#even down to the violence and scare tactics

[yueebby]

2 + 1 — gojo satoru

synopsis. two times megumi thinks gojo is a lost cause and one time he approves of the white haired idiot

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, ooc, misogyny (from the clan heads), he is so pathetic for his wife (nauseating!), slight yandere behavior, violence, in megumi’s pov, not proofread eep

notes. can you tell i've been obsessed with the apothecary diaries? >< also how long has it been since i've posted a fic? anyways... enjoy!

fushiguro megumi has always wondered how that blue eyed idiot managed to marry you. he must have resorted to underhanded tactics; or at least that's what the sea urchin suspects. though he's never voiced it, the question has bothered him since the day he first encountered the both of you.

nobara clicks her tongue. “this is borderline creepy.” her orange eyes are filled with nothing short of distaste.

“there’s more too,” megumi’s voice responded, carefully flipping the page. the delicate artifact in his hand is something that he should have not touched. perhaps he should have wrapped it with a talisman and destroyed it while he had the chance.

it was too late for that anyway, because not even a second later, gojo satoru bursts through the shoji doors of the classroom. 

with eyes blown wide as if they were caught committing a crime (they were), the first years who had pulled three seats up to a singular desk stare at him. satoru's eyes widen behind his blindfold as he catches sight of the object of their focus.

there lies in the middle of the wooden desk was the physics textbook that all first year jujutsu tech students were required to read. however, this wasn’t just any plain old textbook. it was gojo satoru’s former textbook. brimmed with doodles of their beloved [name] sensei and gojo himself when they were back in highschool.

any free space that was not filled with words were taken up by drawings of you inside of hearts and sometimes a depiction of a chibi version of the two of you.

a true testament to gojo satoru’s pining and devotion to you.

“sensei, we can explain–” yuji attempts to explain himself but gojo holds up a hand to silence the boy. 

unlike you, megumi finds it a lot more challenging to read the white haired sorcerer’s expression with the blindfold on. he wonders if his punishment will be a painful beating disguised as a sparring session (megumi will run to you, who will scare gojo into backing down). you have that effect on him.

it seems like the heavens have answered megumi’s prayers because gojo satoru doesn’t seem to harbor any anger at his shocking revelation.

“i can’t believe you guys found this old thing.” satoru dismisses his students’ personal space by leaning closely to observe the pages. the black haired boy makes a noise of disapproval, but was quickly cut off by his benefactor. “megumi, be grateful that i’m in a good mood today.” he doesn’t elaborate the ominous message, rather choosing to hum happily as he studies his own drawings.

megumi is smart enough to keep his mouth shut. 

“i never took you to be the pathetic type,” kugisaki continues to flip through the pages of the textbook. yuji nods furiously, as if to agree to her observation.

“you seriously never noticed?” megumi mutters under his breath.

gojo places a strong hand on megumi’s back, a languid smile on his face, “it was only natural, considering the lengths i had to go through to win her over.” he ignores the way megumi gasps for air.

“seriously?” itadori asks in disbelief.

“seriously.” gojo confirms wholeheartedly.

megumi shudders, recollecting memories of times before gojo tied you down for good.

2009

“sorry i’m late!” gojo bursts through the dingy apartment door with a convenience store bag in his arm. he was breathing heavily, an indication that he had run to the apartment. an uninterested seven year old megumi doesn’t bother leaving his place on the couch to greet his benefactor.

“they’re in the kitchen,” he says in his monotone voice, eyes never leaving the book that you had just gifted him.

“they?” gojo walks up to megumi to ruffle his hair aggressively. he receives a hiss in return.

“tsumiki and [name]?” the black haired kid says it like it was obvious. his sentence is accompanied with an eyeroll.

at the mention of your name, gojo immediately perks up. megumi imagines that if he were a cat, his ears would be swiveling and his nose twitching, attuned to pick up any trace of your presence. he had just learned that from the nonfiction book in his lap. 

“[name]?! here? now?” gojo’s eyebrows are raised all the way to his forehead. the white haired sorcerer immediately started fixing his uniform and hair. megumi thinks it was comical. he was a lost cause.

the snarky look on his face is quickly wiped off when he sees gojo leaning down, mouth wide open.

“oi brat, check my breath,” gojo opens his mouth wide for megumi to check. the black haired kid shrivels up into the couch the further gojo leans down. megumi considers summoning his newly discovered jujutsu technique, hoping to avoid his fate.

“—toru? what are you doing?” your voice, like a divine intervention, stops gojo from sending megumi to the depths of despair. a sigh of relief escapes his lips.

now it was his turn to watch gojo squirm. the older male’s face contorts to an awkward smile and all of a sudden gojo is reduced to nothing but a mess.

“don’t worry about it darling!” gojo slowly turns around to face you. “agh—?!”

megumi has to peek around satoru’s big frame to see what elicited such a response from the man.

he’s met with a wave of underwhelming familiarity. there you stand, clad in a frilly apron with a wooden spoon in hand, the essence of domesticity incarnate. the soft glow of the warm kitchen lights dances around you, casting a warm aura that seems to envelop the room.

“welcome home, satoru.” you give him your signature closed eye smile. “i mean, you probably don’t consider it your home but—“

you’re cut off by satoru banging his head on the nearest wall repeatedly. he’s muttering something under his breath that you don’t hear.

to his dismay, megumi's keen ears catch every syllable. satoru's voice, though hushed, carries a hint of longing, "what an angel," he whispers, his words laced with adoration. "just marry me already."

unamused, he watches while you try to desperately pry gojo from his strange outburst.

a lost cause indeed.

2009

in that very year, megumi learns that gojo’s efforts to win your affection had yielded no progress. it had become increasingly apparent that his frequent visits to megumi and tsumiki's humble home were motivated to immerse himself in the semblance of domesticity that your presence offered. megumi almost pitied the man, if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew you deserve someone more sensible.

me

[name]

[nameeeee]

i’m dying.

and it’s your fault t^t

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

excuse me?

me

i’ll have you know that i worked the hardest that i have ever worked to finish all of my paperwork so i could see you tonight… only to find out from megumi that you’re on a date?!!?

i feel like my chest is caving in. 

i’m going to throw up.

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

oh this is what you’re interrupting my date for?

me

i’m going to be sick.

please tell me, is he hotter than me? wealthier? funnier?

megumi quickly looks away from gojo’s phone screen when the white haired male slams it shut and mutters under his breath a couple of curses. he’s pretty sure half of them were death threats.  honestly, couldn't you have attracted someone with more dignity?

“change of plans,” gojo claps his hands together. “movie night’s off.”

“what?” megumi protests, confusion etched in his features.

“our beloved [name] is getting swept off of her feet. you wouldn’t want that to happen, right?” gojo continues, his tone light but his gaze sharp as it bores into megumi's soul. something unpleasant coils in the pit of his stomach.

megumi feels a chill run down his spine, his mind racing with the implications of gojo's words. if you choose to date this new guy, he realizes, you won't need him or gojo anymore. and that thought terrifies him. it pains megumi to feed into gojo's delusions.

but he can’t let this unnamed suitor steal you away.

a wolfish grin makes its way to gojo’s mouth when he realizes that he’s won.

“what's the plan?”

2016

it was only years later that megumi had seen the true monster that lurks inside of gojo satoru. 

on a hot summer evening, amidst a gathering of esteemed clan heads, he and satoru found themselves in a traditional chamber. while the finer details of the meeting escape his memory, the image of the room that altered his perception of gojo satoru is etched in his mind indefinitely. the wooden walls, adorned with subtle yet elegant designs, speak volumes about the room’s significance as a venue for the most influential members of jujutsu society.

throughout the meeting, he finds himself driving in and out of focus, content to let his mentor represent the gojo clan. however, his attention is abruptly seized by a particular remark that cuts through the haze of his thoughts.

“how’s that whore of yours, gojo?” a clan head jeered, clearly drunk on the sake that was constantly refilled by the servant on the side. his flushed complexion is scarcely discernible thanks to the dim glow emanating from the few lanterns scattered around the room. 

there was only one person he could have been referring to: you. underneath the wooden table, his fingers tightened painfully into fists. pretentious bastards, megumi thinks.

another geezer rubbed his beard thoughtfully, “she has a nice body. perfect to be a concubine, but i would marry a more submissive woman.”

megumi's gaze stealthily darts towards gojo, seated beside him.

he’s startled to find the white-haired man wears a wide grin that belies a hidden truth. unseen by the elders before them, lurking beneath gojo's outward expression, is a manic gleam in his eyes—a revelation that sends a shiver down megumi's spine.

“i’d hold my tongue if i were you.” gojo satoru’s voice was dripping with venom. he sounded downright murderous.

"i'm right, am i not? we can share her if you'd like- name the price." the drunkard continues loudly.

megumi senses an instinctive wave of primal dread washing over him, compelling him with an urgent, almost instinctual need to flee or die.

before he can move a muscle, the flames that surround the room flicker before extinguishing in succession by an unknown force. the metallic stench of blood fills the air and all he can hear is the sound of flesh mutilating and bones crushing accompanied by the painful shouts of the men that once sat in front of him. he doesn’t have to see it with his own eyes to be able to sense gojo’s strong curse residue that suffocates the room.

“stand up megumi. we’re leaving.” his voice carries a feral edge, leaving no room for objection.

on their way out of the compound, the two don’t utter a word at what had just transpired. 

megumi's gaze remains fixed on the ground beneath his feet, the images of the recent events swirling in his mind, leaving him unsettled and shaken. with each step, he grapples with the unsettling realization that beneath gojo satoru's charismatic facade lies a darker, more sinister nature.

the strongest sorcerer of today, riled up by the mere mention of your name.

megumi supposes he doesn’t feel much remorse for those clan heads anyway. he was never the type to mourn over people he didn’t know dying. especially not people who he knew would live on to do evil. it doesn’t help that they were blatantly disrespecting you. perhaps he could sympathize with the monster inside of gojo.

oblivious to the turmoil that stirs inside of megumi, gojo starts to smile.

“i know what you’re going to say,” gojo hums happily. “gojo sensei, you’re so cool! i approve of you marrying my beloved [name]! kyaa~’” he makes a pathetic attempt to imitate megumi. 

the black haired boy grunts. he was going to say something along the lines of his approval for his benefactor, but all desires of flattering the white haired sorcerer disappeared.

gojo watches the black haired boy intently before tutting.

“not that it matters.” megumi is startled to hear how his voice dropped an octave. “i was always going to marry [name] and i’ll be damned to let anyone stop me.” 

2018 – present day

after satiating his students with tales from his pining days, your husband comes home often clingier than normal (is that even possible?). the moment satoru enters your home, his arms envelop you, caging you in his hold.

you can't help but giggle as his hair brushes against the side of your neck, his embrace pulling you in close, as if he's inhaling your presence.  his muscles flex when you attempt to slip away, keeping you in his tight embrace.

“sato– what is going on?!” 

“is it a crime to show my wife some love?” he kisses your neck. when his flurry of kisses stop, he resorts to absorbing all of your features with those cerulean eyes of his.

you don’t bother pushing him away again, choosing to thread your fingers through his soft hair. even after all these years, you will never not feel the effect of satoru’s eyes on you.

“i was telling my first years about you today,” he says softly.

you smile, “is that so?”

he pushes his nose into your neck again, nodding.

“you’re so good to them,” you whisper. despite the initial shock behind satoru choosing to pursue education, you’re extremely proud of how far he’s come.

“mhm,” satoru inhales. “i’d be good to our little ones too.” one of his hands sneak to your stomach.

you delicately guide his face away from your form, your fingers tenderly urging him to meet your gaze. "is there something you want to tell me?" you inquire softly, your eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.

satoru's smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "perhaps," he murmurs, his touch light as he guides you towards the bedroom. without hesitation, you yield to his lead, eager at his sudden intimate gesture.

from outside your home, three first year students stand, waiting for their sensei’s cue to enter.

“do you think he’s forgotten about us?” yuji furrows his eyebrows, hands full of grocery bags that were going to be prepared for dinner.

extra notes. had the idea of gojo and megumi crashing your date in my drafts for so long. maybe ill elaborate on it if the ppl want to see :,)

[viking-raider]

Syverson Family War

Summary-> You've just gotten off a 12-hour shift at the hospital, only to return home and get swept up into a Syverson Family War, between your husband and three children.

Pairing-> Austin "Sy" Syverson/Reader

Word Count-> 3.2k

Warnings-> PG: FLUFF, Cotton Candy Fluff, Light Teasing, Soft!Sy, SAHD!Sy, Nurse!Reader

Inspiration-> This Instagram Video (If this isn't Sy vibes, idk who Sy is!)

Author’s Note-> This is a work of Fiction!

Divider by->  @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

You were more than excited to be home after a nearly twelve hour shift at the hospital. Your back throbbed and your feet were screaming at the top of their arches from running up and down the ER department. You didn’t even bother gathering up your tote of stuff, as you got out of your car, since you had the next two days off. So, they would wait until a two hour long bubble bath and a nap with eternity.

But upon entering your modest, two story Ranch house, you were bombarded by silence. Your eyes narrowed as they scanned the dining room to your left and living room to your right, ears pricking up for the slightest movement from the bedrooms upstairs.

Something was clearly off. It was almost never this quiet in the Syverson household.

There was always some sort of ruckus or chaos in motion. Your husband blasting music in the garage, where he had set up a small work-out area or telling off whatever game was playing on the enormous tv in the living room. If it wasn’t Sy, it was a combination of your three kids. Your two boys wrestling each other over a toy or giggles, or your daughter discovering a new, little critter from the backyard and bringing it in, before promptly losing it. Or all three kids getting into mischief with each other somehow.

But when it was silent, you knew there were real shenanigans afoot.

You drew in a deep breath, mustering what energy you had left inside yourself, for Syverson Madness. “Guys! I’m home!” You called out, swinging the front door shut with a little more strength than usual, as you moved a step deeper into the powderkeg. “What are you nuts up to?” You mumbled to yourself, moving towards the living room, still trying to keep yourself alert for any kind of trap or scare.

Little good it did, as a strong hand suddenly grabbed your elbow and yanked you backwards into the dark portal of the laundry room door, with a yelp. The hand shifted to your mouth and the door closed with a soft click.

“Ssshh.” Sy cooed at you, moving his hand away. “Gotta keep quiet, Sugar Butt.” He chuckled at you.

You could hear the smirk on his bearded face, before he clicked on the tactical flashlight he was carrying. You looked him over in the dim light, discovering him in his full Army tactical gear, minus his bare feet. He even sported his night vision goggles clipped to his helmet.

“What in the he-” You were about to demand, scanning him again, but spotted one of your son’s Nerf Rifles strapped to his back. “Give me that!” You huffed, gobsmacked, as you took the light and started checking him and the laundry room out. “Good Lord, Almighty!” You laughed, shaking your head.

He had a Nerf pistol in his thigh holster, a pump gun on the dryer, a blaster beside that, and copious amounts of ammo on the washer, with pop grenades. Which you knew were filled with either baby powder or flour from the last time a Syverson War had been declared on the house.

You looked up at your husband, bottom lip trapped between your teeth for a moment. “How long has World War Syverson Seven been going?” You asked, completely amused by how lost Sy got into playing with your kids, and how much they loved it when he did.

Sy looked at his watch. “Since just after breakfast. Myles chose violence and shot Ada in the back, while she was trying to color a picture. Tears ensued, which caused Colt to declare revenge on Myles, in Ada’s name.”

“You got roped into this, how?”

“Ada got in on it, insisting she didn’t need a man to defend her honor…”

“That’s my girl.” You chuckled, smirking.

“It is.” Sy laughed back. “But, in defending her own honor, she shot me in the leg, while I was trying to get them to chill out.”

You nodded your head, seeing all the pieces fall into place. “Which, obviously, by the Syverson Code, requires you to defend your own honor.”

“Obviously, Angel!” Sy answered, faking outrage. “You should know that, after fifteen years!”

“Fifteen years, and I’m still jotting things down in the Syverson Code of Conduct booklet!” You laughed, shaking your head, there were a lot of things Sy lived and would die by.

They were many of the things that made your heart swell with love for the burly, ex-Army vet.

“So, how do I configure into this madness?”

“You just got home from a super long shift, Sugar.” He answered, brow pinching. “You’re an innocent bystander. I just had to save you before one of those hellions out there shot you.”

“My savior.” You cooed, pushing up on your toes and kissing him. “My back and arches appreciate you.”

“The Lair is off limits, per usual.” He informed you. “We just have to make it out of here and upstairs.”

“Quite the way.” You commented, mentally mapping your and Sy’s route out of the laundry room, through the living room and entryway, then finally up the stairs and home free to the master bedroom, which was referred to as the Lair, where you could rest without having to worry about the family war.

“All right, Captain, what’s the plan?”

He gave you the Syverson wink and reached over your head, there was a sharp click and from outside the laundry room, you heard the kids’ screech. Sy had thrown the power switch to the house, plunging it into the darkness. You chuckled, smirking, understanding his tactic now.

“Stay close.” He whispered to you, clicking his ammo to his vest on, before moving to the door. “The enemy is sneaky and uncivilized.” He said, pressing his body against it, listening carefully to the other side.

“Like their father.” You mumbled under your breath with a snort, huddling yourself against his back.

“I’d say more like their mama.” Sy commented back, reaching back to pop you on the bum, then slowly cracked open the door.

You shuffled out after him, casting glances over your shoulder every few seconds. It was easy going, getting through the living room. Sy had defended it mightily throughout the day, so the kids had become shy about entering their father’s domain. You trusted Sy to protect you, from everything, your kids included. Silly as that was to think.

“We have movement at 12!” Sy called out, catching your nine year old, Myles, through his night vision in his fort, consisting of the dining table and chairs that he was hunkered down underneath, belly crawling from one end towards the other, closing the gap between himself and the entryway. “He’s under the table. A sneaky little sniper boy.” He snickered, shouldering the Nerf-AR resting against his side.

You scrunched yourself up behind Sy’s wide and muscular back as Nerf Darts started whizzing by, striking the scuffed wood floor or sticking to the walls. Both Sy and Myles laughed maniacally as they shot at each other; tossing weak insults on top of it.

“Milk drinker!” Myles shouted, hustling to reload.

“Lizard eater!” Sy shot back, smirking.

“Now, boys!” You scolded weakly, snorting.

They continued their assault, Sy guiding you towards a pocket the bottom stairs provided coming down into the foyer, allowing you to take cover and him to shoot through the bars of the steps.

“Are you hit?” You asked, playing along with the game.

“Nothing I’ll die from.” He answered, reloading his weapons. “But, you can be a good nurse and kiss them all better.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“That’s cheating!” Myles yelled out.

“Well, If I was over there, I’d do the same thing to you, Bud!” You called back, planting a kiss on Sy’s cheek, his well-groomed beard tickling your skin.

“An aid relief truce then?” Myles suggested, poking his head out from under the table.

“Certainly not!” Sy barked back, popping a Nerf dart off over his son’s head, sending him scurrying back into his fort. “She’s my nurse! I found her out wandering the battlefield, unprotected. If you wanted her to be your nurse, you should have found her first, yourself!”

“I almost did! Before you kidnapped her!” Myles huffed, hotly. “You’re holding her hostage!” He suddenly insisted. “Don’t worry, Mama. I’ll rescue you!”

“Oh my, a hostage situation.” You sighed, licking your lips. “I appreciate your devotion, son.”

“Ha.” Sy scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t think so, boy. I’m escorting this lovely lady to the Lair.”

As Sy and Myles argued over who was going to have the pleasure of accompanying you upstairs, you caught a slight movement behind you and Sy, lurking in the darkness of the living room; moving slowly. It vanished behind the couch, and for a moment you thought it was just Aika, but when something popped up over the back of the couch, then quickly ducked down again, you were then positive it wasn’t the old girl. But your Daddy’s girl, Ada. Of all the children, six year old Ada was the most like her father. She’d been attached to Sy’s hip from the moment she left your womb. Hanging on Sy’s every word, movement and action, that sometimes it spooked you.

So, watching her stealth around in the dark of the living room was both impressive, amusing and a tad terrifying. Especially since you knew the little hellion was coming for revenge on her father and brother. There were no alliances between them during a Syverson war. You were the only ally allowed to go between the four of them. Mending wounds, mostly pretend ones, but sometimes there were real ones. Sometimes, you’d team up with one of them, to take on the other three.

“On your six! In the living room, babe!” You warned, snagging the Nerf pistol from Sy’s thigh holster as he reacted, purely by instinct, removing one of his baby powder pop grenades, tossing it behind him without looking, trusting your instruction.

Ada startled, surprised that you had noticed her, followed by a cloud of baby powder obscuring her view. She came to a halt, upon hurdling the back of the couch, in an attempt to overtake you and Sy. You took aim and fired, the Nerf dart hitting her square in the chest.

“Nice shot, hon.” Sy nodded, patting your leg, then called out to his daughter. “Sorry, Cricket, but that’s a kill shot.” He told her, his voice soft, but uncompromising.

Ada huffed, pressing her lips together. “Not fair, Mama isn’t supposed to shoot us! She doesn’t have anything to avenge!” She protested, crossing her arms.

Sy chuckled, cocking his head at her. “Mama has her own special rules in our Wars, you know that, Cricket.”

“I’ll come kiss it better, but you know Daddy’s five minute rule.” You chimed in, feeling bad about it, you honestly hadn’t meant to hit her, it was just a lucky shot.

But rules were rules. You could go and kiss her boo-boo better, allowing her to enter the War game again. However, Sy had made a rule that anyone hit with a Kill Shot had to be dead for at least five minutes, before you could render aid to them.

“All right.” Ada sighed, before flopping to the floor with a dramatic sound.

“Where were we?” Sy asked, then nodded. “Right, Myles, kindly allow me to escort my Nurse upstairs.”

“No deal, Pops.” Myles replied, shaking his head.

“Can I just go upstairs on my own?” You asked, peeking at your son through the spindles of the stairs.

Myles was quiet for a moment, considering. “Only if I get to keep you to myself for an hour!” He finally answered.

“Oh, he drives a hard bargain, that son of yours.” You teased Sy, tickling the back of his neck.

“That he does.” Sy agreed, shivering, as he brewed over Myles' offer. “You can have her for thirty minutes!” He negotiated with him.

“Thirty minutes!” Myles barked in outrage.

“You have to go to bed in two hours, boy!” Sy reminded him.

“So, give her to me for an hour!”

You smirked and pressed your palm to the base of Sy’s neck, leaning in close, your lips brushing against his ear, so only he could hear you. “Let him have me for the hour, Austin. I’ve been gone for twelve hours, and they have to go to bed in two. It’ll give me a little bit of time with them.” You reasoned with your husband. “We’ll have all night together after they're asleep, and the next two days, when they're at school.”

Sy nodded, rubbing his lips together. “You’re right.” He whispered back to you. “All right, you can have her for an hour, after you let her go upstairs and do what she pleases.”

A muffled yes came from the dining room. “Deal! You’re free to come out, Mama!”

“Thank God! I have to pee really bad.” You chuckled, kissing Sy, before scurrying out of your hiding place with him and started up the stairs, as you reached the top, you wondered where your middle child, Colt, was.

The seven year old was oddly missing in action the whole time the rest of you were battling and negotiating downstairs. As you reached the top, a cry filled the air, startling the life out of you, before a fury of Nerf darts peppered you all over.

“COLT!” You howled at the boy, dashing for your bedroom door and taking cover behind it.

“Colt Nero Syverson!” Sy’s voice called up the stairs. “You know the rules about firing upon your mother!”

“I’m sorry, Mama.” Colt’s soft voice whimpered in the dark to you. “I didn’t know it was you.”

“It’s fine, little man.” You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Just mind yourself.”

“Okay, Ma.” He smiled, ducking back into his hiding place; his room.

“Oh, this family.” You sighed again, closing the door and rushing for the en suite, tugging off your shoes as you went. “Ooo.” You cooed, enjoying the feeling of the icy tile on your bare, throbbing feet.

Bladder empty, you splashed some cool water in your face, then got out of your nursing scrubs, replacing them with a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top. You laid down on your and Sy’s enormous bed, dozing off for a couple minutes before getting back up to fulfill the promises you made to Ada and Myles.

“Colt, I’m coming out, please don’t shoot me.” You called through the crack you opened in the bedroom door.

“Okay, Mama!” He called back.

Coming out of the room, you stood at the top of the stairs, but frowned and turned, heading down to Colt’s room. “What are you doing, buddy?” You asked, peeking around the doorframe, seeing he had made a little barricade and was hunkered down behind his bed. “Why haven’t you come down to challenge your dad, brother and sister?”

“Oh, I have, Ma!” He answered, his smile showing off the two front teeth he lost a month before. “I’m just waiting for the most opportune time to go back downstairs to finish off whoever is left.” He sat up on his bed a little more, eyeing you. “How many of them are left?”

You smirked at him, slyly. “You know I’m not allowed to give away information to someone, especially if I’m not teamed up with them, little man.”

“Poop.” He huffed, slapping his mattress and sitting back. “Do you wanna be on my team?” He asked, hopeful.

“Sadly, your Papa had to bargain me off to your brother for an hour, so I could go to the Lair and change.” You informed him, giving him a sympathetic smile. “But, how about this? When it’s bedtime, I’ll come and read to you, whatever you want.”

“Eragon!” He gasped, enthralled again.

“Deal.”

“Deal!”

“All right, wee man, if I don’t see you before then, I’ll see you at bed time.” You cooed at him.

You headed back downstairs, pausing on the middle landing. “I’m coming downstairs, don’t shoot!” You announced to Sy and Myles.

“All clear!” They both called back.

You joined them downstairs, finding them just as you left them.

“Mommy, can I be alive again?” Ada called to you from her spot behind the couch.

“Yes, love, I’m coming right now to fix your boo-boo.” You replied, crossing the entryway and leaned over her, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “There, sweet girl. All healed and alive again. Off you trot. Why don’t you watch a movie on your tablet, until bedtime?”

“Thanks, Mama!” She giggled, hugging your waist, then ran off.

With your daughter resurrected, you joined Myles in the dining room, and despite the soreness in your body, got under the table with him. “Just you, Colt and your Papa now, big man.” You told him, propping your head up on your hand. “Tough crowd.”

“But I got you, Mama.” Myles countered. “You can heal all my wounds.”

“Mm, that I can.” You nodded, casting your eyes past the table legs and made out Sy’s outline. “But, that’s about all the energy I’ve got for you. Bringing your sister back to life took a lot out of me. So, I can’t help you fight either of them.”

“That’s fine. I can finish them.”

You reached out and brushed your fingers through his tamed, black curls. “I have all the faith in the world in you, my sweet boy.” You cooed at him, lovingly.

“Moooom!” He groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Time’s wastin’, kid!” Sy called out.

“You stay here, mom. I’m gonna sneak around.” Myles said, wiggling back up the table towards the back entry of the kitchen.

“I’ll be here.” You replied, propping your head up on your hand, eyes drooping for a moment.

At least, you thought it was for a moment, until you felt a pair of strong hands grab your ankles and yanked you out from underneath the table, startling you awake from the nap you dozed into.

“Jesus.”

“Naw, just me, Angel.” Sy grinned, helping you up.

“Where’s Myles?” You asked, rubbing at the sleep in your eyes and noticing he wasn’t in his tactical gear anymore, but just a pair of shorts.

“Out cold in bed.” He answered, steadying you with his hands on your hips.

“But…” You frowned, glancing at the stairs over your shoulder.

“Colt came down not long after Myles tried sneaking around me through the kitchen.” Sy explained to you, a proud little glint in his blue eyes. “Took out both of us, the little rascal.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “We found you asleep and they understood you had a long day, and would spend time with them tomorrow, after they came home from school.”

You pressed your forehead against his chest. “What in the world would I do without you?” You cooed, sighing heavily.

“I don’t know what we would do without you.” He replied, encasing you in his muscular arms and resting his chin on top of your head, rocking gently. “Let’s go to bed, love.” He whispered, scooping you up off your sore feet and carried you upstairs, to bed.

You moaned softly, sinking into the mattress as Sy tossed the blankets over you and kissed your temple, before joining.

[amberlynnmurdock]

Here

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt saves his wife from being held hostage by Fisk's men and helps her with the PTSD that comes from it.

From this request from an anon named melted butter!

I hope you like it, anon friend!

Warnings: brief mentions of violence, hostage situation, PTSD symptoms, heavy angst in the beginning

Words: 2.7k

Suite No. 1 in G Major, BWV 1007: 1. Prelude

There would never come a day when she wouldn’t associate that song with blood, torture, and darkness. 

There would never come a day when she wouldn’t remember the cloth wrapped around her eyes that felt like sandpaper on her skin and the way her head pounded from the tightness of the blindfold. She could still feel it sometimes—unprompted moments of weakness when she would put on a hat or earmuffs in the winter and the feeling of something being wrapped around her head transported her to that awful night. She’d rather leave the beanie and earmuffs at home and risk her head getting cold than be reminded of that torture. 

It was the way she hesitated to put on gloves because if her wrists felt too constricted she would be reminded of the way the rope burned her skin so badly it left scars. She’d leave those at home too, and risk dry and cold hands. 

“Sweetheart,” Matt said earnestly, wrapping his hands around her cold ones. “Your hands are so cold. Why didn’t you put on gloves?”

She didn’t reply—she just let Matt continue to warm her hands with his. She preferred it that way. She preferred him to feel the scars around her wrists than her to look at them. 

Ever since that night, she took the coldest showers. Every shower was an ice-cold one. The place they had her held hostage in was stuffy—hot. She remembers her own sweat dripping down her face and the salt burning her eyes even under the blindfold. She can’t feel too hot anymore or else she will again be transported back to that traumatizing night. 

And the song—that fucking song. 

She wasn’t sure if it was a torture tactic or if the Kingpin had requested it be played. The only thing that mattered was that they kept it on repeat, at a loud volume—so loud she could hardly hear her voice when they would ask her a question about Daredevil. 

“I don’t know,” she cried behind her blindfold. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I—“

SLAP!

The violins started to feel like her head was being woven in torturous ways. The sound filled her senses similarly to how cough syrup fills one's senses—bitterness from the smell to the taste on the tip of her tongue. It was nauseating to listen to the song over, and over, and over, and over again. Nauseating to be in a situation like she had just two months ago: alone, in pain, and scared. So very scared that she may not make it. 

Until he found her. He told her he would always find her. 

She didn’t know he was there until the music finally stopped playing, and the lights in the warehouse went out. She was blindfolded but the way the men started yelling about the lights told her everything she needed to know. She was shaking against the wall, sweating, trying to find that relief she should feel that Daredevil had come to her rescue—but even that couldn’t shake off her fear. 

“If you ever get taken from me,” Matt had whispered to her one night in bed as he fiddled with the diamond ring on her finger, “know I will find you. And when you know I’m there, I want you to whisper to me like I am now. Because I’ll hear you and I’ll come to you.”

She whispered to him as soon as she heard the music stop and Fisk’s men were shouting at each other. 

“Matthew,” she hushed even lower than a whisper, “Matthew. Matt…”

Matt has dealt with a lot of dark situations as Daredevil, even before he donned the name and had a red suit. Years ago, he saved a little boy from a Russian gang. He saved a group of young girls from trafficking. He has dealt with the worst criminals in this city and it never got easier. All he could do was save people. He just never bet on the fact that one day he would have to save her.

It was something they talked about before deciding to get married. After months of convincing himself he could never have a life like that, she told him that God didn’t put him on this earth to only bear other people’s burdens. God meant for him to have a life like everyone else—a life that included love and marriage. He agreed on one condition: that it be an intimate small wedding at Clinton Church. And by intimate, only Foggy, Karen, and Marci were invited. 

He never wanted to prepare for a situation like this. He never wanted this day to come. He never pondered on what protocols to teach her if someone were to take her—but after months of avoiding the subject, he thought that was still important in case the situation ever did come. And unfortunately, it finally did come. 

He remembers how still the apartment was when he came home—how silent and cold it was. She hadn’t been home since the morning, he could tell. Icicles started to form on the back of his neck when he realized he hadn’t received a call from her since she left work—which was over an hour ago. Matt felt weak in the knees suddenly. He had to support himself on the kitchen counter as he focused his senses on noises outside of the apartment. 

“Dear God,” Matt whispered, “please keep her safe until I find her. Please help me find her.”

The whispers didn’t last long, nor the prayers—soon, Matt was throwing a rage in the apartment. Shattered glass was on the floor. Broken plates. Matt’s agonizing scream when reality finally settled in him that she was taken from him—by who? There was only one possibility. 

In no time he changed into his Daredevil gear and was prowling the streets, rooftop to rooftop, to find where they had been keeping her hostage.

A warehouse by the pier. He could hear the classical music playing at an incredible volume, enough to hurt her ears and get in her head. As soon as Matt found the source of the music, he shut it off, along with the power. 

And then he let the devil out. 

He thought with his fists before using logic to fight these cronies—throwing punches and brutally throwing men over his shoulders, hitting them relentlessly with whatever weapon he found near him. His billy club wires wrapped around someone's neck so tight it made them pass out, using the metal billy club to throw right in another man’s face. Matt moved recklessly in the dark. He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs so loudly it would feel like his chest was ripping apart but he didn’t because he knew she had experienced enough yelling on this night. 

And then, he heard her. 

“Matthew,” she whispered so quietly, it almost missed Matt’s senses. “Matthew… Matt…”

As soon as he made sure all of the men were out, he rushed to her side. Adrenaline pumped in his veins, he was shaking from it. He knelt before her and took off his gloves. 

“Hey,” he cooed, “it’s okay. I’m here. I found you,” and Matt’s voice was wobbly in his throat, tears threatening his eyes but no—he needed to be strong for her. He didn’t know what she endured—quite frankly, didn’t want to know—but he knew it had been a lot on her mentally. She was sobbing. He’d never heard her like this. The blindfold was wrapped so tightly around her eyes. Matt gently untied it and slid it off. He then smelt something metallic in the air—salty. It was blood. Her blood was around her wrists. Matt choked a sob in his chest as he untied her wrists. He could sense the tight friction of a bruise forming on her cheek. 

“I found you,” Matt’s voice cracked—he couldn’t help it. He was a wreck inside to find her like this. In pain, scared, alone. No—not alone anymore, he was here. “It’s okay now.” He gathered her delicate frame in his arms, holding her against his body tightly but not crushing her, and ran his hands through her hair, hushing her cries. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I have you now. They can’t hurt you anymore. I’m here.” 

Matt wasn’t sure what was more traumatizing for him—finding her in that situation or hearing her cries after, and the months that would follow. 

It made him question if marrying her was the right decision.

Despite these small things bringing her back to that dreadful night, there was one positive thing that she would never forget either: the feeling when she saw Daredevil—Matt—kneeling before her and gently pulling her blindfold off. The warm wash of relief that spread in her chest was so unexplainable, she could only feel it again if she really put her mind to it. It was like a warm, safe embrace when she knew Matt had found her like he said he would. She could describe the sensation as putting on a weighted blanket. 

The image of his red Daredevil helmet is ingrained in her mind: it was him against that dark warehouse. It was the glow of the red mask that brought so much comfort to her. She was safe. He had finally come—finally found her. God knows how hard it was to locate her. She was so relieved, that all she could do was sob into his embrace. 

It didn’t get easier when they finally made it home, it only got harder. 

She lay in his bed with tear-stained cheeks. It hurt to move. It hurt to speak. She could only whisper. Matt was still in his Daredevil suit, helmet off. He paced the room anxiously, wondering how this could’ve happened, how he could have let this happen. He was thinking of every possibility and what he was going to do next—

“Matthew,” she wheezed as she watched him pace the room. “Matthew.”

He stopped instantly, bringing his attention to her. She was in so much pain, he could sense it from where he stood. It brought a strange heaviness on his shoulders. He knelt again beside the bed and took her hands in his, kissing each knuckle.

“I’m so sorry,” Matt whispered, tears falling down his cheeks—tears of sadness, tears of rage. “I’m so sorry—“

“Shh,” she hushed him. She wasn’t crying anymore. She didn’t think she had any left. “Just be here with me. I need to feel you here with me.” 

Matt took off his Daredevil suit and silently crawled into bed next to her. He carefully brought her close to him so she was snug against his chest. Safe in his arms, nothing could hurt her now.

Months have passed. It’s a bright cold day. 

She and Matt are on their way to their favorite coffee spot uptown. They hardly ever leave Hell’s Kitchen, but she was in the mood for a specific hazelnut latte that only Rosie’s could make. And if it would make her happy to travel almost twenty minutes uptown for a cup of coffee, well, Matt wasn’t going to argue. 

He never brought up that night unless she did. So when she opted to wear a beanie and put on gloves, Matt couldn’t help but feel lighter in his step from the happiness he felt: she was on her way to healing from that experience. He felt like he could forgive himself now. 

“Ready?” She asked at the door, clearly too excited to get this cup. Matt laughed and kissed her before answering. He was so incredibly happy that she seemed to be happy again. 

“Ready.”

The coffee shop had wooden floors and matching wooden tables. In the back was a small bookstore, and on the side the place had a coffee counter. Soft jazz music was playing. Some people were already settled in: a man had his headphones on and was typing aggressively on his laptop, and a young college girl was studying her books. Matt sensed his surroundings everywhere they went to make sure there were no threats.

“Why don’t you go look at the books while I order our coffee,” Matt suggested lightly, untying the gray scarf around his neck. 

“Okay,” she smiled, squeezing his hand before letting go and exploring the back of the cafe. 

Matt waited in line at the coffee counter and sighed contently. 

She immediately was drawn to the fantasy books section. She took off her gloves and placed them in the pocket of her coat. Scanning each title, she picked one out that piqued her interest and frowned when the summary wasn’t what she expected. Another title made her laugh, but she didn’t bother to read the back. She found herself in a different section—romance. She smiled as she glazed over each book spine with her fingers. Romance books always reminded her of Matt. She often imagined what their story would look like in a romance novel. 

And then she heard it. 

Suite No. 1 in G Major, BWV 1007: 1. Prelude

The violins sounded like nails on a chalkboard, bloody fingertips leaving a trail. It sounded like a screech against the pavement. 

It suddenly felt like she no longer was standing in the middle of an aisle of books. Instead, her body was being pulled and sucked into a black hole behind her. Everything around her felt overwhelmingly large and she was small, like she was Alice. Fear crept over her heart like a spider weaving its web. She felt hot in her jacket. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest like a punching bag. 

The song got louder. And louder. And louder. 

“No,” she whispered to herself, shutting her eyes tightly. But closing her eyes and seeing darkness only made it worse. “No…” she opened her eyes and felt like she had tunnel vision. 

Matt was standing in line when he heard something pounding loudly in his ears. It only took him a second to hear the song that was playing, and he was immediately looking around for her. The pounding was coming from her—from her heart. 

In no time Matt was by her side, wrapping his arms around her and quickly walking her outside the cafe—away from the lingering glances, away from that horrible song. Removing her from the triggering situation, knowing she was spiraling. 

She was breathing fast now from panic. Matt brought her into a quiet alley and wrapped her in a bear hug, holding her tightly against him. Her hair covered his face as he turned to breathe in her scent. He took a deep breath, and at the same time, motioned for her to breathe with him. 

“I’m here,” he said into her ear softly, “I have you. Breathe with me, okay?”

“Okay,” she managed to say between breaths, feeling like her own air was choking her. She breathed with Matt and closed her eyes, his touch and warm hug bringing her back to reality. 

“Listen to my voice,” Matt guided, “I’m here. I have you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Matt’s voice was always soothing to her, but especially at a moment like this. His voice sounded like how velvet felt. 

Eventually, just standing in his arms holding her tightly, her breathing returned to normal and that song was out of her head, as were her memories of that night. A few silent moments passed. Matt kissed her head softly and held her longer. He’d hold her for as long as she needed. When she was finally okay, she pulled back and reached her lips to kiss Matt’s. He kissed her in return and placed his hands on her face. 

“I’ll always be here for you,” Matt whispered. 

Matt went inside to get their coffee while she waited for him outside. Soon enough, they were back at the apartment, finishing the last of their drinks and sitting on the couch. She rested her head in his lap and Matt drew circles in her hair, counting the breaths it took for her to fall asleep. He’d of course be there when she woke up. 

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

utm really establishes a lot of the problems in the series for me. so much goes into establishing rhysand's actions utm as the defining turn of the tide - but in reality, rhysand never actually accomplishes anything from those abusive moments. a lot of them, in retrospect, actually don't make sense, from a tactical point of view. like feyre...dies. amarantha just kills her. so all of the dancing, all of the sa, all of the drugging - none of it accomplished anything. if anything, they undermines the actual efficient ways that rhys does initially help feyre.

for example - rhys scaring feyre from the manor. its such a counterproductive move that i truly don't understand why the editor allowed this to go through. feyre is literally this close towards confessing her feelings toward tamlin and rhysand's visit single-handledly ruined the easiest way out of the curse - which is for feyre to just say i love you. i cannot stress enough that rhysand is literally completely alone. NOBODY KNOWS THAT HE'S THERE AND WHY HE'S THERE. and if they did he is quite literally a daemati; he could be explaining everything while he pretended to enact violence. he literally - and i mean literally- could have pulled tamlin aside and explained to him whats happening utm. TAMLIN LITERALLY JUST WANTS TO TALK TO HIM. as a matter a fact, tamlin and lucien get down on there knees and beg him not to tell amarantha....and he tells amarantha anyway. like - okay he suspects feyre is his mate, she's close towards confessing her feelings, rhysand knows why she's there and what tamlin and is trying to accomplish and his first instinct is to do something that would (1) damn feyre to death (her family lives right by the wall and (2) jeopardize the closest they've been in FIFTY YEARS towards being free from amarantha.

and im not not that it happens - with the right writing and direction, a good writer could get away with it. im mad that the story tries to reinvent those moments as evidence of love and pragmatism when its not. im not mad that rhysand is bitchy and antagonistic toward tamlin, im mad that the story tries to sell those behaviors as anything ing but...antagonism and bitchyness. the story could have literally just leaned into rhysand not being mentally sound and explain that in those moments, he is looking to exert power over tamlin and feyre. thats literally okay and expected given his predicament. him telling amarantha that feyre is a hunter led to her having to face down the wyrm, his drugging of her and taking of her clothes made it so where the hot food she was getting was inconsequential because she could no longer get her food down. he took her out her cell to sexually assault her every night for months and then took her memories away from her so she could even process the violation. she was so tired for dancing in a trance for hours that she was so tired that she couldn't even begin to think about what the the answer to the riddle could be.

[yanderes-galore]

I was surprised by how much I liked your platonic!Rhaenys Targaryen short, since I don't typically request platonic yanderes ☺️ Could we get a concept for platonic!Rhaenys, please?

🕊️ anon

Sure! I said Rhaenys Velaryon on the title to distinguish Rhaenys (Aegon I's wife) and Rhaenys (Corly's wife).

I'm so worried I butchered her character... so I'd appreciate feedback to write her better! For now, just put down little thoughts I had. I love her... just wish I knew how to write her.

Yandere! Platonic! Rhaenys Targaryen/Velaryon Concept

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Blood, Murder, Isolation, Death, Paranoia, Major canon character death mentioned, Fear of loss/death, Dubious companionship.

Rhaenys seems like she'd be fiercely protective of those she cares about.

More specifically... those she views as her children or something similar.

Related to her directly or not, Rhaenys is devoted.

She seems like she'd be a very attentive mother, aunt, grandmother, etc....

She is shown to care for her family.

She loves her husband, she loves her children, she loves her dragon.

Rhaenys would keep her obsession on Driftmark with her.

You could be related to her... or even a young servant she felt protective towards.

Rhaenys seems like one of the more moderately intimidating yanderes.

She isn't quite as kind and peaceful as Viserys, but she isn't hungry for violence like Daemon.

She's in the middle, often planning tactically to take on situations.

While she would be caring... she can be stern.

Rhaenys would love a Dragonrider obsession.

If you're not... even then I can still see Meleys being just as protective of you as her rider.

Rhaenys would keep her obsession in Driftmark, although... if the Dance started... she'd tolerate keeping you at Dragonstone with Rhaenyra.

Rhaenys feels she plays a big part in your life.

She'd be very caring whenever you're around.

I also imagine Rhaenys would want a say in your betrothal partners.

After all, she's quite the protective one.

Rhaenys can be just as fierce as her dragon, Meleys.

She's often calm, yet always planning how to keep you safe and happy.

She views herself as a guardian to you, after all.

You have your freedoms, yet Rhaenys expects you to stay where she is.

Be that Driftmark or Dragonstone, she wants you in sight.

If you aren't, not even Corlys can sway her from searching for you.

While you have your freedoms, Rhaenys knows how to give you your punishments too.

She'd never hurt you, but I can see her discipline you by isolating you in your chambers.

Y'know, like being grounded?

It's humiliating how she treats you like you know no better...

But it gets the message across in her eyes.

If you ran from her or left to join The Greens, Rhaenys will not hesitate to use Meleys to find you.

She will drag you back home kicking and screaming through dragoon fire if she has to.

You will not aid The Greens or run from her in any way.

Rhaenys likes to treat you as one of her children regardless of your relations.

She dislikes Daemon speaking with you, seeing him as a poor influence due to how impulsive he is.

She worries when Corlys suggests taking you on ships to learn the seas, wanting to keep you with her at Driftmark.

Even during the war, Rhaenys keeps a close eye on you.

She's careful with you, especially when she loses Laena and Laenor.

In fact, Rhaenys would just get worse when she loses her son and daughter.

Before then she was always protective yet loving towards you.

Yet when she loses her children?

The older woman clings to you... scared to lose you.

Even more so when she thinks Rhaenyra killed Laenor.

Similar to Rhaenyra, I can see Rhaenys having some trust issues after the deaths of her children.

She doesn't betroth you because she's scared to lose you.

If you are female, she'd be scared to lose you in childbirth.

If you are male, she'd probably be scared to lose you in the war.

Either way, Rhaenys is a bit paranoid of losing you too.

Whenever you're with Rhaenyra, Rhaenys is close by.

However, despite the Laenor incident, she eventually knows she has to trust Rhaenyra with you for your safety.

Oh, if anyone did hurt you?

Gods forbid if you were killed?

Rhaenys promises Fire and Blood with Meleys for revenge.

Does it go against orders? For once, she doesn't care.

You mean too much to her.

If Rhaenys is platonic over you, I bet even Corlys is to a degree.

The two are quite a healthy power couple... Rhaenys would probably get him to help with your care in Driftmark.

Rhaenys would keep you out of the war for as long as she can.

She's seen children die, Rhaenyra's especially.

No one can convince her to send you out to fight.

Be that commanding a fleet or riding a dragon... Rhaenys will stay against it.

If you're a servant she doesn't have to worry about that.

Rhaenys may originally be wary of you meeting Meleys, but Meleys is aware of how much you matter to the queen who never was.

The large red dragon often greets you with a trill, gently caring for you with Rhaenys in sight.

This shared care Rhaenys has with her dragon is what allows Meleys to risk anything to protect you both.

Rhaenys doesn't flinch at the deaths of those who cross her.

Any who cross her or you are fed to Meleys.

She takes your well-being very seriously.

Rhaenys always gives you advice and life lessons, she's lived a long time after all.

She warns you to be cautious and to come to her for issues.

Rhaenys always wants to know where you go.

You aren't even sent anywhere to be a diplomat.

It may be selfish... but Rhaenys can't lose anymore of what she loves.

She'll do anything to keep you under her care, including lock you in Driftmark or Dragonstone until you learn it's for the best.

[ownlittleuniverse]

snippet #2 - the villain surprises the hero

warning: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, harmful behavior, touchy villain (not nsfw), depictions and descriptions of physical violence, may be uncomfortable or triggering for some readers, reader discretion is advised.

The hero had been captured again, tied to a chair, blindfolded, and beaten to a pulp until the only thing they could taste, smell, feel, was their blood.

It was routine at this point.

Get captured, refuse to give up information, get a few new scars before their team showed up. At a certain point, these so-called villains became predictable. None of them truly scared the hero anymore.

The hero’s head came up at the sound of a door creaking open then slamming shut, footsteps following behind. They clenched their fists against their restraints, sighing, preparing themselves for another round of mediocre scare tactics.

The footsteps of the person started to become louder and louder, the hero could hear them slowly circling their chair like they were tracking prey.

They stopped right behind the hero, their breath tickling their ear, making the hero shiver behind their blindfold.

Their captors before had never gotten this close, at least without a weapon or some weak verbal threats. This felt… different somehow. It made the hero a bit antsy. Their chest became heavier as they listened to the sounds of the person’s even breathing.

Their gut was trying to tell them something.

Something was wrong-

Their heart stopped when they heard the person’s whispered voice.

“Hello, Darling.”

No.

The hero frantically jerked at their restraints but they wouldn’t budge, it only made the rope dig more into their body. Loud and panicked sounds escaped them as their heart started to beat in their head.

The person only chuckled at their attempts to free themselves.

No. No.

They— there… it’s not possible.

“Did you miss me?”

No. They needed to get out. Tears started to seep through their blindfold, as well as sweat as they jerked their head around. They couldn’t get out, they couldn’t even see where they were. The hero was frantic, horribly panicked, and the villain reveled in it.

The villain was the only one who could evoke genuine terror from their hero. Turn them into a screaming, begging mess at their feet.

The villain trailed their hand delicately over the hero’s neck, wrapping their fingers around them and stroking. The hero let out a choked whimper, their body completely shivering.

“You never thought you’d feel this again, did you?” The villain smiled, “My touch making you deliciously crazy?”

No. They didn’t. The villain was supposed to be dead.

The hero’s breathing grew more erratic by the second, more and more tears streamed down their face, mixing with the dried blood and stinging their fresh shallow cuts.

They saw their dead body. They buried them in that grave. They stuck that knife in their chest so many times they lost count as they watched the life drain out of them. How?

“It’s been far too long, my love,” the villain said, “I think we should relive some good memories.”

The hero couldn’t answer, only cry out and tried to wiggle their way out of their restraints again and again and again. It was a pity, the sight of someone trying to escape the inevitable.

The villain started to slowly lift the hero’s ripped sleeves, rolling them to expose their skin. No. No. No. Anything but that.

The villain watched in awe as their hero completely lost it and tried so hard to escape them, even though their hero was smart enough to know there was no hope. No one was coming to save them.

“Sh, sh, sh,” the villain cooed, their hand sickenly stroking the hero’s neck like comfort, “There’s no need for that, you know you're not escaping me.”

The villain trailed their hands softly up their hero’s arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They loved how their hero tried to push them off, completely losing it when the villain finally touched their scars.

They had dreamed of touching these sensitive things again. The deep scars they left all over. They hated the scars others dared to leave. They already killed those others who dared to call themselves ‘villains’, who dared to touch the hero. Only they were allowed to touch their little hero like this.

“All our fun times, etched into your skin,” the villain said in awe. Their hero tried to get out of their hold, their sobs echoing across the room.

The scars felt different this time, some of them. The hero must have tried to rid themselves of their marks, but failed miserably. How cute.

Their hero should know better than to try to rid themselves of the villain.

They continued to trace over the uneven skin, the memories of the many long lovely torture sessions they subjected their hero to flooding their brain, and they were sure their hero was reliving it too.

“Stop,” the hero whispered, choking on their sobs, “Please-

“Just like my scars,” they cut in, pressing delicate kisses to the skin making the hero’s body shiver, “I will never leave you, love.”

It has been so long since the hero felt that terror, the feeling of adrenaline rushing through their veins, their heartbeat reaching heights that could kill them. Their breathing was so rapid, their body was in a state of complete shock and panic.

They forgot what it felt like to be terrified, and they wished it stayed that way. They thought they made sure it would.

“But, you did leave me,” The villain dug into one of their scars, making them gasp, reopening it and letting their hero’s blood trickle down their fingers.

“You left me to rot in the ground,”

“I-I didn’t-”

“Let the world forget about me.”

The villain dug in deeper. The hero cried out.

“Let yourself forget about me,” the villain whispered, their breath over the hero’s mouth.

“I’m- sorry.. please— I’ll do-“

The hero jerked and sobbed again as the villain ripped off their blindfold, the light seering their eyes.

“Your begging is pitiful,” they spat.

The hero’s eyes adjusted to the sudden light as they looked up into the villain’s. They jerked their head away. Those same eyes haunted them when the hero slept, even when they thought they were buried deep underground.

The villain grabbed the hero’s chin, digging their nails into the skin and forced their head back up.

“You really thought you could get rid of me?” the villain snapped, venom lacing every syllable.

The hero sniffled, their eyes completely bloodshot from their tears.

“I’m not going anywhere,” the villain whispered with crazy in their eyes, “and neither are you.”

The hero couldn’t answer, only cry out as exhaustion took over their body. Their body stopped fighting, just twitching every so often from the adrenaline. They were slowly accepting their fate.

“I’m keeping you, Darling,” the villain smiled, stroking the hero’s chin, “and I promise you, this time, you’ll never be able to forget me.”

The hero whimpered a slur of incoherent words in response.

The villain loved their hero like this, shaking and on the verge of insanity knowing what things the villain was about to subject them to. It was a sight the villain was going to come back to every single day. They planned to come back every night, keep them tied up, bloodied and bruised, completely helpless and at their mercy. Then afterwards, they’ll really get to work on molding their hero into perfection.

The villain mercilessly tied the hero’s blindfold into a gag, enjoying the way the hero jerked in response, and took a syringe out. Their hero’s eyes winded, as they tried to plead behind the fabric, but the thing was too tight.

They sobbed. The hero knew what was coming next. They remembered, those memories were burned inside of them. Cut into their skin.

“Don’t worry,” they whispered, kissing their hero’s tear and blood-soaked cheek, “I’ll be all you ever think about soon enough.”

They could only cry and try to plead through their eyes, shaking their head. The villain though had no mercy for them whatsoever.

Their hero betrayed them. They stuck a knife in their heart when the villain let themselves believe someone actually cared for them, they finally let themselves trust and their little hero shattered it.

They stuck the syringe right in their scar. Their hero let out a scream of terror covered by the fabric.

Now it was only fair they would shatter them in return.

[wingedshadowfan]

⚠️arcane s2 act ii spoilers⚠️

caitlyn was actually the perfect and best person to become commander, hear me out

caitlyn is the most tactically intelligent character in arcane, perhaps only second to ambessa herself (and we saw her train with her and immediately take a piece of her advice by fighting dirty [foreshadowing] before double crossing her in the same episode, and just before that tackling vi, a much stronger fighter in short range, by using the same exact moves she learnt from ambessa!) and we've been seeing her strategic, problem solving and information gathering skills since s1, she's a mastermind who's only remained overlooked bcuz she's not evil, argue with the wall

who else could've been eligible to become commander? ambessa had to basically appoint someone who wasn't incapable and made sense in the eyes of the community (like a counselor's daughter and a decorated officer) so it looked legitimate, but still somebody she could control if need be (like someone who'd just lost her mother, had her statue ceremony ruined, and lost her contact to a zaunite she was close w/ who taught her all she knew about zaun, and was now seeking revenge)

but ambessa miscalculated. caitlyn is also the best person to be in this position (for zaunites) because she's lawful, merciful and compassionate - things ambessa doesn't seem to be able to be to non family members - so caitlyn can counteract her and keep her from going rogue to the best of her abilities considering the circumstances. and bcuz caitlyn was so close w/ vi despite their fallout and cait's preexisting and not fully tackled bigotry, she's seen zaunites eye to eye and knows enough abt life in the undercity to hold the unpopular opinion that "there are good people down there"

in fact, caitlyn came into this with three very clear objectives: kill jinx, catch any silco loyalists and dismantle shimmer - all aimed at causing the least possible harm and the most benefit to the average zaunite, esp if they're cooperating or at least minding their business (and i agree there shouldn't be "conditions" you have to meet as a zaunite in order not to suffer police violence, esp when the oppressor piltover writes the laws and can change those conditions at will, but let's remember caitlyn isn't the system itself: she has to work within the legal framework she was born and raised into that she's not exactly able to change for a multitude of reasons, and she even uses that system to her advantage because it might not be good but it's better than nothing, when she confronts ambessa abt there being no legal reason or procedure for her right hand man to attack/detain a random jinxer who hadn't given him reason to).

caitlyn didn't aim to scare zaunites into submission by perpetuating violence, "give them a lesson", "teach them who's boss", she wasn't even aiming to divide zaun's factions further (until they started uniting against piltover and she wasn't left with much of a choice with ambessa breathing down her extremely high vampire cape collar), neither did she aim to eradicate the undercity or its corresponding identity (which i believe are all things ambessa is aiming for), but things spiraled out of control unexpectedly due to momentarily getting this close to catching jinx and then having a fall out w/ vi, followed by the undercity's growing resistance

had it been anyone but caitlyn, i argue it would've been so much worse for zaun from the start

[whxre-bxby]

Hi! I love your writing.

I can't get an idea/senario out of my head so if you have the time, could you please do a poly recom squad x recom reader where reader gets kidnapped by Jake and the metkayina clan as retaliation for the recoms kidnapping tuk, lo'ak and tsireya. Then they refuse to let reader go even after they got their kids back because jake want to know how they're alive and he kinda hurts/scares/threatens reader and then the recom squad come to rescue her. And when they're on base again they won't stop worrying about her and maybe some smut?

(Thank you for this idea! It had people waiting for this to release)

"Vengeance Turns To Desire"

Recoms (Quaritch/Lyle/Mansk/Lopez/Prager/Ja)x Recom Y/N

A/N: sorry for always eliminating our lady recoms. This is by far the longest fanfic I have ever written and I lost my mind while writing countless times. Eat it up.

Masterlist

Summary: Jake captures Y/N, inflicting pain on her to get answers. But the recoms refuse to leave her there so they go and rescue Y/N. Once back in safety, emotions and feelings spiral out of control.

WARNINGS: smut, ANGST, violence, blood, injuries, fluff, hurt/comfort, penetration, double-penetration, unprotected sex, voyeurism, smut with multiple people at once, blowjobs,

Word Count: 14,771 (50 pages, holy shit I know)

In the military, everything is ordered and organised. There is a structure in the daily tasks of an individual. A plan. And things are meant to go according to plan.

Today, things did not go according to plan. Everything is utter chaos. 

I’m Y/N. A recom soldier, with the sole life purpose of successfully completing my assigned mission along with the rest of my squad. That mission is to hunt down and kill Jake Sully, a man who once lived among us and who, a few years back, decided to switch sides. Now, Jake is a Na’vi in an Avatar body and no longer a human. 

We marines aren’t human anymore either. Our old bodies died and we are artificially made Avatars who have been given the deceased soldier’s memories. It’s why we exist.

Since we are the RDA’s front-line combat team, we were sent out into the world. To explore Pandora as fake natives and find Sully. Our mission status was progressing and reached a peak when we stumbled upon what we assumed were Jake’s kids in the forest. Unfortunately for us, we didn’t manage to keep them hostage for long. He and his partner attacked us, taking back their kids except for the human boy. The Colonel found him injured and on the ground. But he was alive, so the mission was called off for the day. At least we were able to bring back some source of information, even if not every soldier who left the RDA base returned home…

Time went by fast when one’s life is on the line. Things also got more challenging when we realised that our enemy left the shared biome we were in. So we had to continue our search and use other tactics to get information out of others. The recom team was running out of time, so violence became a favoured option. Morals were already long forgotten. It seemed as though it was either our life or theirs. 

We found Sully and his family near the coastlines of Pandora, cowering away in a clan of a different kind. The Na’vi that lived here were different. 

Jake introduced the RDA to the ocean Na’vi, which added them to the blacklist the RDA ran. He didn’t seem to know that he endangered all of them too. 

Very soon, our mission had no structure. We were acting on instincts and instincts alone because often, we couldn’t assume what was awaiting us. Pandora often fired many cruel surprises our way. 

In the end, one thing led to another and we were on a ship, fighting off the savage natives that had found us. Quaritch had three more kids that most likely belonged to Sully or at least someone close to him, handcuffed to a rail on deck. He seemed to like the hostage trick, probably hoping Sully would give up his life for theirs. 

That’s what is happening right now. I’m standing on deck, along with the Colonel, Lyle, Prager, Z-Dog, Mansk, Lopez and Ja. We are all that’s left of the Deja Blu team. 

I’m holding an assault rifle in my hands, keeping my eyes trained on the approaching Na’vi in the distance. No matter how unsure I feel about all of this, I have to stay composed and focused. I faintly hear the Colonel talking to Jake through the earpiece one of the kids had. He seems to be trying to lure him out on his own in exchange for the kids. Everything is finally seeming to go well. Jake is coming to us alone and for once, we are in control of the situation. Or at least that’s what we think. There’s a deadly silence on board the SeaDragon for a while. One which is abruptly ended when a Tulkun comes crashing out from the surface of the ocean, landing on the ship. The sudden action stuns everyone and causes all the Na’vi in the distance to take the opportunity of our vulnerability and attack. 

My heart is pounding in my chest when I fall to the ground and see the huge whale struggle on board. My instincts scream at me to attack it, so I do. Swiftly sitting up, I raise my arms and aim them at the gigantic creature. Without a second of hesitation, my fingers hold down the trigger and I’m firing at it, soon realising its skin is unpenetrable with bullets. That doesn’t stop me from trying to find a weak spot though. Chaos breaks out as I start hearing shouts and screams around me. The rest of the team is on the other side of the Tulkun, separating me from them. 

A sudden surge of panic flows through my body and my heartbeat picks up, but I continue to do what they are. Attacking the hostile animal.

But that doesn’t last very long. Its tail fin lifts into the air as it tries to move and slams down next to me, making me roll to the side to dodge it. I see it lift from the corner of my eye again before it collides with the deck once more, this time breaking the ground beneath me. In moments, I’m on my feet, trying to move away from the broken-off part of the ship but before I can even comprehend what happened, I’m thrown off board and into the water. The whale’s strong fin swung against my middle, effortlessly knocking me off my feet and causing me to be submerged in water. 

My weapon swung in a different direction and I can’t see it anymore. But that isn’t my main concern at the moment. I’m running out of air and my lungs are aching, forcing me to swim up to the surface to breathe. I feel weighed down and still in shock from what just happened, but I manage. 

My head breaks through the surface of the water and I gasp for air. A small sense of relief manages to prevent my heart from pounding through my skin and out of my chest. I swim in one spot for mere moments, thinking about how to get back on the ship. But in that same moment, I watch that option die out when something sharp closes around my calf and pulls me down into the ocean again. I can see how I’m being distanced from the surface and the light. A look of horror paints my face and helplessness makes me feel like I’m already drowning when I turn around to see a water Na’vi on some sea creature, pulling me after them. The animal whose head looks similar to that of a crocodile has its mouth clamped down around my leg. A small trail of blood, oozing from my injury with the speed that it’s swimming through the water. The Na’vi occasionally turns around and soon, I realise I’m surrounded by them. But they don’t let me go. The animal keeps its teeth sunk deep into the flesh of my calf. My vision starts to blur and grow darker because I’m running out of air again. But looking up, I realise how far away from the surface I am. I wouldn’t even be able to swim that in time. So naturally, everything starts to fade and I lose consciousness, assuming this is my death. 

Day One:

My ears are ringing and I hear faint, muffled voices as my eyes start to open. Finally, I’m met with light once again. My lungs are calmly inhaling and exhaling unlike before and I feel myself sitting on the ground. A ground which seems very unfamiliar to me.

In front of me, I watch as my awakening seems to stir restlessness and start a commotion. The figures which I now realise are Na’vi have all stood up and backed away from me. 

I groan in pain, pushing my back off the wall behind me. My hands want to come up and palm my forehead to ease me back into reality but they can’t. My movement has been restricted while I was out and only now can I feel the tight rope binding my wrists together. 

The voices are talking in a language I don’t understand. Must be Na’vi. My legs are outstretched before me and my eyes stop when I properly see my wound. It’s big. The bite marks are visible and my blood has stained my skin and soaked the unusually woven floor beneath me. 

Another figure walks in but my mind is too hazy after everything that has happened to properly pay attention to my surroundings. Tiredly, I let my head fall back against the woven wall, trying to focus on my breathing instead of the pain in my right leg. 

“See that Quaritch? That’s right. I got one of y’er soldiers.” I hear someone say in English. My weak body responds and my ears twitch forwards. I open my eyes, looking through the small strands of hair shielding my face to see…   Jake Sully. 

Suddenly, my body seems to properly jolt awake and my heartbeat picks up again, pumping adrenaline through my veins. Sully had captured me. 

I stare up at him in shock, finally having the strength to look around and take in my surroundings. His stare is hard and he seems to show me no mercy. 

I also notice he’s holding what looks like a camera in his hand and he’s pointing it at me. 

The Na’vi around me have stepped out of the camera’s frame while I was coming to my senses and now I can recognise his partner. I think her name is Neytiri. A harsh glare covers her expression.

“You know what I want.” Jake snarls, pressing the radio call button he has around his neck. He seems to be talking to Quaritch through the earpiece.

“Give me my goddamn kids otherwise I’ll kill ‘er.” Sully says and I can hear the desperation in his voice. The threat is loud and clear. 

I watch helplessly as he draws a knife from the holster around his torso and walks right up to me. Instinctively, I want to move away and I struggle against the ropes. My leg moves and I whine out in pain, clenching my teeth together to stay silent. It is best to stay silent in hostage situations. 

Jake crouches down next to me and points the camera at my trembling leg. 

“See? I ain’t joking.” he adds, gripping my ankle and lifting my leg. I gasp, sinking my own teeth into my bottom lip. Unfortunately, that doesn’t prevent the pained whimper from leaving my mouth. I don’t want them to know I was in pain. I don’t want to seem weak. 

He looks at me, taking note of my reaction before almost carelessly dropping my leg. I throw my head back and clench my eyes closed. My lips are pressed together, muffling my cry. 

Jake points the video camera at my face and I glance into the lens before looking away in shame. His hand comes up and he grips my jaw, tilting my head to the side to show a wound I had on my neck before doing the same on the other side. Quaritch must have said something that made Jake smirk.

“Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?” Sully adds, digging his fingers against my jaw and forcing me to look up at him. 

“I want all three of ‘em back by the end of today.” Jake snarls, roughly pushing my head away and letting go of me. 

I smirk. Even with all the pain and horror, I manage to be myself. 

Jake notices and continues to point the lens at me. 

“Damn, all three?” I ask, before nodding with a grin. I didn’t expect them to get away with our previous three hostages. 

Jake glares daggers at me. “Yeah, all three.” he snarls. “And I’m gettin’ ‘em all back too.” 

“That’s three lives vs. one. You kidding?” I ask, before coughing lightly. “Don’t do it.” My eyes meet the camera lens again. I was talking to Quaritch, or whoever was watching. 

I hear Jake growl before he adjusts his grip on his knife and presses it against my neck. It makes me shut up but I can’t loosen my facial muscles to stop my grin. The blade is pressing into my skin uncomfortably but not harshly enough to slice through my skin. 

Jake is staring into my eyes and I can tell he’s in deep thought. Nevertheless, he looks enraged. His ears are flattened all the way back and he bares his fangs when he speaks.

“She’s gonna die here, Quaritch. I’ll make sure to make it last as long as possible.” Jake hisses, keeping the knife firmly pressed against the side of my throat. His ears twitch forwards when he hears Quaritch respond. 

His eyes are focused on mine but he’s listening to what the Colonel is saying on the other line. Jake presses his lips together in a frown, harshly glaring at me one last time before nodding and pulling his hand away. 

I exhale deeply in relief. A breath I didn’t know I was holding. Blood lightly trickles down my neck. Jake must have broken through a layer of skin with his blade. The cut burns but it is bearable. 

Jake gets up from the ground, peering down at me before shutting off the video camera and turning away. 

“I want ‘em back by tonight. And if anythin’s happened to ‘em-” Jake pauses, wiping his hand over his face in stress. “I won’t hesitate to kill her.” 

Once again, he firmly nods before motioning something to Neytiri. She walks up to him and they both leave after she turns and looks at me once more. Disgust and hatred were emitted through her look. It’s very clear that I am not wanted here.

As they leave, I overhear them exchange a few words in Na’vi. 

“Should we get her ready for the exchange?” Neytiri asks. Jake looks at her with a pause before answering. 

“No.” he mumbles, and his answer surprises her. “We can use her against them.”

His partner looks at him with wide eyes and he shrugs. “She won’t leave here alive.”

His last sentence sounds like an order. One I cannot understand.

My sense of time is gone. I don’t know whether it’s still the same day or whether I had been out for multiple days. But it doesn’t seem to matter because I know no one will tell me anyway. What is confusing me is how the Colonel and my team managed to escape that hellish chaos alive and with the kids. But I have the rest of the day to think about that now. 

After a few hours, I notice it’s dark outside. There are two armed Na’vi outside the odd-looking hut I’m in, but nothing is happening. I haven’t seen Jake since the interaction we had earlier. But I felt like I was waiting for him to come and get me. From what I understood from the talk he had with Quaritch, Jake wanted to trade me against his kids. An offer which still seems stupid to me. 

We had already lost half our squad and Quaritch never seemed too moved by their death. So why would my life matter to him? I’m one person. An Avatar they can grow again if they deem it necessary. They have three hostages. Kids with information about everything we need to know. I think it’s clear that I’m not going back. But despite that, I stayed awake in hopes of Jake returning to bring me back to them. I want to go back. I don’t feel ready to die here. Not when we have so much to still see on this planet. Even though Pandora is our enemy, I’m amazed by the beauty of nature every time we go out. The power the forests hold. 

Day Two: 

Sunlight shines through my eyelids, making it impossible for me to continue sleeping. Wait-  I slept through the night. The night that I was meant to return home if the deal worked. 

My body jolts awake in panic and the sudden movements pain my leg, making me tense up and freeze. I look around me to find a once again empty room. Shit. I promised myself last night I wouldn’t sleep until I return to the RDA.

Hours went by and I was still left alone in the tent-like hut. Usually, when hearing waves softly crash and distant noises of animals and people, one would find the atmosphere quite relaxing. But the silence was almost eery to me. I was left alone with my thoughts and it made me sick. My body was sore from not being able to move and my calf muscle was throbbing with pain. The wound I had gotten was left untreated and I was being neglected. Not that I expected to be taken care of. I didn’t. But actually experiencing this is different to imagining how it would be. 

My thoughts wandered. Jake wasn’t back. Perhaps the trade hadn’t worked. Maybe the RDA refused to give up the kids. If that were true, it doesn’t surprise me. That’s probably why I’m still here. Quaritch must have chosen to keep them hostage over saving me. I felt miserable and abandoned but if I were in his place, I would have left me too. 

Perhaps the recoms took one look at my leg and decided I was basically already dead. A wounded soldier is useless in times of war. Why bother to help me?

Day Three: 

I barely slept. Even though I was exhausted, I couldn’t rest. My entire body ached from not moving. My shoulders were becoming agonisingly sore from my hands being tied behind my back and my leg had finally stopped bleeding but it was swollen. The bite marks were deep and my blood looked infected. 

A Na’vi came into my room. She was from the water clan but I didn’t mind because I saw she was holding water and food. The girl looked young too and somehow oddly familiar. As if I’ve seen her before. 

Of course, she wasn’t alone. A large Na’vi followed her, holding a spear. His face and chest had tribal tattoos and he stood by the doorway, watching over the girl. Most likely her father. 

More people walked in and I spotted Jake between them. He walked up to me and was hesitantly followed by a few kids. 

His eyes scanned me over before he nodded at the girl next to me. She put the small basket down and gave me water while Jake discussed something with the man watching over the girl. 

I gulped down everything in the bottle. Finally, my throat wasn’t as dry as before. 

“Recognise them?” Jake asked me, motioning to the children. The girl next to me stepped to the side and kept a ‘safe’ distance. 

I look at the kids one by one. I knew two of them were his because their skin was a darker blue than the rest. But in the end, he could have many kids we don’t know about. But yes, they do look familiar. Then again, I’m really not in the right state of mind right now to be thinking about things like that.

I stay silent and return my gaze to Jake.

He smirks. “These are the kids you took.”

My eyes widen a little more and I instantly start to examine them again. He got them back?

“They’re home and safe from you monsters.” 

My ears flatten back at his remark. He wasn’t wrong but I didn’t like hearing it. 

“What’s your name?” he asks, but I stay silent. He doesn’t need to know that. 

Jake scoffs at my reaction before kneeling down next to me and pulling my dog tag out from beneath my torn tank top. 

I watch him read my name before he diverts his eyes to look at me again. 

“I tricked your friends, Y/N.” Jake snarled at me malevolently. “I got what I wanted and I have you.” 

My heart sinks as I hear this information. 

“If they’re still alive, I can tell you right now, they’re sure as hell not coming to get you.”

I felt sick to my stomach. The feeling of helplessness when your world starts to suddenly completely fall apart makes me feel like I’m drowning. It really was all over now. I’m going to live as long as they feel like it. But this is where I will stay. 

The girl reappears next to me, holding fruit in her hands. She’s peeled it and is seeming to offer it to me but Jake doesn’t let her. 

“No food for her.” he tells the girl and it makes her stop her movements and retreat her hands. 

Jake glances at me one last time before turning to the other man. 

“We need to keep her weak.”

The man nods and soon, they’re all leaving me with an empty stomach again. 

Day Four:

My head is throbbing in pain. My vision is blurry and my body is numb. This is a different kind of torture that I am now realising I won’t last much longer in. 

I have started passing out every few hours from dehydration and lack of sleep. Hearing the water beneath the woven floor had me envisioning I was drowning in the ocean again. Hallucinations were not uncommon either. 

The guards at the entrance to the hut have turned around multiple times when I would gasp and scream. I once thought I was drowning and the other time I saw the recoms walk in and I genuinely thought it was all over. But they weren’t real. They faded away in seconds and I was alone again. 

Later that day, Jake came back along with the man he was talking to before. Neytiri and another woman from the water clan entered as well. 

My eyes widened when I saw an Avatar in human clothing walk in behind Jake. I thought it could be a recom but when I looked at his face, I realised I didn’t recognise him. 

About an hour earlier I had heard a helicopter outside but I wasn’t sure whether I had imagined it. Apparently not. The Avatar looked like he was from the science department. He had tech equipment with him and started setting it down on the ground.

They were talking between each other for a while and I stopped paying attention. My mind was too hazy from the pain to listen. 

But I came back to my senses a little more when Jake came up to me and started his questioning. He had the video camera with him again. Perhaps he wanted to show Quaritch my suffering.

“How are you alive again?”

“Did the RDA make you?”

“Why are you after my family?”

The questions overwhelmed me. I don’t know why he thought it was a good idea to interrogate me when I’m in such a bad state. But I couldn’t focus properly. 

That bothered Jake, so he used force like he knew we would too. I answered only when I really couldn’t bare the pain he was inflicting on me. 

In the end, I told them our mission and why we were alive. It’s not top-secret information anyway, it was pretty obvious really. We are out for blood because he betrayed us in our past lives. What does Jake not understand about that?

The session ended with tears staining my face and blood running out of my nose. My calf resumed its bleeding after Jake had purposefully irritated the deep wound to get answers out of me. The clan leader, his wife, and Neytiri didn’t look comfortable during the torture, but they showed me no mercy. I didn’t expect them to. 

It’s only natural for them to hate me for what I am and for what I was. 

Day Five: 

I don’t feel alive anymore. I had been given more water but my body was weak. Nothing feels real to me and I’m surprised I’m still hanging on. I don’t have much to live for, how come I’m still here?

But I realise something is off today. The village isn’t calm. There’s a loud commotion outside. Big splashes of water and occasional shouting. It keeps me awake. 

A little while later, a few Na’vi come into my tent but they pay me no attention. Usually, the people are wary of me but to these two, I don’t even exist. They seem to be in a hurry as they gather a few of their belongings. I watch them roll up mats and grab a few things before jogging back outside. Were they going somewhere?

This continued for what felt like a few hours until I noticed the noise slowly start to die down. The noises of animals gathering at the shore were heard. After a while, there was no noise anymore. I was left in complete silence. 

Hours went by and there was just… nothing.

I thought that perhaps I was hallucinating about being alone. Or maybe I was dead and this is what I get after life. Neverending, loud silence. 

I feel disconnected from the world. Like I can’t keep up because I don’t know what is happening. I can’t move and I feel so utterly helpless it breaks me. I feel disconnected from life.

I start grieving for myself. Remembering the gift of freedom I had before. Before I was restricted of almost all my movement. 

I’m able to see the sun slowly set outside. My cramped-up body is slowly losing its power as the daylight outside dims. Everything hurts. My mouth is dry, my leg is putting me in agony and my breathing becomes heavy. As if there were a weight on my chest. My neck hurts from not being able to rest, my back hurts from not being able to stretch or readjust its posture and I can’t feel my tail. It’s all too much and my vision starts to black out once more. My completely numb body falls to the side and I lose consciousness.

The village has been abandoned by the clan. And they have left you alone with it. All huts are empty and there is no movement except for the small waves washing up on the coast. 

To them, you were not worthy of life. You knew that but having to bare their treatment was worse. 

Why they left, you do not know. But you’re too weak to worry about it. Your body is trying its best to keep you alive for as long as possible, but it is not doing well. You have not been nourishing it as well as you usually do and the sudden change has weakened your immune system. Your mentality and emotional strength are equally at a low because abandonment is not easy to deal with. There seems to be nothing keeping you in this world any longer. Quite frankly, you’re not sure whether those who you wish to see once more are even still breathing. Sully mentioned they had been tricked and could be dead. Perhaps you should join them, to escape this dreadful reality you’re stuck in. 

What you do not know, is that the clan and the Sully’s fled for a reason. This whole time they had been documenting your suffering and sending it to the RDA, in hopes of being able to form some type of peace treaty. But seeing your treatment had the surviving recoms feeling furious. 

The ambush Jake had set up on them to get the kids back had been seriously dangerous. Zdinarsk took a bad hit and in the end, the squad had to leave her lifeless body behind, as they had done with the others. 

Everyone else survived. 

When the recoms lost you on deck, many thought you were dead. It pained them because, to them, you were the brightest of them all. You of course never knew this, but you managed to keep the team’s spirit uplifted at all times. As humans, they had always had a special connection with you. A few new soldiers joined the recoms but the soldiers that were alive now you knew for a longer time. The Colonel included. You’re their youngest team member and they have always been protective of you. To the recoms, they wouldn’t be a team without you. You had brought them together. In the beginning, you were all strangers. You only knew Lyle from boot camp. And gradually, you unintentionally helped bring everyone closer. It was who you were and they admired you for it.

Seeing that you were alive gave them a huge relief but when they realised what hands you had landed in, it horrified them. 

Quaritch was ready to fully arm his team and walk out to find you the second his interaction with Sully ended. 

Ardmore prevented that from happening and Quaritch knew he had to listen to her. Instead, they prepared for the handover. Secretly of course, because the General would not agree to trade 3 hostages with valuable information against one wounded soldier. 

They saw you in trouble so instantly, their mission objective changed. Screw Sully, he can wait. They had to get you back. 

The full five days were spent planning what to do because the recoms panicked when they realised they weren’t getting you back from Jake. He had set up a trap for them which they fell into, due to their tunnel vision for you. 

Now, they didn’t have a plan but they have vengeance, rage and fury. Enough of it to pump adrenaline through their bodies and make them dare to walk all the way to find you. 

I didn’t plan on waking up again but hey, that’s not something I can control right? My eyes squint in irritation as my pupils are strained, trying to adapt to the sudden change of lighting. Light? It was meant to be dark. The sun had just set. 

Confusion once again revives my body and I properly look around. My weak body lays on its side but my head manages to lift up. Why the hell is it so goddamn bright when the sky outside is dark?

A strong smell fills my nostrils, making me scrunch up my sensitive nose. 

Smoke. 

I’m inhaling smoke. One breath after the other it starts to cloud the hut I’m in, but I can’t move. My ears twitch and I hear something cracking to my left. Like wood breaking and falling. My eyes turn to look where the noise came from and I see the hole that has formed in the wall of the woven tent I’m in. It’s growing bigger and the floor is slowly breaking away. Outlining it are small flames, keeping the dry fabric ignited. 

Fire. 

The village is burning. And I’m in it. Why and how it’s burning I don’t know but the smoke is clouding my vision and filling my lungs, making me think this has to be my end. In complete defeat, I drop my head again, hoping to evade the polluting grey cloud but it doesn’t help. The need to cough clogs my throat but I’m too weak to inhale a big enough breath to be able to cough. So I just resume my position, waiting for everything to end. 

You don’t move. You can’t. You’re wrists are still tied behind your back and your leg is still injured. There is no escape for you. You’re just hoping the smoke will finish you off before the flames reach you. 

Outside your hut, loud shouts of orders are to be heard. But your ears do not pick up on them. 

The fire has been set purposefully out of spite for what had been done to you. But the ones responsible for it, do not know you are still there. Once things started burning, orders were given to search the huts for anything and anyone. Best case scenario: you. 

The smoke had knocked you out again because you weren’t receiving enough air. Time is running out fast. 

Hut after hut, the recombinants find nothing, quickly running to the next one before the fire reaches it. The one you are in is on the far end of the village, so as not to inconvenience the previous inhabitants. You were a threat and they didn’t want you in the centre of it all. After all, you might bring them bad luck. 

Everyone was busy, desperately hoping to find you but also dreading to find you in flames and blood. 

Just before your roof was going to collapse on you, one soldier was fortunate enough to run past your hut and glance inside. 

Lopez’s bare feet skidded over the woven fabric that the village was built with. It was dry and able to burn fast, so they all had to hurry. 

He’s running from house to house, looking inside only to find abandoned objects and some furniture. His hope is slowly dying out as he starts to reach the edge of the coastal village. Lopez’s heart is beating fast and he feels dread weigh down his heart. What if they are too late? He should have paid attention to where you were on the ship. Not let you out of his sight. Then this would have never happened. 

He’s starting to panic again, just like when he saw you crying on the screen. 

Finally, he reached your hut. It looked just like any other hut and when he glanced inside all he saw was smoke. It was close to collapsing in on itself and Lopez was about to go and run to the next one when he saw a faint figure on the ground. It made him stop dead in his tracks and a soft breeze managed to clear the smoke from his view for a few seconds. 

There you were. 

Lying motionless on the ground.

His heart sank and everything seemed to stop for a few seconds before he was brought back to reality by the flames nearing you and the cracking of the roof above you. Without spending another second thinking, Lopez hurled his body forward, running straight up to you. He held his breath, examining you with wide eyes while his hands moved you around to see if you were alive. You gave him no reaction. He was ready to scoop you up but he quickly realised you were tied to a post which was attached to the burning wall. 

Such cruel handling to such a beautiful soul, he thought. 

He was quick to try and rip the rope but it wasn’t working. Lopez cursed himself for losing his dagger. 

Luckily, Lyle, who was also searching houses, saw Lopez run into the smoke. He hasn’t seen him come out. It meant that either he had to go help his fellow soldier in case something had happened or perhaps, Lopez had found something. 

Lyle reached the entrance of the hut, seeing nothing but a hunched-over figure. Recognising it as Lopez, he quickly entered and equally held his breath in the smoke. Both their ears were pinned back in tension and once Lyle saw you on the ground, he fell to his knees in an attempt to help you. He saw Lopez fighting the coarse rope and swiftly reached for his dagger, slicing through it to finally free you. No words were spoken, they knew what to do. 

Without hesitation, Lopez quickly slid an arm behind your back and one under the legs, lifting you into the air as he got up. Lyle quickly lead the way, flinching when he saw the roof start to break. Both men are desperate to help you out of here so they run, with you in Lopez’s arms. Finally exiting the hut, they can breathe again but they don’t stop. Just as they start to return, the entire hut collapses in on itself. They found you just in time.

All other soldiers have been ordered to get off the burning ground and back onto the sand. They were gathered on the beach and the Colonel was looking for Lopez and Lyle. A soldier called out that he spotted them and the whole team turned to see them running with a body in one’s hands. 

Immediately, all senses and attention were spiked. Was it you?

Lyle called out that they had you and a few soldiers dropped their things to go and help them where as the Colonel stayed put. The news overwhelmed him with the long-needed feeling of relief and he just stared at them, watching his highly trained marines carefully transport you to them. But there was one problem. You weren’t awake…

My head buzzed in pain from a mild headache I was getting while resting. But suddenly, as my senses return to me, everything feels different. I’m blinded by a bright white light as I once again, open my eyes. Am I dead?

I squint and the white light is above me. Yep, I’m dead. Heaven or hell, who cares. I’m not where I was and that’s all that really matters to me right now. 

Ready to close my eyes again, my other senses heightened. With my vision gone, I can focus on my hearing and smell. I smell disinfectant and hear a constant beeping which is probably what is giving me my headache. It’s coming from behind me and I open my eyes, wanting to hit whatever it was. 

Suddenly, the light is no longer blinding me and I recognise what looks to be a heart monitor. 

A gasp is emitted on my right and I flinch, looking at the figure with half-lidded and tired eyes. 

“Y/N! You’re awake!” The voice shouts in excitement. I recognise Prager and my eyes start to tear up. 

I still had no idea what was happening but I was so happy to not be alone anymore. 

Prager is barely sitting on his chair now that he seems to have placed next to my bed. He’s too happy for that. Next to him, Mansk is slowly lifting his head from his palm. The sudden commotion must have woken him up. 

He looks at Prager who is holding my hand and when he notices I’m awake, his eyes widen in surprise. It starts to load into Mansk’s head that I’m alive and he sits up, leaning over me. 

I’m very overwhelmed with everything around me. 

“You’re dead too?” I mumble, suddenly coughing a little. A smoky aftertaste is left lingering on my tongue. 

Prager tilts his head in confusion. 

“Y/N, you’re alive.” he says, smiling again. 

I shake my head. “No-” I say, pointing to me. “I’m dead.”

Prager chuckles at your existential confusion. He’s too overjoyed that your back he gets up and runs to the door. 

“Colonel, Y/N’s awake!” he shouts through the hallway, standing in the frame of the door. 

Mansk scoots closer, seeming to be in disbelief that I’m alive. He’s examining me, making sure I’m okay while now also comfortingly holding my hand. 

(click here to see a picture I drew of this scene)

Only now do I realise where I am. I’m laying in a hospital bed in what looks like it could be the RDA’s medical centre. The recoms have their own hospital because the bodies are different. 

There is in fact a heart monitor next to me and I have cannula tubes inserted into my lower arm and hand which are connected to an IV drip bag. It’s clear and filled with a saline solution. Probably best to cure my dehydration. I can feel a bandage around my calf. Finally, the wound must have been taken care of. 

“How are you feeling?” Mansk asks. His ears are perked forward, giving me all his attention. 

I slowly tilt my head back to face him. 

“Like shit.” I mutter, raising my hand impaled by small, clear tubes and my bandaged leg to emphasize my point. He drops his head and smiles. 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” he replies. But his smile is comforting. He seems to know that I must be doing better if I can curse and joke around. 

Prager steps back into the room, allowing the Colonel to come in. Quaritch was out of breath when he walked in, his eyes never leaving me. He came to a stop in front of my bed. Behind him, the rest of the remaining team came in. Lyle, Lopez, and Ja stood behind their superior and their wide eyes watched our interaction. 

“Y/N…” Quaritch breathes out as I look up to meet his gaze. He seemed relieved but his eyes showed me he was tormented with guilt. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. Why was he sorry?

“Sorry? Why?”

Quaritch looks disappointed in himself, and his eyes flicker down and away from mine to stare at the pale covers of the bed. 

“I should have been watching out for you. It’s my fault.” 

My ears droop at the news. Sure, he was our Colonel and was in charge of us all, but it’s not his fault. 

“Don’t say that.” I reply, not wanting him to feel let down by himself. “It’s not true.” 

Your words are spoken softly as if you are trying to comfort him. He notices your tone, once again being reminded why you’re so special to him and the team. Helping others even at your worst. A great quality which will never cease to amaze him. 

“We thought we lost you.” His saddened eyes meet mine again.

I smile, appreciating him showing me his caring side. Something Quaritch never did. 

“Don’t get me emotional here, Colonel.” I chuckle before abruptly coughing again. “I don’t have enough water in my body to cry.” 

A grin forms on my lips and my joking attitude makes him lightly chuckle. The others smile. 

They spend the next few hours with you, talking to you about things and letting you get everything off your chest. You told them what happened from the very beginning to the very end. It made them furious but at least you were safe now. While listening, Quaritch had his ears pinned back and was gritting his teeth. Mansk couldn’t keep his leg still and was tensely cracking his knuckles and pressing his fingers into fists. Everyone was on edge when you described what Jake had done to you. They wanted to go and end him even more now but no one would risk the same thing happening again. 

For the next few days, you were getting their full-time princess treatment. Obviously, they still had to work. This wasn’t some perfect fantasy where they would spend all their time with you and watch movies. It didn’t work that way. The RDA had to keep running and they were needed. But you were not forgotten. 

They would each stop by every day, taking turns to make sure you were alright. While you still felt very weak, your body started healing and your strength was slowly returning. It was a miracle. One you would have never imagined could happen. Not after you thought you were going to die multiple times. Not even after you were ready to face death the last time. This job, or this life, was not for the weak. 

Soon enough, I was slowly returning to my normal self. The doctors let me go after a week but I was still not allowed to participate in extremely physical activities like working out. Typical things for Marines. I just hope that I won’t forget how to do things once I’m really back. 

One might think that moving around the facility during the day was the toughest part for me. Well, that’s not true. It was a struggle but what I was really battling with were the nights. Whenever I close my eyes, my mind starts remembering and picturing everything that has happened to me over the past few days. Sleeping in the hospital was dreadful. I think that’s why they let me out early. So that I could properly rest again. 

With half of the original recom team gone, the dorms which we slept in were reduced in size. We were transferred to a shared room for the seven of us. The Colonel included. His private room was going to be used for something else. There would have been lots of complaining from his side if it weren’t for my sleep paranoia. I was going to share a room with them from now on and it relieved me. It meant that I wouldn’t have to sit through the night alone anymore and stare into the dark. I could perhaps even sleep peacefully. 

The days went by quickly for me because I wasn’t assigned any tasks. I feel like I’m just wasting my time but Quaritch tells me it’s a part of the healing process. 

The lights were shut off again and the room went dark. Normally, my heart would start racing but I could hear the soft breathing of Lyle behind me and Mansk on my left. We had our own beds, but even they were pretty close together. The Colonel slept across the room from me. 

Surprisingly, I managed to fall asleep fairly quickly. Sleeping in one room with 6 fully grown marine men on your side is a pretty comforting thought for me. I knew them well and trusted each of them. 

But once asleep, it didn’t take long for the traumatising memories to return. I dreamt that I was tied down again, stuck in the hut full of smoke. I could remember the exact pain in every area of my body and the aftertaste of the smoke in my lungs. But this time, nobody was there to get me out. The fire neared me rapidly and soon, the flames engulfed me. Out of fear, I woke up.

Quickly, I sat up from my previous laying position, breathing heavily as if I had been running. A sweat droplet ran down my forehead while my wide eyes saw that I wasn’t back there, but still safe in our room. 

I heard a bed creak next to me and turned around, flinching away when I saw a figure sitting on the bed. 

“Y/N, it’s okay. It’s me.” I hear Lyle say. My eyes close and I let out a relieved sigh. 

“Sorry for waking you.” I whisper, flattening my ears back. 

“Don’t be, I wanna help.” He softly replies, walking to the edge of my bed. I look up at him and even in the dark, I can see his smile. Our new eyes really were something. 

“Scoot over.” he whispers, gently taking hold of my blanket and lifting a corner. We knew each other well enough to know our boundaries. This was completely fine. 

“The bed’s small. You won’t sleep well.” I warn him, still listening to what he said. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” he mumbles, slowly getting under the covers with me. “Just want you to feel better.”

I smile at him, before laying my head back against the pillow. “Thanks.” 

Lyle loosely drapes his arm around my waist, pulling himself closer to me so that he won’t fall off the edge of the mattress. His hand feels the bare skin of my hip and he stops. His eyebrows furrow and he lets me go, using the same hand to lift the blanket. 

“What are you even wearin’?” he asks. I groan against the pillow. I had sleep shorts and a comfortable sleep top on. It looked like a sports bra but it was actually cozy. 

“It’s warm. And this is comfortable.” I mumble, not bothering to open my eyes. 

“It’s cold.” Lyle corrects me, placing his arm back over me and pressing himself against my back. “But you’re warm.”

“Hot.” I smirk, nudging his foot with mine before closing my eyes again. He chuckles lightly and we go silent in an attempt to sleep again. 

Unfortunately, that attempt turns out to be miserable because Lyle won’t stop moving around. His body twitches and he keeps readjusting his position. 

Then the inevitable happens. I feel something semi-hard against my ass. With the dirty mind Lyle taught me to have, my eyes shoot open and I hold my breath for a second. To see if it really is what I think it is, I push back against it. 

Lyle sharply inhales a breath and I huff out a sigh. 

“You’re kidding.” I whisper to him unimpressed, turning my head to look at him from the corner of my eye. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” he stutters, withdrawing his arm from me again. 

“This is your help? Getting all worked up?” I ask with a chuckle and the intention to make fun of him so that he would joke back. It surprised me that he was getting hard around me. I never knew he thought of me in that way. 

He doesn’t respond so I fully turn around to face him. Lyle's ears are flattened back and he looks not just embarrassed but regretful and ashamed. 

“Lyle, I’m joking.” I say, noticing his expression. 

“I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable.” he whispers to me. Lyle glances to his bed and I notice that he’s thinking about getting up. 

“Don’t you dare. I was comfortable.” I whisper-shout at him. He turns his head back to me, watching my moves to understand my reaction. 

I turn around and lay back down, in an attempt to show him I wasn’t weirded out. The situation has my heart beating faster in my chest. Probably in excitement. I don’t think my steps through. All I know is that I felt comfortable and safe with him and I wanted to return to the position we were just in. 

I lay still but my eyes are open and I wait for him to lay down again. Luckily, Lyle gives in and lowers himself back down. His chest presses up against my back once more and he keeps his arm on his side. He seems unsure whether to put it back so I gently reach behind me and pull it over my waist again, hugging his forearm against my chest. 

Within seconds, I feel his tense body melt against me and I’m comfortable again. He hums behind my head and I close my eyes.

But now I can’t stop thinking about what could happen. I know Lyle still has his problem but he’s stuck here with me and can’t really sort it out. In a way, I feel bad for him. But only then do I realise, that his presence had me feeling warmer and more jumpy than usual. 

His heavy, strong body was pressed right up against mine. There was no way he didn’t feel how warm I’m getting. Questions seem to slowly answer themselves when Lyle shifts again. 

His arm tightens around my waist and he gently pulls my hips up against his. I don’t move, letting him set the pose. He holds me tightly against him now and my ass is pressed against his now hard erection. 

I don’t know what to do but I’m no longer thinking about my actions. I just do them. My head turns to the side again to look at him. I hear him smirk and then suddenly, Lyle presses his face against the side of my neck, nuzzling his nose into my skin. This is new. All of this. Lyle and I have never been this physical. 

“Lyle?” I ask, not sure what I’m asking or what I expect to hear as a response. 

“I thought I lost you, Buttercup.” he mumbles against my skin. His other arm pushes through underneath me and he’s wrapped both his arms around me now. 

I gasp when I feel his warm lips against my skin. Lyle starts pressing gentle kisses on my neck before he licks a small stripe and then catches the skin between his teeth. 

“Missed you so much,” he whispers, moving up so that he’s now hovering over me. He kisses my cheek and I look up at him with doe eyes. He’s being so affectionate it’s making me melt. The light speckles on our skin illuminate our bodies and I see mine in the reflection of his eyes. We stare at each other for a few long seconds before he starts to slowly lean down. His eyes flicker between mine and my lips and I let it happen. There was nothing wrong with this and no reason to stop. I missed him too.

Our lips meet and Lyle immediately starts to passionately kiss me. I sigh at the pleasant feeling, lifting my hand to caress the back of his head. Tracing my hand over his skin, I stop at his shoulders and feel the muscles flexing while he’s holding himself up. Lyle’s physique always looked good to me. Having his weight on me felt even better. 

“Let me show you how much I missed you.” he whisper after we pull away. He’s watching me, waiting for my reaction. I slowly nod and almost instantly, the gap between our lips is closed again. But this time, the kiss is more heated and Lyle seems more desperate. 

My mind is hazy from my lack of sleep and sudden affection. My eyes flutter closed with every kiss and touch he gives me that time seems to speed by. Something I hate because I wish I could prolong this moment with Lyle. 

His hands are caressing my chest and he glances at me for permission while letting his fingertips linger on the fabric of my top. This time I nod eagerly and Lyle listens, gently pulling the top over my head. He groans, letting his eyes scan me before quickly moving on to my shorts. I lift my hips and it encourages him to slip them down my legs, leaving me bare before him.

“You’ve always been so pretty.” he praised me, whispering the words into my ear. “Thought I’d never be able to tell you.” 

“Stop, you’re making me feel special.” I grin, helping him pull his shirt off. 

Lyle chuckles softly. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” he whispers his promises into my ear. 

I smile, embracing him as he lowers himself back down. Suddenly, it seems like we’d both been touch starved and we couldn’t let each other go. I don’t know whether this is love or lust. Somewhere in between but we have a deep connection that’s igniting my skin with warmth. 

Lyle stripped himself as well and he’s kissing down my chest. Our bodies are hidden under the blanket in case anyone turns the light on. But we were quiet enough not to wake others. 

I open my legs, wrapping them around his waist and pulling him against me. I feel his aching hard cock press up against my bare pussy which was throbbing and becoming wet. Lyle’s body shudders in anticipation at the close touch and he can’t help but slowly grind himself against my folds. I bite my lip, exhaling shakily which his ears pick up on. 

“Please-” I whisper, wanting to be as close to him as possible. 

“You don’t need to beg, baby. Anythin’ for you.” he softly replies, gently nibbling my ear before adjusting his hips to mine. 

I feel the tip of his dick press against my entrance, carefully applying pressure to not overwhelm me all at once. 

I nod up at him, and his lips part in admiration when he sees my lust-filled and half-lidded eyes staring up at him. 

“I’ll be gentle, I promise.” He whispers to me, knowing I’m still not up to my full health. I hum in response, feeling too blown away to form words already. 

Lyle starts to gently roll his hips forward, thereby pushing himself into you. His mouth slowly drops open in pleasure, relishing in the way you’re squeezing him. The intrusion would normally make you tense up but you trust Lyle so much, you don’t stop him. Knowing he would never do anything to hurt you, you lay back and focus on relaxing yourself for him. Finally feeling so safe and good was such a contrast to how you felt a week ago. You needed this just as much as he did. 

He blamed himself for what happened just like everyone else did. Now, he wanted to apologise and make up for it. Because he missed your presence so incredibly much before, he couldn’t get enough of it now. 

Lyle finally bottomed out and he dropped his head against your shoulder in pleasure. Never had he felt this close to you, but he loved it. Even with all his built-up lust, his main priority is you. 

“You doin’ okay?” he asks, and suddenly Lyle already seems out of breath.

“Yeah, m’ fine.” I say and reassuringly tap his shoulder.

He gives me a small nod. Taking one of my hands Lyle carefully interwines our fingers and then presses our connected hands against the pillow next to my head. I sigh as he gently pulls out, pushing back in as carefully as he did the first time. He does this until he feels that I have relaxed more. Once Lyle starts to slowly pick up the pace, the movement inside me is feeling pleasurable. I start breathing heavily. Listening to Lyle’s uneven breathing and watching his lustful expression is really turning me on, making my pussy almost flutter around him. 

I gasp when his tip hits a particularly good spot inside me. It makes me instinctively clench my legs around him and roll my hips upwards. 

“That good?” Lyle teases with a grin, noticing my body’s response.

“Shit- Lyle…” I sigh, clenching my fingers down against his hand and raising my free hand to hold on to the pillow. I needed to dig my fingers into something. 

Lyle seemed to not like that I wasn’t touching him and he thrust into me sharply, making my body jolt upwards. I look at him with wide eyes before resting my free hand on his shoulders. The pleasure is building up inside me, making me curl my toes and dig my nails into his back.

Lyle growls with a grin, continuing what he’s doing. He drops his head in the crook of my neck, starting to suck and gently bite down on my skin. Probably wanting to leave hickeys. I’m not going to stop him. 

He didn’t speed up but he angled his hips in a way that sent shivers down my spine and made me arch my back off the bed. 

“Lyle-” I whisper “I’m close.” My breathing is heavy and my words are barely heard but he catches them in time. 

“You doin’ so well f’ere me, baby. So fuckin’ good.” he groans, resuming to nibble on my neck and collarbone.

My mouth drops open in bliss and I’m gasping and whimpering beneath Lyle. 

He dips his head down once more with a smug smile, kissing me to keep us both quiet as our orgasms approach. It’s the best way to shut me up. 

His thrusts deepen and I feel his abdomen nudge my clit every time he bottoms out. It’s enough to send me over the edge. My mouth hangs open again but Lyle continues to kiss me, muffling my silent moan. Not once do his movements falter. He rides out my orgasm until my legs stop clamping down around him. 

“Where do you want it?” he asks between heavy breaths, looking at me with desperate eyes because he can’t hold it back. 

“In me.” I whisper, pressing the side of my face against his. I hear him let out a muffled moan, pressing his lips together to not be too loud. 

I missed him and everything normal so much, I needed this feeling of closeness. I was about to die a few days back so I really didn’t mind.

I gather my breath and Lyle speeds up his thrusts to push himself over the edge. To help him, I open my legs wider to give him better access. The next thrust makes him growl in pleasure and within seconds, his body spasms. Lyle bites down onto my shoulder, holding me down with both his arms and placing his body weight on me while he rams himself as deep inside my pussy as possible and shoots his cum inside me. He holds me down, not letting me move until he’s done. 

Once he’s emptied his balls inside me, his grip on me loosens and we lock eyes once more. 

Slowly, I lift my hand and cup his cheek. The small act of affection makes him smile softly and he presses his forehead against mine, closing his eyes to enjoy the moment. I smile up at him, unable to contain my happiness. I really liked him and I was happy this happened between us. 

Lyle grinned down at me, seeming to read my thoughts. I pulled him in for a quick peck on the lips and then he slowly lifted himself up, pulling out. His hands traced my body as he prepared to lay back down next to me. 

“So pretty. You’re mine baby.” he says, leaning down about to rest next to me once more before his movements stop. 

“Don’t know about that, Corporal.” Said a voice from behind us. It spoke louder than we did and I immediately recognised it to be the Colonel. Quaritch was awake and had probably heard everything. 

I gasp and Lyle freezes, staring at me for a second before sighing. He would have been surprised if you both wouldn’t have woken anyone up. 

Quaritch walks up to my bed, glancing at Lyle before once again fixating his gaze on me. My hands are gripping onto the edge of the blanket, holding it above my chest. The Colonel is my superior and my face flushes in embarrassment in response to being caught doing that. 

“Didn’t know you’d be this temptin’ sweet’eart.” He grinned, flashing his fangs. Quaritch was a bold man not afraid of judgement. 

“I’m sorry sir, I-” 

“Almost irresistible.” he mutters under his breath, making me stop mid-sentence. 

Lyle is next to me, silently watching the situation unfold. He knows the Colonel well and is aware that he isn’t just having you to himself tonight. 

Quaritch once again glances at Lyle and his gaze is more of a warning sign now. Lyle takes the hint, reaching for his sweatpants before moving off the bed. He looks down at me in a way to make sure I’m doing okay. I was surprised by the Colonel’s forwardness but Lyle was making sure I’m not uncomfortable. I know that if he would feel like I’m in danger, he would do absolutely everything in his power to protect me from that. 

But it was Quaritch in the room with us. Definitely no stranger. I trusted Quaritch as well, I just had to be more respectful and presentable around him because he was a high-ranking officer.

“I was ready to kill Jake the second I’d see him.” Quaritch says, continuing to peer down at me. “Rip ‘im open and burn his body.”

If this is how Quaritch dirty talks then someone help me. 

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you, darlin’. I can promise you that with my life.”

His words are deep and while processing them, he steps closer. Quaritch sits down on the bed so that we are at eye level. 

“I want ‘te make it up to you.” he says, gazing deeply into my eyes. 

I watch him and his words send a shiver down my spine. Quaritch is very much attractive but he is also so much more intimidating than Lyle. I feel nervous being so exposed around him but something about the way he is so gentle with me and the soft look on his face makes me want this to happen.

“You trust me?” Quaritch asks. He looks so genuine and so real. As if he’d left the Colonel sleeping and what I’m seeing in front of me is just him as Miles. 

“Yes.” I whisper, giving him a light nod. A small smile spreads across his lips. His large hand reaches up to my face and he twirls a small strand of hair that came loose around his fingers before gently tucking it behind my ear. I can’t tear my wide eyes from his. The amazement and surprise that this is happening is still astounding me. 

“I won’t let you down.” he softly says, moving closer to me. “Never again.” 

With that, he firmly presses his lips against mine, pulling my face to his. 

I accept, letting my body relax against his. 

Quaritch’s hands are on me, pulling me closer to him and within a matter of seconds, he’s hooked his palms under my thighs and has managed to tug me onto his lap. He was wearing nothing but his pants and I enjoyed the warm skin-to-skin contact our chests have.

The Colonel must have been watching or listening to Lyle and me because I felt his fully erect dick under me. It made me lose my mind. My fucking Colonel, the person I always look up to seems to have it bad for me. 

His fingers dig into my hips and he presses me down against him, pulling away from the kiss and growling. I gasp, letting my eyes flutter closed while he grabs my queue, tugging my head back to expose my neck. His lips attach themselves to my neck as a small distraction while his other hand reaches between us and pushes down his pants. 

He’s sucking and nibbling the skin of my neck, making me arch myself into him at the pleasant feeling. I’m not surprised that the Colonel is so skilled. A man of that age has a lot of experience. I just never thought I would be on the receiving end of it. 

He pushes his pants down to his mid-thigh, far enough to free his aching cock from the restraints of the fabric. Once again, he forces my hips closer against his, pressing my already wet pussy against the sheath of his length. It’s warm and at this point, my core is too. Our bodies radiate heat while our senses are flooded with desire and lust. 

His eyes seem to have turned a shade darker. Miles looks animalistic. His gaze is predatory, showing me his hunger and thirst for more. It doesn’t scare me though. He’s deeply buried in the moment but it’s still him who I trust. 

His needs seem to be screaming at him and without further ado, both his hands latch themselves to my sides, lifting me up a little. I’m supporting myself by standing on my knees but it seems like Quaritch still wants full control, despite our position. 

I feel his tip against my entrance. But this time mine and Lyle’s cum is slowly dripping out and onto him, covering his throbbing erection. 

When I look up at him, Miles is grinning. There’s something so dirty about all of this but it’s just exciting me more. My thoughts are interrupted when Quaritch stops holding me up, guiding me down him until I’m fully seated on his lap again with him buried deep inside my pussy. 

“F-fuck…” he curses, hissing the words through his teeth. “I knew you’d feel amazing.” 

His whisper makes me shudder in anticipation. At this point, I didn’t even want this for my own pleasure. It felt great, but pleasing the Colonel was better. 

He started to rock my hips against him, before eventually lifting and sinking my hips up and down him. Watching his expression relax and tense up in pleasure and listening to his grunts and pants was all I really wanted. 

Perhaps I had missed him so much too, that I just wanted to please him and feel him close to me. 

His pace grew harder. Even though Quaritch cares about me just as much as Lyle does, he isn’t as gentle. Only now do I realise how thankful I am that Lyle went slow with me. I would be in pain if he wouldn’t have been as careful. 

“Miles-” I gasp in shock when I feel what I think is another orgasm approaching. This hasn’t happened before. I thought I wouldn’t be able to cum so quickly after an orgasm but it seems that Quaritch really can work magic. 

“Come on baby, don’t hold back on me.” he grunts, enthusiastically bucking his hips up to meet mine. I hold on to his shoulders for balance, needing something to ground me through my bliss. It was slowly becoming too much. 

Suddenly, his hand reaches between us and starts rubbing circles around my clit, occasionally pressing down on it and applying the right amount of pressure. I whimper, closing my eyes while my hips stutter in their place. 

“It’s okay, I got you.” he whispers, pressing the side of his face against my neck while he continues to spear me down onto him. The light suddenly turns on, lighting up the entire room but we’re both too absent-minded at the moment to care. 

Within seconds, I’m cumming around him. My pussy clenches in a way that makes Miles hiss and my knees go weak, no longer supporting my trembling legs, He curses before thrusting me down him as far as possible and spilling himself into me. His arm is snaked around my waist supportively, holding me to him as our orgasms rip through our bodies. 

“There you go.” he coos into my ear, slowly stilling my hips and just holding me while both of us pant for air.

I cover my eyes, squinting from the sudden illumination coming from the lamp. 

“Sorry.” I hear Lyle chuckle and I open my eyes to look at him. “Wanted to see your face.”

I just nod weakly, resting my head on Quaritch’s shoulder. I inhale his strong, musky scent and it comforts me, seeming to make all my worries go away. His arms were still cradling me and I could have fallen asleep like this. But it seems that others could not. 

“How you doin’, sweetheart?” Miles asks, carefully letting me go and pulling away so that he could look at me again. My eyes are half-lidded again but not from lust, from sleepiness. 

“Tired.” I mumble, dropping my head flimsily. 

“Can you go again?”

His words make my mind halt for a few seconds. I look up at him in confusion. Again?

He reads my expression before nodding his head, motioning to something behind me. I slowly turn around and with the light on, I see Mansk and Lopez are awake. Ja and Prager are awake too, but Mansk and Lopez are closer to us. They’re looking at me the way Quaritch looked at me when I was still with Lyle. 

Lopez is standing and Mansk has moved off his bed. Quaritch caresses my waist before gently moving me off of him. I stare at him with wide eyes and he smiles. 

“You’ll be okay. I know you can take it.” he says, slowly getting up. Quaritch does know me well enough to know my limits. Not sexual limits, just physical limits, especially in the gym. But it seems as though that has some similarity to this. 

Suddenly, another bed is pushed together against mine by Lopez. Mansk is now standing next to me with his eyes on me. 

“Hey princess,” he smirks and I swallow nervously. His smile widens and he looks up at Lopez before pulling his own tank top over his head. 

“Don’t worry, baby.” Lopez coos, settling down on the now double bed. 

“We’re gonna take real good care of you.” Mansk adds, sitting next to me. His arms tangle around me and he nuzzles his nose against my cheek, inhaling deeply. 

“Ya smell so good.” he purrs and I just weakly lean against him. 

Mansk and Lopez are both entranced by your scent. It’s sweet and lures them to you. But they can smell Lyle and Quaritch on you. Naturally, their instincts tell them to get rid of that smell and replace it with their own. 

All the recoms are even more protective of you now than ever before. Not only because of what happened to you previously but also because you are the only female in the group now. You’re all that they really have now and can protect. 

“I’m goin’ first.” Mansk tells Lopez who clearly has an issue with that. 

“No fuckin’ way, I’m not waitin’ anymore. Been awake since the beginning, I can’t just fuckin’ watch again.” Lopez protests, making my ears perk up. 

He’s been awake since the beginning? Maybe Lyle and I really need to learn to be more stealthy. Or not, this isn’t such a bad outcome either. 

Lopez lays down, reaching for me and pulling me on top of him. I don’t bother to resist. Why would I? 

Mansk doesn’t let Lopez take me away that quickly and within seconds, he’s behind me. 

I’m on all fours, watching them and hoping they don’t start tugging me back and forth. 

Behind my back, Mansk and Lopez exchange looks and scan the position we’re all currently in. Lopez grins up at him before directing his attention back to me. 

“Hey, mami.” he smirks, running his thumb over my lips. I stare down at him and my partly fucked out expression has him grinning. 

“We’re gonna try something, yeah?” he asks, and I just stare at him with confusion. I’m not even embarrassed about being bare in front of them all, so I can’t protest, I just listen and go with whatever they say. 

“Give ‘er a safeword.” Mansk says behind me. His large hands are gently skimming the curves of my hips and ass before one wraps around my tail, moving it up to fully expose me to him. 

“Say ‘red’ when you’re at your limit, okay baby?” Lopez explains, watching me with a devilish grin as I nod. 

“Okay.” I whisper and he nods up at Mansk. Whatever they are planning, I assume it won’t be easy for me to take so I try to distract myself. Perfect, right in front of me. I examine Lopez’s tattooed chest of his toned body laying beneath me. I raise a hand and start gently outlining the inked words under his skin. 

Lopez and Mansk are shuffling beneath and behind me. My distraction causes me to not notice them remove their pants. Lopez however feels the small touch and smiles up at me. 

“You’re so cute, mami.” He whispers, making me lock eyes with him again. “Promise to make you feel good.” 

I nod and he looks behind me again. They’re moving my hips and legs to try to position me correctly while I once again stare at Lopez’s tattoos.

There’s a pressure being applied against my core again, but now it feels normal to me I don’t even turn around to see what exactly they are doing. 

Lopez’s hand comes up and gently wraps around my throat, holding me in place. I lean into his touch, letting myself be fully at their mercy. 

Suddenly, I feel what I think is one of them push themselves inside me. I gasp, eyes shooting wide when I feel the burning stretch of my walls adjusting. My breath seems to get caught in my throat.

“Nnhgh-” I whine, clamping my teeth tightly shut and squeezing my eyes closed. 

“Fuckk,” Mansk breathily exhales, steadying himself against my ass. 

Lopez’s ears are strained back, his fangs are bared and his eyebrows furrowed in bliss. The realisation hits me. Both of them are inside me at the same time. 

“Shit- you’re so tight baby.” he groans, placing his free hand on my waist and squeezing my flesh. Mansk is holding my lower hip and tail. 

I’m struggling to breathe. My arms spread wider to the sides to support me in case they start moving. I ball my fingers into fists around the bedsheets, trying to deal with the pain. 

“Give ‘er a minute.” I hear Quaritch tell them. He must be watching my expression. I see Lopez nod and I assume Mansk does the same. They weren’t planning on moving without your permission anyway.

My head drops and I calm my breathing, inhaling and exhaling deeply. It burned, causing tears to prick in the corners of my eyes. Mansk is gently rubbing soothing circles onto my belly while being hunched over me. 

After a few minutes of that and Lopez whispering soft praises and compliments to me, the stretch is gone.

“It’s- better now.” I say with a small sob which I quickly swallow down so that it goes unheard. They trust my judgement, exchanging looks before my hips are nudged forward and they pull out, leaving just a little of their dicks inside. 

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, steadying myself on the mattress above Lopez once again before they thrust back in, in synch. 

They share their rhythm, making sure to go slower to not overwhelm me. But I’m already overwhelmed. My core is throbbing from overstimulation and my eyes are tearing up. 

But their touches are gentle. Their hands do not fail to pleasingly caress my body while they thrust into me. My hair is moved to the side to reveal the side of my neck that hasn’t been marked by either Lyle or Quaritch. Lopez presses his tongue against my pulse point before gently sucking his own hickeys into my skin. 

Mansk groans behind me, letting his head fall back. I feel so stuffed, I know that if I even manage to have another orgasm, it will come quickly because they are reaching spots I never knew I had. 

“Fuck, princess you feel so good.” Mansk praises me. “Doin’ so well.”

I whimper in response, feeling glad I can please them at least. This is turning into one big love-making session. I missed everyone so much and seems they did too, we just can’t get enough of each other. 

“Shit- ‘m not gonna last-” Lopez growls. It must feel tighter than usual for them. 

My body is being nudged forwards with every thrust. 

“Come on, mami. Cum for us.” Lopez encourages me.

“I- I can’t,” I whine, feeling a tear spill from my eyes. Lopez wipes it away, holding my cheek to support my lolling head. 

“You can do it, one more.” he whispers breathlessly into my ear. Under me, he starts to roll his hips so that they grind against my clit with every thrust. I whimper, instinctively pushing back against them which makes Mansk growl. 

Their thrusts are more sloppy and desperate, signalling they must be close. Lopez doesn’t stop his rhythm and soon I’m on the edge of my third orgasm. 

“I’m gonna-” I gasp “I’m gonna cum-” 

“Fuckin’ right, let go, mami.” he grunts. 

My moans spur them on and in seconds my entire body is shaking once more. The way my walls hug them makes it almost impossible for Mansk and Lopez to move and their both goners too. 

“Grippin’ me so well, baby.” Mansk hisses, digging his fingers into my hips. 

I’m seeing stars and my vision blacks out as I feel both men shoot their thick ropes of cum deep inside me, once again filling me up. 

At this point, I’m panting again and my arms give out. I slowly go limp against Lopez, laying on top of him. Behind me, Mansk pulls out to ease me from the overstimulation. Lopez then follows and I’m wondering whether I’ve lost the senses in my legs. They won’t stop trembling. 

“Holy shit.” Lopez mumbles, patting my back while my non-functioning body is close to either falling asleep or passing out again. 

“That deserves a fuckin’ reward.” Lyle says, sitting on his bed. 

“I’ll give ‘er a reward.” Ja says. His voice comes from somewhere behind me. My tail stops swaying as I replay the words in my head. I lift myself up a little and look at Lopez, then at Quaritch. 

“You said one more.” I whine in protest to Lopez who looks at me apologetically. He himself then looks at Quaritch, seeming unsure whether I can actually manage another round. 

Quaritch doesn’t say or do anything, leaving it up to me to decide. 

“Only if you want to, Y/N.” Prager says, coming around to the head of the bed while Lopez slowly lifts me off of him. He looks at Ja who nods in agreement. 

“I feel like such a slut.” I say, cupping my face in embarrassment and shame. I have never had intercourse with this many people right after the other. 

“Don’t. You’re perfect.” Prager says, lowering himself onto the bed in front of me. 

“Unless you’re into that. Then do.” Lopez jokes, biting his tongue and playfully slapping my thigh before getting up. 

Mansk smirks and Ja chuckles. 

“Can you go one last time?” Prager asks. He was such a sweet person. Even before, he would always check up on me, for example when it seemed like I was struggling in training. 

I wanted to please him and Ja too. 

I nod slowly, wiping a previously shed tear from my face. “Yeah. Just- please be gentle.” I ask him and Ja. Both men nod and Ja grins, taking his position behind me. 

“Sure thing, baby.” Prager smiles. My head is spinning a little but I manage to hear them push down their pants. To my surprise, Prager stays in front of me.

I look up at him and he gently parts my lips with his thumb. Oh. Sure. Hopefully, I won’t choke and die. 

“Watch the fangs.” I softly say, my voice a little raspy from the moaning. Prager nods, tracing one of my fangs with his finger before tilting my chin upwards to him. Ja is already covering himself in all the mixed cum from before, lubricating his member for easier access. It’s not really necessary because I’m stretched out for today but I’m letting him do whatever. 

I open my mouth for Prager and let him just use my head and hold my jaw open. I’m barely strong enough to continue standing on all fours. Luckily, Ja tucks his arm under my waist to hold me up while the other presses down against the bed. His hips roll forwards and with a loud squelching sound, he pushes in. 

“Fuckin’ hell, baby. What’d they do to ya?” Ja huffs out a light laugh, watching the cum flow out as he replaces the empty space inside me with his dick. 

“A better job than whatever you’re doin’.” Quaritch fires back. Prager chuckles, knowing he’s referring to the way Ja was covering himself in slick just moments before. Ja huffs in annoyance before returning his attention to me. His thrusts are a little harder again and I want to say something but my mouth is filled with Prager’s dick. He’s gripping a handful of hair around my queue to lift my mouth off his dick and push me back on it. I fight back any need to choke or cough and relax my body as much as possible, letting them use me any way they wanted. Perhaps, things went by quickly because my mind is so hazed and I’m so fucked out. 

Just to add the cherry on top, I hollow my cheeks around Prager’s member, creating a suction that has his hips stuttering. To give something to Ja, I arch my back against him, spreading my legs open a little more to help him out. Both of them are grunting while my moans and whimpers are muffled. I can feel the cum dripping down my inner thighs. It spreads onto Ja’s every time he bottoms out and lets his skin slap against mine. 

I’m surprised with how I’m managing things and I plan on just having them finish but then Ja starts to rub his fingers between my dripping folds. He moves them with the same rhythm he’s thrusting into me with and my eyes go wide. I flinch away from his touch because the oversensitivity is completely making me tremble again. 

“We promise, this is the last one baby. Just one more time.” Ja whispers, speeding up his own pistoning hips.

I close my teary eyes, inhaling deeply through my nose to stay composed.

“Just for us-” he grunts. I’m not sure whether he expects me to nod or give him a thumbs up, but quite frankly, I am incapable of doing either at the moment. I just take it, knowing this is the last round. 

He continues his rapid thrusts. Ja would have never thought he would see you like this. Everyone is on the same page about that. You all knew each other well but no one saw this coming. It just happened in the heat of the moment. That doesn’t mean, many haven’t fantasised about being with you before though. They definitely have.

Prager bites down on his lip to muffle his moan while I swirl my tongue along the base of his dick. 

“Shit-” he whines, dropping his head back in bliss. His body tenses and he thrusts his hips forward into my mouth as far as possible before spilling his load down my throat. 

Behind me, Ja slapped my ass which made me jolt forward and swallow down more of Prager’s length. I suckled on his dick while he came, making sure to ‘milk’ him dry, which made him shudder. Prager’s moan helped send me over the edge and I couldn’t believe I was cumming again. 

Ja pulled me closer to him by the base of my tail, forcing himself as deep into my pussy as he can go before he himself finally experiences his orgasm. 

The squelching and slapping sounds finally died down as they gathered their breath. Prager pulled out, holding my cheek in his palm to let me breathe properly too. Ja mimics his movements, removing himself from inside me. Both men gather themselves and return to their senses while I just collapse onto the bed, falling sideways against the mattress. 

“Ah, shit. There she goes.” Lyle chuckles, but he quickly stands up to come to my aid. 

I groan in a low voice, feeling how all my limbs go weak.

“How ‘bout one more round?” Lyle asks, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

I look up at him in disbelief. “You’re fucking kidding.” I warn, knowing I cannot even move right now. 

He chuckles again. “I’m only messin’ with ya.” 

“Not funny. I think I need to go back to the hospital.” I grumble, curling my legs against my chest and rolling over to my side. 

“You did so well, darlin’. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” Quaritch adds, standing next to Lyle and peering down at my weak self. 

Mansk had gone to wet a warm cloth and he’s back now, carefully parting my legs to clean up the mess that was made. I let him roll me on my back to clean my thighs too. He smiles at me before passing the cloth to Ja who needs it too. 

Lyle reaches for my clothes and with the help of Lopez, they put them back on me. 

“Thank you.” I mumble while leaning against Lyle.

“Geez, no need to thank for this. What you did is something worth thankin’ for.”  he grins, sitting me up slowly. 

“Let’s get you to bed.” Quaritch says, bending over to pick me up. He holds me bridal style against his chest and I just hand there. My eyes are closing, so I don’t pay attention to where he is carrying but I remember my bed being on the other side of the room. 

The other recoms stare as the Colonel carries you to his bed. 

“That’s where she’s sleeping?” Ja asks. 

“Yeah. Problem?” Quaritch responds, lightly snapping again. 

“Not if it’s only tonight.” 

Quaritch frowns at Ja before answering. “We’ll switch every night.” 

No one complained about that rule. Everyone was tired and so we went to bed. I was already fast asleep when Quaritch lay down with me, resting me on his chest to ensure I wouldn’t wake up with another nightmare. The lights went off but I knew nothing bad could happen to me. Not with them.

(Writing this used up all my mental energy, I need a nap rn. Let me know if you liked it! If you spot any spelling mistakes, feel free to point them out and I will correct them)

Tag List: @ken-dala @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @numarusworld @number1gal @jatwow

[lesorus]

A thing I noticed growing up having a lot of physical altercations with my brother is how much defending yourself as a woman is looked down upon. If my older brother that started bodybuilding at 13 pushed or hit me, sure he would get a scold, being told he doesn't know his strength, but when i started digging my nails into his arms and scratching him somehow, i became responsible for defending myself. I wasn't just abusing power like he was, I was called a snake, vicious. To the point my mother made him hold me down while she cut my nails so short you could see my nail beds as punishment at 14 and i wasnt allowed to grow them out again. Scratching and biting was for animals she'd say, as if hitting wasn't. Well sure I had the option to hit him back, but the taller, stronger he grew the more laughable it was.

Then i started screaming in prevention, before he hit me, when he was threatening me, if i felt scared or overwhelmed. It was a good tactic because if anyone was home they would run there and intervene. He would say he didn't even hit me yet, that I was acting and a liar, and sure I was but I couldnt really defend myself against him otherwise could I? Nobody would care if I said he was threatening me but surely the blood curdling screams I would let out worked well enough. Until my parents realised I was lying, an actress they'd call me, a filthy liar. As if I was supposed to get hit and cry on the ground until i waited they do something.

If i broke something of his in retaliation or threatened to hurt his reputation, hurt him in one of the few ways i could, i was evil, a little demon. I was always punished, but he never got the same treatment for pushing me around, or using his physical strength to hurt me, because whatever I could do in emotional or material damage was sure worse than me crying in pain. Oh and sure, I was called the girl crying wolf whenever I was physically injured because I had faked being hurt before in order to have an adult intervene.

I was only worthy of help if i was completely helpless and a full victim, the second I tried to defend myself I became responsible, because somehow self defense was always worse than the act that prompted it. Because the scratches I gave were comparable to bruises, lies were worse than serious threats of violence, ripping a shirt was way worse than getting beaten to the ground. His violence was an excess of his masculinity to my parents, deserving of a scold but not of serious punishment, it was natural for him. Self defense and fear on my part was animalistic and wrong. A woman is supposed to be pure, a victim if she wants help.

[saltymongoose]

ok i have a request: phobos with a shy player who hides behind him to avoid talking to people. extra bonus points if they also tend to get overstimulated and will just hang out in his office because they know nobody will disturb them

Of course! Here you go Anon, Happy New Year! <3

Phobos' Reaction to a Shy!Player

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior, Referenced Violence)

The moment you first show some signs of extreme shyness, Phobos’ concern is obvious. The sight of you ducking behind him when two of his agents passed by made him wonder if they'd committed the sin of scaring you in some way.

He’ll ask you about it in a soft manner, ever polite and gentlemanly. “Have my men done anything to make you wary, Your Grace? I assure you, I’ll punish them appropriately for their transgression, whatever it might be."

(Perhaps he was a little too convinced that they did something. But the Director couldn’t stand for anyone or anything making you too scared to be there at the Nexus’ headquarters, too scared to be near him. Plus, he couldn’t stand it if these nobodies made his organization look bad to you. Not when all of this was for your favor.)

You wave your hands and try to assuage his concern, explaining that you were just a bit overwhelmed by others’ attention and that his personnel weren’t at fault for anything. (Luckily for them.) The Director merely hummed in response, but you could tell he was put at ease by the way his hand fell from the pommel of the sword at his side.

After that, however, Phobos learns to appreciate your shyness each time it rears its head. The way it causes you to go to him for comfort is something he can’t help but adore, not only because it serves him with that attention from you he so craves, but also because it shows just how much you trust him.

Really, it’s enough to make him swoon. Witnessing his God showing so much faith in him and his capabilities, seeing how you go to him and him alone for comfort—it's far more than any simple vessel of yours could hope for.

Phobos will do his best to ensure that you never regret your choice, and he’ll be infinitely welcoming and understanding whenever you feel the need to escape from others’ attention.

He’ll place himself between you and anyone else who enters your vicinity, acting as a barrier should you not want to spend your time mingling with his lessers. (Besides, he really doesn’t think that they deserve an inkling of your attention anyway, even if they are his underlings.)

If you do decide to socialize, he’ll try to keep you close regardless. He figures it would be best to do so in case anyone tries to get too comfortable around you or dares to upset you.

Needless to say, the workers of the Nexus Core are never truly at ease whenever they’re around you; it’s impossible to be. Not when their Director is leering in their direction like he’s a second away from violently lunging at them. And they honestly believe Phobos enjoys the discomfort they feel around him. (And they’d be right.)

On the off chance that Phobos cannot accompany you, he’ll have one of his officers do it instead (likely a Tower Guard or another one of his more powerful units). They’ll be under strict orders concerning their treatment of you, of course.

Phobos absolutely loves it when you hide away in his office to get some proper peace and quiet. Just being able to look up from his work and see you lazing about on the seat closest to his or reading a book he’s gifted you makes him feel all the more warm in your presence. Perhaps it’s the joy of being in your sphere, or simply the gratefulness he has that you chose him and his place as your getaway, but the butterflies in his chest can’t seem to die down when you’re so close.

He’ll encourage you to stay more often and for longer each time you drop by. Phobos will also use a myriad of reasons to try to convince you if you hesitate; whether it be his need for your tactical knowledge or him “accidentally” ordering someone to bring your favorite snacks/drink to his office before you even entered. Either way, you’ll find yourself having some obligation to spend more time with him. Not like you mind it that much; Phobos is surprisingly good company (to you, at least), and it stops you from having to mingle with others when you don’t wish to.

Overall, Phobos is surprisingly soft and doting when faced with your shyness - even affectionate (and clingy) at times. However, that's to be expected; it's a side only you could ever bring out of him, after all. For the Director of the Nexus Core, treating you any different would be a crime worthy of the worst consequences imaginable.

[furiousgoldfish]

I've noticed that when living with other people (roommates), I easily get stressed to the point of panic and mortification, if there's a tense silence in the air, and nobody is talking to me or reacting positively to my attempts to communicate. This very often is the situation, since I'm living with roommates I don't know well, and who do not have any incentive to be friendly, or are generally just not very polite people. It is normal and fine that we all stick to our own business and ignore each other. But it gets me stressed and I find myself feeling like I am despised by them, even if they don't do anything to me, or complain about me at all.

I'm generally feeling more relaxed with the rare roommates who are more social and accept my invitations to watch a movie, or go to a walk together, or just have a conversation; suddenly it's all okay and I can go on without second-guessing if something is extremely wrong. But this is rare and most of the time I can't count on it.

I believe that this is happening because of the past 'shunning' or 'the silent treatment' abuse tactic, I believe the two are very similar. Shunning is generally something that happens within a cult; when a certain member is 'disobedient', which means, they question something, complain about something, try to do something against the rules (which is in reality a completely normal thing to do), or just find themselves at the wrong side of the leaders, they'll be shut out from any and all communications. Other members will not be allowed to look at them, talk to them, help them, they'll sometimes be forced to preform some humiliating activity or be isolated and locked up until they've managed to 'redeem themselves' (whenever the leaders decide it's been enough and the shunned member is unlikely to 'misbehave' again). The function of this is to not only stop the victimized member from being allowed to think and act freely, but also to scare everyone else who starts thinking into the 'forbidden direction', they will not dare to voice it seeing someone being punished so harshly for that same behaviour. The victim will feel completely alone against the world, despised, and eventually they'll be forced to say that they're in the wrong, even if their original 'crime' was something completely normal, logical and human.

I believe that the 'silent treatment' is almost the same thing, only it's happening in more intimate setting, within the victim and the abuser directly. It usually happens after the abuser does an act of abuse, or the victim does something that is perfectly okay and normal but the abuser wants them to not be able to do that, that's when they start the 'silent treatment', to convince the victim they're in the wrong, they're responsible for whatever just went down, and they now need to suffer the consequences, which is the abuser withholding any attention, affection, familiarity or communication from them. It usually happens after the victim has already been isolated from everyone else they could rely on, so it means the victim is effectively cut off from the world. The victim will usually be stuck in this isolation, rejection and neglect until the abuser decides they want or need something, or until they apologize, accept blame, and promise to be 'obedient' to the abuser. It's a slow method of brainwashing, convincing someone they deserve a painful punishment for doing nomal things, that the abuser doesn't like, or just to convince them to take responsibility for the abuse that the abuser did out of their own volition.

And my parents did that a lot. I would often be subjected to assault, I never knew exactly why, only that my father was in a bad mood, and then all of the family members would not look at me, talk to me, give me food, they would be angry and glaring if I as much as went outside of my room. The message was clear; I was responsible for the abuse, I needed to feel guilty, ashamed, humbled, I needed to accept that the violence was deserved, that it was my fault. I needed to apologize, repent, and be aware that because I caused all this, I was disgusting and monstrous to my entire family to the extent they couldn't even look at me. It was a pretty insane farce to isolate and shun a child because the father is violent and assaults the child, and we all needed to pretend this is 100% child's fault, and father was in fact, forced to do it because the child is just, so bad (wow I feel so sorry for him, if only he could control his own actions, how sad that a child completely controls an adult in this fantasy).

(And the child is controlling the adult in the way that forces adult to assault the child, thats the exact thing children want from adults for sure. Not, I don't know, candy and freedom. For sure a child would use control to force assault.)

When this was going on, I did feel like every person in the world hates me, and like I was some sort of a monster who couldn't be looked at without disgust. I felt like every part of me was horrifying and ugly, and sometimes it messed with me so much, I felt like even the furniture in the house hated me. I would shut myself in my room and I felt like even the bed and the chair and the desk were hostile, angry, and wanted me to not exist anymore. There was no escape.

I didn't realize until now, but it's possible that every time my roommates are cold, ignoring me, rejecting my friendliness, I might be re-living that feeling of being shunned again. It's not like after living that life for so long, I can just be normal and okay with being ignored and treated with silence again. One of my roommates was leaving the other day, and since the stakes are no longer existent, I asked them if they hated me the entire time, because they sometimes wouldn't even greet me. They told me 'no, I was exhausted from having to socialize at work, by the time I got home I didn't have the energy to look at anyone'. Which was of some comfort, but not something I would assume. They basically had no complaints, but I felt like I was being despised most of the time. I hope I can eventually be normal about this. Suffering for no reason is not helpful. But I also don't know if any person as isolated as me would be bothered by being ignored and rejected, and not shown basic politeness, and my painful experience of it is maybe normal and not that odd. I just get to have extra pain because it's triggering.

[devilmademewriteit]

completely inspired by a gif set u reblogged. Javi helping you into a bullet proof/tactical vest. you’re scared and he just says a gentle “arms up” as he secures the velcro. he’s scared as well, doesn’t wanna lose you, doesn’t want you to get hurt. but it’s like the fear, the adrenaline, has your emotions haywire and you look into his eyes as he takes hold of your hand so gently and tells you that you’re gonna be okay, and you just want to kiss him, and he wants to kiss you too, but then it’s time to go, and he tells you “later”

IDK WHAT THIS IS LMFAO Javi brings the slut outta me

you’ve inspired me anon here is a TINY FIC/DRABBLE YEEEEEEEE

pairing: javier peña x fem!afab!reader

warnings: fem!afab!reader; use of pet name ‘sweetheart’; canon-typical allusions to violence; language; ANGSTY POO

omg I can’t believe there’s no smut. GUYS I WROTE SOMETHING WITHOUT SMUT. I loooove writing my javi tho so while im busting my ass working on Salvatore part 3 feel so free to leave me lil thingies like this.

-em<3

—

“Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have, but—”

It was never supposed to be like this.

It was just a summer job — something safe, boring, admin and agendas and addendums. Should’ve known better, taking a government job in the world’s most dangerous city.

She should’ve known better, taking a government job in the world’s most dangerous city. Shit. My chest feels like it’s on fire, burnin’ through kerosene.

Is she gonna clock how unsteady I am?

Javi’s footsteps echo down the nearby hallway; you recognize them immediately, and their slanted, hard-right-drag-left rhythm. He comes lumbering through the door, cradling tactical gear between his big, bulging biceps. God, you’d had… thoughts about those biceps.

Even now, with the embassy under cartel-siege, it’s oh-so-hard to push away the x-rated daydreams swirling inside your stress-addled mind.

And he doesn’t look scared.

Fuck, she looks so scared.

“Here,” he says, extending the protective vest towards you. Gingerly peeling your hips off of the desk at your back, you extend your fingers to greet and grab at the rough, thick canvas. The sheer weight of it makes your heart lurch into your throat. Neither one of you lowers your hands.

The dark-green-death-sweater you’d seen him wear so many times, cursing yourself for registering, for caring about what it meant.

That it meant Peña — schmoozing, cocky, effortlessly crude Javier Peña — was going into the field.

So neither of you let go.

The stupid vest had always served as a kind of divining rod, leading you both to the real source of your constant bickering, your irritation and the look of mutual, unabashed worry you had shared as a soldier came bursting into the office, panting in tune with the sirens, carrying news of the currently unfolding attack.

Caring without meaning to.

Giving a shit without wanting to.

“I-“ you swallow, trailing off, cursing the swelling bubble forming at neck-breaking speed inside your throat, “I don’t know what to do with this.”

Of course she doesn’t. That one’s on me. ‘Thing like her should never have to wear one of these.

Shouldn’t even have to see one of these.

“S’okay,” he mutters, taking the burden of the gear into his hands, brow furrowing into a look of delicate responsibility. “Turn around.”

Under different circumstances, those words might’ve (embarrassingly enough) enticed a very different feeling from you.

Now, they were simply effective.

Acceding, you rotate, painfully slowly as every hair along your spine lifts, one after the other. Peña shuffles, adjusting both himself and the gear to stand close — too close — behind you.

“Arms up, sweetheart.”

You listen, dragging your arms up into the static air, trying to ignore the soft edge in his voice. It reminds you of something.

Something like resistance.

Stifled want.

Desire with a sock shoved down its bone-dry throat.

And it’s so level, so calm. How is he so calm?

Can she tell I’m totally freaking out?

Your shoulders sag under the weight of the vest. Jesus. It’s so much heavier than you’d imagined. Not quite as heavy as the feeling of doom settling over you, grief from the naive sense of safety you’d walked into work with.

Just this morning.

Javi busies himself with the Velcro, uncharacteristically silent. His knuckles brush the insides of your wrists, and you try to resist it — God, you really do — but all efforts to keep those prickling tears at bay are undertaken in vain.

You quiver slightly, face burning in shame.

Is she shaking?

Gentle, unusually gentle when his fingers wrap around your upper arm, spinning you around to face him once more.

“Look at me.”

You do. His shadowed eyes swim, dance, rage with experience, and you’re left envious, wishing that you’d hardened yourself to the world in the same way. How many times had this man woken up, driven to work, drunk his morning coffee and smoked his morning smoke, accepting that it could be his last?

Knowing Peña, he probably found ways not to think about it.

For sure, he didn’t think about it.

But you did.

Every time that vest came out.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, alright?”

It’s an almost whisper, a mere brush of air against your brow. His own creases in earnestness as he utters the pledge.

“How can you do this for a living?”

You don’t mean for it to come out so rough and jagged, hissing for help like a neglected kettle on the stove. Javi offers you a smile of understanding as though remembering his own first time.

Then, before either of you can stop it, he places the flat of his palm to your cheek.

And you can’t keep from noticing how easily the calloused pad of his thumb molds to your complying skin.

“You get used to it,” he returns, and every word is coated, soaked in the sad, tragic truth. “Though this part’s always hard.”

Nothing exists beyond the smell of tobacco on his breath and the total absorption in his eyes. You’re sure the latter is mirrored in your own, too.

Timid, uneasy, begging him to ease the discomfort for you. “What part is this?”

The part where I lie to you. The part where I bubble-wrap the only thing in this country worth protecting into a shitty, almost useless accessory of war.

The part where I remember—

Is it the part where we remember how easily we could lose each other?

And we don’t even have each other, for God’s sake. Lookin’ up at me as if she can trust me, and the only thing I’ve been able to trust for years is that the moment will come, that moment where it all just gets to be too much and fuck—is this it? Maybe—

This is the part where we—

Kiss her, God, I just wanna fuckin’ kiss her—

Kiss?

“Peña! Time to move!”

Murphy’s voice slices — easily — through the tentative moment of uncertainty. It erodes the softness of Javi’s features into that familiar, hardened stone.

His hand drops from your face, but the tracings linger.

If you couldn’t trust the world outside, maybe you could trust Javi inside. Maybe he’d learned to live without something to lean on, but you weren’t yet prepared to go on—

She doesn’t know how much I fuckin’ need her. Or how many times I’ve tried to say it—and in so many ways—but every time I open my goddamn mouth it just comes out… wrong. Like it’s not enough. Like it’s not true that I can finally fuckin’ breathe when she’s… just… existing around me. Like losing her wouldn’t mean goin’ on—

Faithlessly. Radically accepting the confusing, overwhelming uncertainty of the world.

He clears his throat.

“I’ll see you after.”

Your gaze tumbles down, averting the twinge of dishonesty in his own at his promise.

“Yeah—yeah, see you after.”

He backs away without turning. For a moment, you think he’s gearing up to say something. Something like he always says, like, don’t be a fuckin’ idiot, or use your head or maybe even a smile, sweetheart.

But he doesn’t. He just shakes his head, his dark hair tumbling around and exaggerating his hesitation. Although it hurts, you force yourself to watch as he walks away. How he bows his crown, brings a hand up to anxiously rub at the side of his jaw, the roundness of his shoulder responding and near-bulging under the blue cotton.

Admittedly, a kiss from Javier Peña would’ve been nice.

But to be cradled between those arms, wrapped up in him instead of the goddamn tactical gear squeezing, robbing the air from your lungs…

That would’ve been it.

When this is all over, you think to yourself.

And as Javi greets Steve, apologizing for the delay, the hand squeezing his gun feels strangely empty, haunted by the novelty of touching your burning skin.

When this is all over, he thinks to himself.

Anyways, isn’t that what faith is? Making plans for later, as if anyone’s ‘later’ is promised, a guarantee? As if either of you could count on tomorrow?

Yeah, that’s gotta be it.

Joining the gaggle of scared, hopeless government employees, desperate for reassurance, for the realization blooming inside the depths of your knowing; you pause, letting it hit you, translating it into words…

“—I have it.”

—

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

What would push them far enough to kill?

Undertale Sans - Pretty much having really no other choice. Sans is not a killer, he's even one of the most empathetic monsters around. He's against any sort of violence and will always try to talk before anything else. If he has to kill, it's only after being cornered and all his previous attempts went unheard. It's the last solution.

Undertale Papyrus - Unlike what most people think, Papyrus could kill in self-defense or to protect a friend or his family. Very easily, actually, as he has a titanic force that could even knock Undyne's down if he really wanted to. But Papyrus chooses not to use it because his own strength scares him. But that doesn't mean he won't use it if the situation is very urgent and threatening. After all, it's a tactical advantage. No one would expect sweet Papyrus to transform into a warrior in two seconds, which can completely change the issue of a fight. So far, only Flowey is aware of it. It's a secret he intends to keep hidden.

Underswap Sans - Even if he doesn't like that, it happens he has to kill people as a police officer. It's a hard decision to make, with consequences, and being a guy who hates to deal with consequences, Blue will always choose another option if he has the choice. He's quite good at fighting and is often faster than his opponents which helps a lot to disarm someone before they can do more damages.

Underswap Papyrus - He could never. Honey is not a fighter, far from that, and with his anxiety, he could never find the strength to end a life. He's way too empathetic for this, and all sorts of violence makes him sick. Even cornered, he couldn't find the strength to fight back, trying to talk to the last second.

Underfell Sans - He hates that, but he will do it to protect himself or his brother. He killed in the past. He will certainly kill in the future. Red had been hurt too many times to give threatening people a chance because he knows determined people rarely change their mind. Killing before they can is the best he can do. He never kills before someone threatens him or a friend though.

Underfell Papyrus - Underground, he had no limits. Being a target, he didn't have any choice but to kill every person threatening him or his brother, out of fear they make things worse if he let them live another day. A lot of these kills are driven by past traumas of the rare people he trusted and they revealed themselves to be killers in disguise. He promised it would never happen again. On the Surface, he's more reluctant to kill, but he can't help the instincts to kick in once in a while. If he's alone and someone is threatening him, he attacks without remorse.

Horrortale Sans - No, thank you. He's done with all of this. The only reason he could kill is to protect his family, with no hesitation. But most of the time, he's chill. Oak wishes to never kill a human ever again, as it wakes up traumatic memories. He's not the survivor he was Underground anymore, he moved on.

Horrortale Papyrus - He can't kill, not anymore. Willow is deeply traumatized by what he had to do Underground, and the simple sight of blood can send him into a panic attack. He might hurt people in this state, but never to the point of killing them. He refuses to cross that line again. He never wants to hurt someone ever again.

Swapfell Sans - He's a cold-blooded killer. His LV is way too high for him to feel anything anymore when he's taking lives. Since he's still general of the royal guard, he has to kill people and execute some others. That's his job. He doesn't hesitate either to get rid of people that can be a threat to him or his brother. He hates his job, he hates he has to take lives to live a normal life, but what else can he do? His hands are tied.

Swapfell Papyrus - Oh, he can kill when the situation is very desperate and he has no other choice. He's not feeling that much remorse either. Rus grew up thinking murder is a normal way to solve conflicts so... When he can avoid it, he avoids it. If he has no choice, he has no choice. That's life.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He can kill in the blink of an eye. Wine thinks all people against him are possible threats and that it's better to eliminate the threat than wait for it to attack. He doesn't feel any remorse, as he has the higher LV of all skeletons. He's completely disconnected from reality, which makes him so dangerous. To defend himself or his brother, he can do everything. The only reason he's not in prison is because no one managed to arrest him and stay alive longer enough to reach the prison quite honestly.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He can defend himself when needed, but he's far from a killer. If he kills someone, it's purely by accident, trying to save himself or his family. He knows how to do it, Wine taught him to survive, but he could never do it willingly, which is mainly the problem and why Wine had to protect him so much Underground. Coffee is just born in the wrong universe.

[yanderes-galore]

dropping the idea in politely because it won't leave my brain

Fox colm with rabbit hybrid darling

Welp... You will be on constant fight or flight. Except, as you're a rabbit, you're more likely to freeze or run. I decided to make him an Arctic Fox, is that okay?

Yandere! Fox! Colm O'Driscoll with Rabbit! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Possessive behavior, Blood, Biting, Murder, Violence, Isolation, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Mentions of "mate", Suggestive behavior, Blood drinking, Stalking/Hunting, SFW scent kink (?), Forced relationship.

Arctic Foxes are such pretty creatures.

In the winter they're a delightful white color.

In the hotter months they shed their fur into browns, blacks, silvers....

They look like such a pure animal....

But Colm is far from pure.

In the hotter months, Colm's fur on his skin, ears, and tail is a grizzled silver color...

In the winter, he's a hybrid of white and silver fur, fitting for the snow.

Colm is a hybrid who blends in and ambushes prey.

He doesn't hibernate, doesn't rest for anything.

Despite being a fox and not quite on par with a panther hybrid like Dutch, he uses ambush tactics to his advantage.

Many fear him, some in his group even respect him, as even though his fur is a pretty silver or white...

When covered in blood, others see the monster that truly hides beneath all that fur.

To you, Colm always looks like a monster, no matter how groomed.

Then again, as a rabbit...

Every larger hybrid, O'Driscoll or not, looks terrifying.

Colm would have a field day when it comes to a rabbit darling, or any prey animal.

Not many rabbits join the O'Driscoll gang... not for long.

Most who join the gang are predators themselves.

Wolves, coyotes, foxes, wild cats...

Hybrids that know how to hunt.

The only rabbits that were in the group were you and Kieran.

But even Kieran was eventually taken in by the Van Der Linde gang... a gang you heard is much more prey friendly.

Which leaves you, a rabbit, in a nomadic group of predators.

The only reason you're alive is no doubt because Colm.

You've seen how other hybrids view you.

Their gaze is hungry, drool dripping from their lips.

It makes your nose twitch and your ears tilt down.

However, none of them make a move.

Why?

Their leader claims you as his, it's unspoken but nearly every hybrid in the gang knows it.

With a rabbit obsession, Colm simultaneously views you as prey... and a mate.

Your "bond" is complicated.

Even Colm isn't sure why he likes you so much.

When he sees you hiding in your tent like it's a den, eyes large and scared, it ignites a hunger in Colm.

Colm finds you intriguing.

He both wants to bite you, savoring your taste...

Yet he also wants to taste you in other ways.

Colm loves to study your behavior.

How you look all nervous in the camp...

How you tense when he sniffs you, tail swaying as he watches you twitch.

It's obvious with how Colm acts towards you, he's claimed you.

Your other bunny friend got caught by that damn panther.

Leaving you to deal with the arctic fox you call a leader.

Colm tends to blend in on his hunts.

So even if you run like the little bunny you are... Colm will hunt you.

He'll stalk you through woods, swamp, or snow....

Then, when you think you're safe, sitting down to rest.

Colm will pounce and drag you back to camp, leaving you littered in bloody bites.

At camp, he makes an effort to tease you.

He'll bat your twitching nose with his hand or make comments about rabbits.

Such as... what rabbits are good for....

Colm is sadistic when it comes to you.

Often ordering you to his tent, wrapping around your smaller body to nibble and lap at your skin.

You're covered in his spit and scent.

It's pungent enough to ward off other hybrids wanting a taste.

Grooming/Cleaning your fur when it comes to Colm is... dangerous.

It quickly goes from cleaning you... to having a taste.

He can't help himself.

You're such a cute rabbit.

The reason I chose arctic fox is because it makes it easier for him to blend in with his surroundings... and they don't hibernate.

So while you're all tired during the winter, he's energized.

You can't hide in those snowy mountains... you'll freeze and the cold is in his element.

Colm killing other humans or hybrids is a sight burned into your mind.

If one of his boys gets out of line, thinking they can have a taste of his prized rabbit...

They're mauled.

The entire time you're shaking in your tent, seeing red coat the fox's fur as he stalks closer to you.

Naturally he's possessive of you... you're his mate and prey.

Every escape attempt ends the same, you being dragged back weak with Colm's mouth bloody.

He's quite addicted to your taste.

If you want to add the HC of hybrids swapping to animal form...

I can imagine Colm dragging your rabbit form back to camp as his fox form.

You're carried by the scruff of your neck as he runs through the snow and dirt.

The only reason you'd use such a form is because you're faster...

Yet, of course, Colm is also faster as a fox...

He also has more stealth than you.

Colm may not devour you completely, but you are well marked and scented.

He wouldn't let anyone have you.

Not even Dutch... that dreaded panther.

Colm had fun killing off Dutch's little feline mate after Dutch killed his fox kin....

But Colm would slaughter Dutch's entire gang if that panther thought of touching his rabbit.

As a rabbit... you are not treated as his equal.

Colm is both your savior and your downfall.

He prevents other hybrids from harming you... but at the cost of being his.

It doesn't matter if you're incompatible with him for being his mate...

He claimed you as his prey... chose you as his mate...

You're his... He won't leave anyone alive long enough to disagree.

[hina-hina]

König and his s/o that's like always super nice and kind to everyone but then the moment they step onto the field they turn horrifying? Like deathly silent would prolly snap your neck in half with their bare hands type

Such an interesting request, friend! Thank you so much for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! (～￣▽￣)～

Wow so this turned into something completely different, but I still hope you like it!

This work is not beta-read!

→ COD Masterlist

|| König With a Nice but Scary S/O ||

Tags: Fluff, Scary!Reader, Established Relationship, Soft, Cleaning each others wounds, Kinda Sad, Comfort, Caretaking, König is Babygirl, Short.

Warnings: vague mention of blood and violence

Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic

I sort of thing he would be the same in a way

I think he can get quite scary when he is out on the field, in the heat of battle

But, while he is like this on the battlefield, I imagine your scariness would be unpredictable

Like, one minute you can be the nicest person on the planet and then someone gets on your bad side and it's downhill from there

I also imagine you being really protective of König

Like, if a rookie comes in thinking they can poke fun at him due to his quite, anxious nature, you immediately step in

They start warning each other not to say anything mean to König, then the rookies get surprised when they say he isn't the one they should be scared of

Because, yes König could easily handle himself, he isn't a big fan of confrontational and he doesn't like to be seen as scary

You, on the other mind don't mind at all

I can also see you not really knowing that other people see you as scary

Like, König is just like "Maus, you need to stop scaring the new guys."

And you're just like, me? Scary?

Because in reality you aren't really and you are actually quite kind to everyone,

König tells them that you just value respect and if they act with respect you will in turn

They are even more concerned with how you act on the field

If you were scary before, you are down-right feral in the field

You go silent with this look in your eye that begs anyone to mess with you

You and König work as a power-couple together

You are like unsuspecting silently feral type, he is a loud and unabashed feral type

the two of you often have to be reeled in after an op, the both of you wildly blood thirsty

But then imagine the two of you, wrapped up in each others arms as you come down from the adrenaline

The two of you gently cleaning each others wounds and exchanging soft kisses

After the adrenaline wears off your both bone tired and in need of a good nap

Your hands were laid across his shoulders, slowly sliding down to unclip the latches on his tactical vest. He hums lightly, lifting one of his large hands to your face, a damp washcloth secured in it to wipe at the blood splatters across your cheeks. The heavy vest drops with a thump, neither of you caring about where your gear ends up in that moment.

Your hand comes up and covers his, laying a gentle kiss on his knuckles. You gently take the cloth from his hand, moving your other hand up to remove his veil. You wait for his small nod of approval before you lift it off, throwing it over the dresser in the corner. König flattens his hand across your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb moving along it. Your smile while looking at his face, pushing some of his long fringe back from his eyes before beginning to wipe at the eye-black that rims them. His eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch, his other hand rubbing up and down on your outstretched arm.

When you seem satisfied with his newly cleaned face, you throw your cloth down onto the bedside table to be dealt with later. König moves in, placing the softest kiss to your lips before pulling back just enough to mutter, "Let's go to sleep, Maus" against your lips. With a gentle tug, he slumps down onto his too-small cot and pulls you across his chest. The cot was barely enough to fit just him but even with the two of you, it didn't feel too small.

It was jarring to you, that two people so intimately capable of violence were allowed such softness. That two monsters, as you were often called, were allowed moments like this. Maybe you were monsters. You didn't really mind as long as you could be a monster with him.

Thanks for reading!

⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettproof @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you @punziesworld @heaven-angels-world @crystalliebling @southernbluebellereader @nptnewr @blueoorchid

[cherrycheolcoups]

seventeen fic recs - werewolf au [hyung line]

started: 05/14/23

updated: 05/15/23

doing these by aus first lol. link to my overall fic recs masterlist here: unavailable for now. working on posting the masterlist

BY MEMBER:

choi seungcheol:

moonlust series by @sunlightwoo | cheol's series: chains

pairing: werewolf!seungcheol x human!reader | summary: according to what he has heard from previous alphas before him, leaders should be strong, initiative, confident and not back down from whatever it is they are being challenged with. he also knew that when it comes to you, he suddenly feels as though he is chained up and being tortured due to the fact that you wanted to deny him as your mate; but why? | this is a 7 part series within a series. each member has a different masterlist. cheol's is titled chains

imprinted series by @gamerwoo | cheol's series: alpha, alpha part 2, alpha part 3

pairing: werewolf!seungcheol x human!reader | genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, fluff, angst, mild violence but like super mild | word count: 4,999 | summary: seungcheol's pack doesn't always fight with each other, but when they do, they make sure to blow every possible secret they can in the process. well, except for the fact that you're supposed to be his mate. he has to figure that one out on his own.

spotlight by @a-mixers-serenity

pairing: werewolf!seungcheol x human!reader | genre: fluff | warning: none | word count: 2,219

huff, puff by @thepixelelf

pairing: human!reader x werewolf!seungcheol (hints of reader & vampire!jeonghan) | word count: 1.1k | warnings: descriptions of blood, a bullet wound, and injury. kissing. implied desire to go further but it doesn't happen lol | synopsis: when an injured vampire shows up at your door, you're of course there to help. but your werewolf partner is more than a little wary of this vampire's intentions.

tales from the pack series by @gamerwoo | cheol's series: stubborn

pairing: werewolf!seungcheol x human!reader | genre/warnings: werewolf au, kinda thief au, fantasy, angst, slightly fluffy??, drugging but it's not in an evil context i promise | word count: 2,281 [this count is for the first fic] | summary: you've heard the stories your relatives told you about werewolves when you were younger, but you always thought it was just a scare tactic to make kids behave. well, up until you woke up in a den full of werewolves

untitled fic by @97-liners | cont.: here

pairing: werewolf!seungcheol x vampire!reader | word count: 1k | just domestic fluff

yoon jeonghan:

moonlust series by @sunlightwoo | jeonghan's series: palace

pairing: werewolf!jeonghan x alpha werewolf!reader | summary: jeonghan felt the pull that you were alluring out into the atmosphere as you had found out about vernon and his mate's meetups. he didn't expect for his mate to be an alpha whatsoever, but he knew that if you also found out about your mate bond with him, you wouldn't be so happy either as you had to decide whether you wanted to keep your throne or be with your mate | this is a 7 part series within a series. each member has a different masterlist. han's is titled palace

imprinted series by @gamerwoo | han's series: rare, rare part 2, rare part 3

pairing: werewolf!jeonghan x human!reader | genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, some angst, fluff at the end, a little crack, smut (oral, fem receiving), unprotected sex, choking, begging, dom!jeonghan | summary: jeonghan hates studying. he hates class, and he hates college. he doesn't understand why he even thought it was a good idea to enroll four years ago. but then he met you, and while you were cold to him at first, it only took a few days without you for him to realize why

night life by @a-mixers-serenity

pairing: werewolf!jeonghan x human!reader | genre: fluff | warning: set in a nightclub | word count: 1,221

hong jisoo:

moonlust series by @sunlightwoo | shua's series: broken hearts

pairing: werewolf!joshua x human!reader | summary: after years of being in relationships that he knew weren't right, joshua already gave up on the idea of finding his mate, until you came along. his ideas of finding his mate made him feel even worse as he came to learn that you and him were merely doing the same thing to fill the void of the broken hearts you each had. however, the question unknowingly lingered between you both as you thought, what made the other like this? | this is a 7 part series within a series. each member has a different masterlist. shua's is titled broken hearts

imprinted series by @gamerwoo | shua's series: two timing, two timing part 2

pairing: werewolf!joshua x human!reader | genre/warnings: werewolf au, fluff, crack, slight angst but u gotta squint to even notice it | summary: you loved being with josh; you loved everything about josh, actually. you had a few minor bumps to work out - and one big one - but sometimes, it was nice to just ignore everything and be together for a while

the healing place by @a-mixers-serenity

pairing: werewolf!joshua x human!reader | genre: fluff | warnings: this whole story takes place in a hospital, mentions of falling, concussions, blood tests and blood | word count: 1,536

tales from the pack series by @gamerwoo | shua's series: second chance

pairing: werewolf!joshua x werecoyote!reader | genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, possible character death, a little bit of fluff but it's like angsty fluff | summary: after his mate died, joshua always blamed himself and never wanted to imprint again. however, fate has other ideas when he meets you: a young, energetic werecoyote that's quite the opposite of him. he insists he doesn't want a new mate - nobody's even sure if he's ready for a new one - but he can't ignore his instincts.

wen junhui:

moonlust series by @sunlightwoo | jun's series: attractions

pairing: werewolf!junhui x female reader | summary: there was something suspicious that was in junhui's mind when he found you as he was merely grocery shopping in the city. although you seemed as though you were innocent and kind, there was an instinct inside of him that was telling signs of a duality you might hold, and he was ready to figure out what that feeling was as he wanted to know you more. | this is a 7 part series within a series. each member has a different masterlist. jun's is titled attractions

imprinted series by @gamerwoo | jun's series: hate me not, hate me not part 2, hate me not part 3 | china line's: ours, ours part 2, ours part 3

pairing: werewolf!junhui x female reader | genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff and some crack at the end, smut, angry/jealous sex, dom!jun, unprotected sex, a lil overstim | summary: jun had imprinted a while ago, but he just never told anybody and kept his distance. you were a seemingly quiet girl who only ever studied in the library on campus, but junhui still constantly went out of his way to impress you whenever he saw you. he just didn't know that his actions were doing the opposite of what he intended

a little bit personal by @a-mixers-serenity

pairing: werewolf!jun x female reader | genre: fluff with a lili-speck of angst | warnings: none | word count: 2,409

kwon soonyoung:

moonlust series by @sunlightwoo | hoshi's series: inflamed

pairing: werewolf!soonyoung x female reader | summary: the both of you were almost the same individual, if you were put in rooms that were conjoined to one another; except the only conflict was that you both resented each other because of the past that you both shared. attempting to avoid your mating bond was almost impossible, up to the point where their passions of annoying the other was much more enjoyable. | this is a 7 part series within a series. each member has a different masterlist. hoshi's is titled inflamed

imprinted series by @gamerwoo | hoshi's series: two is better than one, two is better than one part 2

pairing: werewolf!soonyoung x female reader | genre/warnings: werewolf au, a lot of crack in the beginning, fluff, angst but it ends fluffy i promise, beastiality jokes because soonyoung pretends to imprint on a chicken | summary: all soonyoung wants is to find his mate, but he's starting to lose hope. it feels like all of his brothers are imprinting, and he's left alone and feeling an emptiness he can't shake no matter how much love he's surrounded with. but then when he finally imprints, he completely messes things up, and he's afraid he can't fix it. the only help he has is a three-year-old that seems unfazed by everything

smile! by @a-mixers-serenity

pairing: werewolf!soonyoung x female reader | genre: fluff | warning: mentions people's mouths and braces | word count: 1,218

tales from the pack series by @gamerwoo | hoshi's series: imperfect

pairing: werewolf!soonyoung x female reader | genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, a little humor at the end, lots of mentions of sex, lots of mentions of death, a couple implications of suicide but it never actually happened, depression, slapping | summary: soonyoung has always been desperate to find his mate, often going out into town at night to fill the void of imprinting that he craves so much. then suddenly, you (quite literally) appear in front of him. he'd always dreamed and fantasized about what having his mate would be like, but the reality is nothing like he expected

jeon wonwoo:

moonlust series by @sunlightwoo | woo's series: fragile you

pairing: werewolf!wonwoo x female reader | summary: wonwoo didn't expect to find out that you, one of his long time best friends, was his mate. the only thing that was stopping him from actually telling you that the both of you were mates, was the fact that you vowed to him that you wouldn't fall in love with another werewolf, even if they were your mate. he understood what you meant and why, remembering all of the events that happened in the past with your ex. | this is a 7 part series within a series. each member has a different masterlist. woo's is titled fragile you

imprinted series by @gamerwoo | woo's series: perfect, perfect part 2, perfect part 3, perfect part 4

pairing: werewolf!wonwoo x tall!female reader | genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, fluff, angst, crack, some suggestive comments but it's really tame don't worry | summary: as a mate, it's wonwoo's job to make sure you as his girlfriend are protected, healthy, and happy. therefore, he's always there to constantly remind you that he loves everything about you; including your long legs, and weird shenanigans that you always get sucked into by his pack mates

photogenic by @a-mixers-serenity

pairing: werewolf!wonwoo x female reader | genre: fluff | warning: none | word count: 2,049

by the moon by @wonwoonlight

pairing: werewolf!wonwoo x mage!reader (ft. seungcheol, jeonghan, jisoo, jihoon, minghao, chan) | genre/warnings: fantasy au but i kinda just make my own universe, angst, fluff, hurt comfort, a little action?, suggestive at the end, mentions of blood and kidnapping, implied sexual activities (no smut) | word count: 18k~

tales from the pack series by @gamerwoo | woo's series: protector

pairing: werewolf!wonwoo x female reader | genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, slight angst | summary: if there's one thing wonwoo hates, it's feeling helpless; like there's nothing he can do to stop somebody he loves from getting hurt. it's happened to him once before, and he swears it'll never happen again. especially not after he meets you

untitled fic by @kimkiyum

pairing: werewolf!wonwoo x female reader | word count: 598 | warning: breeding

lee jihoon:

moonlust series by @sunlightwoo | hoon's series: easing in

pairing: werewolf!jihoon x female reader | summary: it wasn't easy being someone's mate knowing that they were someone that jihoon was going to have some sort of difficulty with because of how different they were in personalities. breaking down walls and emotions are easier said than done, when in reality its unraveling stories and secrets that could've been tampered with or hidden for different reasons. | this is a 7 part series within a series. each member has a different masterlist. hoon's is titled easing in

imprinted series by @gamerwoo | hoon's series: scarred, scarred part 2, scarred part 3

pairing: werewolf!jihoon x female reader | genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, angst, mentions of an abusive relationship, jealous jihoon, mentions of blood/bleeding, smut, angry sex, sorta semi-public bc it's in a closet, unprotected sex but his pullout game is strong, jihoon trying to be a dom but reader being stubborn, fluff at the end tho | summary: you'd had enough experience with werewolves for this lifetime, but another one waltzes right into your life and, quite literally, grabs your attention. all you want to do is stay as far away from him as possible, but there's just something about him that has you going against everything you promised yourself you wouldn't do

coffee break by @a-mixers-serenity

pairing: werewolf!jihoon x female reader | genre: fluff, angst | warning: food & drink | word count: 2,205

tales from the pack series by @gamerwoo | hoon's series: unfamiliar

pairing: werewolf!jihoon x female reader | genre/warnings: werewolf au, familiar au, fantasy, kinda angst but kinda not???, a lil fluffy ig | summary: jihoon's never really been considered a warm or affectionate person. his pack teases him about what it'll be like when he finally gets his mate, but he doesn't worry about it. little do they know that his mate is a lot closer than they think