#broken you are so nice *holds you gentle* pat pat pat

[kandidandi]

I'm sorry I keep bothering you but I just IOHTGEODLKHLKIDHORTHS It feels just incredible being able to talk to someone you idolize. I swear it makes my day when you reply (probably more than it should) you're just so amazing and a huge inspiration and I just- AAAAAAA ❤❤❤❤ I genuinely can't explain how indescribably happy you seriously make me. Please, continue to be an amazing person you really are special and a ray of light in my life. I genuinely wish I could form the words to tell you how much I appreciate and idolize you. You bring me more happiness than my literal antidepressants. You're a fantastic person and I mean it wholeheartedly. I really do. I know this is sappy and stuff, but I can't put into words how incredibly special you are. Stay awesome and make sure you take care of yourself, because you deserve the world. You claim you're just a normal person, but in my eyes, you really are a precious gem. Thank you for being in my life. Truly.

(Sorry to be a nuisance by repeatedly sending asks.)

omg thats really sweet thank you so much!!! im so glad you get happiness from my blog :D

[circinuus]

wardance, romance, and neutron bombs

jing yuan x nameless! reader. 1k words

crisis diverted and peace retrieved, the general caught you running around luofu catching the dust that settles.

the luminary wardance was an eventful experience.

the exhilaration of reclaimed peace keeps everyone afloat as much as how the loss weighs them an anchor. for you, a Nameless, it’s only natural to do what you can to help in these precarious times!

returning lost packages in stargazer navalia. passing by the seat of divine foresight and hope to meet general jing yuan. finding depressed broken cycranes in the exalting sanctum. checking general jing yuan-recommended puffergoat milk in aurum alley. throwing away suspicious package littering the starskiff haven. stare at the sky and imagine general jing yuan’s eyes-

“fudge! son of a!—“

“ah, careful, there.”

“—n-nice beautiful man..??!”

your voice chokes like a fish gasping on land. a warm hand steadies the box in your hands, the other keeps your waist still from a doom dive the viridescent stairs.

“i see you have been busy. luofu is truly blessed to have your assistance. but please, don’t let yourself get injured.”

there’s only one person with that kind of gentle voice. and it’s— it’s—

“has someone been asking you to do these errands?”

a petal from the ambrosial arbor drifts upon his face. you see forsythia as you gaze into the gentle, golden irises of the sleepy general.

in flesh. oh. in flesh?

(ahh. he’s truly, verily prepossessing. his arms are very secure. with the kind of gentleness that evokes the desire of domesticity.)

(can’t you just marry him, actually? who cares about trailblazing?)

“(Name)?”

“yes!”

jing yuan takes a step forward in worry when you jerk backwards, though your feet landed in the good fortune of a steady staircase this time. you miss the general’s safe arms as quick as how your common sense dictated you to not exploit the close proximity. but for your dignity, at least, you attempt to paint what you hope a thoroughly normal, reasonably reserved smile.

well, you failed, simply.

“general! thank you! i didn’t expect to see you here! erm, sir!” your palms are clammy against the cardboard box. “and no one forced me, if you still ask. i’m just doing it.. in the name of the wedding— err... the Nameless.. trailblaze, yes. that. haha..”

the general gives you a closed eye smile. (and a preceding single raise of brow. but you turned a blind eye and refuse to think that the general has noticed your battered dignity).

“haha, aren’t you a sprightly little sparrow?” he lets out a loose chuckle, and you think you can die happy, anyway. “things have quieted down. i reckon a stroll will be prudent to see how everyone fares.”

“a stroll?”

“a stroll, yes.”

…

“r-right! a small break, and to oversee how everyone holds. a pleasure to cross paths here, sir!”

jing yuan shakes his head with amusement, “could I trouble you by joining you for a moment, (Name)? allow me to extend my gratitude on behalf of all luofu. the alliance is the astral express’ ally. you’ve done more than enough.”

a sudden formal words of appreciation!

“y-yes of course!” you scratch the back of your head, “it’s.. i’ll be sure to relay the words to everyone. thank you, general.”

ah.

you wished the general would have opted to pat your head instead. the mole on his cheek seemed more vivid when he speaks. or is it his golden eyes? his pretty laugh?

laugh?

when your eyes refocused, the laugh is, in fact, sourced from the man perpetually orbiting your waking dreams.

“no need to be so stiff, (Name). there will be no more duties pushed upon you.”

“i-i don’t mind. ready on standby, general!”

“is that so?” jing yuan, at this point perpetually delighted by whatever you do, leisurely strolls along beside you, mouth curled in an easy curve. “when you are free, could you please spend some time sparring with yanqing?"

“if general thinks i’m capable, then yes, general!”

“ah, speaking of... the teahouse sent over a collection of new releases from immortal’s delight. i can’t finish the batches of tea, but didn’t want to refuse the teahouse’s goodwill...”

“i will head over as soon as possible to help, general!”

“on that note, I wonder whether you have the time for another game of xianzhou starchess as well?”

“yes! yes! I will not waste your past teachings. anything for you, general!”

“then, what of staying in luofu with me?”

you almost repeat a nod in obeisance. but the brain sooner short circuits before it processes the last clause of his proposal.

proposal.

proposal…

system hours slow down. you can hear the drop of a coin from the shop across the streets. witness the creation of the universe, the cosmic ripples from carcasses of dead aeons, the thread of fate dictating the universe. what did he say again?

soberness arrive in the form of warmth on your shoulder.

“apologies, (Name). I jest in good nature.” jing yuan starts, “I know the path of trailblaze entails tracing the vast universe’s untouched trails. and I know that spirit burns bright within you. who am I to tie down a sparrow bound to the skies?”

you were almost that close to pipe a, “who cares! it’s you!”

alas. rejoice that the spirit of akivili slapped your brain in time to force a polite cough from your throat.

"well," you shift in your feet, half in mourning for the inevitable parting and half in lighthearted giddiness. “we can always visit luofu, and you are welcome to the express, too, general.”

jing yuan hums, content watching the bustling shops and streets. “that I am very grateful for your kind welcome.”

colored in his tone, painted in the subtle visage, you can hear a mix—although not potent—of melancholic acceptance. jing yuan is a man who has made terms with too many losses and enough unattainable dreams. you have talked of how his childhood dream as a galaxy ranger who roams the universe, of a shadow of an old friend when he sees dan heng, of the foxian nameless who left naught but a name. all the moments, with his distant expression, he eventually disregards in one same breath.

he seems to notice your gaze, as he looks back to you with an inquisitive tone, (and if he had worn the same distant, longing expression at your person, you never caught it, and jing yuan knows best to not let himself linger).

“—(Name)?”

“uh? sorry?”

that placating face marks another gentle, slightly charmed smile, “unfortunately, I think I’ve cut you off long enough from your agenda today. what were you doing?”

the spotlight is suddenly pressed on the box in your hands.

“oh, right, it’s nothing, general.” you readjust the cardboard cube.

“I found a bomb and it marked my bio sensors. something about exploding if I’m out of its proximity.”

“pardon me?”

this was supposed to be crack but please ignore the cringe either way. it’s from an actual quest if anyone wants extra jades and jy content!

[lorelune]

hell is a hound without a chain

|| blade x gn!reader || M || yandere wolf hybrid blade || wc: 3.8k  || ao3 ||

A bite is quite a burden.

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

a/n: folds hands man ... hybrid blade is sure something. i chewed on this au for a minute because truly hybrid blade is such a flavor. a toothy one. enjoy loves!!

CW: dark content, hybrid AU, wolf hybrid blade, yandere blade, reader is not a hybrid, biting, claiming bites, caretaking, victim blaming, injured reader, references to reader drinking casually

You ache.

Your neck hurts.

It’s hurt for the past few days, and you imagine it will continue to hurt for the next several weeks, considering that Blade is not allowing you to heal in any meaningful capacity.

You sit on the bathroom counter, a bit teary-eyed, with Blade standing between your legs. A scented candle sputters on a small shift. Blade’s tail swishes. Annoyed. Ears twitching and jaw locked. There’s a first aid kit open beside you and it's running low on gauze and antibiotic ointment.

You sniffle as Blade pats at the wound on your neck. He’s being… gentle. For him anyway. The contact and disinfectant still sting and you hiss at the sensation and jerk away.  

Blade stills.  

"I’ll bind you again." His hand cups your jaw— too tightly. "Would you like to force my hand?"

"No, n-not really.” You sound pathetic. You want to cry. You probably will. "It hurts. I'm sorry."

Blade sighs but doesn't press you. He trades the disinfectant for a slather of ointment and prepares a gauze pad. The piece he cuts is larger than normal. It’s the size of his palm. You suppress the urge to feel for the wound on your neck and check its size and depth. You haven't gotten a good look at it yet. Judging by the red stain soaking down the front of your shirt, it’s a worse wound than normal. 

Blade has made it a routine to freshen the bite mark on your neck at least once a week. He always sinks his teeth into the same spot while other, less severe marks decorate your throat and shoulders (and chest and stomach and thighs, but those are easier to dismiss.) The mark he worries the most, the one that you know he associates with some animalistic claim, is on your side, broken flesh splitting where your neck meets your shoulder.

...

You first... 'earned' it after leaving Blade to his own devices for a weekend. 

It was just a beach trip with a few friends. Kafka encouraged it— you needed to stretch your legs. ‘Bladie’ as she so affectionately referred to your hybrid, was more than capable of taking care of himself. He was doing so long before you came into the picture and formally offered your home up to him. Besides, he’d had several months to settle into your home, hadn’t he? Kafka goaded you into accepting a “well-deserved” break. Himeko seemed... hesitant about the arrangement at the time. She warned that hybrids can get a bit prickly about being left alone, even if they are independent. 

("They tend to hold grudges.")

The trip was a mistake. 

It had been a lovely weekend. Kafka had thrown her card down for a beachside cabana at a resort. Drinking sweet fruity cocktails, lounging in the sun, and generally relaxing. It was... nice to be out and not worried about Blade. He knew where you were. He had a phone with an internet connection that he knew he could use, and he didn't bother to contact you. You figured he was enjoying the break from his typical vigilance. Perhaps he was enjoying not having an owner to stalk around and guard.

You were wrong. Wildly.

The moment you arrived home (you hadn't even set your bags down—), Blade was on you. Pressed into your own door, he growled and spat that you smelled “wrong”. You asked him what he meant— you nervously joked you could take a quick shower and make dinner. Whatever he wanted. Your voice had trembled, and your breath had started coming too quickly. 

His gaze pierced you a moment later, a growl ripping from his mouth, lips curling back. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the way he grabbed your jaw, jerked your head to the side, and buried his teeth in your neck. He covered your mouth with his palm when you screamed. Muffled any shout or cry for help. You knew Blade was strong, but you hadn't ever realized how strong. You were immobilized between him and his teeth and the door.

By the time he withdrew and lapped at the wound he'd made, you were sobbing, scrambling to get away, run, shut yourself in your room, and try to figure out how the fuck to handle this situation—   but Blade hadn't let you far. He cleaned the wound first with his tongue, then a damp rag, then dressed it properly as has become routine. He carried you to bed and curled around you. Arms locked around your waist, legs tangled. It would’ve been sweet if he was your lover.

(But, he is not. He is a wolf you foolishly allowed into your home.)

The reality of your situation began to sink in then. Slowly. Bit by bit. 

Blade freshens the bite about once a week, give or take. If he's feeling antsy, it's less. If you're more compliant, more tethered to home, or dare to take him in public with you, he leaves it alone. Allows it to almost heal before digging his canines into the rapidly thickening layers of scar tissue.

It's awful of him, but you don’t think he'll ever stop now that he's intent on marking you. You had been stupid to think of yourself as anything other than a claim to him, hadn't you?

A few tears drip down your cheeks as Blade secures the dressings. He dabs them away with the side of his finger, careful not to scratch you with his blackened claws. He brackets you in on your sides. He tips his forehead against yours and deflates.

"Bed," he says. It's something akin to a request. He'll take you there, anyway, but being given a warning feels like a luxury.

"Okay." Your voice is quiet. Scratchy from shrieking against his palm less than an hour before.

Blade scoops you up and ferries you to bed. He pauses to throw an extra blanket onto his... nest (even if it's on your bed). It’s a quilt he favors, worn through but soft. His preference for it would be endearing under different circumstances. 

He runs a hand through your hair, trailing his touch down to the wet collar of your shirt, “You need to change. You’re dirty.”

As is routine, he pulls your shirt off as you squirm. You lightly shove at his chest, if only to make yourself feel better. Resist a little for your own pride, despite knowing it’s useless. Your modesty doesn’t matter to Blade (not if it’s just him and you in the room. He’s permitted himself to your skin in the most non-traditional ways.) Regardless, you aren’t bare for long. He replaces your shirt with his own. It’s warm and too big. His frame is almost inhuman, and it gapes around your shoulders.

Blade cajoles you to the headboard and lets you fuss a bit along the way. He sits behind 

you and settles you between his thighs. The knit blanket is pulled over your lap and his arms wind around your waist, unyielding. Locking you there. Blade tucks his face into your neck on the... less injured side. He scents you there with a half-there growl. 

You rub at your puffy eyes. Your chest hurts.

"You need to rest." Blade tells you. He tells you this often. He's more in tune with your physical state than you are these days, so you appreciate the reminders. You feel half out of your body. 

"... Oh yeah?" you laugh, voice wobbly. "I should, huh? Don't I need to make dinner?"

"Unnecessary." Blade replies. He squeezes you. "You need to rest, first. I will prepare a meal."

"... Sure." Blade doesn’t do particularly well in the kitchen. "I can rest, then cook, okay? If you can wait that long? Otherwise, I can cook then rest later too—"

Then Blade really growls. It’s the kind that you feel between your ribs and makes you go stiff. His mouth opens, too hot against the fragile skin near your neck, and the points of his canines rest. Idle. You start to shake. 

"You will rest." Blade tells you. "I... went too harshly on you. You are weak. You need to rest. I will cook so you do not need to. I cannot guarantee that it will be any good, but you should not be on your feet."

You laugh. something rotten curls in your belly.

There’s care in the way that Blade speaks about you. He rarely speaks in such a forward way— it’s hard for him. You can hear how he struggles between certain words. How the sentences are harder for him to construct. The sentiment of care is not easy for him. This makes sense— as he is a wolf that has you in his jaws. There is not care in slaughter. An animal’s claim is just that. A claim. Baseless. Primal. A twitch that follows an instinct, maybe. 

Hearing him say things that could be kind makes you want to vomit.

You dig your nails into Blade's forearms. His hold constricts.

"Why would you care?" You snap. "Don't act like you give a shit about my wellbeing, as if you didn't just take a fucking chunk out of me."

It's the wrong thing to say. You know this. It’s better to not anger him. But it's hard to care when you’re this tired and worn down. Self-preservation is an afterthought. You feel spiteful, terrified tears burn your eyes. You wait for a wolf’s violence as Blade tenses and goes still behind you.

Preparing for the kill, you presume.

Instead, however, his mouth closes, and soft lips press into your throat. No teeth. No apparent ire. No mouthy attitude. And he stays quiet. Somehow drags you closer into the solid, warm line of his front. He is solid, maybe a little softer than when he first moved in with you. 

"My mark on you is protection, even if you do not realize it." Blade tells you. You figured as much, but it doesn't justify it. "Anyone who smells or sees you knows that you are claimed."

"Yeah, so everyone knows I've got some bully of a wolf at home, ready to tear my throat out?"

(You've read his file, you know he's capable of it.)

"I wouldn't." Blade's voice grates, low and angry. “I... I wouldn't. Not to you."

"If you say so."

"I mean it." He punctuates it with a kiss. He's half-hard against your lower back and you swallow. "I... I do not know how else to convey to you that you are cared for. That you are mine."

(You’re not sure you believe him. There are other, crueler ways he could. On your more anxiety-ridden nights, you’re grateful that Blade’s touch hasn’t strayed there. Never. He hasn’t ever touched you like that, with that part of him. Anything below your neckline is all teeth and tongue. Violence is his language of physicality, you've found. Pleasure he seems foreign to.)

"I'm yours?" You dig your nails in and his tail slaps the bed. good. You'll bear the consequences later. Best to get it all out of your system. "When did I agree to this?"

Blade thinks, for a moment. You doubt he'll be able to find when you did agree because you haven't.

"You allowed me into your home. Bed. I wear a collar with your name on it when I must leave this place." Blade tells you. His hand cups your chin, turning your face toward his, and his nails tease over your cheeks. "What did you think all of that meant?"

Your stomach drops. 

"... A kindness?"

“An offering." He corrects. He noses into your jaw, scenting again. His touch drifts under your soft shirt, resting over your tummy. "One that was accepted."

"Oh."

It hits you. All of it. Awareness is like being dunked in ice water, suffocating on it, and throwing it back up. Kafka had once warned you that hybrids think so differently from humans. You figured the differences would be... obvious. Easy to sort through.

You were, once again, so wrong.

You want to tell Blade that that's not what you meant. That you opened your home and heart because he was a beaten down stray who clearly needed a home— one where he was the only one of his kind. Where he had the attention he needed to thrive, and the space to do so too. That you signed your name on the necessary paperwork not as a proposition but as a gesture of care. 

In the same moment, you realize that even if you do tell all of this to Blade, it wouldn’t matter. This misunderstanding has been steeping for months beyond your control. You feel stupid. Foolish. So naive it hurts. There’s a bite mark dug into the flesh of your neck that will never really scar. If Blade can help it, it will never fully heal. You’ll bear it bloody... forever. 

“You smell wrong.” Blade huffs against your neck. He squeezes over your hips, rubbing little circles into the soft flesh.

Can he smell when you’re upset?

Probably. Blade always got particularly cagey when you would return home from the rare trip into the office. You were always exhausted, on edge, and overstimulated from a full day of endless everything. Blade would follow you around on those days, never letting you out of his sight. He’d wrap you up in blankets from his bed. Shove you in his clothes. Hand-fed you in his lap despite the fact his hands were too big and arthritic. 

Was that care? 

(So, so clearly.)

You don't realize you're on the verge of tears until you open your mouth to speak and nothing comes out but a wounded, awful cry. Like you're the pained animal and not Blade. 

"Hush." Blade tells you. He smooths your shirt— his shirt over your front, over your chest in a way that makes your breath hitch and squirm uncomfortably. He’s burning hot against your back. "You are safe. You can rest now."

Is that care?

Tears slip from the corners of your eyes. They’re angry, tired, and sad all at once. You try to suck them down the best you can.

Blade pulls you at you, sinking you into the sheets. He spoons you, flush against your back, hot and soft in all the ways that matter. You bury your face into your pillow when he runs a soothing, clawed hand up and down the back of your neck.

For a moment, you consider your options. It’s immediately overwhelming. Defeating. 

You know that there is nothing you can do about your position. You could rear up, slap Blade, and scramble for the door. There are organizations. Sections of government that handle situations like this. You might be able to get to your phone. At least text someone that things have gotten out of hand.

You also know that Blade would not allow this. He'd not allow you out of bed, let alone this room. He'd have you pinned, belly to the bed with a hand dug into your hair to brace you there. He'd let you squirm and kick and scream. He'd bruise you in return— leave his own marks. another set of molted hickeys across your shoulders.

He'd probably push at the freshly bloodied claim on your neck too. Never mind that he just patched you up. 

It's hopeless, and the knowledge hits you so hard that you feel winded. You scramble against the bed to grab onto the sheets, and you cry. It’s in your chest. You sob and cry so hard it hurts. The sounds you are making are ugly and broken. The feeling between your eyes is burgeoning into an acidic headache, and your mouth is somehow dry even as you get spit on the soft sheets. 

Despair is not beautiful. It’s toxic and infecting. 

Despite this, Blade does not move away. He is steadfast, and curls overtop of you. He hushes you with his simple, curt words and a low rumble in his chest that's hard to identify. It soothes something in your hindbrain you wish you could kill. His lips press into your hair. His touch is solid, bruising, but not maiming

Violence... shouldn't be comforting.

And yet— yet it is. When the tears come slower, and morph into hiccups as you desperately try and catch your breath, Blade... helps, you realize. His mane of hair spills over your face, like a curtain to darken the room. His hand slips to your front, under your shirt once more so it's his palm against the clammy skin of your chest.

"Breathe." He tells you. It's a command. "Like this."

His hand strokes up and down, in time with his own slow, deep breaths. There's the terrifying edge of his claws, blackened and sharpened, but they never cut in enough to gore. Only enough to remind you that they’re sharp— to maim, to protect— (what’s the difference to a wolf like him?) You're drained, and you can only follow his lead, sucking in breaths that become more steady with each one.

There's nothing left in you by the time you settle. You're wrung out, emptied and so tired. It's clarifying, maybe. As Blade pets you into sleep, you shakily bring a hand to press over the covered, weeping wound in your neck. A full moon of teeth marks. Even the light touch aches.

Blade nips at your hand, nosing it away. 

(How terrible, really. To be cared for by a beast who believes love and violence are one in the same. How terribly idiotic of you to not notice. How... cruel of Kafka for never connecting the dots for you. You’re sure she must’ve taken note, at some point, of Blade’s claim on you and its implications. She was once in your position, but knowing her own disposition, Blade never took her like he’s taken you.)

(Himeko probably noticed as well. But, she’s the type to only step in if she thinks she can make a difference. She has her own self-preservation in mind, and you can respect that. Mostly. Perhaps she saw Blade’s claim taking shape and realized that a Wolf’s bite is not something she had the claws to interfere with. She has her own hybrids to take care of. You ignored her words of caution in the beginning when she first offered them.)

(It’s hard to fault her.)

(And how can you fault Blade for his instincts? Perhaps you were too kind. You lacked caution— self-preservation— whatever you wish to call it. You put your own soft throat in the line of Blade’s bite. In retrospect, it’s frighteningly clear. It guts you. Over and over. The only thing that tethers you is Blade’s touch and breath against your neck. A reminder.)

(A reminder that you are his to tug and push and pull as he pleases. That he’ll leave bite marks where he desires, never to gore, but to show that you’re... protected.)

Isn’t there something alluring about that? 

It makes you shake all over again. It makes you muffle a fresh sob into your pillow and you beat your fists against the mattress. Blade lets out a growly word or two you can’t make out as he pins your wrists to the mattress.

It makes sense, now, why Blade always wanted to accompany you out on errands, if only to growl and bark at anyone who looked at you too long. You had thought he was just poorly socialized (partially true) — but he was snapping at strangers to make sure no one even thought of looking at you for too long. Let alone touch. Pursue. 

You have a hazy memory of a night at the cocktail bar. Kafka had asked you to come alone— ‘girls night’ again. Blade had given you the cold shoulder when you told him sheepishly that you’d be leaving him at home. Whatever alcohol dulls the memory, but you can recall Blade had thrown you over his shoulder the moment you had come home. You swayed and slurred your words and Blade looked ready to gut you. He threw you in bed, tore off the pretty dress that he had said was “far too revealing” and shoved you into one of his sleepshirts without listening to a single one of your protests. Your fighting and punching didn’t deter him— it didn’t make him any more aggravated. 

(“You’re stupid.” Blade had told you, roughly wiping a soft cloth over your face. Makeup smears on the fabric. “Why are you out in the dark? How did you get home?”

“... You’re silly. I took a cab.” You tell him with a frown. You bat at his ears and Blade grabs your arms with such force you’re scared they’ll break. 

“You’re reckless.” Blade had growled in your ear. “Do you know what you invite when you’re in this state?” 

“... A hangover?” 

Blade had stared at you, fuming. The next moment, his teeth were embedded in your neck and a pillow was shoved over your face as you wailed. Your vision swam as he pulled away, lips and chin smeared red. 

Blood stains his teeth as he drags you up by the collar, and spits— “Do you know how many men would eat you alive like this?”)

You realize now that there was an implicit— “And I’m not there to keep it from happening.”

There’s comfort in it. You feel disgusting, but the roiling behind your eyes is cut by how warm Blade is behind you. That he’s good at patching the wound on your neck, and attentive when you let him be. 

If you really can't escape Blade and your mutual incidental claim... maybe it could be okay. There’s some assurance that Blade will not gore you, only tenderly hurt for the sake of some instinct you will never feel, but are coming to understand. He is honest too. His words are solid. He is too straightforward to mince his words. They are never a riddle. There's safety in being underneath him as you are now. 

There's safety in him. You almost cry again. He'll hurt you but never rend apart into pulp as you know he could. He'll sink his teeth in but as a claim. His slaughter is accompanied by care— for you. Slaughter inflicted on others is instinctual violence born from different baser needs. It hits you, like a blow to the chest, that whatever brutality he could inflict on you, is only a fraction of what he would inflict for you.

"Oh," you say, so softly, as you realize. You feel foolish all over again. 

Blade makes a contented sound against your nape. Mouthing at you. His palm is settled at the base of your throat. "Your kind can be so slow. Now rest."

You laugh, blurting it out into your buttery sheets. There are specks of blood dotting the cream fabric, new and old. Fresh and faded. 

You'll have to restock your first-aid kit.

[palesweetscherryblossom]

In the arms of a Snake

Warning: Possessive behavior, Shigaraki gets a bit murderous, mentioned child neglect, infertility, overall fluff

It was rare for children to be seen in the forest, especially in Shigaraki’s part. Humans didn’t stoop too low, at least that’s what Tomura wanted to think. He stared down to the hypnotized child in his arms, currently staring at him with red tinted eyes, replacing their e/c.

But Tomura couldn’t help but take this as a blessing. Many nights he and his mate had often lamented about their lack of hatchlings. Every egg laid always a dud, every mating season a cruel taunt to them.

Dabi had always looked so miserable whenever spotting broken egg shells in naga nests, curling up in the nest as he stared blankly. Shigaraki felt himself grow giddy with the prospect of Dabi getting to hold you, to experience the joys of parenthood. Teaching you to hunt, running around in the spring and summertime, snuggling up in the colder months.

The deal was only made sweeter when you cuddled up to his chest, trying to get warm. “Nn.” You murmured, hand reaching for the necklace Shigaraki wore. You fiddled around with the skeleton fingers and little quartzes, absolutely enamored with it. “Hmhmh, we’ll get you something like that soon. Then you can be just like papa.” Shigaraki chuckled. You shivered after a particularly cold wind swept over the forest, swaying the branches and rustling the bushes. “Cold..” You whined lowly, trying to get more warmth. Shigaraki shushed you gently, patting your head.

“We’ll bundle you up nice and snug when we get there.” Shigaraki assured as he spotted the telltale cave in the distance.

After many months of sleeping in trees, on rocks or in burrows, Shigaraki and Dabi had found their permanent home in a cozy little cave. It was ideal, next to a lovely little pond and fruit trees. Shigaraki slithered inside, greeted with the sight of his handsome mate.

Dabi was an oddity amongst naga, for his gnarly burns set him apart as unique. Not mention little “inconveniences” that wasn’t apart of naga behavior. He had to have his food cooked, had to be careful with sheddings and was sensitive to certain things.

Shigaraki loved him the same, he found his swift movements and dry attitude humorous. Not to mention kindred spirit of being mistreated by the ones who were supposed to care. The delicious scent of roasting meat filled Tomura’s senses as he entered into the home. Dabi stopped tending to the fire and directed his attention towards Tomura. A dry yet playful smile rested on his scarred face.

“Took you long enough, had me thinking you were caught or something.” He slithered on over to his mate, who in turn acknowledged him with gentle peck on his cheek.

“As if, firecracker. I’m almost hurt that you’d think so highly of those parasitic primates.” Shigaraki taunted back before smirking. “Did you eat yet?” He inquired, Dabi shook his head.

“Nah, takes awhile for this stupid boar to roast.” Dabi then caught the scent of something unfamiliar. It wasn’t rare for Tomura to come back reeking of something unfamiliar but this had a special tint. Sweet, delicate. Like baby powder and peppermint.

Then blue eyes wandered to the hazy child in Tomura’s embrace. “Tomura, where? How?” Dabi for once in his life, felt completely flabbergasted by something Tomura brought home. Tomura smirked pridefully almost, his tail gently wrapping around Dabi’s in an attempt for comfort.

“This is our hatchling. Poor little lamb was left out in the forest with no food or water. Oh, the poor baby was crying and screaming.” Tomura’s heart ached at remembering your sad little sobs. “I had to put them in a trance to relax them.” Dabi was hyper focused on you, his eyes expressing longing and sympathy. It was like he was staring at himself, lost and afraid. “C-can I hold em?” He asked shakily, gently holding your relaxed body as you let out a tiny confused mumble.

“It’s just papa Dabi, no need to be afraid of him, hatchling.” Tomura cooed sweetly. Dabi stared at you, slithering over to the nest.

It felt strange yet pleasant to feel your body on his chest, your soft flesh and breathing a far cry from the cold eggs he felt before. Tomura joined his mate, nuzzling his neck as Dabi cuddled you tenderly. “They’re never going back.” He hissed, Shigaraki nodded.

“We’ll keep them nice and secure in the nest. It’s where they belong now.”

Welcome home

@messedupcookiejar

[airbendertendou]

I'M IN RUINS! ♡ mitsuya takashi

synopsis : maybe he really is just that nice to everyone. | inspired by the cdrama hidden love

song inspo ; going dumb by stray kids, alesso, corsak

cw : baji!reader ; reader has their period, but no pronouns ; baji is referred to as your brother, but looks aren't stated ; more of a college-ish au ; kazutora favortism briefly got the best of me

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

It's so unfair, you think. Being so close to him, yet not allowing to linger — it's disheartening. You ache ; suffer and beg and cry, thinking of your brother's friend.

Baji sighs as you frown at him. "Do you really need to go?"

"Why am I not allowed to?" You reply. You'd put on your cutest outfit and your favorite shoes. After hearing Mitsuya was tagging along to this little get together, how could you not? "I'm hungry and you're going to eat."

"You never want to go," your brother argues. You cross your arms and tilt your head, raising your eyebrows to look stern. It's the way your mom looks at him ; the way she gets him to listen. Keisuke clicks his tongue, "whatever. Come on, then."

——♡——

By the time Chifuyu pulls up to the meeting area, your stomach is aching. You shuffle where you stand, sending a meek smile to Draken when he looks your way. Kazutora is distracting your brother, giggling together as you wait for the last guest to arrive.

A rumble hits the wind, covering the chattering of the other guys and numerous shoppers. Lilac hair shines in the light and you hold your breath — he's here.

"Boys," Mitsuya grins as he parks his bike. His eyes slide to you, smile growing gentle, less teasing. “Hey, trouble. Make a last minute decision to come?"

You nod silently, holding your stomach and trying to hide your grimace. Mitsuya tilts his head curiously, but gets taken into a conversation with Draken. You tug on the end of Baji's hair, "I'm going to the bathroom really quick."

A chest is pressed to your back quicker than you can think. A hand — gentle and firm simultaneously — leads you to the left. Mitsuya clears his throat as you scowl at him. "I'll show you where the bathroom is."

You want to cry. You're absolutely mortified at what you discover. Your pee is red — the reason behind your stomach pain is clear. Your favorite bottoms are stained and you're unable to wear them now. Having your period is natural, nothing to be ashamed about.

But, Mitsuya noticed. He shielded your backside so that no one else would see the splash of blood.

Leaning against the stall's wall, you sniffle as tears drip down your nose. You'd texted Draken about your current problem — Keisuke had broken his phone just yesterday. The blond was your only hope at this point ; you hoped he'd read your text soon.

"[Name]," a knock to the bathroom door startles you. "Here. I'll wait for you, okay?"

Humiliation — Mitsuya had taken it upon himself to get you supplies. Taking in a stuttered breath, you fought to make your sobs unknown. You dab your face with toilet paper lightly before opening the door. Quickly, you snatch the bag you see and ignore the one standing in the doorway.

He'd gotten you a new outfit, too. The same color as your previous one, so that no one else would notice what happened. Your tears fell again as you situated yourself.

Once out of the bathroom, you sniff and avoid Mitsuya's gaze. Draken is leaning against the wall across from you, looking over you quickly as you walked to him. You brush your bottoms lightly, head to the floor as you stand in silence.

"No big deal," Draken reassures you. He pats the top of your head with a grin, "let me know if you want to go home, okay?"

Your nod is stopped by an arm wrapping aound your shoulders. Mitsuya squeezes you close to him, trapping you in the smell of his cologne. "S'all good, trouble. Tell us if you feel unwell."

The light catches through a window, shining on Mitsuya like a hidden halo. His eyes light up, his eyelashes curving against his cheek as he smiles. Mitsuya's nose scrunches as laughs at something Draken says. Peeking at you with his peripheral vision, he tilts his head.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re so nice to me.” It's said before you can even think. Because he is nice to you — kind, welcoming and warm. Mitsuya squeezes you a bit closer before letting go of you completely. Chifuyu waves your way excitedly. Your small, "thank you," is covered by the noise of the restaraunt.

——♡——

Mitsuya had left the table not long ago. Keisuke shoves your shoulder, causing you to bump into Kazutora. The dual-haired boy gasps dramatically before shoving into your right shoulder, bumping you back into your brother.

Your giggles are drowned out by the sight of Draken shaking his head. Chifuyu speaks through his own laughter, "where's Mitsuya?"

"Flirting," Draken says with a roll of his eyes. Your smile fades, falling from your face slowly at the words. Draken lets out a loud sigh, "can't take him anywhere."

Baji grumbles into your ear, "I'll say."

Kazutora snorts, covering his mischivious grin with his hand. He lays his head on your shoulder, "oh, whatever shall we do with such a pretty boy?"

Your grin inflates again at Kazutora's casual teasing. You ruffle his hair, scrunching your nose as he scowls playfully at you. "You're a pretty boy, too, you know."

Kazutora's eyes widen, his cheeks pinkening at your words as he sits up straight. Your eyes slide across the table. "So is Chifuyu, honestly." You look to your brother and grimace, "don't know what happened to you."

Baji clicks his tongue before shoving you again. Kazutora catches you in a backwards hug, his forearm settling across your collarbones. "Be nice to [name], Baji!"

"Jus' cause you were called pretty..." your brother grumbles to himself.

The chair across from you is pulled out, a loud screech hitting the area you're in. Mitsuya plops down with a stone-faced expression, his eyes focused solely on you. "Enjoying ourselves, are we?"

"Like you can talk," Draken teases. The tall blond flutters his eyelashes and clasps his hands together. "Oh, it's you! From class! The fashion designer!"

"Can't talk to my classmates now?"

Chifuyu snickers, kicking your foot under the table as he does. You shake your head, sinking your chin below Kazutora's arm to hide your grin. Mitsuya eyes your position idly before tilting his head, "you both look comfy."

Kazutora pulls you closer, "[Name] thinks I'm pretty."

"I said Chifuyu was, too!"

The dual-haired boy hums into your ear. "But, you thought of me first."

"As fun as this is," Draken looks up from his phone. He sighs before pocketing the device. "Mikey is calling for us. Want me to take you home, [name]?"

"I'll do it," Mitsuya interrupts. He lets out a sigh, gaze drifting from you and laying on the table. "I'm going to check on my sisters, anyways."

You're waving to your friends as Mitsuya leans against his bike. You can feel him watching you, but you ignore his eyes to grin gleefully at Kazutora.

"He your recent crush?"

"What?" You blink, turning to face the lilac-haired boy. Mitsuya shrugs, making no move to leave as he gazes at you. "Kazu? He's not my crush, why?"

"But, you do have one," he steps closer to you. "A crush."

Gulping, you move away from him and to the back of the bike. "Maybe."

Mitsuya hums, "your brother know?"

"Why would I tell Keisuke about a crush?" You lean beside him now, frowning to the ground. Kicking at the sidewalk with your foot, you scrunch your nose. "He's horrible at keeping secrets."

He nods and you're hyperaware of the way his arm brushes against yours. It's like he's doing it on purpose — moving closer to you. "I'm not. You can tell me who it is."

"No thanks!"

"Why not?"

You grow silent, even as Mitsuya gets closer. His arm is behind your back at this point, his hand sitting on the seat of his bike. "You don't need to know."

"I want to."

"Do you have a crush on anyone?" As he doesn't answer, you finally look his way. Soft, dreamy eyes are looking at you. His gaze feels heavy ; heated as he stares your way. "Mitsuya?"

He blinks and looks away, "maybe."

"Would you tell me who it is?"

"Well, that's not fair," he leans closer, his lips brush against your ear, "is it, [name]?"

You freeze, eyes widening as Mitsuya tilts his head at you curiously. Staring at the ground, you think about it for a second. You think maybe I should tell him ; maybe it's time. Then your mind flashes back to before — to when Draken said he was flirting.

"Oh, is it someone from your class? The one Ken was talking about?"

Mitsuya doesn't answer — that means yes, you think. Downhearted, you frown and scoot away from him, leaving room to breathe. He doesn't allow that, though, scooting until your arms are pressed together once again.

"It's a friend," Mitsuya speaks up. He leans more to the left, his chin almost resting on your right shoulder. "A close friend."

You gasp dramatically, hoping to interrupt the intense atmosphere. "It's Chifuyu, isn't it? Knew it — he's irresistible."

Mitsuya snorts, rolling his eyes. You smile at the sound, oblivious to the way he gazes at you. He bites his lip, hesitant, but nudges the tip of his shoe against yours anyways. You meet his gaze — his eyes flicker from yours briefly before he smiles tenderly. "I'll tell you who it is. Eventually."

You trust he'll keep his word.

——♡—— idk abt a part two for this one... tbh i like how it ends. if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any tokyo revengers content, let me know! ♡

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @straysugzhpe ♥︎ @star2fishmeg ♥︎

🍓 TOKYOREV TAGLIST : @thatpoindexterpixy

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[colonelarr0w]

Starry Night

Sypnosis - Sitting together on a starry night...what could possibly be wrong with that picture perfect scenario?

Pairing - Satosugu x ! Female ! Reader

Warning(s) - mature themes

Word Count - 0.7k

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

"'Toru? What are you still doing up?"  

The sitting man jolts, his eyes flickering to you, their bright hue dimming as you cautiously enter the living room, draped in one of his shirts. His legs spread, palms patting once, twice against his thigh in a silent invitation for you – one that you accept without hesitation.  

Your head tucks into the crook of Satoru's neck, nose inhaling his scent and committing it to memory – a pleasant mixture of sandalwood and the Earth. To you, it was comfort, it was a reminder of the home that you had built with him and Suguru.  

"The stars are nice tonight, aren't they?" Satoru comments, his arms looping around your waist, holding you against him and tilting his head to rest his cheek against your hair. You hum against him, eyes flickering to the window.  

Painted against the inky black sky are the stars that you and Satoru often watched together, laid out on a blanket on the front lawn and pointing up at them as if you had never seen them before. It was always cold during those nights, which usually resulted in Satoru tugging you against his chest, your body molding against his like a perfect little puzzle piece.  

You two would lay there for hours, simply basking in the other's presence and staring up at the flickering yellow lights that adorned the sky. Both of your trances were only broken by Suguru's softened voice, scolding you both for being out so late and commenting how you would both likely be sick by morning.  

Only then would Satoru roll up the blanket, helping you stand with gentle hands and allowing you to make your way back to the front door first. Softened aquamarine eyes watch as you beeline for Suguru's opened arms, hugging the raven-haired man and smiling brightly as gentle kisses are laid out over your face.  

"Yeah, they're nice," you mutter offhandedly, biting back the yawn that claws up your throat. Your nose scrunches up, an action that Satoru once teased you for – though he stopped once he received a loving smack from Suguru, one paired with a gentle scolding.  

Satoru hums, his eyes fluttering shut at the warmth that radiates from your body. Your breathing had deepened significantly, a telltale sign that you had fallen asleep against him – likely lulled by the gentle thump of his heart and the even rise and fall of his chest.  

He tilts his head, pressing a gentle kiss against the crown of your head and looping his arms underneath you, lifting you against his chest and standing from the armchair. He couldn't have his darling wife sleep in such an uncomfortable position – you deserved much better than that.  

Satoru walks silently to your bedroom, closing the door with his foot and gently laying you down in the sheets, tugging them around you and smiling gently as you adjust yourself. A content sight falls from your nose, cheek smushed against your pillow as you doze.  

He climbs in beside you, tucking you against his chest and tangling his legs with your own. He blinks once, twice...then allows his tired eyes to finally close, welcoming sleep as it beckons to him with softened hands – hands that felt oddly similar to your own. 

And somewhere across the way, resting on numbed legs and rubbing together cold hands, another pair of eyes watches the stars as they glitter in the night sky. He thinks back to a time where he would have enjoyed the stars – maybe even admired their bright yellow hue.  

But that time is not now, and it is a time that he knows he can never go back to – not after what was said and what was done. Besides, he knew it was for the better. His departure from a domestic life was challenging...he had lost count of the tears that he had shed.  

Tonight was one of those nights where he longed for the warmth of a bed, he longed for those two familiar bodies pressed against his own. He longed for the mornings where he would only half-listen to Frank Sinatra and watch as breakfast was prepared for him. He longed for the two people who had shown him endless care and support...but those two people were nothing but a pained memory.  

Tilting his head up at the stars and at the crescent moon, shaky lips turn upward in a smile – one accompanied by salty tears that drip down his cheeks. His mind flashes images of those he longed for; one with snowy-white hair and the other with the kindest smile.  

"The stars are nice tonight, aren't they?" Suguru mutters to himself, hoping that somehow – someway – maybe you and Satoru would hear him. 

[yuuzuforia]

dan heng dan heng dan heng—nothing in the brain but the damn guy that has male living space in the fucking archives!! nothing in the brain but his cold dragon young ass crushing on you!!

dan heng that probably knows you like that back of his hand, i shit you NOT he knows what you like, what you don’t like—the moment you start talking about it, he’s memorized it and stored it in his brain. flowers? he knows exactly what kind and what color. food? he knows what you like and find disgusting.

dan heng who is kinda (he hates to admit it) enjoys the attention you give him. he ain’t slick with that way he’s hiding that blush when you tell him “that’s so interesting! you gotta tell me more!” even when he pardons himself because he catches himself rambling, and you urge him to continue?? fuck, he’s floored.

dan heng who enjoys small acts of skinship. especially when he likes you, alot. the gentle tug of his hand when you both are in belabog as you both navigate through the streets to find a place to sit down. or his steady hold on your hand as you make the warps/jumps in the astral express traveling. if he knows you get scared easily, he’ll let you hold his hand throughout the wrap until you let go. you once gave him a pat on the shoulder with a big smile and saying “nice one, dan heng!” and he never forgot how happy he felt after that. the praise made him happy for the whole day it was obvious.

i am a firm believer of pinky linking with dan heng idc what you tell me. PINKY LINKING WITH DAN HENG.

dan heng, who is jealous! especially when other people show clear cut interest in you as a partner. he’s slightly pouty and grumbles but only in private ;> he’d rather get swallowed by the earth than telling you he feels…jealous because he wants your gaze on him, just him.

dan heng who is, despite it all, terrified of telling you how he feels :( his past, his burdens and worries—all of it goes away when you’re both together but how long could that last? and the idea of you…being bothered by his worries and past scares him. he knows he wants to trust you but he is scared. scared that, once you find out—things will never be the same and that everything would be terrifyingly different and that the trust you developed in him would be broken. one day, he’ll tell you all about it but for now—he wishes to enjoy the innocent smile free from the troubles he’ll face.

—after all, all of this is going to be future dan heng’s problem ( ´∀｀) not his!

[sweetchildcloud]

the fic ahead is only for 18+ minors!! do not interact !!!

||Hold me like my life depends on it 💙💔 ||wrote by me

Cw:SH,depression,cussing,suicide mention,scars,body dysphoria.

GojoXreader,fluff,suicide comfort,affirmations,kisses.

POV:Reader is cutting themselves on the sink and Gojo comes back after grocery shopping

Sorry I'm not English native so i apologized for some grammatical mistakes/errors

You can read this while listening to this,you're welcome

~~~~~~~~~💙~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~💔~~~~~~~~~

*When Gojo gets back to the apartment and walks in, the scene that meets him makes his heart sink into his stomach. He freezes in place, and can't believe what he's watching... But he had a feeling it would be something like this.*

"y/n..." He whispers, feeling absolutely broken himself. He knew you had a tendency to self-harm but he hadn't thought it would be to this extent. He doesn't realize it but he's not breathing and is still standing in the doorway of the bathroom door.

“S-Stop... You have to stop!” He finally finds the strength to move and rushes over to you, grabbing your arm. “Jesus Christ... Are you crazy?” His tone is sharp, and he realizes he may be making things worse with the way he's talking to you. Even while speaking he realizes he might be scaring you even more than you already are. “I told you not to do this anymore…” Satoru says, his voice now gentle, filled with fear. The last thing he wants is to have you in such a state that could be fatal. But at the same time a part of him just wants you to stop hurting yourself like that, but can’t help but wonder how many times you’ve done this. How many times your wrists are cut up already, which is why you always insist on wearing long sleeves, even during the middle of summer.

Satoru is surprised by your reaction, and while he expected you to be emotional, he hadn't expected you to burst into tears and start sobbing. He holds you tight to stop you from slipping down, and rubs your back gently while patting your head. "Shh..." He whispers, his tone calm and soothing. It's a nice change from his usual loud voice. "Shh... It's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I've got you."

"Shhh... It's okay, It's okay...." Satoru says, rocking you back and forth, pressing you into his body. The tears roll down his face, and it breaks his heart to see you in this state. "Just let it all out. I'm here, it's me, it's just me. I'm here for you." His arms wrap around you, protecting you from the entire world. He feels like he's going to burst into tears himself as he hugs you feeling just as broken as you are.

“Shhh...” He strokes your back and whispers, leaning in so that you're almost touching foreheads. He hugs you so tightly like that it feels he will protect you from everything. It kills him just how desperate you look. You're crying so much, you're shaking, your voice is breaking from how hard you're bawling. He just wants to hold you like this as tightly as possible, he can feel how hot your tears are on his shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay…”

For someone that acts so cold sometimes, he’s surprisingly caring right now. He’s doing his best to get you to calm down, speaking reassuringly, but deep down he can’t help but be scared to death at what he saw.

Satoru pulls you more close to him, wrapping your body against his as he holds you gently. He continues shushing you, speaking to you as softly as he can. The fact that you're crying in his arms like this... He can’t stand to see you like this. "It’s okay... Come on, come on. Please... shhhh..." He croons, rocking you a little.

you're body trembled as Gojo touched your old scars “Shhh... It’s me, it’s just me...” Satoru’s voice is gentle and soothing, his caress is meant to help you realize that it’s safe. He caresses your scars gently and then kisses your cheek, reassuring you that he’s with you. He wants the world to go away for just a bit. He wants you to feel at home in his arms and to comfort you to the point you won’t do this to yourself again.

“it doesnt matter what you think about your body…” Gojo whispers in your ear. His voice is soft but also stern and protective. “You are beautiful; to me at least... All those scars, you’re still so gorgeous… I want you to know that… You need to see that about yourself too…”

"But I'm fat" you replied whimpering pinching your stomach "I'm ugly"

Satoru shakes his head firmly. "No, you aren't. You really aren't..." He pulls away from you a little bit, just enough for him to look deep into your eyes and force you to make eye contact with him. "I mean, you *are* chubby. I'm not going to sugarcoat it… But your curves are attractive. I love squeezing them and having them right here in my arms... I think you're beautiful."

"But I am-" "No. you’re not." Gojo cuts you off immediately "that’s just more of you to love...” He holds you tighter against him, looking deeply into your eyes. He needs to see that you know that the way you see yourself, the way that you think you are… that it just isn’t true. You’re wonderful, precious, a little broken, but still precious.

"T..then why do you love me?" "...why I love you?" He repeats to himself, as if the thought had never crossed his mind before. A smile spreads across his face, making him genuinely look happy at the realization. "It's just... You know..." He pauses to think again how he wants to answer. He doesn't want to screw this up. "It's just because... You're you... There's no one like you and there'll never be anyone else like you ever again."

You weren't used to such kinds words such care from a person that you sobbed your last tears before falling asleep from exhaustion on Gojo lap,you're breathing is soft and slow.

Satoru hugs you tightly, not wanting to let you go for even a second. Your body is warm, your soft breathing and gentle snores filling him with such ease. When you finally fall asleep he slowly and gently moves you into his bed and covers you with a blanket, getting into bed with you and holding you close.

Your body is so delicate, so soft and so precious. He could never let anything happen to you. He needs to be next to you as much and as often as possible, the thought of you not being near sends chills down his spine.

He holds you close as you sleep, running his fingers slowly through your hair. He watches your features, your expressions, the peaceful, serene, and relaxed sleep.

There's something about looking at you like this that just melts all his worries away. You're just so peaceful, so fragile. Like a small flower. His eyes flicker with a hint of affection. The feeling he's having right now, this is the first time he's had this emotion in a long time.

You both fall asleep hugging each other tightly. You're still in Gojo's arms, which is a safe and secure place. Your breathing is slow and steady. There's a peacefulness and comfort to the whole situation, that makes the both of you drift off into a sleep as peaceful as possible. Satoru's breathing matches yours as you both sleep, he won't move an inch for the entire night.

~~~~~~~~~💙~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~💖~~~~~~~~~

Me while writing this:

Sorry 4 the long writing but I felt like writing it lol ,that's all folks tell me if u want more of my writing :)

[doctorgerth]

a/n: This one was so much fun to write!! Mihawk is always daunting to write for at first, but I always end up having fun and am usually pretty happy with the results when it comes to him. Want to know if Mihawk gets a smooch? Read on to find out! 🥰

pairing: Mihawk x GN!Reader

word count: 1.4k

candy heart prompt: True Love - Something on their/your lips

MIHAWK + TRUE LOVE

It was the first beautiful day Kuraigana had experienced in quite some time.

The thick fog that perpetually decorated the war-torn land was lifted, and the clouds above were broken enough to allow rays of warm, unfiltered sunshine illuminate the hidden beauty of the gloomy island.The lush greenery and produce the three of you had worked so hard to maintain practically sang in the light of the sun. Leaves glistened with dew, some reaching toward the rare blessing of light as if to grab it and hold onto it. It was a perfect day for farming.

“It’s such a beautiful day,” you sighed happily, stretching your arms out above you. Mihawk grinned from beside you, but you were too busy basking in the comforting warmth to notice.

“It is rather…bright,” Perona stated as she gripped her umbrella tighter.

Mihawk thought quietly to himself, determining that Perona’s discomfort might work to his advantage for once, “Perona, how about you go back to the castle and prepare some snacks. The weather is nice, maybe we can have a picnic.” He felt his heart squeeze in his chest when you smiled widely in his direction, your head nodding enthusiastically.

“Don’t order me around!” She huffed, though a reprieve from the too-bright sun sounded ideal. She turned the other direction and floated towards the castle.

“Oh, and don’t forget to pack something for the humandrills!” you called out to her.  

“What am I, everyone’s servant?” She stomped her foot in annoyance and puffed out her cheeks, “I’m too cute to be bossed around like this…”

When Perona was out of sight, you laughed to yourself, “She’s particularly moody today.”

Mihawk hummed beside you as he dropped some seeds into the earth, “And it’s only going to get worse.” He used a hand shovel to gently pat the dirt back over the seeds.

You peered over at him, “What do you mean?”

He laid the shovel down beside him and wiped his gloves along his dirt-stained pants. Retrieving a folded up newspaper page from his back pocket, he handed it over to you. Your eyes scanned the paper, the bold title Gecko Moria Alive! caught your eyes instantly. It was a strange sensation. You had no ties to Moria aside from his pink-haired subordinate, but still, for Perona’s sake, you felt warm tears well up in your eyes.

“Oh, Mihawk, she’s going to be so happy,” you said in a hushed whisper, though Perona was hardly in earshot, “And also really angry that you haven’t told her sooner. This newspaper is from three days ago.”

He chuckled, “I know.”

You felt a pang in your chest, “I suppose that’s another chick leaving the nest.” You were still recovering from Zoro’s departure and now Perona was soon to follow. You’d grown quite accustomed to your family you shared in the last two years. Though two years wasn’t a very long time comparatively, it felt like it’s always been the four of you.

“It’s for the best,” he replied, “Danger is coming.”

You stiffened, “You don’t mean…?”

“I believe the Reverie attendants are going to vote in favor of the abolishment of the Warlords. That means Marines will be surrounding this place very soon,” he sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t want Perona to get in harm's way for something that doesn’t involve her.”

You smiled in his direction, “You’re a kind man, Dracule Mihawk.” The tightness in your chest was easily replaced with gentle thumping. If anyone else were to refer to him as kind, he’d scoff in their direction. Hearing it from you, he felt a familiar heat creep up his neck.

Much like Zoro and Perona, Mihawk just ended up being stuck with you a few years ago. He warily offered his hospitality, but miraculously, it didn’t take long for Mihawk to warm up to you. When you proved yourself to him, you became the unofficial first mate to his unofficial crew. Though, with your time together on Kuraigana, you hardly acted as Captain and Crewmate. You tended the land together, sought peace with the humandrills together, and lived your day to day lives in the castle of Kuraigana together. Waking, working, and wasting the days away together. You weren’t sure what you were to Mihawk, but it definitely felt different than a mere subordinate.

“I suppose it’ll just be us again, then.” The thought of it going back to just the two of you simultaneously excited and saddened you. Mihawk looked over to you. He didn’t utter a single word, just stared. Though you’d assumed you’d be used to the intensity of his hawk-like eyes, they still had a way of making you feel embarrassingly shy. You absentmindedly wiped at the sweat forming on your upper lip. The sun was beginning to burn.

Just the two of you. Mihawk always loved the sound of that. Though he’d enjoyed his time training Zoro and cooking with Perona, he often thought fondly of when it was just the two of you. Why then did it make him so nervous to return to that? The dab of soil on your upper lip caught his attention and stole his thoughts.

You had mistaken his silent staring as a denial to your statement, “Unless you intend to send me away with Perona?” Your throat suddenly constricted. Surely he didn’t mean that. “Mihawk, I know things are about to get intense, but I promise I can protect myself and will help you with whatever you need. Just don’t…”

You stopped your sentence when Mihawk shifted beside you to turn and face you. His right hand reached up to your face and you waited with bated breath as you were unable to process what was happening. Mihawk’s never touched you like that before. You gasped when his finger swiped across your upper lip. Holy shit, he was going to kiss you. You instinctively closed your eyes and sighed against his finger, awaiting his lips to meet yours. A cool, empty breeze brushed against them instead.

“I’m sorry. You had dirt on your lip,” he said simply.

How embarrassing. You felt unbelievably hot under the small pockets of sunshine now, “Right, of course. Thank you.”

You wanted to leave his hold, leave the garden, leave the whole entire island, but Mihawk held you firmly; his left hand mirroring his right as they both caressed your face gently, “I’m not going to send you away, (Y/N). I want you by my side.” His face lowered to yours, noses brushing. The words he spoke stole your breath from your parted lips, “Stay with me as long as you wish.”

“Mihawk…” you managed to huff out. His name on your lips, so unfamiliar in this low tone — he could drink it right up. How long has he been holding himself back from falling completely into you?

“Say it, please,” he murmured. The movement of his lips caused them to bump against yours. A tease of a kiss, “Say you’ll stay with me.”

“Mihawk,” you whimpered once more. You weren’t sure you’d be able to say anything else. Not when his intoxicating warmth and tender embrace was robbing you of air. But, you wanted him to know how you felt. How you’ve always felt since joining his side, “I want to be with you forever.”

Your confession was the gravitational pull to at last close the distance between the two of you. His lips slotted against yours with promise, a silent oath to stay with you and protect you for however long you’d want him to. Your skin no longer burned, instead kissed by sunlight as his lips rained down on you, moving with yours as if he’s planned this moment out for years. In truth, he wished he’d done so much sooner.

You pulled away for air, but Mihawk wouldn’t, couldn’t stop. His lips tickled against your tender pulse line as he continued his kisses along your neck, pulling you tightly into him by your waist. He muttered confessions in-between kisses. How long he’s wanted you. How long he’s loved you. How long he’ll continue to want you. How long he’ll continue to love you. Forever, forever, forever. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him back up to your aching lips to let him know you reciprocated his devotion. Years of unchecked desire was evident in the urgency of your shared kisses, spilling forth like an endless fountain as you lost all sense of time against each other’s lips. Nothing would hold either of you back now.  

Perona rounded a corner and caught sight of the two of you embracing each other. She silently gagged, but decided to leave the both of you to your moment. The sun was a little too bright for her anyhow. As she turned and floated away, a smile stretched along her face. She always thought the two of you would be cute together.

a/n: Hate to see him go, but love to see him kissed 💋 We unfortunately say goodbye to Mihawk for this event, but I have a feeling we’ll see him around in the future. 🤭 Thanks for reading!! 

[intern-seraph]

hush my darling, don't fear my darling

After an incident in Alchemy, you flee to the Botanical Gardens to have a breakdown in private. Of course, things don't go quite as you expected — but that's not always a bad thing.

i started this fic when i was in a pretty shit place emotionally+self-esteem-wise. finished it in a similar state. so this is literally just leoyuu hurt/comfort bc i needed another clinically depressed person 2 cuddle me. intended as romantic, but can easily be read as platonic as well :) read beneath the cut!

Originally posted on Ao3

CWs: some gross medical metaphors, low self-esteem, nameless nrc students being nrc students (rude assholes)

You hate it when you get like this. After 5 overblots, you should be tougher. Tougher than this, tougher than breaking down over some stupid comment from an asshole classmate. But, well, you can’t really stop the tears once they start, so all you want to do right now is find an isolated place to hide and cry it out. Showing weakness in front of your classmates is a no-go. You’ve only recently managed to earn the rest of the school’s respect. That would put you back at square one.

“Why did the Headmage let a useless, magicless klutz like you in?”

It’s not even the meanest thing you’ve been called in your time here in Twisted Wonderland. But something about the venom in your classmate’s words as you sat sprawled out in a sea of broken glass just made you crack. You let Professor Crewel chew out the boy after helping you up and checking you for any injuries and fled the room. Ace and Deuce and Grim didn’t have any chance to follow you.

He ran into you! It wasn’t even your fault! You scold yourself again for taking his insult so personally, but that only brings you closer to the brink of tears. Angrily, you mash the heel of your palm into your eyes to get rid of the tears threatening to finally slip free. With your free hand, you reach out and open the door to the botanical garden. There’s nobody here at this time of day, not unless Professor Crewel needs someone to grab ingredients.

Well, nobody save for one person. But Leona is probably outside napping in a patch of sunlight (like the big kitty cat he is); at least, you hope he is. You don’t want him to see you like this. You don’t want him to see how pathetic you really are.

You duck under a mass of large, broad leaves. Your breath lodges in your chest, a hard lump of hurt that oozes out of you in quick bursts like fluid from a lanced cyst. Nobody’s here. You can cry now. The sobs you’ve been holding back make your body shake. Sharp, painful gulps of breath punctuate the thrum of your pulse in your ears. Clutching your uniform blouse, you fold in on yourself.

“... Hey, Herbivore.”

It sounds like you’re underwater. You move with the same sluggishness as you look up to meet Leona’s eyes. His face appears in blurry smears, though his frown manages to pierce through your tears.

“Oi. Hey. Quit crying,” he mutters, reaching out one hesitant hand while the other runs through his hair. “Look at me. Breathe.”

All you can do is wail even louder. He winces. Then, he seems to toss aside his reservations and touches your shoulder. In one sharp, jerky motion, you lurch into his arms. Leona hisses, but catches you nonetheless. Your trembling hands clutch at his vest as you cry into his chest.

“H-hey, whoa.” His hands fumble for only a moment before he wraps his arms around you more firmly. He pats your head with a distinct discomfort. “You’re getting snot all over me,” he says without malice. In one smooth motion, he scoops you up and cradles you like you’re made of porcelain. You let him carry you over to the shade of one of the larger plants and seat you on his lap. His touch grows more confident as he rubs your back and rocks you from side to side. “Breathe for me, Herbivore. Nice ‘n slow. I’ll do it with you, even. In… and out.”

You hiccup, but manage to mimic his slow, deep breaths. He scratches your scalp as a reward, the gentle scrape of his blunt nails helping to ground you.

“That’s better, yeah?” Without looking up, you nod. A slow sigh hisses through his teeth. “I hate seein’ you cry like that.”

“Sorry,” you mumble into his clothes.

“‘S not your fault. What the hell happened to make you cry like that?” He keeps scratching. You melt, sniffling but no longer sobbing. It takes a moment to put your thoughts together.

“It’s stupid.”

“So?”

“I-It’s really, really stupid. You’ll laugh.”

“Try me.”

You hesitate. With a slow, halting breath, you say, “There was an accident in Alchemy. One of my classmates yelled at me.” You don’t let him respond before you continue, “See? I told you it’s stupid.”

“An accident? Are you hurt?” Leona pushes you back so he can look you over. You bat at his hands and chest in protest.

“I’m not hurt! I swear! The only thing hurt is my pride…” You try to laugh, but it comes out as more of a croak. He scowls at you. “Don’t look at me like that!”

“You —” he yanks you into his chest, hand curling around the back of your head and keeping you firmly in place “— are such a pain in the ass. How about you let someone else worry about you for once in your life?”

“Didn’t think you cared.”

He scoffs. “Idiot,” he mutters as he squeezes you. “You’re part of my pride. ��Course I care.” A gentle rumble builds in his chest as he flops onto his back, bringing you with him. He buries his face in your hair, ignoring the way you squirm. “Quit moving.”

“Leona, I’m fine now!”

“So?” He rolls you both onto your sides. Peering over his shoulder, you can see his tail flick with contentment. “You interrupted my nap, so I’m keeping you until I’m done with this one. ‘Sides, aren’t you all tuckered out from all that crying?”

That kills any argument. Because you are tired. Exhausted, even. After all, you ran all the way here from the alchemy lab, and you cried so hard…

With a sigh, you relent and wriggle closer. You don’t miss his quiet, triumphant chuckle, nor the subtle press of his lips to your scalp. “Fine,” you mumble, “but only for an hour or two.”

“Sure, Herbivore.”

Several hours later, you wake up drenched in dew, but warm and safe in the arms of a slumbering lion.

[madebymal]

Our little family

Pairings: dad!Evan Buckley x mom!reader

Summary: your little family with Buck (might make this a series)

Warning: fluff, mentions of breastfeeding, I think that’s it

At only 36 weeks pregnant, your daughter decided to make an early appearance, while it shocked the both of you, you were both happy with your healthy, tiny, baby girl, Celia Reign Buckley, you were both scared of it being rough but she has been nothing but a calm baby, whenever she was hungry her cries were never that loud and she wouldn’t cry for hours, when breastfeeding her, she was always gentle, she was never too rough with you For the past 2 months

That was until a few weeks ago, she started fussing a lot, crying more often, crying louder then usual, and here you were, holding a crying baby in your arms

The sun hasn’t even gone up yet and your daughter was crying her eyes out, you and Buck tried everything, you tried feeding her, changing her, singing her a song, yet nothing calmed her down

“Buck seriously go sleep you have work in the morning” you said, practically whispering while rocking your baby as you were afraid that any loud noise would make Celia cry even louder

“I’m not sleeping until she’s passed out” he sighed, his head thrown back as he pinched the bridge of his nose “here, give her to me”

You gently passed Celia to Buck and sat next to him and laid your head on his shoulder, he rested her head on his other shoulder as he patted her back with his hand while his other arm was below her bum, holding her closer to him if possible as he was slowly drifting

He didn’t pay attention to her cries slowly turning into whimpers, you gently nudged his elbow to grab his attention, when he opened his eyes he noticed his daughter practically clinging to his shirt, the side of her face pressed up against his chest and her thumb inside her mouth, sucking on it as if it was her pacifier, you both smiled at the sight of her your hand came up to gently replaced her thumb with her pacifier and stroked her cheek with your thumb “she’s definitely going to have your personality”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He said while looking at you acting like he was offended

“I mean come on Buck, you literally cuddle me at any give time you have, I’m not surprised she got this from you, I’m just surprised she’s getting it now” he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at you while you quietly chuckled and laid you head on his shoulder once again as you started to drift off on the couch with the both of them next to you

——————

In the morning you were woken up to the smell of coffee, you realized that you were now laying down on the couch with your daughter on your chest still asleep, you kissed her forehead before gently sitting up and walking to the kitchen, still holding on to Celia

“Morning” your voice was still filled with sleep as you sat on one of the stools in the kitchen

Buck walked over to you with one cup of coffee in his hand and a glass of water in the other, placing them both down, he placed a kiss on your lips but was shortly interrupted as Celia started to stir and fuss “looks like someone’s waking up”

She shortly opened her eyes and it didn’t take long before she her soft cries filled the room, indicating that she was ready for her breakfast

Her cries didn’t last long as you adjusted her body against your breast so she could eat, kissing her tiny knuckles as she starting eating

“I called work and told them I won’t be able to come today and thought we could maybe spend the entire day together you know, just the three of us” Buck said, breaking the silence that was often broken by the sound of Celia eating

“That sound nice” a smile was plastered on your face as you looked at Buck, he nodded as he took one last sip of coffee, he placed the empty cup in the sink and kissing your lips one last time and kissing Celia’s forehead before sitting next to you on another stool

You both watch in awe as your daughter ate, her eyes were wide open, looking at the both of you with her blue eyes that get got from her father, her beautiful Y/C/H hair that was slowing growing on her head, she was a beautiful mix of the both of you and you couldn’t feel more proud about it

Proud of your little family

—————

A/n: I’m thinking of making this a series, and please since I’m new to writing, feedback would be amazing, I’m also creating a tags list if you wanna be apart of it <33

[tyunkus]

thoughts on soft dom beomie letting his s/o blow him ? only if ure comfy !! <3

also i really love your writing style its so good 😮‍💨

SOFT DOM BEOMIE <3 i feel like a broken record when it comes to writing about head because i think all men kinda just get brainless and droopy when someone sucks them off but STILL!!!! soft dom beomie + head means a lot of head pats.. running his fingers through your hair.. holding it back for you n letting you set the pace.. a lot of sweet, gentle compliments and instructions .. "slowly, baby, just like that... get it nice and wet, fuck, you're doing so well, mm, good job, pretty baby.." like even while he's losing his mind he WILL praise you and he always sounds like he really means it!!!! i think when some time has passed and you've been sucking him off for a while, he'll grip the side of your head a little more firmly and start moving you up and down on his cock Still gently but also very steadily.. loves the wet sounds of your mouth n how ur almost gagging for his cum. would also wipe his precum from the corner of your lips and then stick out his tongue to lick it,, he's so gentle and soft and nasty i love gyu so bad.

also thank u sm 😭!!! m so glad u enjoy my writing !!!

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

If He’s Got a Problem with You, He’s Got a Problem With Me.

TW: suggestion of domestic abuse, fighting, Wayne🤣💋 I do own the photo or the characters except the OC.❤️🎀 Enjoy!

She didn’t know where to go. She hadn’t known who to go to. Hiccups catch in her throat as another sob racks her small frame. Only back in letterkenny for an hour, her home town, the place she always ran when her heart was broken. This time it wasn’t just broken, she was scared.

Taking a deep breath, she raises her hand, and gives a soft rap on the door. Gnawing on her lip, she reaches up to knock again and the door cracks open a little and Katy’s sleepy face greets her with shock.

“Finna?” She asks softly, her voice a hoarse whisper. Clearing her throat she opens the door and waves her in.

“Hi, Katy.” She sniffles, tipping her head down and swiping her tears.

“You okay?”

“No.” She whimpers. Soft footfalls hit the stairs behind her and she turns to see Wayne standing at the foot of the stairs in his pajamas. He flips on the hall light and sees her face wet and puffy.

“Guppy, how are ya now?” He coos.

“Bad, ‘n you?” She hiccups.

“Well not so bad. Good to see ya, but not like this.” He babbles, pulling out a chair and offering her a seat.

“I’m sorry to wake you guys up. It’s just— I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” She whispers, glancing at Katy.

She and Katy had been best friends for their whole lives, and she always had a soft spot for Wayne. He was kind to her, and he always told her how nice she looked. There was a point in time when she doted on Wayne, when he the most handsome boy in Letterkenny to her. She and Katy were about three years younger than him, but she crushed hard on high school Wayne.

“Get her some blankets, Katy. She sleeps here tonight. I’ll deal with the rest of this tomorrow.” He announces, scooting away from the table heading to bed.

She and Wayne are the first two up.

“Morning, Guppy.” He smiles, hooking an arm around her shoulders.

“Morning, Wayne.” She replies, smiling slightly up at him as he looks down at her.

“You know if he’s got a problem with you he’s got a problem with me, and I suggest he lets that one marinate.” He threatens, his eyes searching hers for something and he finds something so soft and sad in hers. A couple of loud bangs echo from the front door and she screeches in fear, burrowing into Wayne’s strong arms. He hugs her tight to himself.

“I think he followed me.” She whispers, her voice quivering with every word. He holds her at arm’s length and gives her a gentle smile.

“I’ll be right back, yeah?” He assures, patting her shoulders. He goes to the door, opens it, and finds a scrawny man, gangly and rather ugly.

“Go away, Jared!” She cries, shoving at his chest.

“No! Who’s this guy?”

“What’s it matter?” She shouts back, shoving him again as he steps closer to Wayne.

“We get into one disagreement and you run to some other guy’s house?” He tells in her face. He reaches for her, his hand gripping her shoulder like a vice. A small whimper escapes her. She steels herself for the slap that follows, but it never does. When she opens her eyes, Wayne’s hand is around his throat, constricting his airway. Drawing back a heavy fist, Wayne hits him so hard the man drops to wooden porch with a low thud.

“We don’t hit pretty girls.” Wayne nips at the unconscious man, toeing him with his boot. “That wasn’t even a fight.” He laughs, “Let’s go get breakfast.” He offers, hooking his arm around her shoulders once more and heading inside.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” She asks, looking up at him for a moment. His cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

“I—“ she stops their walking. Wayne looks down at her, his eyes flick to her lips and he shifts from foot to foot. “Yeah. I think you’re really pretty, Guppy. And you deserve the whole world.” He offers, looking a his boots. When he glance at her, she’s dazing right back at him and he dips down, kissing her soft pink lips.

[yanderelionwrites]

Hairstyling - (Yandere!Nejire Hado x Reader)

A little Nejire drabble cuz we need more content of her 💙

Content Warning: yandere, implied kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, broken-in Darling

Word Count: 739

Nejire Hado yawned as she approached her home’s front door. Still dressed in her hero costume, she was so ready to crash on the couch and demand cuddles from the precious Darling that so dutifully waited for her to return home every day. Her batteries needed to be recharged and they were perfect for the job, after all. She opened the door with vigor, but soon became slightly disappointed at the fact that her honey had not come up to greet her. They had been doing it everyday so far, so what gives?

Upon walking further into her house though, Nejire understood the problem. There, on the couch, was you sleeping soundly. The periwinkle-haired hero practically cooed at the sight as she crouched down next to your face, forgetting why she was even annoyed in the first place.

Nejire poked your cheek and said, “Hey, hey, why are you sleeping on the couch? We have a bed for a reason, silly!”

You slowly stirred awake, hugging the pillow you had been holding closer to your chest. You cracked an eye open, peering up at your captor girlfriend. Mumbling, you said, “Mm…Nejire…welcome home.”

The hero patted your head and smiled. “Hey there, sleepyhead! Have a nice nap?” You nodded, sitting up so you could lean against the arm rest. “Good, because I want cuddles!”

Nejire lunged forward, capturing you in a bear hug as she nuzzled her cheek against yours. You laughed and tried to gently push her away, exclaiming, “Hey, wait a minute! At least change out of your costume first!”

She pouted, but reluctantly released you from her hold. She did as she was told, however, and was soon resting against your chest as you stroked her hair.

“Geez, Nejire, your hair’s a mess,” You snickered. “Rough day at work, I presume?”

She shook her head up and down and pressed herself further into your body, inhaling your scent.

“Want me to brush it for you? I could style it too if you-” The minute you made the offer, Nejire perked up, eyes twinkling.

“I thought you’d never ask!” She blurted, dashing off to find a hairbrush. When she returned, she sat down in between your legs and patiently waited for you to begin.

You grinned at her enthusiasm and began to carefully brush through the strands, making sure to be gentle when coming across a tangle. Nejire hummed while you worked, closing her eyes and enjoying the moment. She was glad that you were openly being affectionate with her. She remembers how just a few months ago, you were begging her to let you go. You refused to touch or even talk to her. But now, you’re doing much better and have settled into this new life. You don’t even know why you ever hated the idea of being here with her. Nejire couldn’t be happier!

“All done!” You stated, finishing the pigtail hairstyle you had chosen for her by tying the second one off. Running your fingers over her hair to smooth it down, it was now back to its soft and silky glory. She turned around and gave you a peck on the cheek, a wide smile on her face. 

“Thanks so much, sweet pea! You’re the best!” Nejire vouched. Then clapping her hands together, she suggested, “Hey, I know! Why don’t I style your hair too? We can be matching! Isn’t that such a great idea?”

A smile grew on your face as well and you agreed. The two of you switched places, and you visibly relaxed when the brush scratched your scalp in just the right way. It was better like this; not having to fight and accepting Nejire’s love for what it is. Besides, this situation could be so much worse. You should be grateful for her.

You felt her tie your hair into place, tapping your shoulder to let you know she was done. Once you turned back to her, she gave you another kiss, this time on the nose. She dragged you over to a nearby mirror and squeezed you against her as the both of you looked into your reflections.

“We’re so cute together! Don’t you agree?” She asked, resting her head against your shoulder as she squeezed your hand just a little too tight.

You stared into the mirror, contemplatively. Her grin was infectious as it spread to your own expression. You nodded.

Yeah…it was better this way.

[specialagentlokitty]

Neytiri x reader - with you

Neytiri x platonic reader who is part of the tribe, quiet and struggles with depression, and Neytiri becomes like a gentle older sister to them and always helps them when their depression gets really bad? - Anon💜

A/N: na’vi will in italics

Neytiri was always right by your side, every since the pair of you were kids you were used to here being there with you she was like a sister to you.

When she met Jake that changed, she was tasked with helping him learn your ways and you hardly saw her.

With tensions rising between you and the sky people you were getting stressed, you were getting worried and concerned and you mental health was starting to decline.

Sitting on one of the branches of the trees you looked down and the people enjoying a nice dinner.

“Why are you not with them?”

“Tsu’tey, what brings you up here?”

He shrugged a little and sat down with you, looking down at everyone and you saw his eyes glued to hale.

You knew he was jealous, he loved Neytiri, he was supposed to be mated to her.

“Jealously will never lead you anywhere.”

You scoffed a little and shook his head as he wrapped his arms around his legs.

“I don’t even see why she trusts him…”

You shrugged a little and sighed, looking around.

Everything was overwhelming, the noise, the people, the smells, everything was getting too much for you and you didn’t know what to do.

You loved your tribe, your people, of course you did, but you couldn’t stand to be there anymore.

“I’m going for a fly.”

You left and took to the skies, you didn’t know where you were going, but apparently your thoughts and your link go Skyfire did, because you soon found yourself at the tree of souls.

Jumping down from the flying beast, you gently pat her neck.

“Go, I’ll call.”

She let out a small noise but took off in flight again and you walked over to the tree, sitting right under the tree body.

You gently brushed your fingers through the white tendrils of the tree, listening to the voices whispering.

Closing your eyes, you focused on them, blurring out the ones you couldn’t recognise until you could hear what you were looking for.

You stayed listening to the voices, the laughing, the cheering. You stayed like that, a small smile on your face.

Neytiri was looking for you, she wanted to go running with you but as she searched all your hiding placed you were nowhere to be found.

“They left.”

Neytiri turned to Tsu’tey who was walking over.

“Left? When?”

“About an hour ago, said they wanted to go for a flight. They didn’t seem to be doing so well, you should find them.”

Neytiri quickly nodded her head and turned to Jake before turning back to Tsu’tey.

“Watch him?”

Tsu’tey nodded his head and Neytiri whistled.

There was only one place you would go and she knew exactly where to find you.

She was right, when she approached the tree she found you sitting under it, legs crossed, eyes closed and the ghost of a smile on your face.

Patting her banshee she jumped down and slowly made her way over, crouching in front of you making you open your eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head and turned away from her and she sighed.

Neytiri reached out, taking your hands in hers as she held them softly.

“They are still with you, with Eywa, waiting for you to come home.”

“They shouldn’t… they shouldn’t be with Eywa Neytiri! I know Eywa looks after them, treats them well… but I need them..”

Your voice cracked and Neytiri quickly pulled you in for a hug, holding you against her as tears fell from your eyes as you cried.

Nothing had been the same since that day, since that day the sky people took your family away from you just because your younger brother accidentally got to close.

They took everything you had, and you had never been able to recover.

Neytiri knew you weren’t angry, you didn’t have it in you to be angry and to hate another living soul.

You were broken.

Empty.

“I do not want to be here Neytiri…”

She quickly pulled away, placing her hand on the side of your face.

“Don’t say such things sister, I know it is hard. But you must live a full life for them, and when you return to Eywa they shall be waiting with open arms.”

You simply nodded, leaning into her touch and she smiled a little, placing her forehead against yours.

“You will always be my family (Y/N), okay? Even if yours no longer walk among us, they are with us in spirit, in heart.”

You nodded your head again, and opened your eyes, titling your head to look at the tree of souls.

“Eywa let’s me hear them.”

“She knows you need to, she knows what troubles your heart and wants to help.”

You looked at Neytiri.

“They will be born again?”

Neytiri nodded.

“Yes, they will. Perhaps they already have.”

You knew it was unlikely they would be born again, your parents had already been born twice, but your younger brother hadn’t.

You desperately wanted to see in again, see his face and hear his laugh.

You turned to Neytiri. The sister you never had.

“Remember what we said?” She whispered.

“We will live and die together, by each others side. As family.”

“Exactly.” She smiled.

Neytiri shuffled over, resting her back against the tree as well, letting you rest your head on her shoulder.

She didn’t know what it was like to loose her family, she still had them, so all she could do was be there for you, be your sword and shield. Protect you from the world.

You grew up together, you grieved together when your family were taken.

There was a darkness that surrounded you, but you still had a pure heart, Neytiri knew that, the tribe knew that, and Eywa knew that.

She just prayed one day you would get better, she would hear your laugh again and see you smile like you did before everything.

She was going to do everything in her power to help you, if you asked her too she would wage a war against the sky people.

If you asked her yoi she would run away with you.

She was your sister, and she was the only thing you had left in this world so she had to protect you

[omies-odd-writing-spot]

I.... couldn't sleep this morning so.... -flinging cute and runs away-

@raventroll80

Bonus:

It was amazing what a few minutes of calm quiet could do for the confidence of the young. As well as slight boredom.

Nothing bad had happened, or seemed to be about to happen. Heather felt brave enough to set her shielding easter bunny down in her own lap before looking around in the one she was sitting in. The girl was balanced on this big mountain’s left thigh, and her slippers could just pap-pap on his right leg. The big mountain person needed a bath, he smelled weird and like metal, or copper, and dirt.

But then again he had been tossed to the ground by a bad monster, so Heather could and did forgive him. She has not had a bath yet since her mom left looking for the boat.

Heather wondered if this mountain was tired from playing with the monsters outside, and that was why he was not moving. That was okay, he could rest in the basement bunker if he wanted! It was a nice safe place to rest and even sleep safely! Heather paused and looked over at the spot with the now broken window under the curtain. Well… it was safe? But then there did not seem to be any more of those vibrations or that warning tingle of the monsters made.

She watched one of those massive hands coming back. There was no hurt, the big hand was gentle even as he touched one of her legs. Heather could put her foot on a finger pad.

Had this mountain person, man…. mountain guard? What was the right name… other… not human but the other….other…

He was as big as a mountain, hopefully he could forgive Heather for not knowing what the right word was. She looked up, barely able to see past the board, massive chest. Then looked back at the big fingers under her legs, but she was not picked up. Heather leaned forward and tried to catch his thumb again as the big hand was starting to move away.

It was a curious, quiet moment. Heather was amazed she could pull the big hand closer. Inspecting it back as she gently touched the metal of the big glove, then one of his big claws. It did not seem like metal, being both apart of and not apart of the glove. Heather's whole hand could spread not only over the back of the claw, but over his finger pad too.

He was a mountain guard-person!

But a nice one, Heather decided. She knew just enough there were nice mountain people and not nice ones. Just like humans. She looked up again, then rested her easter bunny on the big hand, feeling a surprised humming that vibrated out of the mountain. He seemed to like her bunny and as long as it was not taken Heather was willing to share for a bit.

She shifted and then climbed up to stand in the mountain's lap. Grasping tight to the armor on his front to get a better look at the head and face. Watching him back just as intently as he had fist watched Heather in the hidey-hole. Studying the face before reaching up in the fearless, or just senseless way of the young. As far as Heather knew this mountain was safe, and she was just realizing that he did not have stripes on his face.

Her little hand touched, then patted the big chin as green eyes blinked again. Only really able to reach because she stretched, and the mountain seemed to be sitting with a big hunch. Was his back okay?

The bigger head was lowering a bit more, and his eyes seemed bigger. The mountain was slowly shifting but did not seem to mind her patting his cheek where the scarring stripes. The marks raised a bit and the skin was warm but thick it seemed. Warm air was huffed down at Heather as she was just able touched the thick stripy sca over the bridge of his nose. The mountain finally moved a little, Heather looking back as one of those massive hands were moving behind her. Half holding, half bracing but stable enough that the girl leaned into his hand to free up both of hers and feel stable.

Big mountain! Heather signed to the bigger then big person. Smiling now as she kept signing, even if he might not know. Nice mountain. I like you.