#i am in so much pain and i have nothing that stops it and i just. want to not be dealing with anything i am right now
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Then it made me understand the importance of being with my pain, to have moments where i don’t look away or cover it with technique after technique. The only true way out of trauma is through. So i honor its good intentions for me. Trauma is emotional energy through hypervigilance, that once converted and in full throttle can take a person as far as their bodies can hold it together. After that crisis. The emotional energy typically has the ability to become inner focused, spiritually focused. Now at that point, when the person alone realizes responsibility, nothing can stop them.
If a person thought survival was dependant on their ability to adapt/accomodate the caregivers ability to meet their needs, i.e fawning. Then that alone can give them an insight into people that most others never will have access to. Once the insight into others stabilizes holistically into self-knowledge. It can make them so self-obsessed and in love with that process that they are free to gloat in how it makes people sick of them.
You cannot make me look away or disconnect anymore. The disagreeable reach further for good reason. They criticize you but their knees would snap from a week in your shoes. No one really has the emotional bandwidth to hold space for you, no one cares that much. Nor can you or should you expect it. Only you care that much because your survival used to depend on it in your view. But it does not anymore.
So when self-caring becomes self-focused, all bets are off. I.e when a person cares enough about themselves, because they are all they’ve got in the end. Instead of caring about the conditioned and confused responses of others, that in turn came from the limited minds of other wounded people. An inheritance of limitation that has only gotten those people as far as they’ve gotten. They will experience the mercy they seek, i am either merciless to myself and merciful to others, or i begin to give myself mercy instead of seeking it externally.
”Fuck forgiveness, i don’t need your permission to live, think and feel as i wish.”
Trauma can make a person strong but if said person is traumatized they’ll likely think ”force and defense” is the way out. Or the healing fantasy of otherness. I’ve personally found that learning about and practicing healthy processing and functioning and the manifestations of self-love and self-focus is the way out. The personal permission slip of letting myself show up as ’one life’ with everything i am at all times is as well. Of seeing that despite my trauma, my heart beats and my breath occurs without my command, this is life.
We are ”human beings” not ”humans doing”. Nothing needs to be done in truth; other than to ’be’. This is the spiritual truth. Now, the spiritual realm can supercharge all of it too. Learning to stack positivity and health in every aspect of life is a big one too for me. Finally though, the difficult emotions have to be felt all the way through, so they lose power over us, this is where i see the benefits of therapy. What is healthy for us never seizes, same for what is unhealthy. No matter how convincing the mind gets.
Finally now, this life is to me, a ridiculously profound experience and exploration.
I was given a beautiful spirit in the womb of my mother, this spirit is a sun shining, no matter how dark the clouds get.
My childhood trauma didn't make me stronger. it made me a people pleaser. it made me forgive way too much. it made me not speak when i'm supposed to. it made me an extreme empath.
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Holding On
WARNING: This definitely counts as spoiler for act 3.
Summary: Jinx thinks she too far gone, but you think exactly the opposite.
Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader
Wordcount: 829
Authors note: I decided to cope with writing so I'm back guys :)
masterlist
The air was thick with tension, the faint hum of the explosives making everything feel heavier. Jinx stood in the center of the room, her body trembling with the weight of her thoughts. The bomb was in her hands—its cruel, ticking countdown echoing through her head, matching the frantic pace of her heartbeat.
She looked at the device, her eyes wild with something darker than madness. Her fingers were just inches away from pulling the trigger. The detonator. The end. She could feel it. The destruction. The chaos.
But there was something else too. Something so faint, you almost missed it���a desperation that even Jinx couldn't hide.
You didn’t know how you got here, only that you had to get to her before it was too late. Your heart pounded in your chest as you rushed into the room, your eyes locking onto her figure.
"Jinx!" you called, your voice strong, breaking through the sound of the countdown. She didn't look up. Not at first.
"Don't even think about it," you said, your voice sharper now, cutting through the tense silence that had surrounded her. You knew you were running out of time.
Her head snapped up, her eyes filled with something you couldn't read, a whirlwind of anger, pain, and confusion. The bomb was still in her hands, her fingers trembling, but she didn’t move.
"You think you can stop me?" she whispered, her voice hoarse, raw. "You think I care?"
You took a step closer, your hands raised in a gesture of caution, but your resolve was unwavering. "I care, Jinx. I care more than you know. But this… this isn't you."
Her lips curled into a bitter smile, but her eyes betrayed her. They were glassy, unfocused. "Who else am I supposed to be, huh?" The words were jagged, broken, just like her. "I’ve lost everyone. I don’t even know who I am anymore."
"You're Jinx," you said, your voice softening as you took another step forward. "You're the girl I… I can’t lose, not like this." You swallowed, your heart aching with every word you spoke. "Please, put the bomb down."
For a long moment, she just stood there, her face unreadable, as though trying to make sense of the chaos in her mind. Then she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, but you heard it clearly.
"You’ve been the best girlfriend… the best person in my life. You know that, right?" Her hand trembled, but she didn't pull away. Her eyes didn’t meet yours as she spoke, but you could see the hint of something breaking in her gaze. "I’m sorry… but I don't think I can keep going like this. I don't know how much more of me you can take."
"Jinx, no…" you breathed, stepping closer, your heart pounding as the weight of her words hit you.
"You deserve someone who can be whole," she continued, her voice cracking, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "You deserve someone who can… stay. I don’t even know who I am anymore. But you—" She stopped, shaking her head, a faint laugh escaping her lips, bitter and broken. "You were everything. Thank you. Thank you for everything."
"Don’t you dare," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Don’t you dare say goodbye. Not like this."
Her hand tightened on the detonator again, her fingers almost convulsing, but she was silent, the look in her eyes telling you more than any words could.
You couldn’t let her go, not like this.
“Please, Jinx,” you whispered desperately, your voice barely audible. "I need you. I love you. I can’t lose you. You don’t have to do this. You’re worth so much more than all of this. We’ll figure it out together. Please."
She looked at you then, her lips trembling, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. The bomb in her hand felt like nothing compared to the weight of the emotion that filled the room. She slowly lowered the detonator, her hands shaking as she clutched it loosely, a faint tremble passing through her.
"I'm too far gone," she said, barely above a whisper, her voice breaking. "But maybe... maybe I still have something left. I can't leave you alone"
You reached for her then, slowly, gently. She didn't flinch as you took her hand in yours, her fingers cold but now gripping you back, even if just a little.
"I can't let you go," you said softly, your voice trembling but firm. "Please... don't leave me like this."
For the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself lean against you, her body trembling. The bomb was still in her hand, but she wasn’t holding onto it anymore.
"I don't deserve you," she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
And for once, there was no chaos. Just the fragile thread of connection between you, something both of you clung to as if it could mend the broken pieces. "You deserve everything," you murmured, your voice steady and sure. "And I’ll be here to remind you of that, every step of the way."
#jinx arcane#jinx x reader#jinx x y/n#arcane jinx#jinx/you#jinx x fem!reader#jinx posting#jinx league of legends#jinx lol
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labour // leah williamson
a/n : i giggled a lot writing this.
warnings : none really, set in a hospital, reader being gobby
Leah was ready for anything. At least, that’s what she’d been telling herself for nine months. She’d read books, watched videos, and even gone to a birthing class where she’d accidentally fainted during the “miracle of life” video. But now, with you gripping her hand like you were trying to crush her metacarpals, she realized nothing could have prepared her for this.
“You’re doing amazing,” Leah said softly, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand.
“shut the fuck up you evil woman,” you growled, your head snapping toward her with the intensity of a woman possessed. “one more bloody ‘you’re doing amazing, and i’m going loose it”
Leah blinked. “Alright, cool, cool, cool. I’ll just… stop talking.”
“Good idea,” you hissed, then immediately let out a pained groan that shook the room.
The midwife, a chipper woman who apparently didn’t fear death, tried to help. “Let’s focus on breathing—”
“Don’t you start with the breathing! I AM BREATHING, AREN’T I?!”
Leah glanced at the midwife apologetically. “She’s normally lovely. I promise.”
“Don’t you dare apologize for me!” you barked. “You did this to me, you fucking cunt! You and your stupid, sexy smile!”
Leah couldn’t help but smirk. “You think my smile is sexy?”
“NOT THE TIME”
An hour later, you were in what the midwife called “active labor” and what you called “the seventh circle of hell.” Leah, to her credit, was trying to keep it together, but you weren’t making it easy.
“How about I go stand up front with the midwife?” she suggested, trying to be helpful. “You know, cheer you on from the sidelines—”
“ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY NOT!” you yelled, grabbing her wrist then smacking her arm with surprising strength for someone in so much pain. “YOU ARE STAYING BACK HERE, WITH YOURE WIFE. I can feel my fanny ripping in half, ain’t no way in hell your seeing that”
Leah blinked, torn between amusement and terror. “Babe, that’s not—”
“NOT TAKING ANY BLOODY CHANCES!”
“Alright,” Leah muttered, holding her hands up. “I’ll just stay here then.”
“Good,” you snapped. Then, as another contraction hit, you added, “But you’re still not getting sex for a year. Minimum.”
Leah gasped in mock horror. “A YEAR?!”
“Maybe two! Depends on how long it takes me to forget THIS,” you shouted, gesturing wildly to your entire body before screaming in agony once again.
“Didn’t you say earlier that you’d forget everything once you saw the baby’s face?” Leah asked you.
You leveled her with a glare so sharp it could’ve sliced through steel. “FORGET WHAT I SAID EARLIER! one more word from you woman and i’m getting a divorce.”
By hour nine, the room had descended into chaos. You cussing out at everyone in sight, including the poor anesthesiologist who had tried to offer you an epidural.
“I don’t care if it’s late in the game!” you shouted. “Stick the bloody needle in my spine, you fucking COWARD!”
The anesthesiologist froze.
Leah quickly intervened. “She doesn’t mean that.”
“I MEAN EVERY WORD!”
“She’s in pain,” Leah added, patting his arm. “She called me a ‘stupid, gorgeous twat’ earlier. It’s just how she expresses love.”
The anesthesiologist looked unconvinced but did as you asked, and for the first time in hours, you seemed to relax.
“Thank God,” you muttered, leaning back against the pillows. Then, turning to Leah, you added, “Don’t get comfortable. I’m still mad at you.”
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the midwife smiled. “Alright, one more big push!”
“One more?” you snarled. “THAT’S WHAT YOU SAID THREE PUSHES AGO, JANET!”
“Her name is Emma,” Leah whispered.
“I DON’T CARE WHAT HER NAME IS!”
Leah bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“Alright,” the midwife—Emma—said patiently. “Let’s do this together. Big push!”
With a guttural scream that would’ve put banshees to shame, you gave one last push, and suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of a baby’s cry.
“She’s here!” Leah exclaimed, tears streaming down her face as the midwife placed the tiny, squirming bundle on your chest.
You stared down at your daughter, your entire world shifting in an instant. “Oh my God,” you whispered, tears pricking your eyes. “She’s perfect.”
“She is,” Leah agreed, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“She’s also loud,” you added. “Definitely gets that from you.”
“Oi!” Leah protested, but her grin gave her away.
Later, as your daughter nursed contentedly, you looked at her with a soft smile. “You know,” you said, stroking her tiny hand, “your muma is going to be so jealous. You’ve stolen her favorite spot.”
Leah gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Innocent ears! Did you just tell our newborn daughter about—”
“Yes,” you interrupted. “And she’s got a right to know.”
Leah shook her head, feigning devastation. “I can’t believe you’d corrupt her like this. On her first day. What kind of example are you setting?”
From the corner of the room, Leah’s mum, who had been quietly observing the whole thing, finally spoke up.
“Right, well,” she said, smirking, “this has been the most entertaining day of my life.”
You groaned, burying your face in your free hand. “Oh, God. You’re still here.”
“Still here,” her mum confirmed, grinning. “And I can’t wait to tell this story at Christmas.”
Leah burst into laughter while you muttered something about filing for divorce.
That night, as you lay in bed with your daughter snuggled between you and Leah, you sighed.
“I guess I forgive you,” you murmured.
“For what?” Leah asked, her voice soft.
“For putting me through hell today.”
Leah grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Does this mean the sex ban is off?”
You shot her a look. “Don’t push your luck, Williamson.”
#woso#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#woso imagine#leah williamson imagines#leah williamson x you#leah williamson one shot#leah williamson fluff
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you know me
pairings: arkham knight!jason todd x f!reader
warnings: fluff! some mentions of what happened to him in the asylum
word count: 1.9k
an: i hope you guys like it 😅 part 1
Jason had told you he would disappear for a few days, he said he would explain when he came back and until then to quit your job and not leave your house. Before leaving, he gave you a device and told you he would beep it three times to signal you that he was outside of your apartment.
The night he held you was the only time he had let you so close to him. When you parted to wash your face, he made it clear he wanted to keep a distance between you two. Whenever you walked towards him he would take a step backwards, it stung but you can understand why, the mark on his face was a sign that whatever happened to him was bad.
The last thing he told you before returning to the shadows was to start packing. Your mind told you he wasn’t the same and that you should be asking questions instead of blindly following him. Yet, the only thing you’ve ever wanted for the past few years was him. Nothing was going to stop you from following him, not even him.
-
Meanwhile, Jason was at a loss on what to do. Seeing you brought back fond and awful memories. His memory was tainted with the bad things that have happened to him, his childhood, the in-between and the after. But you, you were like a firefly in the quiet meadow, a temporary relief before the world burned around him.
He had been questioning what he should do with you, where his feelings for you still lie. As of right now, he just wants to keep you safe. There’s a battle in his mind, he can’t decide whether he’s happy that you stayed and waited for him or if he should call you foolish for not getting out of Gotham, for putting yourself in danger. The former thought is winning, his heart thumps at the thought of still being remembered as Jason and not the failed robin.
Memories of your time together flash in his mind as he makes his way back to your place; he recognizes the apartment, it’s the one you two planned to move into. You were the one thing he wouldn’t let anyone touch, not then and definitely not now. He can’t ever be the person you so wholly loved but he wants to be someone you can learn to love.
There are a lot of risks with that, you’d be a constant target, he’d have to either go with you anytime you went in public or simply have whatever you wanted delivered by someone else. The life you had before will be no more, he’s selfish but he hopes you don’t mind.
-
It’s about 3am in the morning when you hear the device beep, you respond back with the code he gave you then go to your window to open it for him (you have a feeling he could open it just fine.)
The night he was in your apartment, he was in all black clothes, now he’s in front of you covered head to toe in thick armor. The suit makes your window seem so fragile, the living room looks much smaller too.
He clicks his helmet off and gently sets it on the floor, “Are you ready to go?” You can’t tell whether it’s a question or a statement but by the way he’s looking at you, you’re going to guess he’s telling you.
“Am I allowed to ask where?” He follows you as you check the place for any belongings you may have missed, his heavy footsteps follow you, even in the armor he’s quiet. “A safehouse. Somewhere outside of the city.” After making your rounds, sad you two couldn’t occupy the space, you turn to face him, “Will you be there too?”
The question catches him off-guard, unused to being thought of. Despite the hardness to his eyes, how tense his posture is, the way he speaks to you was like before, gentle and soft. Under all the pain, he was a sweet boy.
To you, he will always be your sweet boy.
“Of course.”
-
Given the time, you fell asleep in the car, waking up in your bed but a different room. It takes a bit to remember the events that have happened. Moving the blankets off of you, you make your way around the safehouse. The layout is similar to your old apartment, it’s comforting but makes you question how he was able to find a place with the same format.
A click of a door makes you turn and you see Jason in the clothes you saw him in the night he visited you, “I got you some food, we should talk.”
He places down multiple containers with different food’s inside and a large cup of coffee from your favorite cafe. He remembered. Jason makes his way to sit across from you, a breakfast serving only for one so you ask to which he replies that he already ate.
Still, like before, you offer him a plate of a little bit of everything in case he’s hungry again or lying about his eating habits. You’re careful to not treat him like nothing happened but not as a stranger either, it’s a strange middle you’re still trying to understand.
“We’ll talk after you eat.” He doesn’t touch the food you offered him but you hope the thought reaches him all the same. There’s a part of you that hopes your boyfriend is still there considering that you were tucked in bed in a new change of clothes, but he keeps you more than an arm’s length away.
It should be uncomfortable, the way he watches you eat, the man before you is bigger, face sharper, still handsome. His eyes never left you even as you moved to put any leftovers away. Grabbing him a glass of water, you sat in front of him once again.
“What would you like to know first?” As quick as the movement was, you saw the way his gaze flickered to the side then back up, “Anything you’re comfortable with telling me.”
The ache in his chest comes back, you were his sweetness, you still are and it hurts him to be near you. You were all he dreamed about, amongst other things, when he was trapped in that wing. Words can't explain how relieved he was that the Joker could not touch you or taint your image, you were so dear to him.
“I followed.. him.. to Arkham’s Asylum, specifically an abandoned wing.” His beautiful eyes no longer looked into your own, instead focusing on the way your fingers fidget, “For almost two years I was tortured.. tied to a chair, hung up by the arms.. I know you saw the scar. There are things I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say out loud… I just wanted him to kill me.”
There’s a pause before he continues, “For months I waited for Batman, I refused to believe he forgot about me, that he replaced me but when I saw that picture.” Silence envelopes the room, it’s thick and he doesn’t say anything for a while, you also knew better than to say anything about how bad Batman’s grief actually was.
Your hand moves to hold his, to comfort him in any way but you’re afraid to push him into silence, but your hesitation is for naught as he grabs your hand and interlinks your fingers together, quietly he says, “I dreamt of you.” The words make you move your gaze from your intertwined hands to his eyes.
“I missed you so much, yn.” His voice cracks and he looks away, Jason tries to pull his hand from yours but you squeeze them tighter together, “I thought about you every single day, Jace. Not a second went by when I wasn’t thinking of you.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, “I’m not the same person.” Quickly you replied, standing up from the chair and moving to his side of the table, “I don’t expect you to be, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.” It seems to be the wrong answer as he stands from the chair and creates space between you two, arms crossing against his chest, “It should! I can’t- We can’t be together, there’s no point!”
It’s a lie, he’s lying, he can’t accept that you love him like it’s easy, like his whole existence isn’t filthy. This was bad, he shouldn't have seen you, “I’m not sorry that I love you, I never will be. I don’t care that you’ve changed, you are still the most important person to me! I will do anything for you.” Your voice is soft but stern, you need him to hear you.
As much as you want to, you don’t approach him, you’re just happy he opened up to you at all. There’s obviously more than happened to him, more than just physical abuse. You have to be smart and careful not to treat him like he’s fragile because your Jason is anything but. He’s the strongest person you know and you’re here to help him feel loved and supported.
Blue eyes analyze your body language, watching your chest move, the way your fingers slightly shake, “Why.. Why do you still love me?” His knees give out and he falls to the floor, you’re quick to move towards him in case he falls completely, so you opt to sit just a couple steps away.
“How can I not love you? Even if you hadn’t come back I would have still loved you. You are my lifeline Jason.” You’ve never been a liar, not once had he ever doubted you, even now, as different as he looks you still followed his every word. Not once did you care to think he would have poisoned your food or this safehouse itself could have been a trap; Yet you followed him anyway. Why?
“You can’t possibly look at me and still love it.” Jason can barely stand to look at his own reflection, it’s starting to frustrate him that you supposedly see past the scars and accept him. It can’t be that easy, it shouldn’t be.
He doesn’t realize he said the last thing out loud, “Loving you is the easiest thing in the world, Jaybee.” A scoff falls from his lips at the nickname, and if you didn’t know him any better you would’ve missed the teeny tiny smile that appeared on his lips.
“Whatever is running through that head of yours, I’m going to need you to tell me, okay? Maybe not now, or tomorrow or even the day after that but I’m always going to be here for you in any way that I can. I have all the time in the world with you around, I promised you then and I promise you now, I will always be right by your side.”
The ache in his chest is back, he feels his heart beating so fast, without thinking much he reaches towards you and holds you to his chest like the night he first saw you again. Only this time he cradled your body so close to his own, you were sideways which meant you got to hear the pounding of his heart. His hands weaved through your hair and if you felt his tears drip onto your hair you ignored it.
You can learn to love him just as you did before.
© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤
taglist for those who commented :) @fanficwritersworld @jasonsbaby @princessesgarden @anime-potato-san @ravensandmysterae
#𝜗𝜚 honeyaps#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd#arkham knight x reader#arkham knight x you#arkham knight#arkhamverse#jason todd fluff#jason todd angst
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Gosh, I can relate to this.
I think about what fandom is a lot since I sort of lurk in a lot of spaces (until I feel brave enough to speak or share).
First off, the point of this addition isn't to guilt trip anyone, but to get people thinking about what community means. What inclusion means, and what engagement means. And how those are interconnected.
One of the crucial pillars of fandom, and the reason fandom exists at all is because of community.
Writing fanfiction and sharing it for free is about building community with one another. It's people who loved a show/movie/book enough that they wanted to play in the world longer, so they play together in that world with other people who love it too. That's what fanworks are -- it's people playing together in community because of a love toward a specific series/media.
But community requires communication. It requires building connections. It requries engaging one another.
I write long fics. In fact, adding up the word counts of my fics in AO3? It's well over a million words in two different fandoms. These are free novels written because the community had been welcoming at first and it had encouraged me to keep going.
But I made a mistake. Two of these projects (in two separate fandoms) I made into a series. Because of how each part in a series means the sequel gets less engagement, it feels like I'm watching a community dissolve, and that's painful. I don't get paid for this. It's all free, and part of the reason I went to fanfic writing was because of community.
Lack of engagement gives, often unintentionally, the author the message that they aren't really part of the fandom's community. At least not anymore (if they ever were).
Some say, "Well, don't write for your readers!"
Well, no, I don't write for my readers, but the act of sharing for free is me giving to the community and building up community.
But part of building up community requires people to give back in turn. Oherwise the community will fracture and fall apart.
The reason fandom exists at all is because of community.
It's the community part of fandom that has helped me to heal enough to write again, but when that community dries up or no longer engages with me, then what am I to do? I've lost that community, and if I continue to engage with it and get very little (if not nothing) in return, then at that point, I'm throwing my energy into a void in hopes for a scrap of community.
It ceases to fulfill the need. It leaves me feeling lost and alone. And finding out later how much people loved a fic I wrote but that fic received very little engagement? It tells me that I'm not loved as a person within the community.
I have watched and listen to people talk about how much it hurts when the work they put in so much effort in for the community gets little to no engagement. It often pushes them to engage less, to stop writing, and watching that happen? It hurts to see.
Community requires communication. Do not treat an fanfic author like a kiosk, where you grab the story and run. Treat them like they are part of your community. By doing so, by including them, you bolster their sense of belonging and are more likely to get stories in return.
Community needs to be reciprocal. And I fear fandoms are losing that understanding of what community is. They expect and sometimes demand more, but what are they doing to support that fanfic writer or artist? Are they engaging them and uplifting them within the community? Or are they not engaging them?
If you read an author's work and love it, include them in that community by sharing your thoughts in a comment. You don't necessarily have to comment on every chapter of a longer work (Though it is so lovely some do), but to at least offer up comments here and there to be inclusive of that author.
Engagement bolsters the community bond.
The lack of engagement breaks the community bond.
And that's a sort of grief. Us writers came for community and to share our love of the fandom with others. When we fail to be included in that community, it will hurt. It's a type of rejection that people may not even realize they are doing.
Community requires communication, and for fandoms, part of that communication is comments, kudos, (and gosh, even tumblr asks).
I hope that helps give people another perspective to consider.
Think it over. Think about what you'd like to give back to the creators in your community.
And please understand, if you can only give back one or so comments? That's okay and valid, and that too builds up community.
Even little actions matter.
Never think your small action doesn't matter or that your comment or kudos doesn't matter. It does. It helps build community too.
Thanks for reading. Be safe.
A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.
My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.
My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.
This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.
Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.
I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.
So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.
#Just some thoughts on fandom and community#what I think readers may not realize when it comes to what comments are within the fandom community#I need to be better about comments too so I'm reminding myself too#bird speaks
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Imma need this haah so I was watching the race yesterday and I heard Nando come on the radio to say he would have given in by now but he needs to do it for a few people etc and I’ve seen the video at the end of the race where he’s struggling to get out of the car I can’t send it if you haven’t seen it and was thinking of Nando x reader based around this. You know me throw some angst in there and lots of fluff please 🙏 your my favourite Nando writer I love your work ❤️
I am so sorry this took so long I have an exam today and just wanted to finish it before I went in!! i hope you like it :)
For you
Fernando Alonso had never been one to back down from a challenge or a fight.
It wasn’t in his nature.
He never caved, never gave up, no matter how overwhelming the situation or how drained he felt.
That was what made the Brazilian Grand Prix such a shock—not just to Aston Martin, but to you, especially.
You had been by Fernando’s side for over 10 years, and his wife for 7 of those.
You knew him inside out, perhaps better than anyone else. You knew how stubborn he could be, how relentless, especially when it came to the risks he took behind the wheel.
The race had been brutal.
The heat was suffocating, visibility was near zero in certain sectors, and the pressure to deliver was immense.
You’d been watching from the edge of your seat, every moment fraught with anxiety. You were praying to anyone who could hear, hoping for a safe race. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the fear that his age was beginning to catch up with him.
Fernando wasn’t the young firecracker he once was, yet he never showed any sign of slowing down.
To the media, to the world, he was as fit and strong as ever. But with you—he was different. With you, he didn’t have to wear that mask of invulnerability.
That day in Brazil, the race had pushed him to his limits. The physical exhaustion, the mental strain, the constant, unrelenting pressure to win—it all weighed heavily on him.
You had seen him on those mornings when he woke up groaning in pain, his back stiff from the wear and tear of years of racing, and you knew it wasn’t just the way he slept. You knew the strain his body was under, but he would never admit it. Never to the world, and never to himself.
Yet, despite it all, there was something deeper driving him forward. Something that kept him pushing when every muscle in his body screamed for him to stop.
Just before the race, you two had fought. It had been a long, tense argument, your voices raised in frustration. You had begged him, pleaded with him, “Fernando, you need to slow down. The risks you’re taking, they’re too much. I don’t want to lose you.”
But he had been defensive, angry even. His pride, his need to prove he still had it, had made him dismiss your concerns. “I know what I’m doing,” he had snapped, his voice cutting through the tension. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
He had stormed off, leaving you with nothing but the echo of his words. But you knew, deep down, he wasn’t angry at you—he was angry at himself. Because even though he wouldn’t admit it, there was a fear in him now, a fear of not being able to keep up with the younger drivers. A fear of losing that edge he had worked his whole life to perfect.
But despite all of that, there was something else on his mind, something driving him forward when his body screamed for him to give in.
He'd heard it on the radio, his voice a low rasp as he pushed back against the exhaustion. "I would’ve given up by now, but I can't. I need to do this... for them. For a few people..." For you.
When the race finally ended, Fernando was barely able to stand. His body had been pushed to its absolute limit. The pain was overwhelming, and as he dragged himself out of the car, the world around him spun. His hands were trembling, his legs unsteady, and yet it wasn’t the physical exhaustion that alarmed you. It was the look in his eyes—defeat, vulnerability, a quiet acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, you had been right.
You were there before he could take another step, rushing to his side. You didn’t need to say anything—your arms around him, the steady pressure of your embrace, spoke volumes. You could feel the weight of his body as he leaned into you, his breaths shallow, strained. His voice was barely audible when he spoke.
"I don’t know how much longer I can do this," he whispered, his words thick with exhaustion, both physical and emotional.
You didn’t hesitate. "You can," you replied softly, but firmly. "You always can. But only if you let yourself breathe sometimes, Nando."
He didn’t answer at first. His fingers clenched around your shirt, his face buried in your hair as though trying to find solace in your presence. For a moment, the roar of the crowd, the flashing lights, everything else faded away. All that mattered was you and him, the two of you in that moment, holding each other together.
You stepped back slightly to look into his eyes, the exhaustion etched deep into his features. You cupped his face gently in your hands. "You don’t have to carry it all. Not alone. Let me help you. Let me in."
He finally met your gaze, his eyes shadowed with the weight of the race, of the argument, of everything he had been bottling up. For a brief moment, you saw a flicker of regret. His voice was small, apologetic, and raw. “I was wrong, about everything. You were right. I pushed too hard today. I… I can’t keep going like this.”
A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You could see the cracks in his armor, the vulnerability he had never let anyone see before. The fight in him wasn’t gone—it had simply shifted. Now it wasn’t about winning races or proving himself to the world, it was about finding balance, finding peace.
"You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Fernando," you whispered, your hand gently brushing his cheek. "Not to me. Not to anyone. Just… come back to me in one piece, okay?"
He nodded, a tear slipping from his eye, and for the first time in a long while, you saw the man who had been running on empty—tired, afraid, and so desperately in need of someone to hold him.
and you would always be there to do that.
#f1 imagine#f1 scenario#f1 x reader#formula one#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso x female reader#fernando alonso x you#fernando alonso fanfic#fernando alonso#brazil gp 2024#aston martin#angst with a happy ending#angst#fernando alonso fluff#fernando alonso angsty
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the forgotten girl (1)
posted this originally on my old account. will be posting twice weekly :)
Emily Scott, sister of legendary lionesses Jill Scott, has died at the age of 21. Wife Amelia Scott-Higgins in intensive care.
Police have confirmed that Emily Scott was murdered in her family home over the weekend, her wife, Matilda’s star Amelia Scott-Higgins is in intensive care after sustaining life threatening injuries.
Waking up in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages and in heaps of pain was not exactly how I expected my day to go but here we are. I don’t remember much. I remember going home after training, I stopped to get dinner, chicken carbonara and garlic bread from our favourite Italian restaurant and then flowers from the corner stand that Emily was obsessed with. I was already late so who cares if I was a little extra late.
I remember the front gate being open, which is never normally the case, I remember the front door being unlocked but closed, again not normal but sometimes Em is in a rush when she gets home. As I took my shoes and coat off and wandered down the hallway, I didn’t notice the guy standing behind the door, or the guy on the couch, or Emily in the back room tied to a chair. I didn’t notice any of it. The only thing I noticed before it went black was the two wine glasses, one tipped over and smashed, the other full.
Chelsea FC superstar, Amelia Scott-Higgins has QUIT mid season.
CLICK TO READ MORE….
Where is football superstar Amelia Scott-Higgins?
Moving to Barcelona was the best thing I could’ve done. No one knows me,no one knows what happened or who Emily was. I am invisible. As soon as I could, I quit, left England, deleted all my social media and changed my number.
The rehab was incredibly hard. That’s to be expected considering I have multiple stab wounds to my stomach, my leg cut up, bruises covering every part of my body. I was still me though. Maybe not on the surface but deep down I was. I missed Emily everyday, I missed our life together, I miss the little things.
My apartment was empty. Nothing on the walls, plain furniture, it looked more like a show house than something someone would actually lived in. It didn’t bother me, it made my brain have to work less. All I did was rehab, surf and doom scroll. I came across the Manuelas instagram page, a gay bar in Barcelona. From what I’ve heard it’s incredibly popular but I’ve never been. They had a shirt available, “lesbian services”, after inquiring they allowed for me to pick it up.
I was meeting someone called Olga, slightly worried as I had no idea who she was, I let it play out.
“Hola! Are you Amelia?”
“Hola, yes I am.”
“Perfect! I’m Olga! Let me take you inside and you can get whatever you want. They said you’ve paid so you can get anything.”
Stickers, hats, shirts, they had it all. I grabbed one of everything and then had a chat with Olga.
“You’re not around here are you? Your Catalan and Spanish is good but the accent is a bit weird.”
“Oh nah. I’m Australian. Lived in London for a few years but I’m here now.”
“Oh wow! How long have you lived here?”
“3 years now. It’s beautiful. I don’t get out much but I’m trying to get out more.”
“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?”
“Uh um, I used to play -“
“Amelia? Is that you?” Keira Walsh and Lucy Bronze. Right in front of me. I haven’t seen them for 3 years, purposely ignoring all of them and essentially falling off the face of the earth.
“Amelia! What are you doing here? Give me a hug!”
“Hey guys. Long time so see.” This is not what I wanted. More and more people started surrounding us.
“Holy shit. That’s Amelia Scott-Higgins! She’s been MIA for so long. I miss watching her” the short one with dimples tried to whisper, it didn’t work.
“Dude she used to be so good. What happened?” Her taller companion asked next.
“That’s enough you two. She has ears and can hear you idiots.” Alexia Putellas. 2 time Ballon d’or and 2 time pain in my ass. “Hola Amelia. How are you?”
“Fine thanks Alexia. And you?”
“How do you all know each other? I am very confused here.” Olga spoke up.
“Mil used to play for-“ Alexia started to say
“We are old friends!” This is why I don’t leave my house.
“I need to go. I have things to do. Olga thank you so much for all this. If I owe any money let me know. Alexia, girls, it was nice to see you. Good luck this season.” Turning as quickly as I could to escape.
“Milly, wait.”
“Kei, don’t. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
“Please can I have your number or something? It’s been 3 years and you disappeared.”
“Give me your phone and I’ll put it in. I’m not good at replying. Bye Kei.”
3 years since I stepped foot in England, 3 years since I buried my wife. 3 years since I’d spoken to my friends. 4 years since Emily died. 4 years since I played football, 4 years since I felt normal.
#alexia x reader#fcb femení#mapi león#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso x reader#woso community#ingrid engen#keira walsh x reader#keira walsh#keira walsh x lucy bronze#jenni hermoso#claudia#claudia pina#fc barcelona femeni#barca femeni#woso soccer#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas fanfic#alexia putellas angst#woso angst
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1 out 1,000 babies can be born with one kidney. That is a 0.001% chance of that happening.
about 2 to3 % of Americans have scoliosis
I have both of these and I didn’t find out about having one kidney until I was 14 after a trip to the hospital with really bad gas in my stomach.
I also have a family line of thyroid problems on my mother side
both side of family has a history of cancer
had terrible period cramps only to find out at 18 that I had higher testosterone and estrogen, meaning I had PCOS
had an extra 3rd canine tooth in my mouth so I needed to lose my secound one in order for that to grow in
I swallowed a quarter once when I was a child and went to the hospital to make sure nothing got stuck
One year I got sick every month for god knows what reason
I had a migraine for the first time in my last year of high and didn’t go away for an entire day and pretty much Ed put me out of commission and just get the bad headaches on the side of my head sometimes
A few months ago, I went to the hospital again to be diagnosed with upper respiratory infection, causing me to stay home for the rest of the week since I work with kids and didn’t want them to get sick and am now using an inhaler whenever I get bad chest pain from that thing
and I’m addicted to nasal spray, but I can’t stop because I can’t spend days stugglijg to breath through my nose.
Don’t know who to tag in this so I’ll pick someone that I follow
@callilemon no pressure tags
it's so weird to me that everyone on this website is a human person outside of their weird internet niche so rb this with a random bit of your lore
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𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐍𝐀 ~ Chapter One
Summary - 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 the High Lord of Night Court Rhysand and Y/n meet during cruel dark times. During Amarantha's ruling over Prythian. Finding each other during such a time the two secretly fall deeply in love with one another. Both having a rare bond tethering them together... a mating bond. A bond that they both cherished and held close to their hearts. Though they loved each other dearly there was something that was missing. A missing piece they could feel deep within. It caused the two to grow a longing feeling within. It didn't deter their love for one another. But they just knew there was a blank space in their bond. After so long the two mates finally find the missing piece... another mate.
Pairing - Rhysand x Female!Reader x Feyre Archeron
Universe - pre acotar - acowar [it may go into an au after acowar not sure yet though]
Warnings - Gore, Death, Blood, Characters may be a bit OOC, Mature Themes, Semi Smut or Smut NOT Sure Yet, Violence, Language, Abuse, Mention of Past Abuse, Mention of SA and SH (but nothing descriptive), War, Things Will Be Changed Sort Of, Fluff, Angst, Some Sensitive Subjects, Mating Bonds, Poly. Relationship MxFxM, More Will Be Added If Needed.
Disclaimer - I do not own the series ACOTAR - ACOWAR. I do own certain characters, and I own my mc. I do own somethings that are made up. And i own my writing and whatnot you get where im going and what i am saying lol.
Shaking her head she found herself able to wake up. A groan escaped her lips at the pain in her head and the pain that traveled all over her body. But then a whimper escaped her soon after. Opening her eyes slightly she was met with the ground beneath her moving slowly. Her vision was still blurry. She then felt two strong grips on her arms holding her up. Along with cuffs around her wrists and a collar around her neck all connected to chains. She then realized that she was being dragged somewhere. Feeling the ground scraping against her legs.
Opening and closing her eyes rapidly she tried to clear her vision. Once cleared another whimper escaped her as she tried to get away from the two holding her. But it was no use because she was too weak. But a cry escaped her when she felt someone suddenly yank at the metal collar around her neck. Causing her to gasp and cough. It seemed there was someone behind her.
“You better stop. You know Amarantha won’t want a possible new pet to be banged up too much by us. We already did enough when catching her. She’d want to do the rest herself.”
She heard one of the males dragging her say. After he spoke they were all soon laughing at his words. She was now confused and terrified. But hearing the name Amarantha she realized where she might be now… Under the Mountain. A place she dreaded and wanted nothing to do with.
She remembered being in the Spring Court with her family. All of them were getting ready to leave the Court together. Seeing that the Spring Court was being watched more closely than the others by the new cruel ruler of Prythian… Amarantha. Her ruling having been for ten years now. They wanted to get away from the constant searching and persistent eyes. They wanted to stay safe and keep hidden.
They had to stay hidden… well more so herself then anyone. Her family wanted to keep her hidden and out of the public's eye. Being she was something or someone very rare. Someone very rare that hasn’t been seen in many centuries. Something rare but also powerful. And it seemed the people knew as well now. As they dragged her through the dark halls and to a room.
Now closing her eyes, she began to think about it. She could remember what had happened. She was playing with her younger brother Evrin in the forest behind their cottage when her mother and father came running. They had heard that people were coming to take her to Amarantha herself. They wanted to run. But it was too late. Their cottage was raided not long after. Which led her and her father to fight. While her mother and brother ran to hide. As they fought they almost killed her father but she was able to hide him away from them before they could. But as she did at that moment she was captured.
She just hoped that her family were together and safe. Her mother, father, and younger brother. She knew they most likely would be at their meeting point. A meeting point on the edge of Spring Court leading into Summer Court. But it broke her heart just thinking of it. That she wouldn’t be meeting them. Because she was in the hands of Amarantha now.
It caused tears to fall down her cheeks knowing that she was in her hands. She knew how cruel she could be having heard of her through the whispers in the winds. She could hear the cries and prayers to the Mother at times. Then hearing of her from the people in the Spring Court, hearing the rumors and stories. She was scared. No, she was terrified.
She had soon jumped hearing the loud opening of the large doors leading into a vast room. There were many people in the room. As she looked around with tears in her eyes. She saw many with smirks and grins with their gazes on her. But as she looked to the throne in the room there she sat… Amarantha.
Seeing her causes her to shake in fear. She was quick to look at the ground. Not wanting to meet her eyes. But a yelp escaped her when she was thrown roughly onto the floor at her feet. Her chains clicked on the ground. Which caused many to laugh at her pain. On shaking hands she forced herself to sit up.
But she didn’t care about their laughter. At that moment she was too scared. She didn’t look up; she kept her eyes on the ground in front of her. Too scared to look up. It was then she heard everyone quiet and then movement. The clicking of heels moved closer to her. It was then she saw black heels come into her view.
“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing.”
She heard a female speak. She knew that it was Amarantha. She just knew it was her. It caused a whimper to escape her lips as she kept her eyes on the floor. But soon she felt fingers tangle their way into her long hair and then a yelp escaped her. As her head was forced back.
“So, tell me little fairy what is your name?” Amarantha questioned her with a grin. As she ran her fingers from her hair down to her cheek. Then up to her longer than average fae ear that was pointed. A gasp left her lips hearing Amarantha call her ‘little fairy’. This meant she probably knew what and who she was and that scared her even more.
But she kept her mouth shut not wanting to give her name. Which Amarantha didn’t like. She was then grabbing her sensitive ear and pulling harshly. Causing her to cry out. But she didn’t speak her name. Leading Amarantha to raise her hand and slap her harshly against her cheek. So hard she fell to the floor with a sob. It led many to laugh.
“Oh shut up! Now I am only going to ask this once more. And if you don’t answer me I’m going to cut off one of those cute ears you have. So, what is your name?” Amarantha threatened before asking again. Reaching a hand out she was quickly given a sharp dagger. Sitting up again she didn’t know if she should tell her name. She was contemplating if she should. But she seemed to have taken too long because Amarantha was kneeling again. She then had a harsh grip on her ear and began to drag the sharp pointed dagger harshly on her ear.
“Y/n! I - It’s Y/n,” She cried out in pain, her ear now bleeding. She knew it would leave a scar. Amarantha was then letting her ear go and grinned, satisfied with the answer. She still had her eyes on Y/n. Who still had yet to meet her eyes. She didn’t seem to care because her eyes were focused on Y/n. She then muttered, ‘hmmm I wonder’ to herself.
She was then grabbing her cream colored dress and was soon cutting the back of it. A cry was heard from Y/n as she tried to get away. She didn’t want her to see. She had to keep them hidden. But before she could crawl away she was grabbed by the chain on her collar around her neck and pulled closer to Amarantha. Who continued to cut and rip at the back of her dress. As she did, markings were soon revealed and seen. Black lines and curves were marked on her back and the back of her arms. They seemed to be the markings of wings.
“There they are. I guess they were right. A little spy told me that you are a rare powerful creature. A very rare elemental fairy,” Amarantha laughed. But many gasps were heard from the crowd who were looking at her. Seeing the markings on her back. She didn’t know what to do besides trying to hold the front of her dress up.
Trying to keep herself covered. And holding her bleeding ear. As many more tears fell down her soft cheeks. She was supposed to keep what she was a secret. She was supposed to be a secret… but not anymore. Everyone now knew and many more would know. But a whimper escaped her lips at what Amarantha said next.
“But now you're my new pet,” Amarantha taunted with a grin. She chuckled as she grabbed the front of the collar around Y/n’s neck pulling her closer. She tried to pull away again not wanting to be anywhere near her. But it was no use. She wished she could be anywhere else. But she knew she wasn’t going to get what she wished for.
“Get her cleaned up and take her to my guest chambers. Oh and don’t try anything with that magic you have little fairy. Those cuffs and that collar will stop it and it will backfire. You will only be able to use them if I see fit and if I give you permission,” Amarantha demanded as she stood up pushing her away. But still with a grin upon her lips. Soon a guard was walking forward and grabbing her arm and dragged her away once again. As someone a female followed after them. A sob escaped Y/n as he dragged her away.
But there were a pair of violet eyes on her never leaving her. Having felt a pull towards her like no other. Which they knew and understood what it was instantly. They were trying to hide their pain, awe, and shock behind a mask. Trying to hold themselves together and hold back from running to her. Wanting to have her in their arms and to take her far away from this place. But they knew they couldn’t. It took everything in them to keep their emotions in check and hidden to keep their mask in place. Because they just realize they may have found their mate.
Rhysand the High Lord of Night Court just realized he just may have found his mate. And he couldn’t do anything to take her away from this horrible place and that broke his heart.
°˖✧✿✧˖°★°˖✧✿✧˖°
It had been a few days now and she was stuck in a room, a sobbing mess. After a night with Amarantha doing anything she wanted with her. But just thinking about what had happened caused her to let out another sob. As she curled into herself, hugging herself tightly. She wished that she could be anywhere else and that she didn’t have to go through such things. But it had already happened and there was nothing she could do. And she knew it would happen again and it pained her.
She soon saw flashes of moments of what happened. Feeling Amarantha’s hands on her and more. Seeing the marks she had left on her skin. She was then sitting up quickly. She then started pulling harshly at the cuffs that were still on her and the collar.
She remembers trying to use her magic while Amarantha touched her. But all it did was inflict pain on herself and made Amarantha laugh at her attempts. Before she threatened to search for her family and end them if she didn’t stop. Which led her to stop fighting and to let her do as she pleased and did as she was told. Not wanting anything to happen to her family. She would make sure nothing happened to them.
Another cry escaped her lips as she made an attempt to use her magic. But all it did was inflict pain on herself. Right now it took to burning her skin. Crying at the pain and memories. She didn’t know what to do besides keep pulling at the cuffs. As she kept using her magic not caring if it hurt her. Not caring if it left marks on her skin. She didn’t care. She just wanted them off and to be somewhere else. She wanted to be with her family. She didn’t want any of this. And at that moment she was so lost that she didn’t realize that someone had entered the room. Opening the door quietly sneaking into the room. But seeing her they were quick to move to her.
She jumped when strong large hands came into view and grabbed hers. Careful of the cuffs on her wrists digging into her now damaged skin. Making sure not to touch them. But quickly stopping her from pulling at the cuffs on her wrists and from using her magic. A cry escaped her once again as she tried to pull away. But they kept a gentle but firm grip on her. As she looked at the one who stopped her she gasped just as they did.
Her eyes clashed with violet ones.
Both looked perplexed at each other. Because as soon as their eyes met unexpectedly a golden bond formed slightly stronger between the two. That was now noticeable to the two. A rare bond that they could feel in their chest… a mating bond. But looking at him taking him in, she knew who he was instantly.
He was Rhysand the High Lord of Night Court. He was truly handsome. The stories and rumors didn’t do him justice. But as she looked at him he looked at her with awe. Yes, he knew she was probably his mate a few days ago. But now he knew it for sure… she was his mate. And he couldn’t help but look at her in awe. He couldn’t believe he really found her.
Y/n though was stuck in thought. Having remembered hearing the rumors about him. And she didn’t know what to think. She didn’t even know what to say. She was frozen with her gaze on him. He was her mate. She didn’t know how to feel. She didn’t know if she wanted to wrap her arms around him or pull away. But she soon shook her shocked state away when he let her go gently. Not wanting to overwhelm her anymore than what she already was. He didn’t want to do that to her.
“Sorry. You were… hurting yourself. I - you shouldn’t do that,” Rhysand said after clearing his throat. After stumbling over his words slightly. His eyes still on her taking her in. She was gorgeous. But taking in her state and the scent lingering in the room he knew what had happened. He knew what Amarantha had done to her, his mate.
It led him to clench his jaw in anger. It was such a strong emotion that washed over him. Which caused her to flinch feeling such a thing through their new bond that they shared together. But she shook it off seeing Rhysand send her a small smile that said ‘sorry’. She after a moment couldn’t help but look at him and say it. Still in a state of shock that he was her mate. She couldn’t help but voice it.
“You’re m - my mate,” she whispered, afraid to say it louder. More so stating a fact then asking. Not taking her eyes off of him. She couldn’t believe she had just found her mate. Nor could she believe that he was the High Lord of Night Court. And now as she looked at him he didn’t seem like the one from the rumors she had heard from people. He seemed kind, vulnerable even as he looked at her. But she soon remembered what the winds had whispered to her about him. She watched as a small smile washed over Rhysand hearing her say such a thing.
“Yes I am. But can you come with me, my flower? If you want,” Rhysand cooed. Reaching out a hand for her to take. Waiting for her to reach and take his hand in hers. Giving her the choice to come with him. Looking from him to his hand she was hesitant. But after a few seconds she shakingly grabbed it. She didn’t know where he was taking her. But part of her wanted to follow him, her mate. She thought he wouldn’t hurt her right. So she did follow after him. As she kept a close watch on the bond they shared. Taking notice of slight emotions flowing to her from him. Shakingly she began to crawl her way out of the bed.
As she got off the bed she almost fell but Rhysand was quick to catch her by her waist. Keeping the blanket in place that covered her bare body. Sending her a smile before removing his hands from her waist but kept a hold of her hand. He then began leading her to a door that led to a bathroom.
When they entered the room, Rhysand moved her to stand near the sink. As she stood she watched him move so gracefully and with purpose. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. She watched as he filled the large tub with warm water then added oils and what not. And after he was done she then watched as he held out a hand for her. Looking at his hand she took it again. He then moved her to the tub and took a step back.
“I will be out in the room if you need me. So we can talk when you are done. Take as long as you need. I will wait,” Rhysand informed her, about to leave the room wanting to give her privacy. But before he could turn and leave she stopped him. Keeping a firm grip on his hand. Leading him to look at her with a slight tilt of his head with curiosity. It was then he saw she now had a fearful look upon her face as she looked up at him.
“You’ll actually stay right? You promise,” she asked softly but with a shaky voice. As she kept her gaze on him, her eyes never leaving his. She didn’t want him to leave her. Not after she just found out that he was her mate. She didn’t know exactly how she felt about it. But she just didn’t want to lose him so soon. A part of her wanted him close and near. She just wanted her mate. Seeing her look at him in such a way caused him to send her a small meaningful smile.
“I promise I won’t leave you. There are things we need to discuss. Plus I just found you… I’m not leaving your side unless I need or have to,” Rhysand soothed. Bringing her hand closer to him he pulled her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon it. Careful of the cuff still around her wrist that no longer had chains connected to them as they did when she first came. As he did such a gesture he sent reassurance to her through the bond. Which led her to sigh in relief.
Nodding, she watched as he released her hand gently and left the room. Giving her privacy as he closed the door gently behind him. Sighing again she turned to the warm steaming bath. Taking in the scent and bath caused a small smile to wash over her. Thinking he did such a thing for her. She shook it away and allowed the blanket to drop and stepped into the bath.
As she sat and started to clean herself. She began to think about her mate… Rhysand. Many thoughts came to her mind. Remembering what she had heard from the winds about him. Then hearing the rumors that fae said about him. A sigh escaped her lips not knowing what to think of him. But then a thought came to her mind causing her to freeze.
Would he even truly accept her as his mate or reject her? Thinking it caused a soft gasp to escape her lips. Before worry filled her. Would she survive such a thing… rejection? Would she survive him not wanting her as his mate? Taking a deep breath she soon released a tired breath. Before hugging her legs to her chest and leaning her head on her knees. Closing her eyes she took deep breaths trying to keep her tears at bay. Then another thought came to her mind.
How were they even going to go about this bond in such a place if they were to accept each other as mates? If they did they would most likely have to keep it hidden. And soon many more things came to her mind. Hitting her like a crashing wave in the ocean almost drowning her in the depths of dark waters.
Many bad and horrifying thoughts washed over her mind. But she was quick to try and shake her head. She tried to calm herself but found it hard. That is until she felt reassurance flow to her. Starting from her chest and flowing throughout her body. She knew it must have been Rhysand through the bond she has yet to really fully grasp. She couldn’t help the small smile that now washed over her. It caused her to sigh again before she started to wash herself once again.
In that moment she stopped her motions as she remembered one of the things her mother always says to her.
“Take one step at a time. Take it minute by minute, day by day. We have long lives ahead of us. There’s nothing wrong with taking your time with certain things. So there’s no need to worry so much all at once.”
She remembered her mother saying to her once. And repeating such a thing on more than one occasion. It caused her to smile thinking of her mother. It felt like forever since she last saw her mother. She just hopes that her family is safe after everything. She then shook the thought away trying not to overthink about them. Not wanting to sink into such worry and thoughts.
After she was done washing she soon made her way out of the bath. Grabbing the towel that was already out. Drying herself off, she looked at the mirror to find herself staring back at her. Her eyes didn’t have their usual bright glow. Her skin was paler without having a certain glow. Her body was littered with marks and scratches. Then there were the collar and cuffs on her that were very noticeable. She could see the red marks that were under them.
But she was quick to turn and move her long hair over her shoulder to look at her back and arms. The black lines and curves and marks were still there and intact… her wings. They were still there. But there were a few marks causing her to sigh. Her back was and always would be sensitive along with her long pointed ears. Which led her to reach to her ear that now had a long scar on it. She didn’t like it but she would have to live with it. She would have to live with everything causing her to sigh in defeat.
Shaking her head of such thoughts. She soon tightened her grip on her towel around her frame. Looking at the sink she found a dress neatly folded with undergarments. She wondered when they appeared but didn’t think much of it. Knowing Rhysand must have used his magic to make them appear for her. It made a light blush appear over her cheeks thinking of it, about him.
But she didn’t linger on the thought long. Not wanting to go down that path. Not yet anyway. Not without talking to him first. To see where they stand. Reaching out she was quick to put on the clothing and then made her way to the door. But she stopped in front of it for a moment.
Listening, she could hear the flipping of pages and the sound of a soft heartbeat that seemed to quicken sometimes. She knew who it was… Rhysand, her mate. She could feel how close he was through the bond they shared. With the mating bond they share she didn’t know what was going to happen between them. All she could do was hope that all would go well. Soon she was gathering up the little courage she had. She then took a deep breath and opened the door. So she could face what was to come with her now having a mate.
Lacuna Taglist -
ladespedidas
daughterofthemoons-stuff
#rhysand reader#rhysand x reader#rhysand x oc#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acotar x oc#thefaithfulnightwriter#rhysand x you#feyre x oc#feyre x reader#feyre archeron#feyre x rhysand#feysand x oc#feysand x reader
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Threatening Sentences, Vol. 5
(Sentences from various sources for threats to and from a muse. Adjust phrasing where needed)
"You better watch it. You know my reputation?"
"Nobody is untouchable."
"I've been shot too many times to be scared by a gun."
"I'll give you a choice. You can walk out of here and never come back, keep your mouth shut... The other choice, I don't think I need to go into much detail about."
"Nothing changes behaviour like pain."
"Think twice about playing games with me; I will blow you to pieces."
"Blackmail? Go on, then. With everything you've done, you'll be going down with me."
"We execute traitors. Didn't you know that?"
"You best be looking over your shoulder because if we cross paths again, I'm going to bury your whole family."
"I came back to finish you off."
"I know what you're afraid of me. It's okay; I'd be afraid too."
"If you come after me, you better bring more than that pretty smile."
"Turn around and put your hands in the air now!"
"Don't ever fuck with me. I will know."
"I'm a hair's breadth from riddling you with holes!"
"I can get everything I want from you even if you only have nine fingers, or perhaps only one eye."
"I'm going to wear your head as a watch fob."
"The prospect of death is strong motivation."
"Will you stop playing dumb? I can't stand it when cops play dumb!"
"I'd tread very carefully if I were you. You, of all people, should know what I am capable of."
"You know, I will shoot you! I will shoot you in the liver!"
"If you want to live to see another day, you'll be out of town by nightfall."
"What's the most pain you've ever felt in your life?"
"Do I need to remind you what happened last time you pushed me too far?"
"I have a job for you. If you want to stay alive, you're going to accept it."
"If you like breathing, you might want to fix this."
"If you put your hand around my neck, you'll lose it."
"How nice to see you properly dressed for a change!"
"Never underestimate the power of incentive."
"Make so much as a sound, and a bullet goes through your throat."
"I may not be allowed to kill you, but that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to hurt you."
"As bad as you think things are now, they're going to get much worse."
"Put that down or I'll blow your head off!"
"Say what you want, but I promise you, you'll be dead by dawn."
"I don't believe that anybody's coming to look for you."
"Do you really think you can win?"
"If you plan on exposing me, then my only option will be to kill you."
#rp meme#rp memes#roleplay meme#roleplay memes#rp prompts#roleplay prompts#sentence starters#assorted;#threatening;
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queen you know ily but i still want y/n to be bitter and resentful pleeeeaaaaase
One moment you were texting with Kyungsoo, the next you were lying on the floor of the apartment you shared with Yoonsu, ears ringing from how hard he had hit you on the side of your head from behind. You saw his feet appear in front of your face, then he pulled your head up by your hair, making you wince.
Shit. You didn't even hear him coming. He caught you red-handed, then—like you gave a fuck. The blackmail was gone now, there was nothing he could use to threaten you anymore.
He scrolled on your secret phone, reading the messages you exchanged with Detective Do.
"Wow, you're one disloyal bitch. You've been talking to another man behind my back." Yoonsu seethed, letting your hair go.
Your head dropped to the floor, and you could finally move freely again. As you struggled to get your bearings (why the fuck did he hit so hard this time?), Yoonsu sent a reply to Kyungsoo's text and threw the phone out of the window.
You were trying to crawl away from where he was, your head spinning too wildly to let yourself stand back up, making him scoff at the pathetic sight. He followed you closely, actually curious to where you were heading.
You were heading to the kitchen, it seemed.
"Good for you for getting rid of the blackmail, Y/N, but you do know what this means, right?" He sounded off—talking to you like you were an audience member of his own live TV show.
When you could finally stand up again, getting to your knees as you began to stand on your feet, he kicked you in the stomach. Cheap shots and low blows—Cha Yoonsu, how he has fallen so far from his fearsome status. Pathetic and cowardly was all that remained of the man who had been subjugating you through blackmail.
You had to laugh at it—how could you not? Never mind the stabbing pains in your stomach as you gurgled in laughter while writhing in pain on your back.
"Fuck—do you remember when people used to fear you, Yoonsu?" You giggled out.
That earned you a kick to your arm.
"Are you gonna talk about how much of a coward I'm now? Wanna talk about how I have no dignity left?" He hissed, crouching down next to you.
He watched you closely as you sat up.
"You know how to read minds now?" You bit out and that earned you a punch to the face.
He didn't give you a chance to recover, pulling your hair up so your face could face his. He was beyond angry, you could clearly see that, but he had always been angry. This time, he was being reckless with his anger, explosive instead of simmering. You held your cheek, the warmth of your hand easing the pain.
"Well, maybe I am a coward now, but so are you. You have always been a coward, Y/N. Sure, I pushed you to isolate yourself from your people, but it was you who still did it anyway—all because you didn't want those slutty pictures of you to spread. And you wanna make me believe you pushed them away because you were being selfless? Didn't want them to get involved in our mess? No! You were being selfish, Y/N, so stop deluding yourself that you're anything but." He tugged on your hair so your face was pulled closer to his.
Your spunky behavior from just a moment before was wiped out of you. No more gutsy comebacks, no more smart quips. No more being a smartass. When fear surfaced in your eyes, Yoonsu didn't dare to delude himself that you were getting afraid of him—he knew it was actually you fearing what was coming out his mouth.
Because both of you were taking what he was saying as the truth.
"If only you were actually brave enough in confronting your past, accept that it happened to you—but you didn't want to. You wanted to live in a fantasy land where none of it even happened in the first place, all the while whining 'You don't know what I've been through! I don't deserve this! Wah! You hurt my feelings! You don't know that the things you said just hurt me!'—GOD! Those guys were saints for putting up with you." He laughed, patting your cheek.
"You're so selfish, you fled Gangnam after that botched operation to arrest me—because you couldn't stand facing Detective Kim anymore when everyone knew that Junyoung got killed because of you. Because that idiot cared too much for a selfish, cowardly girl like you. He's probably rolling in his grave at your school's abandoned plant nursery, Y/N, because you ABANDONED HIM." You shrieked when Yoonsu began to yell at you, and it annoyed him so much, he slapped you.
"I did your brother a favor for making you isolate yourself from him. He's better off without you. A rising star like him would be better off without a dead weight. I did everyone in your life a great favor. Since you love them so much, you should be grateful to me, you selfish bitch."
He threw your head to the ground, watching you break down in tears. Since you were already in the kitchen, he headed to the counters and took out a knife.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Kyungsoo pressed on the gas, knowing the way to the apartment you shared with Yoonsu like the back of his hand—he's been prowling around the apartment for days now, of course he'd know. He cut off a Ford F150, tuning out the honk directed at him.
"Detective Do!" Taeyong let out, and Kyungsoo pressed on the gas more.
"We're running out of time, Taeyong!"
Geonwoo held his breath when a car suddenly cut him from his right, while Woojin let out a string of curses that would have his own mother petrified if she heard it. Mark and Yuno held on their seatbelts, shocked when the car almost did a break check.
"You both okay?" Woojin asked with a firm tone, Geonwoo still focusing on the road.
"Y-Yeah. What was the guy's problem?" Mark choked out.
"Who fucking knows—but don't mind it too much. We have a big celebration tonight. We're almost there anyway."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
You stared at Yoonsu bleeding out right before you, as you pressed on your own stab wound. It all happened so fast, and you wanted to yell at him, ask him why he so suddenly stabbed himself in the throat after stabbing you in the stomach.
But to watch Yoonsu bleed out while wearing Junyoung's face was a stuff of your nightmares, and Yoonsu was staring straight at you until the light in his eyes was finally snuffed out.
It felt like you were watching Junyoung himself dying in front of you.
You crawled over to his body, taking out his phone. You stared at it for a while, your hands shaking from the shock of the pain. With the amount of blood you were losing—was it gonna make a difference if you called 119 now?
Were you going to die this way?
You dialed Yuno's number, devastated when he didn't pick up after you tried three more times. So you gritted your teeth and started to put in Mark's number instead.
If you were going to die, you at least wanted to talk with your loved ones before you...go. You put the phone to your ear, tears dripping down your face, like the blood that dripped down your wound.
"Listen, Jaehyun's gonna sue you if you—" You hear Mark's heated voice, and you realise that since you were calling him using Yoonsu's phone, it was an unknown number to them. They probably assumed you were one of Jaehyun's stalkers.
"Minhyung." You slurred out.
Mark on the other end of the line froze in his steps, standing stupidly near the truck as the others were already entering the café. He pulled the phone away, but it still displayed the unknown number. Why were you calling through an unknown number? He then realised you had called him 'Minhyung' instead of 'Mark'.
"Y/N, why are you calling through this number?" Mark sighed, pinching on his temples.
"Can't find my phone. Is Yuno with you?" You slurred on your words, staring out the windows, feeling weaker by the moment. It made it sound like you were drunk, and Mark seethed at your inebriated state.
"Are you drunk? At 7 PM? Seriously?"
"Please just give the phone to Yuno, I—"
"No. If you really want to talk to him, you'd come here. No one's gonna lock you and your Junyoung out the doors, Y/N. Just show up, for fuck's sake." Mark held himself back from raising his voice, and that's when he noticed Haechan was beckoning for him to get inside the café already through the windows.
Mark held up a hand, then pointed at the phone, mouthing your name. Haechan rolled his eyes when he understood Mark was on call with you, and left him alone.
"I can't come, Minhyung, but I...I still want to congratulate him. Just please—"
"No, I don't wanna do that, Y/N! Jaehyun wants you to show up, not hear you drunkenly give out a half-assed congratulations through the phone. You'd just make him sad at his own party. If that's all, goodbye."
He dropped the call, turning off his phone and shoving it into his pocket before getting into the café.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Kyungsoo kicked on the door, but it didn't budge, so he rammed at it instead. It resulted in him falling into the apartment face first, but he got to brace the fall with his knees and hands—so he didn't faceplant into the floor this time, thank you very much. When he raised his head, he saw the blood trail in the kitchen area.
Taeyong saw it from the front entrance and he beat his partner to it as he raced into the kitchen. He felt his breath getting stuck in his throat when he saw the two bodies on the tiled kitchen floor, blood everywhere. He went straight to you while Kyungsoo from behind him went to Yoonsu as Taeyong was already checking for your pulse.
Taeyong felt your pulses, it was there, but it was weak. He took out his walkie talkie and immediately called for the ambulance.
As you were getting wheeled into the ambulance with Kyungsoo by your side, Taeyong got into the car, determined that he would be the one to inform the people you wrote out in your list. He opened his jacket, and—the list wasn't there. Feeling himself panic, he began to search the whole car, as Kyungsoo was already getting into the ambulance.
The list was gone.
The list was gone.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
You woke up to the sound of the heart monitor beeping, and you turned your head to the side to see Kyungsoo getting up from his seat to look at you more closely. You were wearing an oxygen mask and you pulled it to the side.
"Taeyong, get the doctor! Shit—keep the mask on kid. The bastard stabbed you through your lung. Do you—do you wanna say something?"
You nodded, placing the mask pressed against your cheek.
"Have you reached the people on my list?"
Kyungsoo felt his heart constrict at your question. Dumbass Taeyong—he lost the list. And even when they did retrieve your brother's address and contact information, he neither picked up his phone nor was he at the condo. He was currently unreachable—and so was your dad.
He shook his head, regret marring his expression.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, but we lost your list. If you could—"
"Good."
Kyungsoo snapped his head at you, eyebrows furrowed.
"What?"
"I said good. I don't want them to be here, and I don't want you to try and reach them anymore. I'd rather be alone right now, so I would appreciate it if you kept it this way."
Kyungsoo was just about to ask you what you meant by that, but that's when Taeyong came in with the doctor and nurses. They pushed the detectives away as they checked on you, and Kyungsoo finally noticed just how empty you looked.
You looked utterly defeated.
A/N : since y'all wanted to see Y/N be bitter so much, here you go then 😒
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Spoilers for Transformers One.
On the one hand, I do think Orion was right when he said "rebuilding Iacon cannot begin with an execution" (they'd just thoroughly trounced Sentinel in every way, he wasn't a threat anymore, there wasn't an immediate need to kill him beyond the desire for revenge).
On the other hand, on a purely visceral level I do not have a problem with Sentinel getting ripped in half because fuck that guy lmao. Get your revenge, Dee, you deserve it.
But on the other other hand, I do believe that Orion's actions were motivated not by any desire to save Sentinel, but by concern for Dee. (I think these posts make a good point about that; it doesn't seem that Orion was even deliberately trying to sacrifice himself when he got shot, I think he just wanted to get between Dee and Sentinel so he could talk to Dee.)
But on the other other other hand, Orion really did not choose his words well in that scene. "Don't be like Sentinel" was the WORST thing he could've possibly said, all things considered. A while ago I saw a post that described it as "telling a victim they're just as bad as their abuser" and yeah, I agree with that assessment. That probably wasn't how Orion intended that to come off, but there's no way it wouldn't have sounded like that to Dee. Maybe it wouldn't have been possible to talk Dee down from killing Sentinel in that moment, but if it had been at all possible, that was definitely not the way to do it.
However, while this leads to a horrible outcome for the characters, I'm not sure it's such a bad thing for the narrative. It's painfully realistic, actually. Sometimes, people who have nothing but good intentions will say stupid, hurtful things. Sometimes, when someone is in a state where all they can feel is pain and rage, they will lash out without thinking of the consequences, and in doing so they might hurt someone they love. Obviously in the real world this does not usually involve a giant robot shooting another giant robot with a laser cannon, but that's one of the great things about sci-fi and fantasy; a laser cannon can be a metaphor for the horrors we face in real life.
Also, based on Orion's behaviour up until that point in the movie, it's pretty in-character for him to say the worst possible thing at the worst possible time to someone who is clearly suffering. You can tell he has a lot of compassion and generally means well, but that doesn't stop him from being an insensitive dick at times. And I like that. I like it when characters have Layers. (Orion and Dee both have a lot of Layers, and I am fascinated by the way some of the same personality traits manifest very differently in each of them, but that's not what this post is about, perhaps I'll ramble about that another time.)
Basically what I'm saying is:
I think Orion was both right and wrong (right about it not being necessary to kill Sentinel, and right that a public execution was a bad fucking idea; very, very wrong in the way he expressed that to Dee),
I'm not going to say Dee did nothing wrong, but I completely understand where he is coming from (and I'd be lying if I said that when he killed Sentinel there wasn't a part of my brain screaming YEAAAAH, YOU GO GIRL, RIP THAT FUCKER APART),
I think that Optimus Prime should have flaws and fuck up sometimes, because that makes him more interesting as a character, and in the case of TF1, because having him inadvertently contribute to Dee's downward spiral adds to the tragedy of it all (and I do think this movie can rightly be called a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions),
and, above all,
FUCK Sentinel Prime. Seriously, fuck that guy SO much.
#transformers#transformers one#optimus prime#orion pax#megatron#d 16#sentinel prime#spoilers#maccadam#now if you'll excuse me i have to go sit in a corner and cry over the cartoon robots yet again. everyone is welcome to join me.#in which i post#text post
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I just don't know how to deal with my hatred for "the world" that has grown anymore. Because that's what I feel has been growing in me in response to seeing the unrepentant, seemingly completely sanctioned antisemitism that I see anywhere on the internet where Jews are mentioned as Jewish and not as token mouthpieces for them to hate the rest of us with. I know it's not really 'The World' any more than it's 'The Jews.' I know that thinking is bad for me. But it's just so everywhere. And then when people say it doesn't exist, it just confirms to me that they think it's normal to call us scheming, baby-killing monsters who think we're better than anyone for having our own goddamn culture and not giving it up the second they want us to - or for REACTING to the shit THEY did to us for AGES, through SO many places, which they don't want to hear about because it's all 'an excuse.' I used to love humanity. I used to think people were good. Now, every time I see someone posting a cute picture of playing with a goddamn puppy, I just think, "You'd happily celebrate the human's death if somebody told you they were an Israeli Jew and nothing else." A teenage hostage gets released and talks about how she's been scarred by her experience and traumatized by how the world celebrated it, and they say her 'whining' is proof that she deserved it. I don't know what to do with all this hatred anymore. I don't know where to put it or how to process it or how to stay rational. I keep feeling like if they insist that peace not be an option, that the only option is the logical alternative. And then I have to remind myself: there is no 'they' you can strike. Just a bunch of people who have also been driven mad by the awful circumstances of the world we're all in, and were given a convenient, mostly theoretical target to blame it all for. They're in pain and they're making a mistake you might make if you were fed the same misinformation and propaganda. But there's only so much that does to stop the way I am boiling over with poisonous hate, all of which was once love.
.
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the tiger and his milk! 🐯
in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...
warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop
word count; 6.5k
dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto
do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...
moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.
being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid.
that, and also-
strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.
setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.
your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.
even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.
tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.
walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.
"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.
dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.
"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."
you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.
sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...
but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.
once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.
you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...
you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-
what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-
your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.
at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.
you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.
but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.
your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.
the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.
"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.
"need help?"
sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.
"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.
but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.
"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.
he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.
sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.
and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.
the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?
well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.
by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.
you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.
"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.
"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.
"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."
he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.
"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.
"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."
you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.
"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.
he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.
"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."
you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.
"...we're neighbours, after all."
you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.
"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.
seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.
"thanks for the drink. see you."
it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.
not at all...
the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.
it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.
such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.
today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.
nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.
you can feel your breasts leaking again.
just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.
your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.
the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...
it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.
you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...
just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.
who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.
but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.
sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.
he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.
"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.
sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...
"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.
"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.
"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.
"hold on a second."
you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.
once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?
in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.
your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.
sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.
"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.
"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.
he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.
your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.
"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.
you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.
you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.
"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.
"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.
sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.
"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.
sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.
"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.
not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching against the couch. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.
the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder under him, becoming pliant with his touch.
sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...
his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.
"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.
he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.
"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.
sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.
your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.
sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.
he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.
"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.
sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.
your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.
sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.
"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.
"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.
"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.
"shut up, you."
in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.
you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.
"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.
"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.
you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.
he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.
you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.
"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.
he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...
"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.
the realisation hits you like a truck.
"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.
and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.
you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.
as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.
he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.
"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.
you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.
"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.
your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.
"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.
and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.
you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.
"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.
sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.
"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."
his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.
you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.
"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.
he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.
sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.
when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.
his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.
the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.
sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.
sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...
but you make him feel so right.
and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.
"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.
you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.
the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.
"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.
"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.
"hold onto me."
he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.
when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.
the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.
he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.
sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.
you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.
his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.
his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.
you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.
"f-fu-uuck..." he drones out, his voice dragging the curse word out.
you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.
sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.
you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.
you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.
once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.
problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.
you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.
"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.
"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.
"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.
when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.
"finally awake?"
"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.
"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.
"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."
"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.
"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.
you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.
"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.
"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.
you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.
"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.
"hm. well, how about steak?"
"... is that a threat?"
sukuna bursts into laughter.
he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.
unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.
after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.
when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...
the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!
originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...
btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...
anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn
often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy
thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.
and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.
and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"
there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.
"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?" a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.
it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.
also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.
when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you
he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.
shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.
the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.
the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days
the end
Masterlist
#sukuna x reader#jjk x reader#sukuna#jujutsu kaisen x reader#sukuna smut#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x y/n
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Renewed
Wade loses his head and comes back… different. Without his memories and his old face.
Logan stood over what remained of Wade Wilson, his claws still extended, jaw clenched tight. The fight was over-if it could even be called that. It had been a slaughter, and Logan had arrived too late to stop it. The mercenary's glowing axe had already done its work, severing Wade's head clean from his body.
Now, Wade's lifeless form lay sprawled in the dirt, his head several feet away, his mask shredded and stained. Logan should have been used to scenes like this, but something about it felt... final. Yet he knew better than to trust appearances. Wade's healing factor had a way of making the impossible possible, no matter how gruesome the damage.
Still, this time seemed different.
Logan crouched beside Wade's body, glaring at the broken pieces as if sheer willpower could force them to reassemble.
"C'mon, you idiot," he muttered. "Don't make me carry your pieces back to Xavier's. You'd never let me live it down."
For a long moment, nothing happened. No twitch, no spark of life. Logan's stomach tightened. Then, finally, there was a faint shimmer, almost imperceptible, in Wade's hand.
It began slowly—a spasm in the fingers, a flicker of red tissue stitching itself together at the jagged edge of Wade's neck. Logan stepped back, watching with a mixture of relief and unease as muscle and sinew began to weave together, layer by layer, like some macabre time-lapse of life returning to a broken body.
And then the face started to form.
Logan's breath caught in his throat.
This wasn't the face he expected-the ruined, scarred mask of a man who had seen too much pain. What emerged was... different. Smooth, pale skin stretched over the newly grown skull, unmarred and almost youthful. Thick, dark hair sprouted in messy waves, and the ridges of his features came into focus, too perfect, too clean.
Logan stared, dumbfounded, as Wade gasped and bolted upright, clutching his throat.
Wade looked at his hands first, then down at his body, before turning his gaze to Logan. His wide, brown eyes were unscarred and startlingly vulnerable.
"What... What's going on?" Wade rasped, his voice hoarse but softer than Logan had ever heard it.
"You tell me," Logan said, crossing his arms. His claws retracted, but his tone was guarded. "Do you remember anything?"
Wade blinked at him, confused. "I... I don't even know who I am." He looked at Logan, frowning slightly. "But I know you. At least, I think I do."
Logan stayed silent, his eyes narrowing.
Wade reached up to touch his face, brushing his fingers over his smooth cheeks and down to the faint scars on his neck.
Wade groaned as his head wobbled on his shoulders, trying to shake off the fog. He looked over at the dead, masked head that used to be his a couple feet away from his body beside him.
“My head… was cut off, right? That’s a fun Friday night. I’m feeling a little off, though. Like, something’s missing, but… also, everything’s missing? That about right?”
Logan knelt down, his expression hard to read as he watched Wade carefully. He wasn’t sure how to handle this version of him—the clean, almost innocent-looking Wade, like he hadn’t been through the hell that turned him into Deadpool. Like he hadn’t been through Logan’s version of hell, too.
“Yeah,” Logan said, voice gruff. “Some guy with a glowing axe took your head off. I got there too late to stop it. You were dead for a while. But you regenerate, so here you are.” He paused, eyeing Wade’s unscarred face, the almost too smooth skin. “It’s not the first time.”
Wade’s eyes flickered as he processed this, his brow furrowing. “Glowing axe… yeah, okay. That sounds like a fun night. Shoulda stuck with the bowling alley.” He rubbed the back of his neck, noticing the faint scars that lingered there. “But no, I definitely don’t remember that. Or you, for that matter. Hell, I can barely remember me.” He looked up at Logan, giving him a crooked grin. “But something about you feels… familiar. Like you’ve been around long enough to get sick of me. So… tell me again, who am I?” Oh he definitely could tell Logan was important… the utterly human, unmistakable chest deep feeling of attraction and want when he looked at Logan remained.
Logan shifted, uneasy with the lack of recognition in Wade’s eyes. “Your name’s Wade Wilson. You talk far too much, you make bad decisions, and you’ve been annoying the hell out of me for… too long.” He crossed his arms, trying to sound unaffected. “I’ve had to patch you up more times than I can count. You regenerate. You never stay dead.”
Wade looked down at his hands, as if willing the memories to come back, but nothing clicked. He gave Logan a tight-lipped smile.
“Alright, so… I’m an idiot with a death wish. Got it. But, uh… I’m guessing I was more than just an inconvenience for you, right? ‘Cause you’re still here. I can tell you’ve seen more of me than you probably wanted to. You, uh… don’t look like you hate me. Maybe a little? No? Maybe?” He leaned forward slightly, studying Logan with a quiet intensity.
Logan shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, trying to mask the sudden tightness in his chest. “You’ve been through a lot, Wade. We’ve been through a lot.”
Wade nodded, his smile softening for a moment before his usual playful demeanor slid back into place. “Yeah, I get it. You’ve got my back. Just… funny, because I’ve got this feeling like I’m supposed to be standing right here. With you. Whatever that means.” He paused, his grin turning sly. “You sure you’re not just putting up with me out of obligation? Because I really don’t mind if that’s your thing. I’d still be happy to—”
“Shut up, Wade,” Logan cut in, his voice rough, but the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t remember it, but yeah. We’ve got history. And you’re damn lucky I’m not leaving you out here to rot.”
Wade’s gaze softened, and for a moment, there was no sarcasm or jokes. Just an unspoken understanding between them. “Alright, so you’re… what? My unwilling savior?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Logan let out a low growl, shaking his head. “You’re gonna drive me crazy.”
Wade just smirked. “Wouldn’t be any fun if I didn’t.”
Logan sighed, shaking his head with an exhale of frustration. But there was a softness in his eyes that he couldn’t hide.
“Soooo… did we have a thing or?— because I’m really sure I’m totally into you even thought I can’t remember you.” Logan’s lips parted slightly, his brows furrowing.
They didn’t have a “thing”… not officially or anything— but Logan supposed it was a “thing” nonetheless.
None of them admitted it seriously though, even though Wade had always made jokes about their tension.
“No. We didn’t.”
“Oh? Well— that’s embarrassing isn’t?” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck “Why not?”
Logan didn’t know how to answer that question, he choked out a couple sounds, attempting to start a sentence, but he couldn’t form an explanation- he just finally came out with, “I don’t know?!” Clearly, bashful.
Wade felt around his body to see if he had a phone on him. He did— one with a pink Hello Kitty case and a charm on it. He opened the camera and gasped at his reflection. “God damn I’m sexy. You didn’t wanna piece of this? Oh— what’s your name? Can’t remember, silly me, right?”
“Not to burst your bubble but this is uh… new.. and my name is Logan, dumbass.” Logan grumbled, and Wade just returned his words with a confused expression. “What did I look like before?”
“Like Freddy Krueger.”
“So— what you’re saying is I got an upgrade?”
“Well… it’s definitely different.” He didn’t want to admit Wade was really hot to his face. He found him attractive even with his scars, so seeing him look… well… normal like this was even weirder for him.
“My question still remains, Logan. You didn’t want a piece of this? Because I’m definitely sure I want a piece of you.”
“Shut up before I cut your head off again and drag you back home while you’re still dead.”
“I’m soaking wet now, give an amnesia ridden girl a break.”
Logan’s claws came out in response.
#deadclaws#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool x wolverine#fanfiction#poolverine#deadpool movie#logan howlett#logan x wade#marvel#wade wilson#logan/wade#deadpool 3#deadpool 1#deadpool 2
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having a low grade panic attack for 10 hours straight, barely avoiding a melt down, and now I think I am having some kind of nuclear reactor malfunction in my brain. Cool beans. Just one solid “my days kind of suck too hard and I’m constantly confronted by not wanting to exist in a world where people inflict so much pain on others without reason”
You know like I can’t fix my own life and I can’t do anything to fix anyone else’s either, and I also can’t stop myself from getting too in my head in unproductive empathy? Anything I can do is just a drop in the ocean getting too caught up in sadness does nothing but make my days worse which in turn makes me feel more fragile and worse when I hear of something else bad and entirely preventable happen
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