entirely wrong and insane? “hard to believe you did that.” the songbird muses, bitterly thinking how he has no heart for himself let alone anyone else. “last i checked…tigris, you and grandma’am all shared a condo. the snow penthouse.” lucy gray reminds since he’s out of his mind and can’t even think for himself. “you never spoke highly about your grandmother even back then. and she didn’t take a likin’ to me much either, so that makes sense.” of all things, he does seem to remember this information about his hateful grandma. “except— you did. you did attack me first in the woods the last time. so i came prepared this time.” dumbass, she bites her tongue from blurting that last word like she almost does. “lucy. my full name is lucy gray, you know that.” annoyingly glaring off to the side, “i don’t know what you meant before.” because at times, she was using him too— in the beginning. a part of her did spark care and love in her heart for him, there was a glimmer of it but it didn’t engulf her because she knew something wasn’t honest about him. she knew something was OFF. those bad feelings extinguished any forming burning love in her chest for him the second she began to sense those red flags arise, even long before he started shooting at her or lied to her. it’s complicated on how to put it in words, because at times her heart did flutter when he was kind to her and kind to maude ivory. when they exchanged kisses and that day at the lake— but all of that died and to her, he very well could’ve just been faking it all which makes it easier to pretend those feelings never happened. “course i cared for you, but i began realizin’ you aren’t the noble person i thought you were and i don’t go for people like that. a liar with a bad heart is a quick way to turn me off.” so in other words, no, she doesn’t have feelings for him anymore. if his kind acts were genuine like the acts he’s doing now, then she certainly would’ve changed her mind. it’s a weird feeling, seeing him be nice to her, it serves to irritate her even more because she would’ve liked coriolanus to be this person but instead he was a monster. is a monster. “there’s one on my upper arm,” covered by her sleeve on her left arm, “and a few cuts on my legs. but those’ll be fine...” she claims even though they aren’t as she watches him slip the sock onto her foot.

[c0llisiion]

NEED TO KNOW — j.jk

★Pairing: jeon jungkook + f!reader

★genre: smut

★: older!jk, dads bestfriend!jk , oral (giving and receiving ) , unprotected sex , reader has a crush on jk, bachelor!jk, big dick jk, size kink kinda, hair pulling, gagging, slapping, pervert jk , dry humping , anal play , degradation, name calling, nicknames - lmk if i missed any!

★W/C: 4,395

A/N: remember that time I mentioned a jk fic that i was writing? This is that fic. Literally put this on hold for 2 months and finished writing it last night 😭 anyways enjoy!!

.02 <3

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

“But i dont wannnnaaaaa goooooo!..” you whined as you declined your dad’s offer to go to his big company party. “Sweetheart this is a huge deal for me …” your dad countered. “… more over, mr.jeon is going to be there ..!” Your ears perked up at the mention of Mr. Jeon. The tall, tatted bachelor with his piercings and built body, who has been your dad’s best friend since his college days.

Since you were a teenager, you have had the biggest crush on him. He was perfect in every way. He was older. More wiser. Handsome. Just your type. The initial infatuation was small, but as you grew into your adult years, it grew stronger.

You were starting to dream about him. Not even the usual kind. Wet dreams.

He grew older like fine wine. Body covered in beautiful art. Built like an actual Greek god.

Surprisingly, he was not yet married, even though he was well off in his late 40s. He used to say 'no woman has ever caught my attention' when someone mentioned him still being single at his age—from what you've heard.

Your dad and him, being business partners, frequently bring him to your home. Always hanging out at the bar or in your dad’s study. You capitalized on these small visits and began attempting to attract his attention. Whenever he came over, you started hanging out at the bar. Offering to make him special drinks. Talking about his interests , which you found out through intense stalking just to impress him. wearing revealing clothes, buying him his favorite food and snacks whenever you visit his office to pick up something for your father. You got very close to him. Your obsession with him became stronger because he seemed so nonchalant about your little tactics. The worst thing you have ever done was hire someone to break off one of his relationships. Only you were meant for him. No one else.

Hearing your father say that he would be there was another opportunity to impress him. You shot up. “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS BEFORE???” You say as you rummage into your closet for the perfect dress. Your father believed that your attraction to Jungkook was innocent and similar to that of a child. You had always said you hated the smell of alcohol, so he thought it was strange for you to start hanging out at the bar. Despite noticing many changes, he dismissed them as 'innocence', so he expected you to join him if he mentioned Jungkook. He left your room with a satisfied smile on his lips. You finally found the dress. A satin spaghetti strap dress in black, his favorite color, with a dangerously low open back. The dress was revealing when you put it on; the side of your boob was peeking out, but it hugged your curves perfectly. As the time got closer, you finished up spraying on your most expensive perfume, taking a final look at yourself before leaving.

The party was classy. A huge venue with what appeared to be millions of waiters with champagne. Upon entering the venue with your family, your eyes immediately searched for Jungkook. It wasn't long before you spotted him in the middle of a small group. He seemed to notice your family and hurried towards all of you without delay. As he got closer, your heart was beating fast. “Hey hey! My man!” He said taking your dad into a tight hug. “You could have come a bit more later!” He said sarcastically, taking a jab at your dad’s late-coming habit. “Don't blame me! This one took too long!” Your dad exclaimed, hugging you by your side. Jungkook’s eyes landed on you. He stared you down. Taking in each and every curve, his eyes eventually landed on your chest before he looked at your face and smiled. “So glad you came! You look gorgeous tonight.” He said, taking in your hand and kissing the back of your palm slowly, in a sensual way, while deeply staring into your eyes. He pulled away and rubbed the skin with his thumb before giving you a smirk. You felt your insides melt and your brain malfunction at his simple gesture. You were frozen in place and didn’t know what to do. You shyly backed away and looked down , trying to hide your wide smile with your bangs, which Jungkook took notes on.

Time flew by as you watched Jungkook speak in front of the huge crowd with charisma and confidence. One of his best traits. He always caught everyone’s attention with his choice of words and tone. It was embarrassing for you to admit that, but it turned you on. Your legs were crossed, rubbing your thighs together from time to time, and no one seemed to notice, except for Jungkook, of course. He eyed you every time you made a small movement.

All the speeches and boring talks concluded, which made you run out onto the balcony for some fresh air. You stared off into the distance, thinking about what Jungkook had done to you earlier. Was it platonic? Was he just being nice? Does he have feeli- “did all those old men bore you out?” Jungkook was behind you. His voice husky. His lip and eyebrow piercing, shining under the moonlight. You were caught off guard and turned around to see ‘your man', “mr.jeon! Ugh you scared me!” You said dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. He gets closer with a charming smile on his face and hands in his pockets. “My apologies. I didn't mean to scare you!” He let out a soft chuckle. “How is your night going?” He asked you. “Hm? Oh good i guess, it’s kinda boring, but i would do anything for my father..” He chuckled and gave you a side eye. “For your father? Really?” it seemed like he knew the real reason why you were here in the first place. “Wdym really? I love my dad!” You said in a playful, offended tone.  He chuckled once again. “Fine fine! I know how much you adore him.” You sighed softly and smiled.

“I like that dress on you. It suits you a lot.”  He said while eyeing you. You blushed at his compliment, looking down and fiddling with your acrylic nails. “Thank you..” you mumbled under your breath. You feel him getting closer to you. “Sorry? I didn’t hear you,  sweetheart.” His hands were on your hips, squeezing them softly. You froze in place. Heart beating faster. Your legs threatening to fall. His hands creeped towards your ass. Groping it softly, not wanting to seem too pushy. “Mr.jeon…-“ you let out a shaky whimper at his touch. “It’s jungkook for you, doll.” He said leaning in closer to your ears. He took a huge sniff of your neck and hair. “Thierry mugler alien eau de parfum? You have good taste.” He said while softly chuckling in your ears before pulling away. He lifted your chin so you can look at him. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed as you stared into his intoxicating eyes. “What did you want to say earlier?” You gulped before speaking up. “Thank you… jungkook.” He smiled at you before placing a kiss on your forehead. His hands went under your ears, caressing the soft skin gently. Your eyes widened, and you just stood there. “I’ll see you around okay?” He said smiling before he left. You were standing put, like a statue, your limbs refusing to move. 

A few days went by, and you were still processing whatever happened with jungkook that night. His kiss. The way his hands caressed your body. His little nicknames. It was just too much to process. You didn’t see or hear much from jungkook since that day. There were small interactions, but he seemed to ignore you each time. You were starting to get worried. What happened? What did you do wrong? Did you fuck up? Does he hate you?. You never stopped overthinking.

One morning, you heard the familiar voice of Jungkook from the kitchen, laughing and giggling with your father. You quickly put on your clothes and dolled up, still hoping to impress him, before you went downstairs. “Ah! She’s finally awake! We were just talking about you!” Your father exclaimed. You observed jungkook as he sat on the kitchen island and ate what appeared to be lucky charms. His favorite cereal. He glanced at you briefly before turning away. You felt your heart shatter. After all that he did? Is this the way he treats you? . You walked past him and got yourself a glass of orange juice. “Did you sleepwell princess?” Your father inquired. Jungkook was still not looking at you. His gaze was fixed on the newspaper in front of him. “Yeah yeah i did.” You said putting on a fake smile. “Oh!” Your father exclaimed as he heard his phone ring. “Excuse me.” He said before rushing out of the kitchen.

You glared at jungkook and gulped down your orange juice before dropping the glass onto the table. Jungkook noticed your action, which made him put his newspaper aside and walk towards you. “What’s wrong?” He inquired, leaning onto the island. “Hmph!” You huffed, turning around. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Come onnn! Tell me.” He said while hugging your waist from the back. You let out a heavy sigh before turning back around. “What did I do wrong? Why do you keep doing this to me?” You asked. “Doing what?” “Are you seriously going to act like you don’t know?” You said folding your arms. Jungkook had a confused look on his face. “You are ignoring me damn it!” “Ohhhhh! About that! I just didn’t have anything to say.” He said shrugging. You rolled your eyes at him. “Admit it, Jungkook, you just want to play with my feelings. You don’t care about me. You never did.” You let it all out. It was weird for you to act like this, but you couldn’t help yourself. Jungkooks eyes darkened, and he stared at you. You gulp.  “You think I don’t care about you? Me? Not caring about you? You think i come to your house almost every other day for your father?” He said while pushing you down onto the island. He turned you around and hugged you close to his body; you could feel his clothed hard dick on your pussy. You shudder when he slowly grinds his hips into your behind. “Ya feel that doll? Thats how you got me everyday..” he said whispering into your ears. His free hand found your right tit before he gave it a squeeze. Tugging the thin white fabric of your crop top down to expose your hardened nipple. You hear him darkly chuckle in your ear before giving the sensitive bud a squeeze. His hips never seemed to stop as he continued dry-humping you. You felt yourself involuntarily lowering yourself on the island, pushing your ass back into him for more stimulation. He immediately pulls away, leaving you weak and clenching around absolutely nothing. You whined, turning around to face him with pleading eyes. “What?” He scoffed at how desperate you were. He got closer and fixed your shirt. He didn’t say anything and just rubbed your shoulders down before walking away. 

A while later, you were napping in your bedroom. It was not uncommon for you to take naps in between the day since you were basically unemployed and didn’t have much to do, and you also needed one after what happened with jungkook.

All the blinds were shut, leaving the room completely dark. It was silent; the only sound that was heard was the faint noise of the air conditioner. You were in deep sleep and didn’t notice or hear Jungkook entering your room. You felt the bed sink next to you before you felt a cold hand on your hip. His hands, kneading the soft flesh of your ass before it grazed around your desperate cunt. You whine when you feel his fingers touch and draw circles on your sensitive part. “Shh..” he shushed you before pressing onto your pussy. He chuckles at how quickly you got wet. Your mouth was agape, soft grunts escaping every second. He slowly pushed you onto your stomach, climbing on top of you before pulling your pink panties to the side.

It was dark, and he couldn’t see much, but he could feel how soaked you were. He spread your cheeks and lowered his mouth down onto your cunt, sucking on it. Your eyes shot open, heavy breathing as you turned around to see the man of your dreams eat you out from behind. “Ju-jungkook..?” He shut you up by lapping his tongue over your dripping cunt. You let out a loud moan, your head falling sideways, already drooling even though he barely started. He lifted your ass up using his strong hands, making you arch your back. He dropped his head lower and started sucking on your clit, his big nose pressing into your soaking pussy. You grabbed a handful of his hair from behind and pushed him closer. He hummed into your pussy, making you gasp for air. Loud slurping and squelching sounds, along with his groans and your moans, echoed throughout the room. You were seeing stars. The way his mouth ate you out and the feeling of his cold lip ring on your pussy were beyond comprehensible. Your heart started beating faster as you felt your body warm up, and a knot formed in your abdomen. Jungkook took notes on your body language and pulled away. You cried out when you lost contact.

He leaned in and switched on one of your bed lights, finally giving the room some light. He observed your body. Your ass was still up, your pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal. It was clenching and unclenching around nothing. He let out a scoff before turning you around. Your face already looked fucked out. Tears painted your cheeks, and drool was all over your mouth. He hovered over you, placing a hand on the headboard. He used his other hand to wipe your face clean. “We have gotten ourselves a good hour; better make this quick, alright?” You nodded softly and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him into a soft and tender kiss. He kissed you back and hugged you closely to his body. His hands went under your tee, squeezing your tit. You whined into the kiss. “You are so sensitive, sweetheart…” he mumbled. You break off the kiss and cup his face. “Jungkook… want more..” He tilted his head to the side and stared at you. He put on a smirk before standing at the foot of the bed.

He took off his pullover, revealing his tatted arms and toned abs and pecs. The soft bed light that was illuminating the room was able to capture every detail of his body. You stare. Hand in between your legs, squeezed shut. You bit your lip softly before your eyes met his. He gestured for you to come closer, which made you crawl to him. Your face was now right in front of his hard dick. You could see the bulge growing. His hand went behind your head, grasping your hair gently. You looked up at him with your doe eyes, which instantly made him fold, but he kept his composure. He gave you a nod, pushing your head closer to his crotch. Your nose nudged the bulge before your greedy fingers hastily unzipped his pants. Your eyes widened when his cock sprung out and hit his stomach. He was big. Girthy. The tip was red, and you could see his precum peaking from the slit. Without wasting time, you took a stripe from the base of his dick until the tip before you sucked on it. He hissed at the feeling of your plump lips sucking on his sensitive tip. He was starting to get impatient and pushed your head down, filling your mouth even though he was only half way in. You looked at him with teary eyes as you choked around his girth. He almost lost it when you looked up at him with those eyes of yours. His other hand caressed your cheek, pushing himself further down your throat. You could feel him. Your jaws were hurting, and you grabbed onto his hips for stability. Your throat spasmed around his cock. He noticed how you were kinda struggling. “Better make me feel good, okay? I want that throat to show me what it got.” With that, he started thrusting into your mouth. You started choking and gagging around his length, which just turned him on even more.

He yanked your head off of his cock. A string of pre cum and saliva connected your lips and his cock head. You looked up at him and whined, wanting his dick to stuff your mouth again. He bent down to your level before licking your chin clean, swallowing the mixture before speaking to you. “On your knees and hands, baby girl." You obliged immediately, taking off your flimsy tee before throwing your ass in the air and arching your back for him. You felt the bed dip behind you, and jungkooks long dick landed on your ass, slowly grinding through the sheer panties.His wet cock making it translucent. You whimpered, already feeling yourself getting hotter. “You are such a dumbslut.” He lowly chuckled.

“You think it wasn’t obvious?” He removed your skirt and ripped your panties. You gasp at his sudden action. “All these skimpy skirts and tops.. and just when I'm around? Were you that desperate, princess ?” He said while pushing his cockhead into your sopping hole.

You let out a loud moan; his tip was enough to stretch you out. “Not gonna lie… i was very flattered” gripping your ass cheeks as he slowly pushed further, letting you adjust to his size. He continued. “I only kept my cool because you were my best friend's daughter, but—holy shit-“ he gets cut off as you clench around his length, tears already dripping down your face. Your mind fogging up. You were constantly letting out soft moans and whimpers as he slowly bottomed down into you. “Woah there-“ he chuckled. “im not even half way in sweetheart” he said while grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. You looked at him with teary eyes. Lips quivering. He smirked before kissing your cheek. He let go of your hair and pushed your head down into the pillow using his hand. The other hand was on your hip as he finally pushed all the way in. “Since you are begging for it— ” you let out a loud scream as he filled you to the brim.

Although it was painful, the pleasure made you forget about the pain. you felt warm spit fall on your pussy as he starts moving. “Gon’ fuck you silly, alright? Isn’t that what you wanted? Getting dicked down by your father's friend? What a whore…” You nodded incoherently. A loud cry left your lips as his hips thrust into you harshly. His pace was slow, but the way he thrust in was so... Your body was moving forward with every thrust. Sounds of wet skin slapping echoed through your room. You were not able to focus on anything. His pace increased, and so did the harshness of his thrust. You clenched around him, making him fall forward. He caged your tiny body under his larger one. “Fuck babygirl.. you are gonna rip my dick off..” he chuckled. “Jungk-kook… feels too good…” you managed to blabber out as he fucked into you like a madman. “Yeah? you like that? You liked getting fucked by older men, dont you sweatheart?” You whined as his large hands gripped your hair.

This was wrong. Very wrong. This man has seen you grow up. He has been there since you were a baby.

“Let me hear those pretty sounds…” he said while landing a tight slap on your ass, reddening the area almost immediately. You gasped and whimpered, letting out a loud pornographic moan as Jungkook hit a specific spot. His other hand found your swollen clit and started drawing rough circles on it. Pinching and tugging the abused nub. Your legs trembled, and your moans got louder. “F-fuck! Jungkook…don’t s-stop! Feels so good!” You babbled. Jungkooks eyes were focused on your pussy. The way you took in his length. Your milky white cream coated his entire length, collecting at the base of his cock.

He stopped thrusting in you for a moment. You whined as you felt him suddenly stop. Jungkook smirked before leaning over and whispering in your ears. “Fuck yourself on me, doll.” You cried in defeat. Jungkook placed his hands on his hips, waiting for you to start moving. You gulped before slowly rocking your body forward and backward. You could feel his every inch penetrating the insides of your gummy walls. His large tip hitting your cervix over and over again. “Thats all you can do? Wow.. so pathetic..” he scoffed. You shook your head furiously and started going faster. Jungkook let out a satisfied groan as he watched your ass ripple. “Play with that little clit of yours.” He commanded. You reached down in between your legs, finding the sensitive nub almost immediately. You slowly rubbed your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned out as the stimulation of your pussy and clit was getting overwhelming. You fucked yourself faster on his cock. Mouth in a soft ‘o’ shape and eyes crossed as his cock hit your gspot every time you moved in and out. Jungkook was in a different world. His eyebrows were furrowed, and sweat dripped down his neck. He was close to cumming just by seeing you fuck yourself on him.

His hands spread your ass cheeks, before a glob of spit landed on your asshole. You shuddered and panicked, stopping for a moment. “J-jungko-?” “Just focus on fucking yourself; everything is going to be alright…” he reassured you. You nodded before going back. His long fingers toyed with your rim. You grunt when you feel his fingers prod into your asshole. “Shh- shh.. youre safe .. jus’ wan’ try something new..” You gulped and shut your eyes tightly as his fingers ventured further into your asshole. He shoved three of his fingers into you, making you moan out loud. “Fuckkkkk- so tight…” he whispered. You melt and crumble when you feel his fingers move inside of you. You buried your head in your pillow, muffling out any unholy noise.

Your pussy and asshole clenched around his fingers and dick, making him groan. “So damn sensitive… has any guy fucked you, this good princess?” You shake your head. “N-no sir …” Jungkook shot up at the name. His fingers increasing in speed. You let out choked-out moans and cries as his fingers curled inside your asshole. “Say that again, will ya?” His other hand found your hips and started stretching your pussy out again. “Please.. f-fuck me harder… sir.” That was all it took to make Jungkook go feral. His cock left your pussy and was immediately shoved inside your sensitive ass. Your eyes shot out, and you couldn’t make any noise as you looked back at jungkook with tears rolling down your cheeks. He pinned your wrists behind your back before moving in and out. He struggled, initially. curse him for not stretching you out more, but his cream-coated cock provided enough lube for him to start pounding into you smoothly. “Shits so fucking tight- gah-“ your lips quivered and legs trembled as Jungkook fucked into you with great strength.

You screamed out, finally getting your voice back after he fully plunged his cock into you. Your cunt was leaking arousal, dripping down your thighs. Jungkook didnt seem to stop. His heavy, cum-filled balls were slapping against your pussy. “Jungkoook…- its too- too much!” You cried out. “Take it. You are a big girl. Take it like a big girl. I know you fucking can. Look at your little ass sucking me in. So good. So fucking good.” He pulled your body back and pounded into you. Your face was a mess. You cried and moaned like a bitch in heat every time he filled you to the brim. You felt your orgasm approaching as the feeling of the familiar knot in your stomach began growing. “Jung-jungkook- gon’ cum…” you whined. “Go on princess… be a good girl and cum all over me..” you nodded weakly, focusing on reaching your high. Jungkook flipped you over, laying you down on your back. His hands pushed your legs up against your chest. You were in ecstasy as the new position had you seeing stars. You observed Jungkook's sweaty body and fucked-out face.

A slap was landed on your glistening, sopping pussy before two fingers were shoved inside them. His thumb stimulating your clit. “Ngh- oh fuck- jungkook m’ so close…!” Your eyebrows were knit together, and sweat dripped down your face. The overstimulation getting too intense. Both his hips and hands increased their pace, determined to help you reach your high. You saw white as Jungkook pressed down on your sensitive bud. Clear liquid gushed out of your pussy and landed on his abdomen. You screamed as he continued fucking you through your orgasm. “Yeah.. just like that.. so dirty.. you are such a dirty little girl..” Jungkook's movements got sloppier. Your orgasm turned him on by a mile, and he was close to cumming himself. You twitched under him, still not over your intense orgasm, not noticing that he had slipped out of you and was furiously jerking himself off. His head was thrown back, and soft moans left his mouth. His breath hitched when a load of his milky white cum shot out all over your body. Coating your stomach and your boobs. You moan as you feel his hot cum land on your body, taking the mixture in your shaky fingers and licking it off while staring into his eyes. Jungkook smirked at you with half-lidded eyes.

“My dirty little girl."

A/N: HEHE THANK YEWWW 4 READINGGG! how was it tho? This would have been a stepcest fic but i changed my mind in the middle 🙁💔 im currently writing fics from my inbox! You can send in your rqs <3

[neo--queen--serenity]

This episode really highlighted how close Marcille, Laios, and Chilchuck actually are.

The viewer is used to seeing our main characters behave like coworkers up to this point—even friends—and they express normal, understandable levels of concern and fear when their other party members are in danger. But when the nightmare attacked Marcille, it brought out sides of Laios and Chilchuck that the viewer hadn’t seen before.

Laios immediately notices when something is wrong with Marcille, and he tells the others as soon as he’s sure of the problem. Chilchuck and Senshi then follow Laios’ lead as it becomes clear that he intends to make her get some rest.

We see Chilchuck’s hands lay out the bedroll and Senshi’s hands set up the pillow, working in almost perfect tandem as Laios physically wrangles Marcille into bed.

Senshi is in a similar perspective as the viewer, and mostly sits and watches the ordeal unfold. He doesn’t have a shared history, like these three do, so he helps in little ways, but mostly waits on standby for direction.

From here on out, it’s mostly Laios and Chilchuck who take over in planning how to help her.

It’s uncommon for Chilchuck to openly show such distress and worry for one of his party members. He’s used to Marcille being able to defend herself; he’s used to her being capable and strong. He immediately defers to Laios for instruction, (rightly) assuming he will know what to do.

This actually produces a reaction close to real fear from Chilchuck, who outright SMACKS her in a panic to wake her up before getting any further information.

Laios has to quickly stop him, explaining that he could truly hurt her if he interrupts the attack this way. He tells them how he’s going to wake her, and he doesn’t hesitate. He jumps straight in, explaining what he’s doing for the others so that they (Chilchuck) won’t be afraid.

Chilchuck doesn’t question him once. He just does what he can to hurry along the process. He tucks Laios in with his blanket as soon as he lays onto Marcille—an unnecessary action that betrays how much he cares for both of them.

And Laios succeeds in helping Marcille out of the nightmare’s grasp. While trapped in her mind, he reassures her, protects her, tells her how much she’s valued and appreciated. He isn’t embarrassed or sheepish about it, either; he openly declares these things like it’s the most normal and obvious thing in the world.

He gets her out, he saves her. He did the exact thing he set out to do, even though he’d never done it before, and only had Falin’s secondhand information to work with.

Once he wakes, Chilchuck immediately checks on him to see if he’s alright. Chilchuck is clearly still rattled, displeased with having to wait while both of his close friends were unconscious, fighting a battle neither he nor Senshi could see or help with.

Marcille wakes up shortly after Laios, but Chilchuck is still on edge, worrying that she’ll fall back asleep. Laios, too, has a moment of alarm when he makes sure she won’t close her eyes again.

Once he takes the subdued nightmares out of Marcille’s pillow, only then do Laios and Chilchuck relax.

Laios, for his part, remained calm and collected almost the entire time. He did not show panic or fear when it became clear that Marcille was being attacked, nor when he told the rest of the party what he’d be doing to help her. And once the nightmares had been collected from her bedroll, he gently explained what happened, to everyone else’s horror.

Seeing this, it’s not a huge surprise that the Touden party is so successful. We’ve seen Laios handle danger with a level head; we know he’s capable.

But it’s an entirely different kind of talent to face a threat that’s targeting one of your closest friends—which can make even the most competent fighter sloppy out of fear of losing them—one that requires a high-risk, specific rescue style that none of you have ever tried before. And then pull it off flawlessly. Like damn, these guys are lucky to have him.

[catssluvr]

𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒆, aaron hotchner

aaron hotchner x fem!reader (916 words)

in which you end up with an injured nose at girl’s night and aaron takes care of you

warnings: bloody nose (surprise), r is tipsy, sweet aaron again 🫶🏻

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

This is probably the last way you would have imagined your day to end up like. This being sitting in the passenger seat of Hotch's car with an ice pack against your very much painful bloody nose.

It's funny to think that working in the fbi wasn't what gave you an injurie but falling against Emily's coffee table sure was. It was definitely quite a fight between you, one of Sergio's toys on the floor and the corner of the table. You just didn't happen to win it, leaving your nose bruised and bloody.

You felt utterly embarrassed for having to call him to pick you up, but you couldn't drive after two cups of wine and didn't want to ruin girl's night. You're sure there's better things for him to do on his day off, specially at midnight.

Though he doesn't seem bothered by it the slightest, his hand resting on your thigh for the whole ride home and stealing worried glances at you once in a while.

"You okay?" He asks once he opens the door, helping you out of your seatbelt.

You're quiet and that worries him. He knows pretty well you're not one to be quite when alcohol is running in your system.

"Mhm. Sorry for this, again." It's probably your fourth apology tonight and he doesn't like that one bit.

"Stop saying sorry." His tone is almost stern but you can feel the affection sweeping through it. "I missed you today, was glad you called." He's too sweet even when you're sure you ripped him out of bed, his crooked quarter zip that's thrown over his sleeping shirt proving you right.

You smile softly at him, regretting it immediately as your nose stings.

Aaron hushes you inside the house, immediately leading you to the bathroom and sitting you on the counter.

He rummages through the cabinets for a moment, pulling out a few cottons and other things you're too dozy too look properly at.

"Oh, sweet girl..." It's only now that he takes the ice pack from your nose that he realizes how painful it must be. There's dried blood right outside your nostrils and the bridge of your nose look another shade.

"That bad, uh?" You mock, holding back a chuckle at his reprehending stare.

Aaron starts cleaning your nose with a wet cotton, mumbling out gentle sorries when you hiss in pain.

You take the time to look at him through half closed eyes. His dishevelled hair, his concentrated expression and most of all his quarter zip paired with stripped pyjama pants. It makes you feel both giddy and guilty that he probably came running to get you once you called.

"You're pretty." You say it before getting to actually think about it. But the fact that you're still tipsy helps you say things shamelessly.

"Thank you, honey. You're very pretty too." He answers with a smile bigger than he intended, just happy that you're finally acting like you normally would while tipsy.

Once the blood is cleaned and the arnica is applied, he reaches for the small band aid box. They all have some kind of cartoon in them, Jack's influence.

"Which one?" He questions with fake seriousness, displaying all the different band aids.

You point to the spider-man themed one, probably Jack's influence as well.

"Very good choice." Aaron pulls it open, carefully applying it over the small cut on the bridge of your nose before pressing a tiny kiss there.

He tells you to wait for a moment before dissapearing into the bedroom, coming back a few seconds later with a large hoodie and one pair of stripped pyjama pants - both his.

You let out a relaxed sigh once you're in them, his scent comforting and similar to what you would call home.

"Gimme a kiss?" You mumble nasally, a chuckle bubbling out of him at the way it sounds more like 'kith'.

"I'll hurt your nose."

"No, it'll heal magically from your kiss." You do little in trying to persuade him, but it's more than enough for him.

Aaron tucks a few strands of hair behind your ears, cupping your warm cheeks and leaning in to place a gentle peck on your lips.

"Better, sweet girl?" It's not really a question, as he knows the answer. His lips trail from your cheek to your temple, lingering there for a moment before pulling to hold your face once more.

"Mhm, much better." You lean into his hands almost involuntarily.

His hands reach under your thighs, picking you up before you can even process it. You let out a surprised gasp, smacking his chest lightly when he laughs.

"You know, my nose is hurt. Not my legs, Aaron." You mumble against his neck, smiling at the way he shivers at the contact.

"Just let me spoil you, yeah?" He shushes you, arms comfortable around you as he enters the bedroom.

Once you're tucked inside the blankets in his so familiar bed, Aaron pulls out his quarter zip. Throwing it on top of the armchair in the corner before rushing to lay beside you.

Almost immediately, your arms find place around his waist. Your fingers trace incoherent shapes on his stomach and your head lays against his chest, his heartbeat lulling you to a sleepy state almost immediately.

"Thank you." It's barely a whisper, but he hears it just fine.

He hums, squeezing his arms around you before pressing a kiss to your hair one last time. "My sweet girl."

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

love you,

cat 🤍

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

The Best Friend Showdown

Season four had many, many flaws. One of the big ones was the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict where Ladybug starts relying on Alya more and more, basically using her to replace Master Fu. We get a sense that Chat Noir feels inferior to Rena Rouge because of this change, but it’s never directly addressed. The most we get is this conversation from Hack-San:

Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings. Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right. 

Which is actually a really weird bit of dialogue because - as far as I can tell - nothing in the episode revealed that Scarabella knew Ladybug's identity. She hands out miraculous all the time and no one knows who she really is. Why would this time be different? Ladybug could just show up in costume, explain what's up, and then hand off the earrings while using yet another miraculous.

Anyway, the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict is “resolved” by Rena Rouge being outed again (and I guess that matters this time), leading her to give up her miraculous so that Gabriel can’t steal it away, which of course leads Gabriel to steal it away and fully disempower Ladybug’s larger team, leaving Chat Noir her only teammate.

How satisfying! This is such good, character-driven story telling!

It’s not. This is plot contrivances to the max with no meaningful character beats, but we’re not here to talk about that. We’re here to do one of my favorite things: gush about a relevant Kim Possible episode! Today’s topic is episode 12 of season one: Pain King vs. Cleopatra, the episode that introduces Kim’s female BFF, Monique!

This was a bit of a shocker for me because I didn’t realize that Kim and Monique weren’t pre-series friends. Turns out that, much like Alya, Monique is a new girl, which isn’t a bad call. This was a nice way to delay Monique’s introduction for a few episodes so that the writers could focus on establishing Kim’s relationship with other key members of the cast like her partner, Ron. Spacing out your intros is the way to go whenever you can pull it off as it’s a kindness to your audience that keeps them from feeling overwhelmed, making it more likely that they’ll remember your cast.

The other, more important similarity between Alya and Monique is that, when Kim’s hero partner and life-long friend finds out about Monique, he is less than thrilled:

Kim: I barely got to see them. Right after I hooked up with Monique, the museum was robbed by some glowing-headed animal guy. Ron: Oh, that's nice. Ron: Wait a minute, who's Monique? Kim New friend, really great. Anyway, the thief stole an enchanted ancient talisman. Ron: Whoa, whoa, back up! How can I not know about a new friend? Kim: I met her at Club Banana, then again at the museum before I chased the glowing robber. Ron: So what's she like? Kim: The robber? Ron: The friend, Kim, the "new friend".

Throughout the episode, Kim and Monique continue to bond without Ron, leaving Ron feeling left out:

Ron: Seein' a pattern here, Rufus: Kim does her thing, I do my thing, and pretty soon - we're doing different things.

Which leads him to get a little territorial:

Kim Ron! What are you doing here? Ron: Can I dine with my best friend and her new friend? Kim: Uuh, Ron, Monique, and vice versa. Ron: Bearclaw? Monique: No, thanks, I'm vegetarian. Ron: Uhm, I'm pretty sure it's imitation bear? Kim: She's joking, Ron. Ron: Good one, hahaha, ha, good one. So, did Kim tell you that I'm her sidekick? Cause that role is definitely taken by me. Monique: Riiiight. Well, in... you know I better get to class. Later, Kim. Um, n-nice meeting you, Ron. Ron: Likewise, I'm sure! Kim: What is your problem? You're acting really weird. Ron: Well, let's see. You went to the museum with Monique, not me. Monique was with you this morning, not me. Hmm, pattern? Kim: Yeah. You. Weird. Ron: No, we're drifting apart because you're excluding me. Kim: I am not excluding you. It's just that you and Monique are... different.

Noticing some similarities to Miraculous here?

So how does Kim Possible resolve this conflict?

Well, the plot of this episode resolves around Kim Possible’s version of professional wrestling, the GWA. There’s a competition going on that Kim has no interest in watching (mood), but when Kim mentions the GWA to Monique:

Monique: Why didn't you bring [Ron] along? Kim: Unless someone put a waiter in a headlock, this is definitely not Ron's scene. Besides, he had a date with "Steel Toe". Monique: He scored tickets to Mayhem in Middleton? The GWA rocks! Kim: What?

It turns out that Monique and Ron have a shared interest! Multiple shared interests, in fact! Interests that Kim does not share:

Monique: You know, I still can't believe you met Pain King and Steel Toe. Ron: I can't believe you're into wrestling. Kim: I can't believe I know either one of you.

By the end of the episode, the conflict is resolved not with Kim having to pick a BFF or with Monique somehow being demoted, but by showing that this didn’t need to be a conflict at all. Kim can have multiple close friends that she shares different interests with without any of those friends being lesser. Those friends can, in turn, have their own friendships that don’t always involve her.

It’s a genuinely lovely resolution that makes me love this little friend group because it now has added complexity. Monique and Ron are friends in their own right! Kim is not the center of the universe in spite of her main character status!

I also love that Kim isn’t vilified for having other friends or portrayed as constantly leaving Ron out of things that he'd want to do in favor of Monique. Ron genuinely would not enjoy most of the things that the girls love to do together. At the same time, Ron’s feeling aren’t treated as totally irrational either and Kim even admits to ditching him. It’s a genuine, complex conflict that is super common when someone enters a new relationship be it platonic or romantic.

Obviously Kim Possible’s version of this conflict feels far less complex than Miraculous’ because Kim Possible understood that Ron should be Kim’s one-and-only partner, so his position was really never threatened. Monique does not want to be an action hero and is never given the sort narrative weight that elevates her to Ron’s level or higher, but that doesn't matter. The basic lesson here is still relevant and super important for the intended audience of both of these shows.

There did not need to be a Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict that never got properly resolved. Miraculous could have made these two friends and no, Scarabella doesn't count because Chat Noir has no idea that Scarabella is Rena Rouge/Furtive. Their relationship ended at the end of Hack-San. He didn't even know that Rena Furtive was a thing until she was in the process of being benched and that's the problem.

Kim Possible is not a team show, Miraculous is, and yet Kim Possible has better team dynamics than Miraculous. Monique could have joined Kim's team at the end of Pain King vs. Cleopatra and it would have felt natural because both Kim and Ron had welcomed Monique and formed a genuine bond with her. This is a true friend group that Miraculous can only dream of even though they've been adding new superheroes since season two.

We're going into a season with a full, massive team and yet that team has no established dynamics on the hero side. It's not a functional team! None of these characters have meaningful relationships with each other as heroes save for Alya and Nino since they know each other’s secret identities. The only relationships Miraculous cares about are the various romances and everyone's relationship to Marinette and everyone suffers for it.

The show would not have been harmed by Rena Rouge, Chat Noir, and Ladybug being a team. It was the thing I kept think after watching the Kim Possible episode. Since the team is the end game, why aren't we seeing them? It would have been so nice to have Hack-San end with Ladybug introducing Chat Noir to Rena Furtive instead of a nonsense discussion about an issue the episode didn't even address.

[akpaley]

Made smooth and slick of seas and strands Tides that turn at your commands A heartbeat held by heavy hands

More Kaijja character writing. Roughly 1200 words on the beginning of her romantic relationship with the flesh god.

---

He does not mind solitude, but when you lack other obligations he does not mind your intrusion either. It is perhaps not usual, but it is natural to be fascinated with a god. You intrude often. You call it an extension of work, and the two of you do work through problems together. He was surprised, once upon a time, when he inflicted experience on you to demonstrate the severity of his edicts and you, not unshaken but still engaged, asked if he felt such detail in the experience of every person he faced. He had not been asked to use his power as a tool of empathy, not after imposing such suffering, not in centuries, but it is commonplace between you now. You wonder to what extent he can feel you enjoy it, even when it is excruciating. And the intellectual exercise is useful. Many times simulation of similar encounters has helped you watch for signs of tension, has made you more perceptive to the way your interlocutors conduct themselves and react to you. It is practical, and there is a quiet selfish pleasure in understanding the way he sees and feels the world.

Mirjat tells you it is unusual for Iokhar's Advocate to be his friend, or even to like the man, and you understand that but you do not relate. He is beautiful when he attempts to be terrifying, he is rational when he cannot intimidate, he is deeply intensely perceptive, and in his own stoic way he is oddly soft. Perhaps kind is a better word. He cares much more deeply than he shows. There is a selfish little thrill in that as well, knowing that you have brought out in him qualities most others never see. Knowing that you surprise him, a man who can feel everything but your thoughts just standing across from you. You accomplish a great deal in your tenure, but it is this that most often produces that quiet sense of pride.

He shows you change. In theory this is to make a point, but the point is unnecessary. You are not asking about something of immediate importance. It is after hours and you are asking about a story, about old scripture, from a primary source. This is not uncommon, and alongside speaking in words he chooses to sate a curiosity he knows you will have. When he has pulled you back together into the right shape you grin up at him. He studies you, near expressionless, and says "This is inappropriate." It is the strangest declaration of love you will ever receive, and you see it for what it is immediately. It should shock you, but somehow it does not. You agree. The evening ends with a veneer of stoic professionalism.

You will talk about it the next day. You will talk about it for the next week. You will see a degree of begrudging openness from him that you will not realize has been kept from you until you see it for the first time. You seek counsel, as is the responsible thing to do, but find that there is very little doubt as to the choice you will make. Mirjat appeals to your career, to the work that you've done, to the work that you might still do, and you find the arguments that have driven you all your life unconvincing.

You split your evenings between discussions with Iokhar and your own private consideration. You know the thrill of new intimacy will cloud your judgment, and he does too, but you both recognize that no matter what decision the two of you make your relationship will change. The idea of a purely professional relationship absent discussions of philosophy, history, art and other work feels galling, having experienced a relationship that is mutually irreplaceable. Later the idea of being irreplaceable to him will raise warmth in your chest and bring a smile to your face, but in that week while you assess it is simply a fact to be weighed. You are problem solving. Your feelings are data, but you do not have time to feel them fully. Only that they tell you what you want. You will resign with two weeks left in the season and half a term unfinished. It will take you most of the remaining two weeks working with your Clericy to choose Devadas as a successor, swear him in as Kalidas, and get him up to speed.

You already spend a great deal of time working during the on season, but for the better part of two weeks private time is practically nonexistent. This is a major adjustment, expected by no one, and by the time Iokhar leaves Kalidas must be prepared to represent him fully in the Council of Advocates. Anything you knew, anything you were working on, must be written down in such detail that it can be picked up where you left off. While you will join the Clericy of Iokhar, thus becoming available as a resource, it will take another month for the Clericy of the Petitioner Saints to determine this is the appropriate course of action and you must prepare for the contingency in which your full abdication from governance is determined necessary. It is not until the final night that you and your god finally have proper time together again. You sit quietly for much of it. He holds you and seems unpracticed, which to be fair you are as well. A decade is not a short time. A century and a half is longer. Yet, for all that, the mere ten months in front of you suddenly seems very long indeed.

"I would hear your voice when I am gone," he tells you, and it is less vulnerability than simple truth.

"I'd love to hear yours too," you say with irony, "but I suppose one of us will have to wait."

"I will not shirk my duties," he says, "But--"

"I would not ask you to." He pauses and then drops the apology. "Come back next season with stories for me." You smile as if this is a usual farewell, a friendship set aside to be picked up where it left off upon his return.

Very calmly, he takes your hand in his and matches his gaze to yours. For the first time you can feel the sensation of his own body mapped to yours, and you feel his quiet simmering hunger for you, individual fibers of his being humming beneath his skin for touch that a human lover could never even pretend. You feel it in the strands of your own muscles, suddenly yearning to rise up from beneath your skin and embrace the man in front of you. It is nearly overwhelming. Your breath catches and you do not dare break his gaze for fear it might stop. His voice is a low rumble in his chest. "I will." 

It is a greater promise than you asked for. It will stick with you during the long months of his absence, haunting your prayers and quiet moments and intruding on your activities unprompted.  

Upon his return, he will admit that this was the point.

[drasticdoodling]

see i am very attached to my tabris but surana mayy be becoming my primary warden bc her post origins/awakening dynamic with leliana is intriguing to me. bc she’s a anti-chantry blood mage while leliana becomes one of the hands of the divine

[afterglowkatie]

daylight | k.c.c.

kyra cooney-cross x williamson!reader | 1.5k | you and kyra have been seeing each other for a little while but she doesn't know you're leah's sister and leah doesn't know about kyra

ˏˋ°•*⁀ my new daylight universe. i've been trying to get this one going for like six months now and finally had a breakthrough and got most of this series planned out! hope y'all enjoy it

‘You know, you kind of look like someone I know,’ Kyra was standing by the counter watching you put together a little flower arrangement for an order you had later in the day. 

Since Kyra joined Arsenal and moved to England she had come across your shop and couldn’t stop herself from frequenting quite often. Spending way too much just to have an excuse to keep coming back and seeing you. From the moment she stepped foot inside your shop she was enchanted by you. A pull inside her that she couldn’t ignore.

‘Oh really?’ You looked up at Kyra briefly, a small smile on your lips every time you laid your eyes on the girl in front of you. Kyra in the beginning was quite awkward and you could tell she didn’t really want or need to be buying as many flowers as she was, you could tell her excuses were just that. But you found it quite endearing and played into the little game.

After a few weeks of Kyra’s almost daily visits, you were well aware of her attraction towards you. You weren’t oblivious but you wanted to see if she would get the courage to actually ask you out or how many more weeks of pointless buying of flowers were you going to watch Kyra do. It ended up being quite a few.

‘Yeah, oddly familiar,’ You just chuckled and shook your head, focusing back on the flower arrangement in front of you, while Kyra kept trying to think of who she knew that you looked similar to.

‘How are you finding Arsenal? Settling in well?’ You changed the topic, you didn’t mind having Kyra’s eyes on you, watching you. But having her staring at you intently was a little unsettling, not like her normal gaze towards you.

You smiled, listening to Kyra talk about her work. Your sister would always bore you when you asked about her teammates, to the point you had to tell her you didn’t really care about each person’s skill set but how they were doing. By this point you’d met the majority of the team at Arsenal, you were friends with quite a few just by being Leah’s sister.

‘You should come to a match,’ Kyra whined and you smiled even more, reaching over to rest your hand on top of hers. You were honestly surprised she hadn’t seen you had a match yet, you liked supporting your sister and watching her play. Though since meeting Kyra you had stayed a bit more hidden at matches than you normally would, Leah telling you that some of the others were complaining that you hadn’t been around much after matches or accusing Leah of hiding you away from them.

It wasn’t completely intentional. Things with Kyra were going slow but steady and had been going quite well. You wanted her to know you for you and not as Leah’s younger sister. Also not wanting to ruin anything by telling her, though a part of you knew that the longer you waited the more complicated it might be. For now you were ignoring that part and just focusing on the girl in front of you.

Also your sister had a tendency to scare away people you were involved with. You didn’t want that to happen with Kyra, especially since Leah and Kyra were teammates. Which added another layer to this complex web you’d created. What if Kyra knew you were Leah’s sister, would she still want to see you? 

‘Hmm, maybe I could be convinced,’ You smirked, leaning over the counter slightly, your hand still on top of Kyra’s giving a little squeeze.

‘I think seeing me in my kit on the pitch would be convincing enough,’ Kyra smirked, she knew how you reacted when she had come straight from training to your apartment for dinner one night, still in her full training kit. Dinner was completely thrown to the side. Kyra imagining what you’d be like after you actually came to one of her matches. Though she obviously didn’t know you were Leah’s sister and that you’d already seen her play.

Leaning closer into you, Kyra closed the gap and connected your lips together. The kiss was anything but work friendly, luckily it was your own shop and you had closed and locked the door while you had your little lunch date with Kyra. You deepened the kiss, your hand cupping Kyra’s cheek while your other hand laced your fingers with hers, ‘Want to take this out the back?’ You asked, mumbling against her lips. 

Safe to say, Kyra definitely ‘convinced’ you and that following Sunday you were dressed in your Arsenal beanie and scarf, your sister's jersey underneath your puffer jacket. You weren’t supposed to be coming to this match, so Leah was definitely surprised to see you in the stands, but for Kyra you were able to move around your other commitments. Honestly, you just couldn’t resist Kyra’s pout and would do anything she asked you. 

You were in the same area as your mum, who was aware you were seeing Kyra and also kept it a secret from Leah having seen how protective Leah could be over you, but you weren’t so close to her and kept interactions as little as possible in case Kyra noticed. 

Both Kyra and Leah had seen you during warm ups, thankfully at different times so you gave them both a little wave and smile. Kyra’s eyes lingered over to you quite often, she already told you how cute you looked when you sent her a photo earlier, but seeing you in person was a different story. 

You and Kyra weren’t official in terms that you hadn’t talked about the label of being each others girlfriend or anything, but you both weren’t seeing anyone else, spent a lot of your time in each others apartments, going on dates all the time and the other week when someone had referred to you as friends she corrected them and called you her partner. You didn’t really know what it meant, you both danced around actually talking about your feelings but you were hers and she was yours.

‘You’re going to have to tell them both eventually,’ Your mum leaned over slightly. You always cursed how well your mum could read you, she could see how you were internally panicking on how today is going to turn out. At the end of the day you did this to yourself, and if worst happens you’d rather Kyra finding out you hadn’t told her you are Leah’s sister rather than Leah finding out you are seeing Kyra.

‘I know,’ You groaned slightly, running your hands over your face, ‘But everything’s just been so good lately. I don’t want to ruin it all,’ Your mum was always warning you that the longer you took the more complicated it would all get and she wasn’t wrong. The pit in your stomach wishing there was a way that you could back and admit everything from the beginning because it definitely never got easier or a more right time to admit what you weren’t telling.

‘They’ll be upset you didn’t say anything but you aren’t going to ruin anything with either of them,’ Your mum gave your shoulder a little reassuring squeeze, ‘Plus you know I’ll want to officially meet Kyra soon enough,’ You smiled and rolled your eyes at your mum. 

Even though you never played, you were still just as passionate as Leah was when it came to football. Your supportive passion could never be matched by anyone else, it was how you and Leah were so close despite the slight age gap between you and your older siblings, ‘I didn’t expect to see you here,’ Leah was the first to approach you after you did hide yourself away a little but Kyra was just being her goofy self annoying her fellow Aussies out on the pitch after the match.

‘Well surprise,’ Not trying to come up with an excuse as to why you suddenly were able to be at the match knowing Leah would see right through you, ‘Can’t I just randomly turn up to support my sister?’ Rolling your eyes you crossed your arms feigning annoyance towards your sister.

‘My bad. Forgot I wasn’t allowed to question what you do anymore,’ Leah dramatically held up her hands, the corner of her mouth turning up into a slight smile. You laughed out, when you were a teenager Leah was way too protective over you so you told her to get lost and stop pestering you about what you did and who you did it with, now she always brought it up when she was messing around with you. You were quite the dramatic teenager, Leah was glad you grew out of that phase, ‘Come on, everyone misses seeing you after a match. We just won, come celebrate with us,’ 

Leah practically dragged you down and over the barrier onto the pitch. No matter how much you tried protesting your older sister, she wasn’t taking no for an answer. It was good getting to see the girls again, you had avoided a few of them since you started seeing Kyra, and even when invited to their little outings some of them would have, you made up excuses to not go.

‘Have you met Kyra yet? I think you’d get on quite well,’ Even though Alessia was also a new signing you had obviously already met her with her and Leah playing for England together.

‘No she’s been avoiding me after matches. I haven’t had the chance to introduce them,’ Before you knew it Leah was dragging you over to where Kyra was pestering Steph.

‘Kyra,’ She smiled when she saw you but it was quickly replaced with confusion with you next to Leah, ‘Meet my sister,’

[risuola]

III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE // In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.

contents: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words

a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.

It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.

Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.

Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.

“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.

“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.

“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.

You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.

But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.

“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.

“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”

“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.

“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”

“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”

Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.

“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”

“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.

“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.

Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.

Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.

The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.

“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.

“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”

“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.

Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.

White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese @captainchrisstan @bbylime @sad-darksoul @shartnart1 @kiki17483 @grimreaqueer @phoenix-eclipses @fan-of-encouragement @valleydoll @aleeeeeeees-stuff @marifujioka @going-to-californiaxx @just-pure-trash @edenofeve @impulsivethoughtsat2am @thigh-o-saur @heyohalie @matchat3a @bubblearts @littlemisspropaganda @aconstructofamind @lawislife18 @rzcnlb @sunukissed

[neckromantics]

Astarion loves to take baths with you.

It's one of his favorite ways to spend his downtime in general, honestly. Not only is the bath such a soothing place to be (you know once this man has the option, he's going to splurge on a vast collection of luxury soaps, oils, hair masks, and body scrubs- the list goes on.), but there's just something about it that makes him feel so normal? Mortal, almost.

If he lets himself soak just long enough, the heat from the water begins to nullify the vampiric chill that he's grown ever so used to. It's a pleasant warmth that works its way past pale skin- past tired muscles and aching sinew- and settles down deep into his very bones. For a few precious moments, he can convince himself that the eternal discomfort of undeath has made off for good this time.

And his hair always looks spectacular after wash day. It's a win-win scenario for him. So for his favorite person to be involved as well? Well, that just makes it all the more better.

-

This time, you're lounging on the floor nearby as he soaks- having stuck around after washing his hair for him as he oh-so-kindly requested of you. He's still a bit new at asking for small acts of kindness, so of course, you jumped at the chance to put your hands to good use. You were so careful not to catch your fingers on any snags as you worked a sweet-smelling soap through his wet curls, nails scrubbing away at his scalp even after it's all rinsed away just to hear him purr for you.

You're leaning against the bath, cheek cushioned against your forearm as it rests along the edge. The other swirls idly in the water- kept heated by clever use of prestidigitation (you'd recently picked up this cantrip for purposes such as this) and softened by the finest oils stolen gold could purchase. The curtains in your room are carefully drawn, and although your source of light comes from the multitude of candles scattered about, it's still enough to see the nice flush the heat brings to his skin. It's a little odd to see him so pinkened, and obviously, you can't help but stare no matter how hard you try not to.

It's the blood- your blood- that's pooling beneath the surface of his skin and giving him this radiance that many a man would covet.

Rose blooms a pretty bouquet on the smooth skin of his chest, up the length of his bared throat as he rests his head, and even reaches the tips of the pointy ears you so adore. Gods, even his knuckles are pinker when he reaches a hand out of the water to push his hair away from his forehead, and your gaze immediately follows the trail of soapy water as it glides down his wrist- drip-drops from his elbow and back into the bath.

Astarion looks so... peaceful like this.

Pale lashes rest upon warm cheeks as he reclines, face fallen soft, similar to how it does when he's deep in trance. A part of you wonders if this is how he might have looked back some two hundred years ago, before the affliction that was bestowed upon him by his old (now deceased, you celebrate mentally) master.

Eyes of ruby open just a crack, and you know that smug smile is coming before his lips so much as twitch.

"You know, my dear, most people consider staring to be rather rude." He purrs.

You're proud to say you don't miss a beat.

"Good thing you're nothing like most people then, hm?" Quick wit- a developing side effect from the many days spent traveling with the cheekiest rogue in all of Faerûn.

Quick as you may be– he is quicker. 

"Ah, right you are. Most people aren't nearly as beautiful as I am– one can hardly blame you for all of your slack-jawed gawping."

A half-huffed laugh is pulled out of you. Astarion loves to pretend he isn't just as delighted by your glossy-eyed admiring as he is amused.

And here you are again, suddenly distracted by the slightest bounce of silver curls when he tilts his head to watch your smile hit your eyes. His hair looks a bit longer when it's weighed down by bathwater and conditioning oils, almost to the point where some bits just barely brush his shoulders. You're so mesmerized that you have to touch him. The hand that's been playing in the water comes up to brush a few nearly translucent hairs away from where they've stuck to the curve of his neck, lingering afterward to carefully trace a finger down to his collarbone as you continue your oggle-fest.

Only just a moment longer, you tell yourself, and then you'll leave him be.

Yet, he doesn't let you pull away too far when you've finished. A deft hand comes up from the depths to capture yours the second you think about leaving him to his privacy, and you nearly jump at the unfamiliar temperature of its grasp.

He's warm.

Almost warmer than you, and it's honestly kind of jarring.

Astarion's still sporting that smile, although a bit kinder than before. If you weren't watching so closely, you'd miss how his eyes flash, uncharacteristically shy for just a moment before that heavy-lidded stare is set back in place. He brings your joined hands up to his mouth, petal-soft lips resting against the damp heel of your palm in a not-so-kiss.

They press for a long moment, and you can feel the appreciative hum he gives more than you can hear it. It occurs to you that he's probably just as dazed at your matching temperatures as you are.

"Get in here, darling." The command comes out as more of a question, really. You know in your heart that you have every right to refuse him if you really want to and that he wouldn't even consider holding it against you if you did.

But why in the hells would you ever do a thing as silly as that?

[rosenclaws]

Hi again! 👋

I'm throwing another request at ya since you did such an awesome job with the last fic idea I requested. (Thank you again for that)

This time with the OG Logan and all his kitty cat hair glory lol.

The reader has similar powers to scarlet witch. Like telekinetic powers, levitation, etc. Can it be a scenario where she loses connection (like how wanda feels connected to vision) with Logan and thinks that he's dead and she just snaps. The villians who claims they killed him mock her and she pulls the move like wanda did in Endgame where she's like you took everything from me, and the villians don't know who she is and she's like you will and just goes full beast mode on the villians involved.

Bonus, Logans alive, he just was knocked out real bad and sees the whole fight happen and was like wow I love her and they reunite and it ends all fluffy with a kiss, maybe a proposal? Lol 😘

Heartbeat || Logan Howlett x Reader

a/n: This was such a great request and I have to say I really loved writing this. I did. go a little angstier than I thought I would and its darker than I expected it to turn out but I really hope you like it. Your mutant name is firefly. Also. I still haven't seen the movies so I apologize if its not accurate to how the X-Men work or anything im sorry sdakfjl;

warnings: fake out death, violence, blood, killing, angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending, the reader goes on a rampage, he calls you honey, reader almost dies, creepy ass villian guy.

wc: 2.3k

"You alright there honey?" Logan's hand gently rests on your shoulder.

You're staring blankly out the jet window, watching the clouds pass by as you ready yourself for what is pretty much a suicide mission. A whole organization that had been hiding underground, dedicated to eradicating mutants.

They've studied you. Planned. They know things, your strengths, your weaknesses. A few people had infiltrated their base and what they found...It made you shiver. Photos and articles and deeply personal information.

They had photos of you and Logan.

It made you paranoid sometimes. Like they were always watching. So you had to put a stop to it as soon as possible. You didn't go on missions often. Your powers were, quite destructive. Powerful yes but not always needed but the X-Men needed everyone they could. You take a deep breath and try to smile convincingly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Logan snorts and cocks an eyebrow.

"You're lying right through those pretty teeth." There's an air of fear in the jet. You all know what might happen if you don't succeed.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. Promise."

"Yeah they're no match for the Wolverine and Firefly." Scott teases making Logan roll his eyes. Scott just loved messing with Logan, taking any jab he can to lighten the mood.

"Can it bub." He turns his attention back to you, happy to see a small smile on your face. Logan takes your hand and places it on his chest. Your hands glow as you reach deep and feel his heartbeat.

"See?" You take a deep breath as you listen.

Sometimes you got too much into your own head. Your powers were tricky and when you got overwhelmed Logan always knew how to calm you down. The world around you fades as you focus on the beat of his heart. The rise and fall of his chest. He was your rock. The jet jolts and Logan holds onto you as you stumble.

"Think I got time for a quick smoke before we head out?"

"No you do not." Storm walks up to the two of you, she shoos Logan away who reluctantly leaves.

"We're landing in 10 minutes, are you ready Firefly?" You take a deep breath and nod.

You stare at your hands as you little particles of orange start to sprout from your fingers. You had control of your powers most of the time but they were still a work in progress but you knew that this mission was important so you couldn't afford to lose control.

Once the jet lands Scott and Storm tell everyone the plan again. This was for the future of mutant kind and there was a lot at stake. Each of you had a small usb drive that would corrupt and destroy any files still left in their system. Infiltrate and destroy all of their plans.

"Do you feel like pancakes?" Logan asks as you step out of the jet.

"What?" He shrugs and stands a little taller.

"There's this diner, open all night. Thought that after you'd want to get something to eat." You know what he's doing. Trying to make you feel better, to believe that you'll make it out alive. You can't die if you have a plans.

"Sure Logan, pancakes sounds great."

"Then it's a date." Logan heads in the opposite direction of you.

He's part of the brute force while you slip into the shadows. Still it pains you to be away from him. A storm rumbles in the distance and you hurry off to your position, afraid of what was to come. Still you keep going.

This was going to end tonight.

"Shit!" You hiss as a bullet wizzes past you.

Things had went to shit pretty quickly and it's an all out brawl now. With a wave of your hands soldiers go flying to who knows where. You sneak behind one and infiltrate his mind. Using his fears to show you exactly where the main computer was being held. He falls to the ground and you step over him as you sneak inside.

It was getting bad, you could feel it. Feel the tiredness and pain your friends were feeling. The guards fall one by one as you make it to the center console room. Exhaustion was creeping up on you. Your powers exerting every bit of strength you had. Still you knew what had to be done.

You plugged in the usb drive and watched as the system crashes, deleting every single bit of information they could have on the X-Men. Then you slowly envelop the console with your powers, crushing it until there's nothing left. You press your finger to your ear, alerting the team you had wiped their main computer in the comms. There's nothing but static on the other end.

"Guys?" You feel your heart start to race as you run out of the building.

"Hello? Anyone? Storm, Jean, Logan?" Still nothing.

Suddenly you feel this horrible, horrible pit in your chest. You stop in your tracks. Blood running cold as terrible feeling washes over you. Logan. You can't explain it, but somethings wrong.

"Logan!" You plead into your comms for him to respond.

You burst through the doors and back onto the field. Your breath hitching as you see the destruction in front of you. For any normal villain's they would have been nothing in the way of you guys, but these people knew exactly who you were. Exactly how to stop each and every one of you.

It was a losing battle.

Your eyes dart around as you send blast after blast, trying to help but with every move of your hands you feel weaker. Suddenly you hear a loud yell, you turn around to see Logan driving his claws deep into the chest of someone. You feel relieved seeing him still standing.

"Logan!" You call out to him and he looks your way. There's blood splattered all over his face and he looks worried. He runs towards you as fast as he could go.

"Get down!" He roars.

BANG

It all happens so slowly.

You look to your side to see a man with a gun aimed right at you. The exhaustion plagues your brain as you react too late. You see Logan running at you. A desperate look in his face as he jumps at you. You hit the ground and so does Logan. He rolls away and lays still. To your horror there's a bullet right in his forehead.

"Logan!" You screech.

You scramble to his side. He's not getting up. Why is he not getting up? He heals. He should be fine. His healing factor should have kicked in so why isn't he getting up. You reach out to him but someone grabs your leg before you can. Your hands dig into the ground as you're yanked back. Dragged to the center of the field.

"Get the fuck off me!" You kick your feet and scream loudly.

Your hands glow but you're face is shoved to the ground, a foot on your neck slowly stopping the air from entering your lungs. You can feel your strength draining. You try and use your powers but you can't.

"He's dead sweetheart. Think we don't know about that neat little regeneration of his?" The man above you laughs and you start to feel sick.

"We're not fucking stupid." He takes his foot off your neck and you gasp for air. He reaches down and grabs you by the neck, forcing you to turn and look at Logan.

"Where's that healing of his now?" Logan remains unmoving, you try and reach out to him. Using any bit of your power to search for him but nothing. You can't feel anything. Tears start to fall as you let out an anguished cry.

"I thought you were supposed to be strong? We heard so much about you and now look at you." He lets go of your neck and you crawl to your knees. Clutching your chest as sobs wrack your body.

"Don't worry though," You hear a gun cock behind you.

"It'll be over soon. Go ahead and say hi to your little boyfriend for us."

You look up at him and feel nothing but an overwhelming amount of pure rage. How fucking dare they. They threatened your life, your friends, your world. They took your peace. They took Logan. The love of your life, he died saving you. Your hands glow bright orange, your chest heaving as you glare at the man standing in front of you.

"Oh look at that, looks like you can do something." He sneers. You chuckle darkly. Tilting your head to the side you smile. Your eyes start to glow as you become strangely calm.

"You took everything from me...So I'm going to take it all from you." You scream as a large wave of energy bursts from your body.

A wave knocking back everyone in your radius including your team. The line of friend and foe blur as you go on a rampage. Disposing of anyone who came after you with ease.

"Firefly!" Storm calls out to you, you were becoming uncontrollable. No one can even get near you. Jean tries to get into your head but you block her out.

No one can get to you now.

They took him from you and you were going to make him pay. You stalk to the ones that were foolish enough to stay. Though they were crawling away now, pleading for mercy. It almost makes you laugh. They were showing no mercy when they planned to eradicate you and your friends. Why would you show them any now?

"That's enough!" Scott fires a beam to stop you in your tracks.

"They're surrendering." He reaches out to you but you push him away.

"I don't care." You snarl. You raise your hand and lift the stragglers up in the air. You're about to slam them to the ground but someone grabs onto your wrist.

"Stop!" The grip is tight as they spin you around. The glow in your eyes fade as you take in who stands in front of you.

"Logan?" You whisper. You try and shake your hand free but he doesn't budge.

"Let them go, honey." He says gently.

"They tried to kill you." You feel the fire come back but Logan does everything he can to calm it.

"But they didn't. They can't hurt us anymore." Still you don't move. He loosens the grip on your hand, taking your other hand and placing it on his chest.

"I'm alive, just feel." Slowly you lower your hand, softly letting the men fall as the rest of the team deal with them as you collapse into Logan's arms.

"I thought you were dead!” You cried. You rest your head against his chest, hand still gripping his suit.

“You weren’t moving and I, I couldn’t feel you.” He cradles the back of your head and holds you tight.

“I’m so sorry I scared you honey, I’m alive. Just knocked out for a little bit.” Logan feels horrible.

Maybe if he had been a little quicker you both would be okay and you wouldn’t have had to deal with any of that. He grabs your face and kisses you with an intensity you've never felt. It's sloppy and desperate but full of life. He's alive. He's telling you that he's alive.

When you pull apart there's still tears streaming down your face. Still so overwhelmed from everything. He lets you cry into his chest as he soothes you. Wiping away the tears as they come.

"I love you so much." He whispers so only you can hear.

The rest of the team watch but don’t say a word. Letting the two of you sit there as long as you need. Soon your tears dry up but you don’t let go of Logan.

It’s a quiet walk to the jet. Everyone is absolutely drained. You lean on Logan's shoulder as he draws shapes on your thigh with his thumb. Your hand rests on his wrist, pressing into his pulse just to make sure he's still breathing.

"Pancakes." You say quietly. Logan looks over in slight confusion.

"Huh?"

"You promised me pancakes," You crack a tired smile.

Logan stares at you for a moment before laughing in disbelief. The weight of what happened finally catching up to him. How close he was to losing it all, how close you were to complete destruction. The toll it's taken on everyone in the jet. The last thing on anyone's mind mind should be doing anything other than sleeping for a week yet pancakes feel like the best fucking idea ever.

"Yeah we can get pancakes honey, as many as you want." He kisses your forehead and places his chin on your head.

"With chocolate chips?" You ask playfully.

"I'll make 'em put in extra. Just for you." You hum happily as you lean in closer to him.

It's still a long flight back and one by one everyone starts to fall asleep. Soon it's just the rumbling of the plane. You look up to see Logan has fallen asleep, you watch his chest rise and fall. Just for a little bit.

He grumbles in his sleep, twitching slightly. There's a scowl on his face as he starts to shift more. Quietly you tap your fingers against his head, taking away his nightmares. He stops moving, relaxing under your touch. You smile softly as you slide your hand down to his chest.

Closing your eyes you feel his heart again. In the back of your mind swirls the horrible memories of today but you choose to ignore them for now. You close your eyes and allow yourself to rest. The steady beat of his heart acting as the perfect lullaby.

Just a steady reminder that everythings okay, there's nothing to fear anymore.

Thump

Thump

Thump

[bookworm-with-coffee]

The Greatest Heist of All. . .

(How they react to your pet - Slytherin Boys x Reader)

Plot; Niffler inspired crackfics

Pairings; Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Romantic), Ominis Gaunt x Reader (Romantic)

Warnings; jealousy, coarse language, floofity fluff

________________________________________

Sebastian Sallow

When Sebastian first laid eyes on that Niffler, he knew trouble would start. In rescuing creatures, you had come to love many of them, but none more than those greedy little—

The brunette fumed at the thought of them. Those cute little beady eyes had won you over that day you'd both gone walking in the woods for a picnic date. That's when you'd stumbled upon a den of Nifflers.

Of course, most ran away. But, one remained. One annoying little—

Unafraid and curious, the little creature had sniffled and shuffled closer to you both.

"Mind your pockets", Sebastian commented, your hand waving to dismiss his words without a care.

"Look at you!!", you'd cooed at the little one, your boyfriend hardly sharing your enthusiasm on the creature.

You admired the blue fur on his back, reaching keenly to pet the cheeky little thing before it practically clambered onto your lap and into your arms. Sebastian's eyes rolled as your arms engulfed the Niffler, stroking your hands along his smooth hairs.

Attention went from your date to your uninvited guest, and after some time, Sebastian grew impatient and perhaps, a bit jealous as well?

"Alright, great. You've pet it. Now, can we go?", he huffed, raising a brow.

You pouted up at your boyfriend, the Niffler eagerly accepting your affections, "I don't want to just leave him here".

"He's a wild animal", the brunette reasoned. "He has a family. He'll be fine". But, the Niffler also seemed to share your resolve, not wishing to leave your kind embrace.

"I think— I want to keep him".

Oh God. Oh no—

"Nifflers are little thieves!", Sebastian insisted. "Who wants a pet that could rob you blind??".

Kneeling by your side, your freckled partner laid a gentle hand on your back before sliding it down to hold your spare hand in his attempt to coax you away.

The Niffler saw Sebastian's possessive behaviour and recognised it as a similar behaviour to those of his own kind. Could it be that you were valuable? Not gold, but a treasure as yourself?? This would be his biggest win yet, if that were so.

Sebastian's brown hues drifted to the Niffler, whose attitude had become a bit more insistent. The creature's eyes met his own and without breaking contact, deliberately snuggled into your chest, even daring to lay a possessive paw by your shoulder as if to say, mine.

Oh, it was on.

In the weeks that followed, things grew worse.

Every time there was even a mention of Sebastian, your Niffler saw fit to jump into your lap or arms to draw your attention.

Sebastian was at breaking point. Each time he spoke with you, there was that miscreant stirring him up. He'd even taken to insisting that the thing was evil, to your amusement.

Once or twice, the brunette even went as far as to mouth, "I'm watching you!", from over your shoulder, making the signal with his hands when you weren't looking.

It was unbelievable. A Niffler participating in some form of torturous psychological warfare. And Sebastian wouldn't let him win. You were his.

Then, your owl came and the existential dread continued.

Sebastian,

Would you be so kind as to babysit my Niffler? You'd be doing me a HUGE favour, as I'm away for most of the day on Saturday and he'll be left with no supervision and company.

Love always,

(Y/n) ♡

Bloody thing can starve, was his first thought, finally inwardly relenting when he thought of the consequences. You'd hate him forever if he did that.

So, it was off to your home he'd have to go.

"You boys behave while I'm gone", you'd teasingly instructed with a pointed finger and Sebastian played it off with a forced smile.

"Don't rush", he shrugged, making sure to pull you into the most passionate kiss he could offer, hoping the Niffler would weep on the inside.

"Sebastian", you giggled against his lips, almost tempted to stay for a more intimate moment were it not for your plans. "I am coming back".

His forehead leant on your own, the Niffler forgotten whilst his hands drew imaginary patterns on your waist. "I'll be waiting with bated breath", the brunette whispered, pressing another kiss to the tip of your nose. "I love you".

"I love you too", you sighed, allowing only one more peck on the lips before your parting.

Until the Niffler scuttled to you, pulling on the fabric of your blouse from where he sat on a table. "Oh, Darling", you fawned, Sebastian resisting the urge to hurl. "I'd nearly forgotten you!!". Lifting the creature, you kissed the top of his head. "Mama will be back soon, okay? Behave for your Dad".

Oh, God. He really was going to be sick.

Giving a final wave of your hand, you were off and away, Sebastian's unimpressed glower falling onto the Niffler beside him. "I am not your Dad".

The Niffler seemed to chatter, something akin to mischievous laughter. And I'm not going to behave.

Some of the most horrible hours of Sebastian's life came to follow.

It was one incident after the other, resulting in a few smashed vases and a bruised ego for Sebastian.

"That's it!", he finally snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at the little creature. "I've had it!! Whatever, it is!!".

As if scolding a child, Sebastian continued, "(Y/n) may think you're adorable, but I know the truth, you conniving thief! You might have fooled her, but you don't fool me!! And if you think for one second that—".

"Sebastian?".

His face paled, hearing the voice of his love and the Niffler took his chance. The mischievous creature began to sniffle, as if it were crying, before faking a limp whilst walking to you.

"What happened??", you cried out, spying the shards of a broken vase by the bench, still not cleaned up because of one little Niffler. Your attention instantly diverted to your pet, seemingly in hurt. "What did you do, Sebastian?!".

"What did I do??", he repeated incredulously. "I didn't do anything to him! It was that damn creature running amok!!".

All the while, you were focused on the aforementioned miscreant, feeding into his lies and infuriating Sebastian further.

"He's evil, (Y/n)! That thing needs to go!!".

"That 'thing', is Jeffrey!", you shot back.

"Oh?? So, it has a name now??".

Your eyes bore into the brunette's, searching his darker hues in silent scrutiny for a moment before you spoke again.

"You're jealous".

Those words made him stiffen, silencing any comebacks he'd bottled inside.

"That's ridiculous", Sebastian offered, too weak to be an argument.

"You are!", your mouth fell open, drawing your boyfriend's brows together.

"I am not jealous!".

"By Merlin", you gasped, trying to restrain any laughter threatening to spill out. "You're jealous. Of a Niffler?? ".

"He gets in the way!", Sebastian yelled, harsher than intended. "You're always giving him your attention, I hardly get it anymore! He's also consciously trying to steal you from me, for whatever reason!".

"Steal me?", your brow rose, a few giggles slipping out before your expression softened. Your eyes shifted to Jeffrey, noting that he was uncharacteristically fine for a creature so 'hurt' and you stroked over his fur, placing him aside. "You'll be fine".

The Niffler watched as you approached Sebastian, bringing him into an embrace. Your fingers combed through the soft waves of his hair and down to the nape of his neck, allowing him to melt in your arms.

"Sebastian", you sighed, shaking your head only slightly. "You're right. My attention from you has been divided. And while Jeffrey's behaviour was far from innocent—". You pulled back, running your fingertips over his face, encouraging his eyes to meet yours. "— I will never be stolen away from you. No Human or Niffler can steal me from the one who matters most to me. There's only one Sebastian Sallow. And that's rarer than any treasure".

A smile finally returned to Sebastian's face, the gap closing between you both. Your lips met his, gentle and breezy, calming the fires of anger and jealousy that had once stoked within his heart.

"I'll make us a cup of tea", you whispered, tapping the brunette on his nose, leaving only the brightest of smiles in your wake as you brushed by.

Sebastian turned his attention to the little shit sitting on the nearby counter, his tongue darting out teasingly. "I win".

The Niffler's head seemed to dip, suddenly sad and deflated. A pang of guilt hit Sebastian in that moment and it made him relent to the small creature.

"Fine", he grumbled, unable to fight his growing smile. "I can't believe I'm doing this, but–". He offered his hand. "— friends?". Jeffrey sniffled, almost seeming to nod in agreement when he extended his paw. "Just don't push your luck".

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Ominis Gaunt

The day Ominis met your pet Niffler was utterly magical.

You had lead him into your vivarium for the first time, introducing him to the array of magical creatures that were under your care.

Ominis got to feel the smooth and pristine feathers of a Joberknoll, the fluffy hairs of a Puffskein; and the beak of your Hippogriff, Highwing.

And then the cherry on top; your Niffler.

Nifflers were curious, but harmless creatures. They were notorious for stealing jewels, treasure, coins— anything that sparkled, really. With their affectionate nature and reputation for an adorable stature, it was not a mystery as to why you chose to keep the Niffler you rescued from poachers.

The blonde had always wanted to meet one of those cute little theives and in knowing this, you'd excitedly given him the opportunity.

"Where is he??", Ominis had asked, unable to mask the way his voice travelled an octave higher in his anticipation.

"This way!", he was able to hear the grin in your tone, widening his own as he eagerly allowed himself to be tugged along by the pale tips of his nimble fingers.

You'd gently helped the blonde to be seated on the soft grass, almost finding yourself mesmerised with how the sunlight struck his delicate features.

Whistling and clicking your fingers, there was a shuffling in the grass as something approached. It had startled Ominis only slightly, the new grip of your hand over his own settling him.

You guided his hand forward as you had done so before, his palm finally landing on something soft. A short gasp heaved from the blonde, his lashes fluttering at the new sensations beneath his skin.

There was the rapid rising and falling of the little creature's breaths as he sniffed over the new guest of the vivarium.

A smile carved its way onto Ominis' expression, hesitantly stroking over the little creature beneath his grasp. Your hand lead his over the Niffler's head and snuffling snout, a breathy laugh slipping from the blonde when the small breaths tickled his skin.

Long had he dreamed about this..

"Ominis, I'd like you to meet Sebastian", you laughed at the sudden quizzical look that dawned on your counterpart's expression.

"Sebastian?", Ominis echoed with a quirk of his brow. "You named your Niffler after our friend? ".

No, he wasn't jealous. Not at all.

"Only because he gets into so much trouble", you giggled. "He also has these adorable speckles on his fur around his face. Lilac fur with faded spots".

"Like freckles", he nodded in understanding, trying to fight the deflation dampening his initial excitement. "Does Sebastian know that you've named your 'child' after him?".

Ominis was sure that with the amount of time you'd spent with Sebastian on various escapades in the fifth year and the closeness you still shared now in your seventh, that the brunette had undoubtedly been the first to be shown the Room of Requirement and these lovely creatures.

Perhaps Sebastian was the better suitor for you??

"No, actually", your amused answer shocked Ominis. "I've never brought him here. He doesn't even know of this place".

"He doesn't?", the blonde's brows creased in a bout of confusion. "I thought he'd be the first to know of this place".

"What do you mean??".

Ominis' heart had begun to beat frantically within his chest whilst he'd attempted to play his jealousy and nerves off with a smile, as he often did when it came to your friendship with Sebastian.

"I— I just meant that you two are close", he replied with a tug of his shoulders. "I thought you might have been more inclined to show him over me, is all. I was only confused as to why it was the contrary".

In the few seconds of thoughtful silence that followed, you both had taken notice to the warmth of your hand that still lingered on his own, neither of you daring to separate them. Instead, your fingers slowly inched into the gaps between his own, hinting your intentions with your words,

"Do you not know?".

Ominis squeezed the digits threaded with his own like they were a life-raft, assuring you of his consent before your lips had taken his own in careful caresses.

Absolutely magical.

Or so he'd thought at the time, not realizing he'd just unknowingly declared war against a very protective Niffler.

Ominis dismissed it as paranoia at first, just shrugging off the seemingly possessive behaviour the little creature conveyed.

But, it had become apparent over the many weeks that it wasn't just his imagination playing tricks on him..

The Niffler was clearly jealous of your diverted attention. Ominis had figured that out rather quickly.

Just as the Niffler had figured out how to push his buttons. Like Sebastian.

Whenever you both had picnics in the vivarium or brought Ominis along to help in the care of your creatures, Sebastian lived up to his name.

The mischeievous miscreant always managed to get in the way, snatching Ominis' wand from his robes so that he wouldn't be able to find you or the other creatures before misplacing it to make it look as if it had dropped out by mistake.

You thought that's all it was, despite Ominis knowing and insisting otherwise.

Then, it was the Niffler napping on your lap whenever Ominis wanted to. And of course, you were a sucker for that adorable little shit. He could do no evil, apparently.

Holding hands? The Niffler went out of his way to pry the blonde's hand from yours, snuggling under yours to draw your attention; even going as far as to shove Ominis' hand away and preoccupy your palm with his paw.

Sitting together? Sebastian interfered with that too, worming his annoying little self between your bodies so that he could sit in the middle as a barrier to separate you both.

Whenever Ominis wanted time with you, Sebastian was always there. It was like the Niffler had been incarnated with a piece of his best friend's soul, always troublesome and always interfering.

Ominis finally hit breaking point when the little shit decided to make off not only with his wand, but with the handmade necklace he'd bought from Feldcroft in his most recent visit.

The blonde planned to give it to you as a gift, but even he should've known better than to have it in his pockets when visiting the vivarium to carry out a favour for you, his beloved.

Whilst you would be attending to family business today, he would care for your creatures. Something that was turning out to be a complete impossibility.

In Sebastian's mouth? Ominis' wand.

In his paws?? The necklace.

"Come back here, you little rat! Give those back, Sebastian!!", he cried out, only able to follow the scuttling in the grass and the jingling of the jewellery in the Niffler's greedy grasp.

Wheezing and panting, Ominis crawled and sprinted around, the Niffler releasing an occasional squeak whenever he got close. Until—

"Got you!", the blonde shouted, finding a grip on the Niffler that struggled desperately in his grasp.

It soon became clear that he was holding the little miscreant upside down, coins seeming to pour out of his marsupial-like pouch. His paws were still occupied with the necklace he'd stolen, whining in despair at the loss of his precious coins as they rained down to the floor.

"Serves you right!", Ominis seethed, breathless from his pursuit.

In a sense of victory, the blonde's lips curled into a grin, his fingertips running along the Niffler's belly. The creature chattered as if he were laughing, especially ticklish at the gentle prodding. More coins and jewels rained out as Ominis' fingers reached his sniffling snout.

Quickly snatching his wand back from the little creature's jaw, he boasted, "I win", before reaching for Sebastian's paws.

Ominis caught ahold of the necklace, but the Niffler's grip was like iron.

"Sebastian, give it to me", the blonde chided, tugging on the precious piece of jewellery. "Come on, Sebastian".

The Niffler struggled and resisted, never being more keen to possess anything in his life. Even the measly coins Ominis tried to trade couldn't compare to the necklace and he wasn't willing to break it.

"You stubborn mule! Fine!!", he snapped, huffing as he set Sebastian loose.

Dejected, the blonde sat himself down, soon recieving the company of your Puffskein as it nuzzled into his side. Despite his sadness, even he was unable to resist smiling at the affectionate creature.

Ominis reached over to pet the Puffskein, your mischievous Niffler watching from a distance. All of his lost coins were on the ground by the blonde's legs, but it wasn't them that drew Sebastian back.

It was the realisation that Ominis could love him just as much as you could. That his love was not a threat to the friendship you shared with your favourite pet.

Perhaps he'd tried stealing the wrong person??

Ominis seemed just as compassionate, if not moreso.

His attention soon became divided from the Puffskein when the cool and delicate metal of a necklace was dropped into his palm. The blonde almost couldn't believe it.

A Niffler?? Returning something shiny??

And then it clicked. It wasn't of value to him, but a ploy to sabotage your relationship with Ominis. Sebastian had felt threatened.

"Thank you", Ominis whispered, his lips curling out of amusement as the little creature began to shuffle around and pick up the coins that had dropped.

Perhaps Sebastian was more alike to his human counterpart than the blonde first realised? He has a heart of gold too, although it rarely shows.

And upon your return to the vivarium, you were delighted to find things resolved between your pet and boyfriend, knowing tensions and jealousy had been spiked between the two.

There, Ominis laid on the grass asleep, a freckled lilac Niffler upon his chest.

Your plan had worked..

The End. . .

___________________________________________

Hey readers!! ❤❤ I hope you all enjoyed these fics as much as I loved writing them!! As always, any and all feedback is welcome!

So, please - let me know how I went in writing for Sebastian and Ominis for the first time and how to improve, if I can! If you wished to be added to my taglist for this fandom or any others I write for, check out my masterlist and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in!

Thank you all for your support!! ❤❤❤