#i am still looking for a good alternate skin in this form

[lonewildling]

some updates.

[mononijikayu]

wife — nanami kento.

“I don’t like the way they’re looking at you.” You whisper to him. “Let them, honey.” he said, his deep voice rich with certainty. “That’s all they can do.” He took your hand, calloused but gentle, and squeezed it just enough to send a rush of comfort through you. His thumb traced the side of your hand in a subtle, soothing gesture. The cool metal of his ring finger brushes against your skin with intent.  “They should know that I am exactly where I choose to be. I’m a married man, after all.”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: romance, marriage, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, p to v sex, toilet sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (baby, honey), possesiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, if your partner isn't nanami kento then don't have him ladies, gents and non-binary friends;

WORD COUNT: 6.6k words.

NOTE: nanami kento won the poll, so here we are!!! its relatively shorter than the current style i have, but i hope you still like it. and yes, i added a spoiler for shoko and geto's sister (since shoko won #2 in the poll, she also gets a fic!!!). they are still together cause god knows they need love and care after all they have been through. anyway, i hope you all enjoy this!!! i love you all and see you in the next one <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

THIS WAS A RARE OPPORTUNITY.  You don’t like going to these high social events at all, not even outside Jujutsu society. You were a homebody, you adored having time to yourself. But you can’t ignore Gojo Satoru’s invitation. Even if you want to.

He’s been so good to your Kento and he’s always making sure that none of the old farts are making his life miserable. So you felt inclined to go. You felt inclined to play a little bit with this world. 

The grand hall of Gojo manor was resplendent, a wash of gold and white with shimmering drapes that caught the light of the crystal chandeliers overhead. Gojo Satoru was not thrilled to host the gathering. But since it was his duty as the Gojo clan head and he had to play nice with all these people — he gave in and threw the party.

Of course, he refused to make it exclusively a sorcerer only gathering. He wanted to ensure that it was open to everyone, even yourself. That in itself breaks tradition. More often than not, it was only sorcerers, especially those in the higher echelons of Jujutsu society, who were allowed to come and enjoy such liberties. 

But of course, Gojo Satoru was not such a man of tradition. He hated it, as much as your Kento. So, of course, to enjoy you and Kento’s company and to spite all these snobs, he made sure to invite you and everyone else.

You find that you’re at least enjoying the building’s architecture. You were a fan of architecture, in all forms and culture. You and your husband Kento shared that passion, more so when you both were in Denmark or when you both were in the countryside. 

Still, Gojo manor was not too bad. You marvel at the intricate carvings on the walls depicting centuries of legendary battles and heroics of history gone by. Each one was a reminder that this was not just a gathering but a showcase of the Jujutsu world's most powerful and influential. 

Sorcerers mingled, their robes embroidered with clan symbols and sigils that spoke of generations of power and prestige. Conversations buzzed with a mix of guarded politeness and subtle rivalry.

The room alive with an undercurrent of competition disguised as small talk. The sound of polite laughter mixed with the clink of glasses filled with aged sake, its delicate aroma weaving through the air like a ghost.

You stood near the buffet table, the scent of delicacies. Gojo Satoru did well with getting everything together for this, especially the food, all high quality — only the best of the Gojo clan head’s tastes. You both think the same in that exquisite taste. 

That certainly is why you were excited to taste everything. From the perfectly grilled yakitori, dainty bowls of ikura don, to the plates piled with fresh sashimi and brilliantly wrapped hamachi. They were all wafting around you. They were all perfect for you.

“I regret wearing this dress.” You tell yourself in a small mumble. “It’s too tight and I forgot Gojo likes good food like me. I thought he would have left it to his goons to decide the food menu…”

You were dressed in an elegant but simple gown, a deep navy blue that skimmed your figure without the drama of glittering embellishments or the boldness of vibrant silks. Compared to the ostentatious displays around you, it felt almost understated, but it was you.

You could hardly care about the fashions of Jujutsu society. You liked your fashion. And your husband did too. That was all that mattered. You adjusted the silver cuff on your wrist, a small but meaningful gift from Nanami, its cool weight reassuring against your skin.

You glanced around, eyes catching a few familiar faces. There was Nitta Akari from administration and management, gesturing animatedly as she spoke with her colleagues, her face flushed with excitement. Mei Mei stood nearby, her icy beauty undiminished by the cool smirk she wore. 

She held court as always, eyes sharp as a hawk’s as she listened, spoke, and effortlessly commanded the attention of everyone within earshot. Hell, there was Usami too — but he was surrounded by those vultures from the conservative factions. 

But most of the women were like the wives of powerful clan leaders. They represented their husbands, who thought it too boring to join the gathering or rather were abandoned by their husbands to do other things. 

Yet they were powerful women in their own right and they wanted you to know it. They wanted for you to see it, so badly. Their outfits elaborate displays of status, from the gold-threaded kimonos to the jewels woven into their hair.  Their makeup was meticulous, brows arched and lips painted in deep shades of crimson or plum. 

Most of them were interesting to gawk at. But you were certain they thought the same about you. Especially those specific women. It was those more haughty women, clan women under the big three who glanced your way with subtle, evaluating eyes.

You could feel their scrutiny as tangibly as the satin ribbons brushing your wrists. A fan fluttered as a woman whispered behind it, her gaze cutting sideways toward you. She looked as haughty and dry as her entire face.

“Do you think she really fits in here?” one murmured, just loud enough for the question to reach your ears.

“I heard she’s not even a sorcerer.” came the response, this time with a touch of incredulity. “Yet they let her come near our children, to teach them about a world they don’t dwell in. Pathetic waste of time!” 

You pretended not to hear, reaching for a skewer of yakitori to busy your hands. But your pulse quickened, not with embarrassment, but with the awareness of the reason behind their thinly veiled curiosity. They must have been Zenin women, perhaps married to the higher ranked men in Zenin Naobito’s circle. You felt bad for them, yet you also hated them. 

But you knew that wasn’t the case for their hatred of you. Not exactly. It wasn’t the fact that you were an outsider, a non-sorcerer working as a window at Jujutsu High, who taught mundane subjects like history and literature to the students. 

Nor was it that the students often liked you better, seeking your lessons as a respite from their harsher training. It was the reason these women whispered behind jeweled fans and exchanged glances tinged with envy: you were the much beloved wife of Nanami Kento, the stalwart, handsome, and sought-after grade one sorcerer.

From across the room, you caught sight of him. He stood among a small circle of colleagues, the sharp lines of his tailored suit a contrast to the flowing robes around him. His expression was as stoic as ever, but there was a small shift when he saw you, a softening in his gaze that no one else would notice. 

To everyone else, he was the unapproachable, severe sorcerer who never let his guard down. But you knew the way his bright eyes would close just slightly when he was tired, the low chuckle he reserved for evenings spent at home, the way his voice lowered when he told you stories of his youth.

“Good evening.” came a familiar voice that broke through your wandering thoughts. You turned to find Ieiri Shoko standing beside you, her expression one of relaxed amusement. 

She was dressed in an elegant black ensemble that perfectly complemented her laid-back demeanor, a glass of sake dangling effortlessly from her fingers. Her sharp eyes glimmered with mischief as she surveyed the room.

“Evening.” You greeted back at her, your lips sharply echoing into a smile. “Why are you alone? Where’s your darling at?”

“Oh, surrounded by those pathetic vultures.” She pointed at the table where she was talking with the Kyoto women, smiling brightly. “Ugh, I hate those freaks. I can’t believe she’s around them. They’re not even worth an ounce of her giggles.”

“Geto–san has to make good with people somehow.” You pointed out to her, humming. “Connections are just connections. But you’re her lover. It’s been some years. Breathe, Sho.”

She rolls her eyes, before smiling. “Yeah, yeah.”

“How have you been?”

“Good, as always.” Shoko retorts back, humming at you. “I just wish I had cigarettes. But she said if I tried to smoke tonight, she wouldn’t let me hit.”

You laugh at her bluntness. “I do the same to Kento too, but with his alcohol. You both have to be kept on a leash.”

 “Oh the things we do for love.” She sighed heavily before looking at the ones glaring at you both. It wasn’t hard to notice those clusters of sorcerer wives eyeing you with thinly veiled intentions. “You’re doing well against their scrutiny, I see.”

“Barely. But I do find myself enjoying it.” you admitted, a small laugh escaping despite the tension. Shoko’s company was always welcome; her nonchalance had a way of making everything seem less dire.

Shoko took a slow sip from her glass, savoring it like she savored every moment. She shifted her gaze to one of the wives, a woman with a crimson kimono embroidered so elaborately it looked more like a tapestry than a garment. The woman was whispering behind her fan, eyes darting toward you and Shoko with a practiced side glance.

“Ah, her again. I thought she wouldn’t be here after she got exposed for her affair.” Shoko said, rolling her eyes with exaggerated flair. She leaned closer, voice low but biting. “Careful, she’s liable to sprain her neck with how much she’s been glaring. I heard last time she tried something that intense, she nearly fainted from holding her breath.”

You stifled a laugh, your shoulders shaking with barely contained mirth. Shoko’s dry humor was like a breath of fresh air, slicing through the tension with an effortless charm. The woman in the crimson kimono noticed your reaction and stiffened, her cheeks blooming with indignation.

“Let them look, let them whisper. Let them be jealous of you.” Shoko said, turning her eyes back to you. Her voice shifted to something more genuine, the mocking edge softening. “They’ll keep wondering because they can’t figure it out. You’re different, and they hate not understanding something. It’s their worst fear.”

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding, the knots in your chest loosening. Shoko’s words were more than just comfort; they were a reminder that your place here wasn’t defined by others’ perceptions but by your own truth and by the fact that Nanami stood beside you, unwavering.

“Thanks, Sho. I appreciate it a lot.” you said, voice steadying.

She gave a small shrug, the kind that said don’t make it a big deal. With another sip of sake, she nodded toward the buffet. “Now, let’s hope they restock the good tempura. If not, someone’s getting cursed tonight, and it won’t be me.”

She winked, then sauntered away, leaving you with a smile and the indelible impression that you weren’t as alone as you sometimes felt. Once she moved to the corner to see about the temperature, you could feel from the corner of your eye.

You saw the clan wives exchanging glances again. Their perfectly painted lips tightened just slightly as Nanami Kento, breaking from his group, made his way toward you, every step a quiet declaration.

“Is it true? She’s the one married to him?” another ignorant one whispered, leaning into a group of women whose gazes darted in your direction.

“Yes, the one with Nanami Kento, the number two of the first grade sorcerers.” another foolish one confirmed, unable to keep the hint of envy out of her voice. 

You turned slightly, pretending not to hear as you picked up a small plate of delicacies. You did not care for what they wanted to say about you. You were more focused on your desire to taste the dishes. The laughter and clinking glasses around you felt muted under the weight of the tension gathering nearby.

The whispers turned to sharp murmurs, punctuated by gasps and scandalized looks. But perhaps that bothered them even more, because they started making more comments.

“Who does she think she is, that no name wanna be?” The foolish one whispered, loud enough for people to hear her. But perhaps she does not realize she was not being discreet. 

The ignorant one scoffs in disbelief, shaking her head. “What a snob! How can Nanami-san be married to her?”

Shoko heard enough of it and turned around almost immediately from the dishes to the ladies. They jumped out of their seats. She rolls her eyes at them. It was as though she was just as annoyed as she was bored with them. 

“Honestly, get over yourselves. You all look like desperate idiots.” she said, a lazy smirk tugging at her lips as she leaned casually against a marble pillar. Everyone was now looking at them. Aren’t you at least going to have the gall to say it to our face, lady Kawami?”

The woman in the crimson kimono, lady Kawami, known for her sharp tongue and her greedy  ambition gasped, her painted lips parting in shock. Beside her, another woman with intricately styled hair and a pinched expression scowled deeply. 

“How dare you—”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Shoko’s laughter was light and mocking, yet the glint in her eyes held no softness. She tilted her head, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at Lady Kawami’s reddening face. “You think Nanami Kento would like an ugly face and a bad attitude like yours? Ha! You wish!”

The crowd that had gathered to eavesdrop was stunned into silence, eyes flicking between the women like spectators at a duel. The foolish one’s face turned a deep shade of red, while the ignorant one sputtered, looking moments away from summoning her husband and causing an uproar. 

“You cannot talk to us like that!” she shrieked, voice pitched high with indignation. “My husband will hear of this!”

“Now, now, lady Kawami, you shouldn’t treat my guests like that.” The familiar, light-hearted voice of Gojo Satoru interrupted the escalating tension. The two women felt their eyes widen. They quickly bow before him. “It’s so disrespectful, don’t you think?”

Heads turned as he approached, dressed in an exquisite black and silver kimono decorated with the Gojo clan crest. Even in traditional wear, he managed to exude a casual, almost irreverent charm. His dark, round glasses perched on his nose added to the effect as he lowered them just slightly, revealing eyes that shimmered with barely concealed amusement.

“Ah, Gojo-sama.” Lady Kawami said, trying to mask her fluster with a demure nod, but the tension in her posture betrayed her. “I didn’t mean any disrespect towards her, but surely you can understand that—”

“Oh, I understand completely, lady Kawami.” Gojo interrupted, a playful grin spreading across his face. He pushed his glasses back up, letting them catch the light so that the rest of the room was reflected in them. “I understand that you’re boring my dear friend Shoko, and frankly, I can’t have that. Her girlfriend wouldn't be so happy, either. And of course, I love my friend’s happiness.”

The subtle ripple of suppressed laughter ran through the more observant bystanders. Lady Kawami’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes narrowing dangerously. It was rare for someone to speak to her like that and get away with it, but this was Gojo Satoru. A man whose reputation as the most powerful sorcerer in the room and quite possibly the world would mean his words carried weight that no amount of social maneuvering could deflect.

Shoko’s smirk widened as she raised her glass in mock toast to Gojo, her eyes gleaming. “Well, look who decided to save the day. Dashing, really, Gojo.”

He winked at her. “Anything to make sure tonight stays interesting.”

The ignorant one, still seething but now cautious, looked between Gojo and Shoko before settling on silence. The power dynamics had shifted too sharply, and she knew better than to push further. No one can go against Gojo Satoru and not face repercussions. No one. And it would have ended up badly for their husbands and their families if they did. 

You exhaled, tension releasing from your shoulders as the spectacle unraveled. A small, knowing smile touched your lips as Kento's eyes found yours from across the room, his expression softening just a fraction, and you knew that you weren’t alone in facing these moments. You were surrounded by friends who would always have your back, in their own unique, if slightly chaotic, ways.

The room’s atmosphere gradually loosened, tension shifting back to its usual simmering undercurrent. Gojo’s playful banter had disarmed the scene, leaving only the embarrassed scowls of lady Kawami and her cohort. Shoko took another sip of her sake, the glint of satisfaction in her eyes clear as she watched the women bristle and disperse.

“Good job not throwing that plate, masterful control.” Shoko said to you, her voice carrying a hint of approval. She nodded at the untouched delicacies in your hand. “Would’ve been a waste of good food.”

You chuckled softly, appreciating her humor. “Shouldn’t you be saying that to yourself, Sho?”

“Well, I mean, that’s true.” 

Gojo laughs. “Shoko would have done worse than that and we both know it.”

“Hm, but I would have you carry my food to my table.”

“Oh? Then people would be surprised, how anyone can force the Gojo clan leader to do anything on a whim.”

Before you could respond, a presence behind you made the small hairs on your neck stand up in recognition. You turned, and there he was—Nanami Kento, striding toward you with the kind of quiet confidence that set him apart from the rest.

He looked ever so handsome, your husband. But when you get him even more up close? It’s a different story. He looked even more like a god when he stood before you this close.  

He took in the scene, eyes flicking over the lingering crowd, Gojo’s smirk, and Shoko’s knowing look. Then his attention settled on you, warm and steady. “I see I missed the entertainment.” he said, his voice deep and even, but with a trace of curiosity.

Gojo lifted a hand in a lazy wave. “Ah, Nanami, you missed Shoko here defending your lovely lady’s honor with an admirable lack of diplomacy.”

Kento’s brows lifted slightly, his gaze darting to Shoko, who shrugged, unbothered. “They deserved it.” she said, as if that were the most obvious fact in the world.

With a quiet exhale, Kento nodded, accepting the unspoken truth that you were protected by bonds deeper than mere duty. He reached out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. The small gesture spoke volumes, his touch grounding and reassuring. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyes searching yours for any trace of discomfort.

You smiled up at him, your earlier tension melting away entirely under his gaze. “I am now.”

The corners of his mouth twitched in what might have been a smile, subdued as always but unmistakably there. The few remaining onlookers, who had hoped to catch a new drama unfolding, exchanged glances before deciding they had better places to be.

Gojo clapped his hands, shattering the delicate silence that had settled. “Well, now that we’ve cleared the air, what do you say we toast to another evening of society’s finest theatrics?” His grin was as wide as ever, his glasses reflecting the chandelier’s light like a pair of miniature suns.

Nanami shook his head, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at you, then back at Gojo. “You never change, Gojo.” he muttered, the ghost of a smile touching his lips.

“And wouldn’t it be boring if I did?” Gojo countered, raising a brow.

Shoko raised her glass, smirking at Gojo before tipping it toward you and Nanami. “Unwavering loyalty and keeping things interesting!” she said.

You lifted your plate with a grin, and Kento, never one for dramatics, simply inclined his head. But the unspoken promise in his gaze, the silent support he offered, said more than any toast or witty comment ever could. In a hall filled with power, it was that quiet moment, surrounded by friends and the one who held your heart, that resonated most.

Soon enough, Shoko returned to her girlfriend with her plate stacked with food on one hand and the other holding a glass of wine. Her girlfriend, Geto Suguru’s younger sister, was waiting for her at one of the tables by the back.

Of course, Gojo Satoru returned to moving about and greeting everyone, but he seemed to have been halted by lord Kawami, probably trying to get things straight and settled. No one likes losing his favor after all. It was better that everything was smoothed out with him.

The incident however did not stop the women from continuing to look at your husband wantingly. One of the clan leader’s wives, her jeweled fan hiding half her face, whispered something to the woman beside her. They glanced over, eyes narrowing as if they could decipher what spell had ensnared someone like Nanami Kento.

“They’re watching again.” you murmured, feeling a twinge of jealousy and self-consciousness.

You immediately caught the glance of a woman adorned with a striking emerald necklace that glittered every time she turned. Her expression was polished and unreadable, but the pointed way she looked at you sent an old, familiar discomfort crawling up your spine.

Kento’s presence next to you was a calm in the storm, an anchor against the waves of whispers and stares. He tilted his head slightly, just enough that the room’s golden glow cast warm highlights across his sharp features. His eyes, serious and unwavering, met yours.

“I don’t like the way they’re looking at you.” You whisper to him.

“Let them, honey.” he said, his deep voice rich with certainty. “That’s all they can do.”

He took your hand, calloused but gentle, and squeezed it just enough to send a rush of comfort through you. His thumb traced the side of your hand in a subtle, soothing gesture. The cool metal of his ring finger brushes against your skin with intent. 

“They should know that I am exactly where I choose to be. I’m a married man, after all.”

A silence swept over the nearby crowd, as if Nanami Kento’s words, though spoken softly, carried through the hall like a sudden change in the wind. The clan leaders’ wives, women who could command a room with a flick of their eyes or a whisper laced with intent, shifted uncomfortably. For all their power, their meticulously curated reputations, and the alliances they upheld like prized heirlooms, they had never been the center of such unwavering devotion.

Akari from administration glanced over and offered a subtle nod of approval, a small smile playing on her lips as she resumed her conversation. Mei Mei, sharp-eyed and ever perceptive, caught the moment as well. She raised her glass, her smirk deepening as though to say, well played.

The subtle tension that once swirled around the room, woven through glances and whispers, began to dissipate. Some turned their attention back to their conversations, laughter resuming, but not without the occasional glance in your direction, this time tinged more with begrudging respect than judgment.

“Kento, baby.” you said softly, a small smile breaking through as your heart settled back into its natural rhythm. The weight of self-consciousness fell away, replaced by a warm sense of belonging that his presence always seemed to ignite.

“Hmm?” he replied, his gaze still watching you with an intensity that was rare for him, except when you were alone.

“Thank you, baby.” you whispered, squeezing his hand back.

His eyes softened, the smallest, barely-there curve of his lips showing just the hint of a smile meant only for you. “There’s nothing to thank me for, honey.” he replied, tilting his head as if to read your thoughts. “It’s simply the truth.”

══════════════════

IT HAPPENED AS QUICKLY AS ONE COULD BLINK. But you suppose you can’t help it. Your desire for pleasure was fast when it came to Nanami Kento. Much more so when you’re jealous. BUt you knew your husband liked that. More than he likes to admit to you.

You felt a delicious rush of power as you yanked him closer by his tie, leading him out of the crowded hall. Away from the watchful eyes and mingling strangers, it was just the two of you in the quiet, dim hallway, with only your quickened breaths filling the silence.

The door closed behind you, and before you could say another word, his hands were on you, strong and possessive, pressing you back against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall. His fingers traced over your hips and along your waist, leaving a tingling heat in their wake.

It was as if he was memorizing every inch of you all over again. You looked up at him, catching his gaze; his eyes were heavy with desire, and the way he looked at you made your knees feel weak. He was entirely yours in that moment, and you were entirely his.

Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt, his heartbeat echoing your own. His mouth was on yours again, the kiss deep and ravenous, filling the space with the sounds of quickened breath and desperate touches. The world beyond the bathroom faded, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other.

When he pulled back to look at you, you could barely catch your breath. His hand found the curve of your neck, fingers tracing gently along your jawline, and your own hands gripped his shoulders, grounding you as your pulse raced.

“You’re so good….” you managed to whisper breathlessly, your voice trembling as you tried to form words. "Kento….." you murmured, the words spilling out between gasps, each syllable almost a sigh as you clung to him. 

The intensity of his gaze made you shiver, your own desire reflected in his eyes. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and you felt a thrill ripple through you as he whispered your name. His breath felt hot, so tenderly warm against your skin. And even more so when he said your name in that breathy way. That made you feel even more excitement.

For a moment, you both paused, catching your breath as the heat of the moment washed over you. His fingers brushed along your cheek, his thumb tracing the corner of your mouth, as though savoring this quiet, charged moment before pulling you back in with the same raw, electric passion.

And in that hidden space, the two of you lost yourselves, caught in the perfect, unbreakable intimacy that felt like a world away from the bustling party. If you both had your way, both of you would have been locked away from the world. All you needed was each other.

His hands explored with a possessive tenderness, each touch leaving trails of fire across your skin. You let out a shaky breath, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he pressed his lips along your jaw, down to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You shivered, feeling him smile against your skin, clearly pleased at the effect he was having on you.

You pulled him even closer, fingers moving from his shirt to his tie, loosening it slightly, just enough to slide it off his neck. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his eyes fixed on you with a focused intensity that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

"Can’t believe you dragged me out here, honey." he murmured, his voice low and teasing, his words sending a thrill through you. "But I’d follow you anywhere. I’ll make love to you anywhere you want me to."

His words made your heart race, and you felt the butterflies from earlier stirring again as he leaned in, his mouth meeting yours with a new urgency. It was as if all the tension from the night poured into that kiss, building into something raw and unstoppable.

As he pulled you closer, his fingers gently brushed your hair back from your face, and you caught his gaze, breathless. You couldn’t help the small, breathless laugh that escaped as you looked at him, both of you a little dizzy, a little wild.

“This is dangerous, you know, baby.” you whispered, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you tightened your hold on him. But he only raised an eyebrow, his own grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Good.” he replied, his voice a low murmur. "Wouldn’t have it any other way."

Soon enough, you were under his thumb. His movements grew rougher, each thrust deep and unrelenting, sending a surge of sensation through you that bordered on overwhelming. Every press of his body against yours was a heady mixture of strength and passion. 

And it was all you could do to cling to him, fingers digging into his shoulders as the intensity built. His pace quickened, and you felt your back arch instinctively, unable to control the way your body responded to him.

Your breaths came in sharp, shallow gasps, each one catching in your throat as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, his touch both possessive and tender. Your senses blurred; the world narrowed down to the feel of him, the heat between you, the way he whispered your name against your skin in a voice that was both rough and reverent.

Every movement, every thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, each one pushing you further until you were lost in the sheer intensity of it all. You gripped him tightly, almost desperately, as though grounding yourself against the delicious onslaught. 

His name left your lips in broken gasps, and as you met his gaze, the shared passion and vulnerability in his eyes were enough to undo you completely. Everything about your husband makes you feel alive. Especially at this moment. He was good at making you cry for life.

In that moment, you felt yourself surrender, giving in fully to the dizzying rush, to him, and to the warmth and bliss that consumed you both. You shifted slightly beneath him, the heat of your body still trapped in the shared intimacy of the moment. The words escaped you before you could stop them, your jealousy bubbling to the surface. 

"I saw the way they were looking at you tonight, baby." you whispered, your voice a blend of frustration and desire, your fingers gripping his shoulders tightly. "All those women... They were ogling you, making eyes at you, and I couldn’t—"

His breath hitched at the raw honesty in your voice. His eyes darkened, a flicker of something primal flashing across his face. Without breaking his rhythm, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he growled, "Don’t you dare think about them. You're the only one I want. I only want my wife. My little precious wife."

His words were a balm, but the way his body moved, the deep, relentless thrusts, were what truly silenced your insecurities. The force of each movement was almost punishing, his hips driving into you harder, making your head spin with pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, steadying you as he picked up speed, his breath ragged against your skin.

"You think I want them?" he asked, his voice a dark, velvety rasp. "No. It's you, only you. Always been you." His words came out in desperate gasps, the intensity of his thrusts growing, pushing you both to the edge. "You’re mine. No one else matters."

You moaned, feeling a thrill surge through your chest, his raw claim igniting something deeper within you. His pace never faltered, and as he rams into you harder.

Each movement seems to strip away the last remnants of your doubts. Your body responded, the tension in you winding tighter, tighter, until you were sure you'd break. You could barely speak, your voice hitching as you met his powerful thrusts with a soft whimper, your body rocking with the force of him.

"I’m jealous, baby. I always am." you admitted, your hands tracing down his chest, grasping at him desperately, the words slipping between gasps. "But you're mine too. Only mine."

"Always have been, honey. Only yours." he replied, his hands pressing you harder into the cold tile as he moved faster, pushing you further toward the edge with each heated thrust. 

His voice was a low growl, his rhythm unrelenting, and you could feel him losing himself as much as you were, both of you consumed by the need, the overwhelming desire to claim and be claimed.

The moment his lips crashed into yours, everything else seemed to melt away. The overwhelming intensity of the kiss mirrored the urgency of his movements, his body pressing deeper into yours, each thrust sending waves of heat through you. The kiss was possessive, his tongue claiming yours with the same hunger that burned between you both.

As he pushed deeper, his rhythm becoming relentless, you felt a broken cry escape from you, a mixture of pleasure and raw emotion that you couldn’t hold back. His eyes, dark with desire, caught yours, and for a moment, you saw something deeper than just lust—something primal and protective, something that made your heart race in a way you couldn’t explain.

"You’re so fucking beautiful, honey." he whispered against your lips, his voice rough with the same need he’d been building in both of you. “My wife is so fucking beautiful.” 

His hands moved to your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as he thrust deeper, pushing you to the brink, your cries turning into soft whimpers as your body was caught in the storm of sensation. It felt so good, it always has been.

The deeper he is, the deeper the pleasure fills you. The more you cry out and moan. The more he tries to defy the possibilities, thrusting deeper to fill you more and more.

The tears that pricked the corners of your eyes weren't from pain—no, it was something more complex, something that left you breathless. It was the weight of the connection, the force of his touch, and the emotional release that you hadn’t expected.

All combined into something that made your chest tighten with overwhelming feeling. You cried because he was inside you in every way, not just physically but emotionally, each thrust deeper, each kiss harder.

Kento pulled away slightly, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, his breath hot against your face. His eyes softened for a moment, but the hunger in them never dulled. 

"You’re mine, only mine, wife." he breathed, his voice low but full of meaning, before kissing you again, harder this time, as though proving to you what he’d just spoken.

The kiss deepened as he pulled you even closer, his body pressing against yours with a fervor that made your entire being hum with raw need. You could feel every inch of him, every movement of his muscles, and it was as if the world had disappeared entirely, leaving just the two of you tangled in this electric, consuming moment.

His thrusts became more forceful, each one driving deeper, pushing you to the edge of something wild and uncontrollable. Your nails dug into his back, clinging to him for support as his mouth moved from yours, trailing down your neck, biting and sucking as he marked you, claiming you completely.

"Don't hold back, honey." he murmured against your skin, his breath ragged. "Let go for me. I need you to feel this... all of it."

You couldn't hold back, not anymore. Not even if anyone was to hear outside. You didn’t feel bad about being this loud because it was your pleasure. About the pleasure he was giving you. He was making you feel good and you wanted him to know it. 

“Good baby, my good little wife. Take me. Take me whole.”

His words hit something deep inside, and you cried out, your voice a broken whisper as your body surrendered fully to him, to the pleasure, to the overwhelming emotions that swirled inside you. His name escaped your lips in a desperate, breathless moan, and the sound seemed to spur him on, his pace quickening as he met you with relentless urgency.

Each thrust pushed you further into a frenzy of sensation, and the pleasure that had once been distant now consumed you completely. The tears that had been building in your eyes spilled over, not from pain, but from the intensity, from the way his body moved with yours in perfect rhythm, from the way he made you feel so utterly seen, so completely his.

Kento’s hand moved to your face, his thumb gently swiping at the tears on your cheek, a tender touch amidst the feverish passion. His eyes softened for just a moment, but then they hardened with desire as he kissed you again, his tongue tasting your lips, your moans swallowed by the deep kiss.

"You're everything to me, honey." he growled, his voice barely audible between breaths. "And I’ll make sure you never forget that."

His words, the way his body pressed into yours, the way his hands held you so firmly. It all built up to something so deep, so visceral that you couldn’t tell where your body ended and his began. Everything inside you snapped, the waves of pleasure crashing over you in a rush, leaving you breathless and shaking in his arms. 

Your cries were mingled with his own as he lost himself in the moment, the sound of skin against skin filling the small space as you both gave in to the release, the powerful culmination of everything that had been building between you.

As the waves of pleasure slowly subsided, leaving both of you breathless and spent, the quiet hum of the room returned, only now it felt like a distant memory compared to the electric tension between you. You both lingered in the aftermath, bodies still pressed together, hearts racing in sync. 

Your breath was ragged, your fingers tracing the sweat-slick skin of his back, grounding yourself in the sensation of him still so close. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of your clothes and the echo of your breaths.

But just as you began to collect yourself, a sound broke the stillness—a soft thud of footsteps, followed by the faint murmur of voices. Your heart skipped a beat as the realization hit. Your boldness had gotten inflated by sanity. 

You both hadn’t noticed the soft creak of the door, hadn’t heard the hushed conversations approaching. And then, before either of you could react, the door was pushed open, revealing the clan wives, standing in the doorway, eyes wide with shock, mouths agape.

Kento’s gaze flickered to the doorway, but when he saw the surprised looks on their faces, he didn’t flinch, didn’t move away. He stayed right where he was, his hands still possessively on you, his lips curled into a confident, unbothered smirk. He looks at you, mesmerized by you. By his want for you. Nothing else mattered. Decency, rules, proportionality — they’re done when he makes love to you.

Yet when you looked at him. Nothing else mattered. You too also didn’t care now. A sense of defiance rose within you, the fire from before still burning strong. Without a second thought, you pulled Kento closer, your hands grasping his face as you tilted your head up to meet his lips. The kiss was fierce and unapologetic, claiming him fully in front of everyone who dared to look.

You pulled away slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes, your voice low but steady, a possessive edge coloring your words. "You're only mine, hm? Forever, baby." you whispered, your fingers gently tracing his jawline as you met his smirk.

His gaze softened for a moment, his lips curling into a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. "Always, honey." he replied, his voice a low rumble that held all the certainty in the world. “Forever.”

The clan wives stood frozen once again, caught between disbelief and curiosity, but neither of you acknowledged them again. You didn’t need to. Kento's words, and the way he held you, told them everything they needed to know.

You were his, and he was yours.

Forever.

[portraitsofguilt]

𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐗 — abby anderson, ellie williams, dina woodward

— “leaving myself for other girls to play with.”

content warning/s — female reader, porn without plot, foursome, mean dom! ellie, service top! dina, jealous! abby, cunnilingus, fingering, strap-on use, belly bulge, dressing up, implied breeding kink, face sitting, squirting

a/n — i am not going to be sorry about this, this is just a short fun lil thing for people to enjoy, this is brain rots bcuz of finals and for the anon who screamed at me in my inbox, hope you like it lovely

"WE'RE ALL LOOKING AT A DIFFERENT PICUTRE."

you were like a dool, dressed beautifully in a pretty dress with pretty knee socks but no panties as ellie liked- that’s why she had the honor to play with you first, and also the fact that she rounded you up for this fun little playdate. she was eager to toy with you and destroy your cunt. Still, she wasn’t going to rip the pretty clothes, she will want to see you in them again. so she only lifts your skirt, exposing your glistening folds for her and for the others to see how wet you are.

ellie fucking you deep while you sit on her lap, so deep your belly has a little bulge every time she bottoms out on you with her strap, stuffing you to the brim. she kisses the skin at the corner of your eyes when you whine “it’s too deep”. you wanted to feel good and wanted to make her feel good, right? she likes to see you cry, tearing up, raw lips trembling from being fucked too much, too hard. although she wouldn’t admit it out loud, she has the fantasy of coming inside you, imagining it’s not only your cum that she fucks into you but hers too until it leaks out. it would be an honor to bear her child, yeah?

abby is fed up with ellie tiring you so much, shoving her a few times to get her off your crying form. she caresses your cheek to wipe the tears falling from your lashes, saying sorry for ellie being so mean before one of her thumbs pushes past your lips to open wide, the other hand opening up her folds as she pushes you back, climbing on top of you and lining her pussy up with your mouth. drool leaks from the corner of your lips, trickling down the sides of your face while she stuffs her puffy clit in your mouth, praising your tongue. your drool mixing with her cum when it leaks into your mouth, she is patting your cheek when you swallow all that she gave you.

dina whose tits you have been massaging, rubbing her cunt occasionally while eating abby out. dina is not fond of getting into the fight between the other two, but will smooth the battle between the two to eat you while you eat abby out for a second time or when ellie gets over her pride and sits on your face. she spanks you, spreading your slick all over and between your quivering pussy lips before latching her mouth on your clit. she alternates between small licks and kisses, caressing your thighs before sucking harshly on your bundle of nerves. you are sweet, a bit salty from the tears that have dropped down to your cunt when ellie was having her way with you, your thighs closing around dina’s face when you squirt on her face.

you are like a toy, quite literally the doll for them to play around with. in pretty clothes, pretty eyes, beautiful hair, and the body perfect for them to do what they please with it. they know it and you believe it, there won’t ever be who can take care of you like the three of them can, it’s just not possible.

[bandsandwristbands]

Gaara/Gaalee headcannons? 👉👈 (only if you want to)

*cracking my knuckles* DO I WANT TO?? BOY DO I! I am so glad you asked!! I have way too many I think lol

I won't put them in any particular order but I'll separate sfw and nsfw lol

Sfw hcs

Gaara is uncannily good at impressions- like so accurate it's off putting to see on his face. (I imagine this comes from him analysing the fuck out of Human Behavior™ in order to mask his crazy lol) His party trick is his Naruto impression. All of konoha 12 have seen it and cried laughing and it becomes an inside joke for ppl to whisper "dattebayo" in the most dead pan voice possible to make each other laugh at inappropriate times.

Gaara has a bunch of stuffed animals. Mostly gifts from his siblings and Lee as they're the only ones who've seen his bed just- fuckin buried in plushies- "I don't use it to sleep anyways." <-Gaara justifying the plush pile.

I've covered this pretty extensively (here) and lots of others have this one too but Gaara w/ piercings (I tend to include belly ring and tongue piercing a long with his ears)

Also sharp nails and canines BUT I also think Gaara's teeth are a little crooked, probably tearing stuff open with his teeth growing up and when transforming into his tailed beast form his teeth grow a bit too big for his mouth and so push around to make room. Also I think it'd be very cute ~

Especially when Lee and Gaara first get together- Gaara being starved for touch and affection will not realize he's getting overwhelmed by it until he's like "Actually I need to leave right now" and has to decompress by himself for awhile.

Alternatively, after nightmares or panic attacks- he likes Lee to lay on him like a heavy weighted blanket. He feels safe that way.

They both experience cute aggression for each other. When pining, Lee would just burst into random exercises looking *pissed* -"What's wrong with Lee?" -"He saw Gaara sneeze." -Gaara on the other hand will intentionally shoulder check Lee (not very affective, Lee doesn't clock it as aggressive) or use his sand to subtly tickle, trip, poke at and generally bother him (this does get a bit of a rise out of Lee which Gaara also thinks is cute)

Once together they will add new ways to express the cute aggression including but not limited to: Random biting, dipping the other dramatically, sneak attack bear hugs, not so gentle punches/slaps.

Gaara really likes that Lee isn't afraid to get angry at him or push back against the things he says. He does get genuinely pissed about it sometimes- they're both stubborn- but it's really comforting for him to be able to raise his voice or get visibly upset and not be met with fear.

Lee has crazyyyyy rejection sensitivity (adhd hc) He is bracing for it at all times. He masks it really well by kicking up the enthusiasm but at night he is Ruminating™ and it Sucks™

This will be really obvious in fic from me but I think Gaara's sand acts in reflection of his subconscious feelings and motives when he's not actively meaning to manipulate it. (I think the intent to protect from his mom is still there but I just think it's too weird for it to literally be her consciousness lol) I like treating it like a Disney princess companion- expressive, a little whimsical, and an extension of Gaara himself.

Falling asleep is extremely unsettling for Gaara- he's fine once he's asleep but the act of getting there activates his fight or flight often. Easier with Lee cuddles.

They're toxically obsessed with each other. So enamoured that if they were anyone else they would be creeped tf out~ but for them it's romantic ~

On that note- Gaara expresses his love by saying really gorey shit like "I want to wear your skin" or "I want you to rip my chest open and feel how my heart beats just for you" type shit- serial killer stuff that Lee cries and swoons over! Lee: "He's so romantic!!😭" Neji: "He just said he wants to gnaw on your bones????" Lee: "I know 🥹💕💕 he even loves my bones!!"

They are also always in each others lap or tangling their feet together, they are the infinite honey moon couple.

Oh, licking. Gaara gives little 'mlem' licks instead of kisses often. On Lee's cheek or lips or the back of his hand. He kisses too, the mlem is just instinctual.

Gaara licks the blood off of small cuts that Lee gets. Lee thinks it's extremely cute and eventually picks up the habit if Gaare ever gets a little knick as well. (Sakura rips into them about it but that won't stop them.)

Gaara spent an entire week of overnights studying massage therapy and ways to help relieve Lee's muscle aches and cramps, makes it a point to rub Lee down once a week at least.

He will not admit to Lee that it makes his wrists hurt.

Lee has chronic pain btw.

They both love spicy.

Gaara likes sweets but won't admit it.

Lee learns Sunan endearments and uses them on Gaara constantly and it makes Gaara turn to putty every time.

Nsfw ones !

They both love marking each other up and being marked- they're both extremely possessive and also very very into the idea of belonging to the other- neither of them ever thought anyone would want them for something beyond their abilities as weapons of war- Gaara especially likes feeling desired in a way that feels unmistakably human.

(Piggy backing off that last one, Gaara has Rock Lee [ロック・リー] tattooed on his inner lower lip before their even married because he is a little bit unhinged like that- he is self aware enough to keep it a secret for awhile but obviously Lee discovers it eventually- since I am in the Gaara Oral Fixation Fan Club- and after freaking out about "omg gaara that is permanent there's no way you actually want my name branded on you" Gaara's like that is definitely what the intention is- they both get horny about it)

Frottoge~ they hump each other like animals lol

Gaara is a tease (can you tell I want him to have more little shit tendencies) both cuz Lee's shock every time is amusing and also because Lee gets easily frustrated and will jump him later.

Fighting is foreplay. Gaara likes being crushed and choked- Lee likes to be clawed and bitten like a scratching post

Gaara is kinda gross 😏 (still having some jinchuriki senses) He gets easily worked up about Lee's bodily fluids- loves his sweat (will randomly lick him after workouts), demands Lee spit in his mouth, kind of a cumslut, goes feral over the smell and taste of Lee's blood.

They both love giving head. Gaara has a gag reflex- likes Lee activating it.

Gaara tends to bottom more because he likes the full feeling, like Lee is all around him and making him disappear, (and cockwarming because he doesn't like the empty feeling after, he enjoys the closeness on a visceral level)

Lee loves trying to overwhelm Gaara (in a good way) with Good Feelings and that means pleasure too, he's an attentive learner and does not let Gaara get away with just one nut- he's trying to make up for lost time.

And also he gets a power rush about getting to be the only one who gets to see Gaara in that context, Lee doesn't get trusted to be in charge of... Anything really. So having Gaara trust him with his body and his mind really gets to his uwus and his dick.

Lee has a small crisis when they start fooling around, worried about being disrespectful, - "Gaara I think I'm some sort of pervert!" -"I'm not exactly complaining about that 👁️👁️" - it takes a minute for him to let go of the idea that every sexual encounter has to be really romantic and loving- plus, similar to Lee getting angry with him- Gaara likes that Lee is a little disrespectful sometimes- it does take some coaxing for Lee to stop asking "are you sure I'm not being to mean??"

Lee has also learned dirty Sunan endearments and lovessss watching Gaara turn red in the face about it.

Gaara has a hard time getting out of his head so Lee takes it as a personal challenge to fuck Gaara mindless- it becomes a necessity after long swaths of stressful meetings and legislation, he knows he's succeeded when Gaara forgets Common and starts rambling in Sunan 👌

When Gaara does top, it's usually because he's feeling big emotions about Lee, sometimes premature grief that one day one of them will die, other times extreme gratitude that Lee even exists, he's still aggressive about it and honestly a little sloppy but Lee loves it, gets really flustered and bashful about all the affection. Growling, drooling top + giggly bottom.

Lee loves to be praised.

Gaara likes the combination of degradation and praise, especially if its condescending.

Oh when they first start fooling around or when Gaara's feeling Very Good his sand acts up, popping the cork, scrambling around, crawling up around Lee to hold him closer. He's worried it'll freak Lee out at first but it processes to Lee as positive feedback.

They find themselves fucking semi publicly way more frequently than they ever intend to- they just get caught up in each other very easily.

Alright alright I'll cut myself off here, I've been writing these up for over an hour and I need to shower lol

I hope my offering is acceptable! Thank you for giving me an excuse to ramble! Xoxoxoxo

[npookie0]

Reader x Ronin, alternate ‘good’ ending where instead of kissing or stabbing Ronin the reader decides to stab themself as a form of dedication to Ronin? He said he wanted a body, and they were more than willing for him to get their heart (literally)

I fear this may be too dark, so please ignore it if you don’t feel comfortable with it ❤️ I understand themes like this can be uncomfortable to write !!

Submitting Your Aorta to The Devil.

☪︎ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･❂

Trigger Warnings

Gore

Blood

Su1c1d3

Spoilers for Ronin ending

Obsession

Ronin™

6 tws? Hah, that's a devilish number...

☪︎ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･❂

This was the day.

The day on which you would meet your beloved Devil. Oh that man who drove you absolutely crazy. The man who made a fool out of you with words alone.

Now here you are, in front of the purgatory, dressed up for that special occasion in your favourite clothes. You put your hand to your heart, the organ was beating so loud, the sound was ringing in your ears.

You took a deep breath to calm you excitement before you stepped into the damned alley. There was gore splattered all over the walls, grafity hidden behind blood and guts, body parts laying on the ground like regular trash. Most people would throw up at such sight, but you my love are far from being like most people, your morality is gone at least most of it.

No normal person would stay in that server and dance with the devil just to end up wrapped around his fingers.

Ronin took his sweet time shaping you into whatever your current form was. He was your muse, but you were his canvas. The canvas he had complete control over...

You didn't have to wait long for him to arrive. You heard the sound of heavy steps from behind and a quiet chuckle, chuckle you know oh so well.

"So we meet!" He said, his voice excited and amused. You turned around and scoffed at his shit-eating grin.

"Always the devil Ronin Beaufort."

"Aren't you a pleasure?" He chuckled at your answer and walked up to you dangerously close. "Gotta say, seein' you in person makes me feel some type of way. An' I wonder how you feel about, well..." He paused and pinned you to the wall.

Mouth close to your ear, hot breath against the sensitive skin of your neck. Oh how beautiful your devilish lover is. You felt the blush creep onto your cheeks, your breath hitching in your throat.

"Do you like me now, darlin'?" His voice dark, full of mystery and fascination, The closure makes the butterflies in your stomach fight to rip it open and fly out of your body in a bloody massacre.

"I do." You replied without any hesitation. Why lie? The devil knows you too well anyway.

"Oh, to speak the truth, the truth, anything but the truth!" Ronin's eyes are full of confidence, and something else, something way darker that is buried deeper, deep enough so unwanted eyes won't see. "Write me a love note, darlin'?" He asked in mocking amusement.

"I know your name , I could end you." Lie. Of course you wouldn't end him. Your lungs are filled with him, your brain can think only of him. You could never call the police on him.

"Hah! Coulda, woulda, shoulda." He started, looking deep into you eyes. "You could end me, you should end me, but would'ja end me?" His whispers filled your ears, caused you to shiver under his gaze.

"..." You didn't answer, didn't have to. It was the devil's speech after all.

"I don't think so! Where are the boys in blue? Why is it jus' us in my favourite gruesome alley? Why is that even after knowing who I am, you still wanna see me?" He paused, moved his mouth closer to your ear. "Some might say you're obsessed, even."

You took a deep calming breath. You couldn't just play his way now, could you?

"Why did you invite me to the server?" You asked in the most collected voice you could get out of your vocal cords.

"I did it for you. You were starving, so i gave you insatiability. You wanted inspiration, so i became your muse. You wanted love, darlin', so I gave you love. Isn't it everything you ever wanted?" The sound of his voice made your whole body boil. You wanted to do so many things right now. But you needed to listen to him, his words were like some sacred speech that was the most important moment in your entire life.

"I think you always knew. C'mon, why didn't you leave? Call the cops? There were so many... opportunities." Another pause. "If I may... I think you're a little too in love." He sounded like he had the greatest time of his life, just fucking with your head like he always did.

He gave you a new form, a new way of life. Ronin made you feel alive again. Oh but how could you thank him for that? What would satisfy the Devil?

"I told you baby. I'm your little wish fulfilment. I'm what you dream of. Isn't this a story for the ages?" He smirked. "C'mon! Tell me what you want. Do you hate me? Do you love me? Are you gonna kill me? I've got a knife right here. Or are you kissing me, darling? How much do you feel?" These words were what you needed.

Ronin has told you so many times about taking your aorta. He used his threat of slicing your throat open as love confessions. He wanted a body. So why don't you give him what he wants?

You smiled sweetly, innocently even.

You slowly moved you body closer to his, brushing you lips against his. But before Ronin could kiss you back, you snatched the knife away from him and without any second thought you stuck the knife deep into your chest, but far from the heart to avoid the most important muscle.

Ronin backed away in surprise, watching with wide opened eyes as blood splattered around your chest, turning your clothes dark red. He held you by firmly by your waist, shock in his eyes.

"What the hell Y/N?" He asked, voice shaken.

"You wanted a body Ronin, so I am offering my own as a proof of how crazy I am for you. Claim my aorta, steal it while I am still conscious." You had to take deep breaths, mixed with coughs while you spoke.

Ronin's expression was a mix of shock, love, fascination and a small amount of despair.

He chuckled darkly and kissed you hungrily, after all it was the last kiss you will ever share.

"Your wish is my command, darlin'. I will claim your aorta, steal it beating and hot." He whispered against your lips and you could feel him cutting you deeper with the knife, making it easier for him to take what was being gifted to him as a form of sacrifice for his love,

As your mind was somewhere between reality and death you could feel Ronin's skilled hands move inside of your chest, the sound of breaking bone and tore flesh was like the finest song for your sick romance. Ronin's hands were stained with your blood, it looked like every piece of your body wanted to be connected to Ronin to leave a stain on him forever.

Before you took your final breath and Ronin took what he wanted from the depths of your chest, he placed a kiss to your forehead and whispered against your hair.

"Thank you for this wonderful gift, my twisted fallen angel." And with that your heart was kept safe between the devil's fingers, where it was from the very beginning and your lifeless body was gently laid down in the centre of the purgatory.

Oh, what a beautiful love declaration it was.

[lizzychanstuffss]

Remembrance: Love and Deepspace AU 4 (Rewritten)

Au premise: So, what if mc actually remembered everytime she's reincarnated, and what if she regrets the choices she's made in every single reincarnation and is finally using this timeline to try and fix it once she realizes this might be her only chance. But she is entirely unsure if the boys remember their past lives with her, so she must navigate all these feelings along with judging if they remember too. AN: So this is a rewrite of my orginal Sylus fic due to me now having access to his myth and being able to more properly reference details. Also now I am uploading these are their own fics to AO3. So if you prefer to read them there here you go [Link] Also I might write one of these for Caleb at some point but it will be a bit due to me needing details from his myths.

Sylus x mc | Sylus x Y/N | Angst | Alternate Universe| Route: Sylus | Other Routes

The bait was set, you had drunk from the black glass and let it be known you had information about the aether core. Of course that wasn't the entire truth but the general masses didn't need to know that.

Turning around on the stool as you looked out to the crowd, a black dress wrapped around your figure as you slowly stood. You hoped this would lead you to whoever killed your grandma and Caleb. They had to be here, or at the very least someone who had a lead had to be here and all you had to do was wait for the right moment.

As you walked through the crowd mindlessly your thoughts wondered on everything you had experienced. There was a tightness in your chest as your memories soon clouded with the past you shared a man and his white hair and pricing red eyes. A sigh left your lips before you were brought back to the present by a hand grabbing your arm and you looked to see who it was.

Just a random man, but his face screamed trouble so before he could do anything you disarmed him with a small scoff before continuing through the crowd without too much care for yourself. Before something partially blinded you with a spotlight, out of reflex covering your face before realizing it was some kind of eye. As fast as it observed you it moved away.

'That can't be good' was all you could think of before you were surrounded by a crowd of people. Without warning they began to attack you and so you started to defend yourself before feeling the sting of something being injected into you and then your vision starting to get hazy. As someone appeared beside you showing off the syringe that contained the neurotoxin now running through your system before everything went dark.

You woke up barely able to process what was happening but you could gather that you were in the backseat of a car, and someone was driving you somewhere. The drug still in effect in your system made you to tired to be able to stay away much longer then a few minutes before it went dark again.

You were awoken this time by someone dragging you out to a graveyard. Trying your best to sit up you looked up at the man your vision still hazy from the drugs as his words and form slowly became more clear.

"core where is it?" Was all you managed to catch from his questioning. Giving him a confused look but he seemed to yell a question at you that you couldn't catch.

Before you knew it he was brandishing a pocket knife in front of you causing you to move back in reflex before he grabbed the strap of your dress and pulled you close the knife under your chin. The edge slightly digging into your skin as he asked again this time more clear.

"The aethercore, where is it?!" He questioned. prompting you to roll your eyes in response.

"You know there are better way to ask me that then drugging me and threats" You laughed weakly. He then dropped you as you looked up at him you noticed what you through were tendrils of black and red mist. Raising a brow confused by this as the man was quickly surrounded by someone's evol although you had no idea from where or who exactly.

Then from behind two men met you on either side wearing masks. They went over to the man's duffle bag and started to rumage through it as your kidnapper was then taken out by the mist. Although the two matching men seemed unbothered by the display.

"He didn't really have much in here" One of them spoke, before turning to the catherdial prompting you to look over as a figure somewhat blurred from the drugs jumped off and landed nearby and then began to walk over to you?

Slowly the figure came into form and the words were leaving you before you could thinking clearly.

"Sylus why are you here?" The whole interaction seemed like a dream to you. Although that question prompted him to freeze only a moment almost as if he wasn't sure of what he just heard before leaning down and then speaking.

"What do you think I'm doing here?" His tone has a strange intimidating quality to it, one you hadn't heard in years. You weren't scared but you were confused as things mixed together. Why exactly would he be here I mean obviously you were here to get information and he was here...?

"I don't know....taking a walk, although I kinda expected you to fly" Those words seemed to shock him, his expression mixed with many emotions although you weren't entirely sure why. Trying to reach out for him you were quickly stopped by your own body letting out a slightly frustrated sigh. Before you knew it though he was taking you into his arms like he hadn't been able to hug you in years. You were confused but enjoyed how warm he was as you melted into the embrace.

"I'm tired let's go home" Was all you could think about as you began to slowly drift back into sleep unable to process much else.

As you woke up it was certainly a confusing scene. You were dressed in the dress shirt of someone that wasn't you and there was red sheets covering you. Looking around slowly you took in the room around you before leading on the sleeping man beside you.

It's him, you're in his bed

Was the thought that flowed through your mind as you slowly moved to sit up to look at him almost in disbealif. You tried to remember the events of last night but most of it was hazy except for a few things.

He knows you remember

The words crashed through your mind as your heart rate started to rise. As you moved away from him as quickly as possible rushing to get out of the sheets as you held your chest. The commotion of course caused Sylus to wake up. He looked over at you obviously concerned, he rushed over to you before stopping in front of you as you put your hands out of in front of you.

"W-what happened last night?" There was a fear in your voice, but not of him. Of his reaction and yet he stepped back giving you space before speaking slowly trying to calm you down before your panic attack got any worse.

"First you need to breath, then we can talk." The words not entirely coming through to you but enough you could understand what he was asking. Slowly you took in a shakey breath, calming down enough to speak.

"Are you okay?" He asked this time now slowly approaching you again but not touching you.

"Not really but what happened last night..." You couldn't meet his gaze as you crossed your arms.

"First, what do you remember?" He asked trying to gauge what he needed to fill you in on.

"Not much, I got drugged at the Nest and then there was a graveyard, you were there....and that's it" Squeezing your arms into yourself as you spoke and you could tell he was starting to realize as well.

"I told you didn't I?" You finally bit the bullet to his surprise. "That I remember our past life together, that's the only reason I could think as to why I would wake up in your bed and in your clothes" You slowly met his gaze.

"Yes" He calmly answered, his expression was solem to say the last and yet the one emotion you thought he would have never appeared.

"Why don't you hate me? I'm the reason you're even here!" The words were spoken with frustrated sadness.

"And I made you kill me, so we're even" Was all he said, you're the one who was shocked before you felt tears starting to fall. And without another word, you feel his embrace and hand rubbing your back gently comforting you. He picked you up before bringing you back to bed stilling holding you as he let you cry out all the tears you needed.

"I'm sorry for making you do that" He said, slowly you looked up at him.

Sniffling as you spoke "And I cursed you to only die by my hand, so we're even" A slightly cheeky smile crossed your lips as he couldn't help but laugh at your words.

[staytinyweeniebeanie]

ATEEZ! Gotta catch 'em all!

Content: fluff, Pokemon AU

Warning(s): some explicit language, the real warning is that my nerd is showing 🤓

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: the Ateez members and their partner pokemon (plus a bonus partner!) with short blurbs detailing why they are perfect for each other

A/N: I love Ateez, I love Pokemon, what more can I say? I had so much fun researching to find the very best match for each member and I had so many ideas I could probably fill out a 6 pokemon team for all of them 🤔 Enjoy!

My masterlist 💕

Seonghwa

Cinccino is both cute and elegant, and according to the Pokedex: “Its body secretes oil that this Pokémon spreads over its nest as a coating to protect it from dust. Cinccino won’t tolerate even a speck of the stuff.” Won’t tolerate a speck of dust? Sounds very familiar… Additionally, the oil Cinccino secretes is supposed to be great for your skin! That would explain how Seonghwa’s skin is so flawless!

Alternatively, I could see Morpeko as Hwa’s partner pokemon. Both have a voracious appetite, short temper, and two distinct sides! Morpeko’s “Hangry Form” could be analogous to Seonghwa’s demon mode on the stage, while the “Full Belly Mode” is sweet and adorable just like Hwa in a Lego live. Morpeko is a dark/electric type and that just feels really fitting for how haunting and electrifying Seonghwa’s performances are!

Hongjoong

Wouldn’t it be SO cute if Captain had a little Chatot to bounce beats and melodies around with while producing?! “Chatot keeps rhythm by flicking its tail feathers like a metronome. It imitates human speech.” That is literally perfect for a late-night studio sessions! Plus a flying type would be useful in rounding up the pirate crew (and based on a parrot? It fits the pirate theme a little too good tbh).

Alternatively, the Galarian Zigzagoon line would also suite Hongjoong I think. A dark-type pokemon (heyyy leader of Demon Line!), they like to pick fights, they look punk, and the final evolution has a “threatening posture and booming voice” yeah that’s our captain alright. And the final nail in the Zigzagoon line coffin; only the Linoone (second stage evolution) that demonstrates leadership qualities evolve into the final form, Obstagoon. I rest my case.

Yunho 

It’s Growlithe! Argue with your momma because I am so right on this one! Pokedex says, “Very friendly and faithful to people” and, “It has a brave and trustworthy nature” also, “It fearlessly stands up to bigger and stronger foes.” Those are straight up descriptions of Yunho. A sweet and morally right tiger/puppy for our big puppy! Other noteworthy characteristics: fire type for a fire sign (he’s an Aries), and Growlithe has the hidden ability “Justified” and I feel that Yunho has a strong sense of justice!

Alternatively, it could be Gallade for three main reasons! 1st: Gallade has the same hidden ability as Growlithe, Justified, so that still applies. 2nd: Gallade evolves from Ralts → Kirlia, both of which are dancing pokemon so that fits Mr Main Dancer perfectly. And 3rd: the serious/protective vibes from Gallade suit the more serious and protective side of Yunho. You know exactly what I’m talking about.  

Yeosang

I feel like the obvious choice would be Houndoom or some other dog pokemon for our doberman but I really think Clefairy suits him more! The Pokedex states, “Its adorable behavior and cry make it highly popular. However, this cute Pokémon is rarely found.” That is Yeosang! Adorable and highly popular, a rare gem indeed. Just a little fairy, dancing in the light of the full moon with not a single thought in its head.

Alternatively, Leavanny is also a good match! Out of all the members Yeosang feels the most bug-like to me (affectionately). “When Leavanny finds a small Pokémon, they weave clothing for it from leaves, using the cutters on its arms and sticky silk.” All I can picture is Yeo cradling that little baby with Wooyoung when they tried (and failed) to put the baby to sleep. I think Leavanny speaks to Yeo’s secret nurturing side.

San

Our Namhae boy, born and raised near the ocean with the most gentle of hearts and an angelic voice! Lapras is the perfect pokemon for him, “A smart and kindhearted Pokémon, it glides across the surface of the sea while its beautiful song echoes around it.” Lapras is also a water/ice type and San is a water sign, so +1 point! And fuck it, shiny Lapras since purple is San’s favorite color! Lapras are also known as the transport pokemon and happily ferry people and pokemon on their back… sturdy and reliable just like a mountain.

Alternatively, Polliwrath/Politoed fit the bill! Another water type, however this line is interesting because both final evolutions would suit San in my opinion. “Poliwrath’s highly developed, brawny muscles never grow fatigued, however much it exercises. It is so tirelessly strong, this Pokémon can swim back and forth across the ocean without effort.” Attests to San’s detwinkification and gym rat tendencies for sure! Or Politoed, “Whenever three or more of these get together, they sing in a loud voice that sounds like bellowing.” and all I can think of is PADAAAA, *sigh* he was so cute and so is Politoed.

Mingi

This one stumped me for a while because there are so many possibilities but I think one that most encapsulates Mingi is Toxtricity! A poison and electric type with two forms (although I think the pictured Low Amp form is more fitting), the pokedex says, “It has an electrical organ on its chest. While generating electricity, it fills its surroundings with what sounds like the strumming of a bass guitar.” That perfectly mirrors Mingi’s deep/growly baritone voice that just captures your attention immediately! Also, the Low Amp form Toxtricity have a more laidback, bashful, quiet, and serious nature which I think also describe Mingi off-camera. 

Alternatively, I couldn’t leave out an option that speaks to our Princess Minki, so I will also say Jigglypuff. It’s adorable but also a little bit annoying, loves to sing all the time (tiramisu cakeeee), and Jigglypuff need lots of attention and praise from their captive audience. That is our princess that needs protecting.

Wooyoung

Why the cunning Purrloin of course! The cunty-levels are off the charts with this one, look at the way it’s standing! I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a picture of Woo standing exactly like that. Purrloin is the most babygirl of all the pokecats and a pure dark type, so this pokemon embodies “little shit” energy. “Opponents that get drawn in by its adorable behavior come away with stinging scratches from its claws and stinging pride from its laughter.” I just think Wooyoung with a Purrloin would get into so much trouble lol, even more trouble than he already causes, RIP Hongjoong. 

Alternatively, Totodile… yes I had to pick a biter, but I have other reasons too! “It is small but rough and tough. It won’t hesitate to take a bite out of anything that moves.” Lmao, come on now! Woo is the very definition of small and rough and tough! We all saw the Salary Lupin episodes, he’s scrappy for sure. And while Wooyoung is a sagittarius, he’s got a cancer moon so it’s giving water sign energy! 

Jongho

For our maknae, I choose the Stuffle Line, no further questions. I’m kidding of course, but how perfect is Stuffle/Bewear?! For Stuffle, the pokedex states, “Its fluffy fur is a delight to pet, but carelessly reaching out to touch this Pokémon could result in painful retaliation.” Is that not Baby Bear any time the members try to hug or kiss him? A normal/fighting type also seems fitting for the “most normal” member of Ateez. Very much giving “Looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you” energy.

Alternatively, Cetoddle (specifically Cetoddle, not necessarily its evolution) would also suit Jongho! Another tank of a pokemon that loves the ice/snow just like our baby bear. Couldn’t you see him snowboarding down a snowy mountain with this cutie beside him? Or them building a snow-pokemon in the winter? My heart is melting (or freezing?) just thinking about it!!!

And that’s it! My first post 🥹 I hope you enjoyed this silly little headcannon! Drop a comment of which pokemon would be your partner 🌟

All writing content created here belongs to @staytinyweeniebeanie and I do not consent to my work being reposted on other platforms without permission!

Reblogs and Comments are always welcome and highly appreciated!

Divider by @enchanthings 

[a-minke-whales-tale]

I received two related questions so I figured I would answer them together. I didn't know a good way to do this so I am going to just screenshot the questions and paste them here so I can answer them.

The question of finding a place that will take us a a pretty persistent question and worry that comes up when we talk about our hopes for the future. And at this point, I simply do not know where exactly we will go exactly.

We will need people to take care of us. Our care will mirror other cetaceans in a number of ways. We will have to live in a tank and we will require clean water to minimise respiratory infection and probably also on the skin of our nose the mouth. We can eat a mostly cetacean diet, though most of our fish will have to be deboned (though there are some fish that have bones we can eat which we will need for calcium) and they will have to be particular fish to give us enough fat. We will also need to be supplemented with gelatine like other cetaceans are for water content, though for us the gelatine will also need to contain some amount of fruit and vegetable to fill our remaining micronutrient needs as well as some fibre. We will require some sort of cleaning on the outside whether that takes the form of scrubbing or rubdowns other cetaceans are given. We will also need to be periodically taken out of the water and out of the suits for them to be maintained as well as our human bodies under them in particular our skin, and unless I can come up with an alternative solution, expel solid waste. It is for the most part, except removing us from the water, not terribly different from most other cetaceans.

In exchange though the humans would get a number of pretty unique things from us. Ike and I are at least pretty unique animals, though even there are not terribly many Common Dolphin in captivity. There have been before three other Minke in captivity, all at Mito. Ike is an Orca which are particularly prized. For Ike and myself we are also going to be permanently calf size which hopefully the humans find cute, but more significantly means we can live in a much smaller tank. To a grown orca or even a dolphin a pool like those at Kobe which are around 25 meters long are very small, but for us, I think a tank that size would be very comfortable. Being small we also require a lot less food; a full grown minke would require about 300kg of food a day, by comparison even swimming all day, we will need 1-2kg of food per day, less even than many dolphin. We are also willing to be on display and perform for humans. The latter might be benefited particularly by our situation since we will probably still be treated in a legal sense as humans. A number of countries have or are banning either cetacean captivity, cetacean shows, or cetacean shows for entertainment.

I think all these factors means that some human somewhere will find us profitable and worth keeping. The path exactly how we get from making the suit to living in a tank is still unclear, but I think this is also something that we cannot fully know how exactly the path will turn out until we get closer. I do hope we go to an aquarium or a marine park eventually. I personally often like to dream to live in Mito, like the other Minke before me. Ike likes to send me pictures of and talk about Kobe - their tanks do look very nice. At first, the humans might present us as performers or much like the various mermaid performances. That might even be a place to go and live for a while in any number of places that might have something like that, either a small facility in itself, or a resort, or a show, or theme/amusement park. I think all of those would be less nice than living in a marine park or aquarium but still I would be happy to be in a place like that. There are around 200 aquariums and well over 100 dolphinariums world wide, and there are plenty of other places that could probably accommodate us. I do not know where we will go, or if we will be able to be together. I hope we will be able to be together and at least go some place relatively nice. Still many days places like Niagara, Antibes, or even MSQ seem preferable to our current circumstance.

As for if anyone has ever done this before, no, not to my knowledge. Not with whales and not really with other animals. There is the story of one man who lived life as a goat for a couple months. Most of the people that have done animal transitions generally alter the physical body rather than prosthetics and continue to live in the human world like the lizard man or the cat man. Some people have made particularly realistic costumes like that rough collie in Japan a year or so ago. As for prosthetics for swimming Winter is the main example, though her body was less altered than ours and the prosthetics just had to cover her tail. Even if what we want to do has not been done before, that does not mean it cannot be done. I am a fairly clever engineer - it would not be the first time I create something not done before. Everything in our world that exists, at one point had yet not been done. I believe we will swim free someday, and we will swim forever.

[just-more-pr0mts]

This may have already been done before but here's my take on things. Sorry if it seems like I copied anyone but this was a shower thought

(I edited it a bit)

In an alternate universe, where danny does get electrocuted, but instead of becoming a halfa and protecting his town, he dies.

All that's left is a smoking corpse. But out of that corpse comes danny. In his ghost form.

And in his panic he hides his own body and his ghostly body adapts, he looks almost human again. But who's going to notice if his teeth are sharper and his skin paler?

Certainly not his parents, but maybe his friends, classmates?

Que Danny instead of becoming a superhero-vigilante he's just a normal boy trying to hide the fact that he's a ghost replacing the person he once was.

Shenanigans ensue, and we follow danny doing ridiculous things to keep his secret. And everyone can see that somethings wrong with him, but he just won't accept help!

His rouges instead of fighting him are trying to get him to understand, to move on. That he can't stay here forever. But he is still a child, a grieving child. And so they fight, they argue, they cry and eventually come to a conclusion, they'll give him until the end of high school to figure it out, then he has to come to the ghost zone.

And now all appears to be going well, it's almost been a year since his death day. 8 months 1 week 3 days to be exact. But something is bothering him, his parents are working on something, something big. The fights he had over the last few months attracted thier attention and that isn't a good sign.

Jack and Maddie Fenton have made a weapon. A weapon that can pull a ghost from where it's hiding. They announce to the world thier discovery and along with it thier plan. They were going to 'study' these creatures and determine if they were a threat.

People around the world have been split. Half were in full support of the Fentons and half called them out saying thier plans were inhumane and dangerous. They protested outside Fenton works.

And Danny? He was scared he was worried about what his parents might do if they found out.

Tha brings us to now as danny was being dragged at his feet desperately trying to get away as thier machine pulled him toward the cage. He clawed and kicked but it was no use, he sat in the cage hands at the bars. Looking out at the see of people and hundreds of cameras, fear clear in his eyes.

His parents, his mom, his dad they looked at him, horror etched into thier faces. Where is our boy?! Where is our son?! What have you done with our baby? They cried. But turned away from him when he gave them his answer.

"Am I really that unrecognizable?"

[fanficsiwillneverwrite]

On my umpteenth rewatch of lok, I had a sudden interest in old Zuko…. And let’s just say another wip is brewing in my brain now about Zuko and his involvement in book 3 :/

Zuko looks in the mirror and sees only a face he no longer recognizes: old, long past its prime. An old wound haunting him, even how many years later. It happened so long ago; only yesterday. Shaky hands rub the rough skin as the memory takes hold. It was for the better, he once told himself long ago. It led him on the path of good, toward the light. But the thought of giving such a punishment to Izumi… He admittedly was not perfect when it came to raising her, but he was no Ozai.

Through the reflection, he sees Akari, the Firelord’s senior aide, emerge from the golden doors. “Lord Zuko,” she says with a respectful and low bow. Her voice is distant, muffled, despite being so near. Just a reminder of his aging body. “The Firelord will see you now.”

He nods, acknowledging her, but his focus remains on the stranger–no, the old man–staring back at him, copying every move he makes. Akari backs away to give him space. And he touches a few wrinkles. Uncle always said they were a sign of living, far better than the alternative. His laughter still echoes in his mind; the steam of hot tea still lingers around him.

He moves away from his reflection and into the throne room where his daughter sits high above him in all her glory. Zuko smiles as he bows–and his old bones crack as he bends. Another reminder that the old man in the mirror and the boy who thought his destiny was to capture the Avatar were one in the same. “The Firelord has requested an audience with me. I would be interested in knowing what for.”

“Hello Dad,” greets Izumi gently as she stands. She approaches him, a familiar look of care mixed with concern permanently captures her face each time she looks at him. He knows it well. Old age brings on pity. No, Uncle would say, old age brings on care. They hug and, suddenly, he is drunk with the scent of familiarity. Once Mai’s favorite perfume worn now by a grieving daughter who wants only to keep her mother close. “How are you?”

“I am fine, daughter,” he assures, his hand squeezing her shoulder as if to emphasize the fact. Sadness lingers around them with Mai’s passing just over a year ago. “Though, perhaps it is I who should be asking you that very question. Avatar Korra has led us into a new age where spirits and mankind must now live together in harmony. As the Firelord, it is your duty to make her decision a reality. With some guidance from me, of course, if it doesn’t interfere with my nap time.”

She rolls her eyes as a smile forms. “I think sometimes I can make better sense of your snoring than your political babble,” she teases.

“Be careful what you say next, daughter,” he shoots back. “I still have claim to the throne, you know.”

“Like I’d give it back,” she tells him playfully. But her face turns serious. And like a stuck bandage, the news of why she has summoned him is ripped open quickly to ease the anticipation: “I’ve just received word from President Raiko in Republic City. It seems… Harmonic Convergence has brought back the Airbenders.”

His heart feels as if it has sunk. The Fire Nation’s greatest burden, their deepest regret—now, so suddenly, fixed? He would have to see it to believe it, especially if Raiko is the one reporting it. All the man cares about is the votes. “What?”

“I haven’t yet received word from Tenzin, but there has been at least one Airbender sighting in Caldera alone. Most, it seems, are in the Earth Kingdom.”

“That could mean trouble.”

The Earth Queen remains bitter over land now the United Republic of Nations and everything surrounding it, Air Temple Island included: Earth Kingdom territory, she makes false claims. While her father was timid, mostly oblivious as a leader, Hou-Ting is loud, demanding, and a complete tyrant.

Zuko turns, hurrying out the room. There is no time to waste. “I’ll head straight to Ba Sing Se—”

His daughter is quick to stop him. “The Fire Nation should not have any involvement there, dad. You know this.” His intent would be to liberate this new wave of Airbenders from the grasps of great tyrannical power, but the world might view it as another Firelord’s attempt to again dismantle the Air Nation. He blinks, seeing clearly now as his daughter faces him again. “Furthermore,” Izumi continues cautiously; they’re always dancing around his state of retirement. The nation is hers–it is her birthright–but he makes diplomatic trips around the world to assure peace, to continue what he and Avatar Aang started so long ago, yesterday. “A man your age should really be fretting over pai sho and gardening. Not the state of the world.”

The man she is describing is Uncle. Not him, never him. “I will not turn my back on the world when it still needs me,” Zuko insists. His reflection shows an achy old man with a story long ago completed, but as long as his heart still beats and the fire still burns, he can be useful.

“I know,” she says, “but… you can only do so much before it becomes too overwhelming for you.” She adjusts her glasses as a sigh escapes her. “Dad, I care only for your safety–”

“I am still capable–”

“–which is why I think it perfectly sensible for you to take in a ward.”

He stops, hurt–offended. “A-a ward?”

“One of Master Muromachi’s young pupils,” she continues. “Someone who can be your companion. Someone who will watch your back and defend you when you’re unable.”

Zuko huffs, rubbing his forehead in frustration. His daughter thinks him unable, an invalid of his craft now just because of a few wrinkles. Spirits! He is Lord Zuko, Leader of the Fire Nation and the Avatar’s Firebending Master. And she thinks he needs a sidekick? Some noble boy defending his honor? “No, absolutely not. I don’t need some child protecting me.”

Izumi rolls her eyes. “This isn’t a suggestion, dad. Master Muromachi is expecting you. We’ll go down there this afternoon.”

He stomps away stubbornly, like a child not getting his way. The roles were reversed long ago, just yesterday when he was still in charge, when he was still capable. “I can choose my own ward, can’t I?”

“Of course–”

“Then I’ll go on my own, if it pleases the Firelord.”

He exits before she can answer. Anger boils within him. He hates being the man who is old, the man who needs help. Most of his friends are gone now and this new generation is perfectly competent, his daughter being one of them, but the fire still burns inside him. The face in the mirror is the face he saw long ago–yesterday–when there was no scar.

The Fire Nation Academy for Gifted Boys is a secondary school for sons of nobles. It teaches Nonbenders how to fight through the art of swordsmanship. Only the best, or most wealthy, can attend. And the training is rigorous, not for the faint hearted. Tom-Tom became one of the academy’s pupils when he came of age, mastering sword fighting at the age of fourteen. Firelord Ozai always dismissed the school’s teachings, saying Nonbenders could never truly be masters without the ability of bending. In his final years, without his bending, his father learned the way of the sword, though he never tried to understand the relationship between a man and his blade, thus never becoming a full master of the craft.

These days the school is just as rigorous with Master Muromachi, a stern and, dare he say, cruel man, in charge of this new generation of fighters. The boys stand straight in a line when Lord Zuko arrives. Eyes forward, not one hair out of place, not a single crease in their suits. Their movements are in sync as they all bow low when Muromachi introduces him to them.

“You have honored this school with your presence, Lord Zuko,” Muromachi says with a bow of his own. He moves aside for Zuko to properly examine his students. “Please, choose anyone you think is worthy.” He gestures to the tallest of the group: tan skinned and golden eyed, Zuko sees a darkness in him that brings only suspicion. The way the boy eyes him; it’s not like the others. “Eigo here is our star pupil.”

“Is that so?”

Muromachi gestures again and Eigo assumes a fighting stance as he draws his sword. He dances with it around Zuko–impressive but, still, there is something about him that he doesn’t quite like–before returning to his spot in line.

“Very good,” Zuko tells him, “though I find your lack of moderation rather… unsettling.”

The boy’s expression darkens at the criticism. Not suitable for his company at all. Muromachi moves on without a visible reaction: “Pao,” he calls. And the next boy moves skillfully around the room with his blades. A mindless routine, practiced over and over again until perfection. He does what he is told and nothing more.

“Your moves, though highly skillful, lack originality,” Zuko notes. He will find something wrong for each of them. He does not need a protector, nor does he want one.

Muromachi becomes more tense as they move down the line, each boy weaker than the last. This Academy is a show and these so-called warriors are nothing more than performers this day in age, not like how they used to be, he will tell his daughter later over tea. That is why he did not choose a child today. That is why he should not have a ward.

Finally, they arrive at the last: the smallest of the group. A softness exists within him that the other boys do not have. Short hair above his ears cut in a wonky bowl shape and fierce blue eyes with a sparkle in them that shows he is ready, not to win but to fight for what is right—he knows those eyes. It hits him, suddenly. A girl, disguised as a young boy.

“Lee!” orders Muromachi, sweating profusely at this point. Zuko instantly understands the name is false, an alias to hide her true nature.

And the girl disguised as a boy begins her dance around Zuko. Her movements are hesitant. She nearly trips over her own two feet. Her two swords do not move together as one but rather as completely separate entities. An amateur compared to her peers. Muromachi is visibly appalled by her performance, but remains silent out of respect for his guest. Zuko, admittedly, is intrigued by the girl. Why would she openly go through such turmoil?

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024, #21 fire

White Pony Tattoo - Part Two (Fire)

“What? You, how…” John struggled for words. “This is impossible!” He is impossible!

“To a lesser mind maybe. To me, it’s obvious.” Sherlock shrugged, a bored expression on his face.

Now this is unbelievable. How can he be so dismissive and haughty?

John remembered that a lot of people who had rated this shop on the internet had called Sherlock a brilliant tattoo artist but personality-wise a total arsehole.

Guess they have been spot-on, John thought.

“This is terribly rude, you know?” John’s temper rose quickly. Since he had nothing left to lose, having been rejected already, John added for good measure, “Has anybody ever told you that you’re an utter dick?”

John faced Sherlock’s piercing stare with blazing eyes. His mouth was set into a fierce line as if John was about to jump head-first into battle, hands clenched.

John had expected that Sherlock would get insulted and just throw him out, but no, something completely different and unexpected happened.

Sherlock laughed.

Genuinely and heartily and actually enjoying the verbal attack.

“Now and then, yes.”

Sherlock’s bored face transformed into one shining with mirth, laugh lines had formed and his stunning eyes had changed their colour into a sunny blue green hue.

“Ah, yes. Here appears the soldier, finally.” Sherlock nodded appreciatively.

John was dumbfounded by Sherlock’s uncanny knowledge about him. How does he do this?

Sherlock stepped around the wooden counter and circled once around John, evaluating every inch of his body like a predator might scrutinize its prey for suitabilty to be devoured.

Unconsciously, John assumed a military stance and that earned him a raised eye brow by Sherlock.

“You’re not cowed.” Sherlock stated. “Good. I love the feisty clients.”

John’s skin shivered from alternating waves of cold and heat, being under Sherlock’s renewed hyper-attention. Something grew inside of him and reached out like a flower stretching towards the sun.

Yet, John refused to feel intimidated, so he raised his chin and fixed his eyes on Sherlock’s, locking them in a visual chokehold.

“Am I now?” John inquired, voice steady just as his hand. “A client? Not boring anymore?”

“Wrong. Twice.” Sherlock clicked his tongue. “Still not a client and I’m still not covering up your awful Virgin Mary tattoo with a boring soldier in full combat gear.”

John was speechless. Again. And hated it. He cannot know this!

John stared at Sherlock, watching him move with the lithe fluidity and enviable grace of a ballet dancer towards a light switch at the wall. Or was it the hidden strength of a prowling jaguar?

John had the distinctive suspicion that Sherlock did this on purpose. He was putting up a show for him. Anyway, the sight was something to behold.

The cozy dimness disappeared when the shop was bathed in harsh white light from a large panel on the ceiling. It shortly hurt John’s eyes and made him blink. The light left no room for vagueness and painted everything in stark contrast and highlighted every angle.

The planes of Sherlock’s angular face now looked like being carved out of Carrara marble and reminded John of Michelangelo’s famous “David” statue.

For the first time since he met the artist, John realized that Sherlock wore a purple dress shirt in the exact same colour as the curtain behind him. The shirt was very tight and hugged Sherlock’s slim but muscular chest like a second skin. It had to be bespoke since there were no wrinkles marring the expensive silk fabric.

Sherlock had left the upper two buttons undone and John caught a glimpse of white smooth skin and the beginning lines of an intricate black tattoo, beguiling and seductive like a promise to explore more. What image might be hidden under there?

Apart from these lines, John saw no other tattoos but Sherlock wore long sleeves that were held together by silver cufflinks in the form a tattoo gun.

Sherlock’s rumbling voice tore John out of these most pleasant musings.

“I offer you a phoenix, rising from the fire. The mystical bird that dies in the flames only to rise again, renewed and stronger than before. This really befits you and your personal resurrection story, don’t you think?”

John swallowed. Is he a mind reader?

“If you accept my offer come back in two days, 2 PM sharp. Now go, my next client arrives in five minutes.” Sherlock made a shooing motion with slender beringed fingers on his dextrous artist’s hand. “You may leave now.”

Shaken and not quite sure was it was that had just happened to him, John found himself back in the pavement in front of the tattoo shop.

Of course, John would come back. He did not have to think about returning to White Pony Tattoo for one single second.

+++++

tagging some people @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs @lisbeth-kk @raina-at

[yuesya]

Shiki might not be in the same weight class, so to speak, as Toji, but in the same age au I feel like she would probably make up for that in sheer unadulterated rage, would this be a scenario she'd be able to do a black flash or two, would she be able to win, I know she might just be able to unwittingly stall but I can't stop thinking about Satoru assuming Shiki hates them and him coming to seeing her whailing on the guy who killed him, alternatively seeing her enter a fight they both know she probably won't win for him

His body feels light, when he wakes up again. Cursed energy thrums through his core, reversed and tingling in his limbs. The blood on his clothes makes the fabric stick disgustingly to his skin, but he's not bleeding anymore. He won't bleed again, not anymore.

Throughout the heavens and the earth, I alone am the Honored One.

Satoru opens his eyes.

The first thing that he sees is a dark blur -the unmistakable form of the man who'd cleaved him open with that strange cursed tool, then stuck a knife into his head. Good, he hasn't gone far. He's not going to have a chance to get the drop on Satoru again.

The second thing that he notices-

A white whirlwind, tumbling into a messy roll and skidding across the ground. Dainty feet plant firmly into the stone steps before the momentum is even fully bled off, and a white-haired girl promptly launches herself back in the Zenin man's direction-

Crimson splatters dot the ground liberally in her wake.

Blood.

That's... Shiki's blood.

... Shiki. Wait, what in the world is she doing here?? Isn't she still supposed to be in Kyoto? Why is she-?

The man roars. A powerful blow connects against the girl's side, and she's sent flying once more. Idiot, idiot. Someone with physical capabilities like that is a terrible matchup for Shiki, who requires close-range physical combat for her technique to be effective. Can't she see that? Is she blind? Doesn't she know that she can't-

The Zenin turns, and Satoru's thoughts stutter to a halt. There's blood dripping down the man's side, his entire right arm severed at the shoulder. And, on his torso... there's also a long slash that looks suspiciously similar to the injury that Satoru himself had sustained.

He... doesn't know what to think about it. Shiki holds no fondness for him, and the feeling is very much mutual. But even so, it's...

...

Across on the other side of the field, his cousin lands in a crouch, and her head snaps up. He's never seen her with that sort of expression before -usually, Shiki is either impassive like a porcelain doll, or wearing a look of faint irritation. But in this moment, there's a fierce snarl on her lips as she glares-

With only one eye.

... There's nothing but a bloody, gaping hole on her face, in the place where her left eye used to be.

Before his mind has even caught up with what he's doing, Satoru finds himself surging to his feet, Blue and Red building in his cursed energy.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

I was reading a story recently where Stiles and the Sheriff were talking about the things that keep happening around them and the Sheriff said something like Stiles talks and acts like veteran soldiers do and after thinking about it that analogy does fit his character so well. It also made me really want to read more stories to do with that idea so I was wondering if you knew any?

Here's some where he has PTSD.

A Little Bit of Encourage-Mint by Mischief_x_Managed

(1/1 I 3,273 I Not Rated I No Pairing)

Stiles goes to a therapist who doesn't try to kill him. Surprisingly it works out well.

Dating and Mating Stiles Stilinski by 1Ginger1Keyboard

(4/? I 4,838 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek isn't used to feeling anything as deeply rooted as the feeling revolving around the hyper teen that goes by the name Stiles Stilinski. It takes Derek a while to wrestle these emotions into a form that allows him to decided he wants to pursue them. Yet, he's normally the one being chased, Derek has never had a problem getting peoples attention, he has a good body and charming looks, so he has to work out how to win the heart of the hyper teen. And to put it gently, Stiles has his very own courting ritual that is unlike any wolf or human ritual. It's just, neither of them knows that. To make it worse, the wolf under Derek's skin is growing impatient.

///What am I?/// by Nel_Lino

(1/? I 6,068 I Explicit I Scallison)

Stiles: Why haven't burnt alive? How could Derek die? Why do I care if he died? *** Scott: I need you to own me, now. Isaac: turn around, little whore. *** Danny: And if you want to try some more of that stuff we did, count on me. *** Young Derek: come here you little superhero! Mietek: I am not a superhero, I am special human!

Dreams Will Be Unified by SilentMagic

(4/? I 16,585 I Mature I Sterek)

When Stiles woke up for his eighteenth birthday, he was expecting a day of celebration and maybe a pack party. He was not expecting to wake up beneath the Nemeton, nor sprouting four furry paws in an alternate reality to learn what it means to be a Guardian. He really should clarify to the universe that he would like a break for at least a whole year before the next supernatural event comes his way.

It Was a Wednesday by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(2/2 I 80,129 I Mature I Sterek)

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?”

Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping.

Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death.

“Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least.

“Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill

(10/10 I 70,382 I Mature I Sterek)

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them." -----

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

I'm not real. Am I? by lady emebalia (emebalia)

(64/64 I 127,977 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek is not real. He's just a pretty form Stiles came up with. At least that's what Stiles keeps telling himself.

You're stronger than you know by Littleredridinghunter

(15/15 I 234,195 I Not Rated I Sterek)

Set at the end of season 2, Stiles survives his encounter with Gerard and his goons, but it isn't easy.

The pack are letting him down again, his dad is not speaking to him, his life is just generally falling apart.

Until he has to get a bronze dagger to kill a siren and his whole world gets flipped on it's head!

Alpha, Mage, Pack by Foxfire2018

(48/? I 480,285 I Explicit I Sterek)

Set at the end of Season 2. Stiles was kidnapped and tortured for hours. Yet no one came for him. Hurt and cast out of the pack by people he thought cared for him, what is he to do? He finds himself accompanied by someone he never expected and someone he is eternally grateful for. Derek feels betrayed and foolish for what he allowed to happen. Out of anger and hurt he forced a valuable member he really started to care for out of his pack. With the pack scattered and people hurt, what will come of them? Will they bond together again in time for the next big bad?

AND

@neverdust suggested this one!

Play It Again by metisket

(3/3 I 53,206 I Teen I Sterek)

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.

“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

[leeknowsintrusivethots]

Marked By Him

Part 1 | ?????

Pairings: Lee Know(SKZ)/OC, Secretssssss here

Summary: Vampyres dominate the entertainment world with their otherworldly beauty and talent. It's a world you must be born into, but a few lucky ones are Marked. Stripped from her home and everything she knows, Minji's Marking means that she has to rely on the Devil himself, Lee Minho, to be her mentor. He's cute and sweet to the public, but behind closed doors the monster comes out to play.

Content: Angst, slow burn romance, lotsa plot, eventual smut, vampires, darkish romance, original characters, first person perspective, general 18+ content, asshole Lee Know, alternate idol universe, love triangle (Surprise), pet names: kitten/mouse

WC: 2,208

Minors do NOT interact. Do NOT repost my work in anyway. This includes translations or sharing to sites such as Wattpad or Ao3.

Notes: I have risen from the dead through the power of Stray Kids. This one is intended to be a long form story, probably around 20 parts or so or until it reaches a natural end. Individual parts will be labeled as smut and smut warnings will be included for future parts. Ngl, it's mostly wish fulfillment and because not many people seem to write longer SKZ content. Enjoy, my dirty dirty friends.

"He will meet you in Conference Room Number Zero."

I waited for his arrival with anticipation creating a knot in the pit of my stomach. Not even meeting the CEO of JYP Entertainment had caused such nerves to take root. This was the person I would be spending most of my time with - the one who would integrate me into my new life. He would be my mentor and teacher. I could only guess at what kind of person he would be.

Would he be kind? Smart? As ethereal and graceful as they usually are?

They were known for their cold beauty - so chilling and unreal that it haunted people as well as it enamored them. I am sure, just like humans, they varied but every single one that graced the media was the image of physical perfection. They were Gods come to life amongst mortals. If even the average ones were half as good looking, they still had to be pretty damn exceptional compared to humans.

And so I waited.

The dusty, peculiarly ancient looking grandfather clock chimed in the corner of the room. It didn't fit the image JYP was associated with: a sleek and modern entertainment company that housed some of the brightest talents in Korea. As a matter of fact, the entire 'conference room' felt out of place compared to the rest of the building. The modernity of the outside was forgotten in the confines of the four walls that surrounded me.

The wallpaper was reminiscent of an ancient mansion: a dark royal blue with silver feligreses interspersed through the length. All of the windows in the building were tinted darkly to ward off paparazzi but also natural light, but the windows in this room were completely covered. The only light source came from elegant sconces that dotted the walls and an antique lamp that sat in on the corner of the desk I was seated at. The rest of the room was filled with shelves of books and peculiar looking items that my frazzled brain refused to make sense of.

All I could do was marvel at where life had taken me: at how I was going from ordinary to extraordinary.

The doorknob twisting had me sitting up straighter in my seat and my eyes widening in alert. I held my breath as the door disengaged and opened. It felt like life had gone into slow motion as he entered. As I took in my mentor, the world stopped as my heart sped up and heat rose in my cheeks.

He was beautiful. He had sharp facial features that only God himself could have chiseled: perfectly pouty lips that would put most human women to shame, large dark eyes that captured the soul at a glance, perfectly styled black hair that looked so thick and soft I wanted to run my hands through it just to see if it was real, and clear skin without a single blemish. He could have been a painting, a true work of art.

And even more insane: I knew who he was.

I watched music videos with him in them. I bought his group's albums at every release. I had posters of him on my bedroom walls back in Busan. I had spent countless hours of my youth being a dedicated fan.

"Minji?" Lee Minho questioned with a raised brow.

I was so enraptured I hadn't even noticed the door shut. I hadn't even noticed that he had crossed the room to stand behind the chair opposite of me. I had also completely forgotten my manners. I pushed back from my chair in a haste and stood up. I bowed deeply, partly out of how much respect I had for him but also as an apology for forgetting myself.

"Hello. I am Minji," I greeted formally.

He nodded with an air of boredom about him in return before taking the seat he was behind. Even the way he sat was gracefully beautiful. The man could burn whole cities and he would be forgiven based on his looks alone.

"Sit," he commanded simply. I did as I was told and resumed my seat immediately. I couldn't help but to study his features further, committing them to memory to paint later. His sharp jaw, his soft looking mouth, and his eyes. Eyes that were staring at me with something scarily remicent of disdain under a dark cocked brow.

Suddenly, I felt inferior. I felt unworthy to look at him so blatantly. Who was I to stare at someone like him? My eyes fell to the table before me in something akin to shame.

"I am assuming the Tracker gave you all the usual information pamphlets?" he asked in a bored tone. I got the impression he wanted to be anywhere other than in that room with me. It hurt that the man I idolized seemed to be so disinterested in me, but what did I expect? He had millions of fans all over the world.

"Yes," I answered as steadily as I could. I heard him rustling through papers and waited as patiently as I could for him to offer more information or even ask something else, but he didn't. I only willed myself to glance up at the loud thud of something being dropped onto the desk in front of me. It was a large book - a textbook. It was eerily new and modern compared to the rest of the contents in the room. The title was simply "Marked."

"This book has been approved by the Association to help guide you into your new life," he said with a small but beautiful chuckle at the end as if he found the book amusing more than anything. "You will finish a chapter every two days in-between normal idol training."

"I- I can do that," I stuttered when he paused as if waiting for a response.

"Good girl," he almost scoffed in mockery at my answer. My cheeks heated again and strangely a small tingle made itself known between my legs at the insincere praise. I did my best to ignore it. When he didn't continue, I chanced a glance up at him to find him smirking in amusement before he continued. "After each chapter, we will meet here for any questions and to review what you have learned."

He paused again, and I nodded to show I understood without daring another look at him. I was never a loud or overly confident person, I was simply quiet. That didn't mean I was a doormat, until Lee Minho walked through the door. I was fairly certain at that moment I was wearing a shirt inviting him to step on me.

"I was told to make myself available to you for further questions and help in between meetings," he continued. I heard a rustling as he stood from his chair. I refused to look up even as his shoes appeared in my peripheral. I could feel his presence next to me like a reaper come to take my life, but the normal feeling of body heat was absent. A cold hand pushed the long loose hair back from my shoulder, exposing the bare column of my neck to the chill of him and the room. I involuntarily shuddered.

"You won't have any questions or need any help, will you?" he asked with a faux saccharine in his voice that somehow chilled me to my core. The blood in my veins had turned to ice as my heart pumped harder to compensate. My words stuck in my throat as a strange panic set in.

I knew they were dangerous. I knew they could hurt me, but this was Lee Minho - Lee Know of Stray Kids. He was the weird but sweet one who showed his affection by spanking his fellow members. He was not the kind of person who discreetly threatened strangers, but I felt like that's exactly what he was doing.

"Answer me, Mouse," he all but demanded with the fake sweetness fading and the chill boredom returning to his voice.

Insanity comes in all forms and from all places. Sometimes it's as simple as someone making a noise that gets on your nerves that makes you snap. In my case: I had traveled to a whole new city on my own and uprooted my life in a move that was not of my choosing. I was alone. I was scared. I was changing into something I couldn't even begin to comprehend in a world I had only read about, and the man I had considered to be my ultimate kpop bias was threatening me and treating me like a burden. The actual audacity.

My head snapped up and my eyes found his. I stared at him with a newfound sense of annoyance. I didn't ask for this - I wasn't even sure if I wanted it. How could he treat me so badly when he was fully aware of the situation?

"My name is Minji," I snapped with as much force in my voice as I could muster. "If we are to be forced into this situation together, at least call me by my proper name."

I don't know what I was expecting, but I wasn't expecting him to give a dark chuckle and his eyes to fill with - amusement? I also wasn't expecting long elegant fingers to reach up and take hold of my chin in a firm grip. His touch was cold. Despite my efforts to keep it from affecting me, it shot sparks of heat through my entire body in contrast to his temperature.

"Maybe not a mouse, then. A kitten with little ineffective claws," he mused. He held my gaze as he taunted me, keeping his hold firm on my chin. His face came closer and my delusional heart pounded out an encore. His soft lips were right there, just mere inches from my own. I could feel his cool breath on my cheek as he moved to my ear. His next words tickled my skin and had me shivering again. "Careful, Kitten. I like the feisty ones."

Insanity gripped me again. It was madness, pure and simple. I was taunting not a God like I thought, but the devil himself. I was starting to see that, but I did it anyway. "I'm sure they don't feel the same way. Cats are very good judges of character."

A sharp inhale against the side of my face followed a light chuckle as he pulled back to hold my gaze captured yet again. The amusement was still present, boredom all but gone, but it was mixed with something else - something darker, scarier.

"Word of advice kitten," he started. His cool hand released its grip on my chin to trail up my jaw and to the center of my forehead. "This Mark doesn't mean shit. You will never really be one of us - just an imitation - and no one here will praise you for it. It's a target, and you will be surrounded by predators."

"Why?" His words chilled me, actually had me fighting the impulse to shake in my seat, but the confusion weighed out. I didn't understand this world - I didn't understand them.

"Don't ask questions, Kitten, and maybe I'll take care of you if I decide it's worth it." For just a brief moment, his eyes glanced down at my lips. My silly heart almost couldn't take it, but I persevered.

"But-"

"No," he stated firmly. His hand had fallen back to my chin, and his thumb brushed against my lower lip almost accidentally. My breath hitched. "Listen and behave, Kitten. That Mark already draws attention, don't make it worse by being a brat."

With that, his cool presence was gone. He moved away so fast that I blinked and he was across the room at the door with his sinful fingers wrapped around the door handle. He didn't turn back as he spoke again. "A car is waiting at the front of the building. It will take you to the dorms. Welcome to hell, Kitten."

His words, combined with the entirety of the events that had just transpired, were the icy wake up call I needed. I had been Marked. I was entering a new plane of existence I knew hardly anything about, but I was already learning. It was dangerous. It was not at all like the media and the Association wanted the world to believe. They had painted the things that go bump in the night to be beautiful but perfectly normal parts of society - but the painting was beginning to turn red for me and it was only day one.

An antique mirror wedged between two bookshelves caught my eye. I vacated my seat and went to stand before it. The girl in the mirror was familiar. Long, dark hair, a light complexion with a smattering of freckles across the nose bridge. It was me, yet it wasn't. The mark stood in stark contrast against my skin. It was a dark purple outline in the shape of a crescent moon. It was a sign that I was changing. It was a sign I was becoming one of them.

I was becoming a Vampyre.

[sonicblueartist]

Untold Stories

Masterlist

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃: Yes || No

Pairings: Tails x Reader

They/them // She/her // He/him // Other

Summery; We are stuck between zombots. A ceratin fox coming to our rescue.

Warnings: angst, blood, tearing of skin, claws, broken bones...

Word Count: 1500

A/N: This fic insparied from here. All rights to the creator! A Sonic IDW non-canon moment (alternative kind of end).

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

Have Fun!

You glance around in fair breath intermittently. You yelp feeling claws on your back. Quickly stumbling away you look around. You are trapped, surrounded by zombots.

At least your friends are safe on the Angel Island. As alright as they can be in this epidemic world, you pondered. But you knew better then doubting your friends. They will find a way to turn everything back to normal. You know it.

You smiled, closing your eyes. You sniffed a tear slipping down to your chin. You will turn into one of them soon... It's nearly covering half of your body now but you will still keep fighting till the very end just like Sonic and your friends.

You opened your eyes, don't forget you are doing this for for them, for everyone.

You jumped away from a zombot's attack and landed on one's face. You leaped as far as your body let you, you were so close to reaching a rooftop but your fingers only slipped inchest away from your sweet escape. Looking down where you gonna land, you feared only for a second, that's it, this will be your end. Zombots swarmed everywhere, this time there is no way out for you to flee.

Your lips curved with the bitter truth. Wow, so this is how it gonna be? You always wanted it to end while saving someone. At least for once, doing something right, like your friends. Dying like a hero. A person people would look up to and not easily forget about but... you only gonna get lost between these mindless beings. No way to be noticed, distinguish, known...

You closed your eyes as you falled, friends, I have faith in all of you, sorry for the dissapointment--

You yelped, your eyes quickly opening, your feet halting just inches away from a clawing zombot. Your breath hitched, no, tears wells up in your eyes. No...

Your eyes widen in terror, a force pulling you up and away from the field of zombots. Your body stiff in his hold. No...

You shakily looked up, in that moment, you wished he would have failed to catch you.

Tears slipped out of your eyes. You couldn't even open your mouth to form words, or cry or yell at all. You only stare at his determined face. No...

Why did he come back? Why him of all people?

You two crash landed on a place you can call safe for now. No zombots in sight... for now at least.

You grunt sitting up on your shaking limbs.

He turned to you with a smile, "Haha, Sorry for the nasty landing, are you okay?"

You stare at your metalic hands, your back facing him. Your cold, harsh and dreadfull body...

"Y/n--?"

"I am fine..." You swallowed harshly holding yourself back from turning to him, your voice nearly breaking, "Thanks to you..."

You cleanched your hands, brows knitting, "You always had a good catch... but the cure is no more..." You shakily whispered back.

"It is." He confirmed as he calmly gazed at your form.

"Then..." You turned to him, swallowing your sobs as your tears flow down from your face, his ears sulked with your upset face, "...Then it must be one of those brilliant plans of yours, right? Right?! Because you caught me..." You breathed out trying to seem hopeful behind all that tears as your voice broke down, showing that you don't believe what you said.

He chuckles meekly and glanced down, his lips continuing to hold that bittersweet smile.

You call out to him softly, prying whoever is listening to you up there to at least get something in his brilliant mind.

He gazes at you melancholically, shrugging.

He gets up to his feet, his eyes never cease to leave your own, "Sometimes you just gotta roll with it. Sonic teached us that, didn't he?"

You get up to your feet as he continued, "I get to act impulsively sometimes too." He smiled at you with open arms.

"No..." You whispered as you approuched him. With sudden emotions you hold onto his arms jogging him with such force he was nearly loosing his balance, "No! Tails! NO, not YOU!! This isn't something you should get from him!! You just can't throw your life away for something like this!!! Why?!! Why did you do this!?! You could- You could help, save or- or do whatever everyone couldn't! You could figure out something... to help..." You wailed and sobbed.

He grabbed your hands to support your weak form from falling, "We promised remember? We are never going to—"

"Idiot!! You are not getting it!! It's not me that matters! I do not matter compared to the WORLD!!!" Your voiced echoed.

There was a pause, only your little sobs were heard for a minute.

"Maybe... but you do matter to me."

You paused, an aching pain inside your heart, you lift your head, you weren't ready to face his soft eyes. It only made you to tear uo even nore to the point you can no longer see but a blur. You sniffed and coughed on your words. You couldn't hold back the tears anymore. Your shoulders shake with your loud sobs. You felt a warm hand on your cheeck wiping away the tears flowing down.

He holds your face in his hands, "It's okay... You know... I couldn't bear the thought of leaving you here all alone... in your last moments. I have faith in all our friends. They are going to achieve the good end. I trust Sonic. You should too." He paused and sucked a deep breath, you blinked your tears away to see his warm smile, "But even if this is going to be our last moments.... I wanted to spend it all with you."

Your eyes widen, your breath caught in your throat. With that glint in his eyes, you knew he was serious. It touched something deep inside your heart that you never even knew that existed. You dropped your head, hiding your face under your hair, "I know they will fix everything... I just... I am worried about you." Your fingers just hovered over his back, still fearing to touch him, bodies so close you can feel his warmth that eases your pain... only a bit.

He huged your form tightly, your eyes widen, only that moment you noticed how much you were craving for physical contact. You sucked a deep breath and tightly hugged him back, burying your face in his warm chest. Shivering with the cold metal patches slowly surrounding his body. You closed your eyes tightly. This was your fault that he is going down with you... If you were able to be faster and didn't let that zombot touch you--

You freezed when you felt his grip tighten.

"Stop thinking, Y/n... This was my choice and... I want you to respect it. I don't want our last moments to be all sad at all..."

You paused then relaxed your stiff body, relieving with a sigh.

"Can you... promise me everything will be... okay... for real?" You whispered, your voice muffled on his chest.

"I promise in the end, everything will be fine." He caresses your head.

You sniffed, tightly hugging him back, wanting to pull him in all you could and end the pain for both of you. You sighed relived.

He caresses your back lovingly, his smile slowly melting away, "Hey... I...uh... hate to do this to you but.... I need to ask for a favor." He was more serious now... no... not serious... it doesn't define his mood correctly. He was already serious... but right now he was more... grave, "I will be a zombot soon..." He whispered.

You nodded instead of voicing your thoughts, you wouldn't be able to get them out anyway, without your voice breaking at least. You don't want his last memories to be you wailing your eyes over him, heartbroken about all this. You want this to be something peaceful for him. Like he said...

His arms tighten around you, tears slipping on to your head, "I never would forgive myself if my zombot form flew to Angel Island and put the mission in danger, I can't risk infecting the others. And we know that zombots are fixed right away by any damage made on them, so it must be done before I... completely turn into one of them..."

Your eyes widen, no, he can't be implaying for you to do that... would he? He don't actually want you to do this to him. You shakily glanced at his warm smile. Your hands are shaking with dread.

"I know it's a lot to ask but... I can trust only you with this..." His voice come like a whisper to your ear as he laid his head back on top of yours.

You swallowed shakily.

"And not just because you are already infected but..."

You slowly slide your hand down on his back, soothingly reaching his cold tails, gently caressing them. You could feel him slightly flinch with the touch but quickly relax afterwas.

"...Unlike everyone else back then, you would never hurt me. So, it's okay." Your tears slipped from your eyes like a waterfall.

"It's going to be okay." He whispered shakily, promising to both of you.

CRACK

You sobbed while he wailed and screamed in pain, he gripped your form in his hold for support, painfull tears slipping from his eyes, as he sobbed and hissed in pain.

"I am sorry. I'm so sorry." You repeated the same words over and over again.

It hurts, it hurts so much. You wanted to scream, cry your heart out. But the only thing you could do was wait for your time to come along with him.

And well... it didn't take long for the metal substance to cover your whole bodies and lose your consciousness.

[heelbucks]

so i have a thought…

christian sharing his bratty babygirl with nick 😳

thank you for helping with this @nickswayne <333

this was fully self indulgent for us btw

minors dni

you had insisted on rewarding your man and his newest follower after the night they had. wrapped in a silk robe and beautiful black and red lingerie, you inch down the bed towards the younger male, his eyes wide. "christian, i-isn't she your princess? i mean i dunno if i can-" "go on nicky, touch her. she's yours tonight." the older man said to his latest project.

"yeah, c'mon nicky..." your voice trailed off as you wiggled down the bed towards the two men, your ass wiggling behind you as you crawled. "lemme show you how good i am.." a deep chuckle emerged from christian's throat. "i doubt you can be good for more than five seconds, but go for it princess."

you rolled your eyes at the dominant male and turned your attention back towards nick, who as hard as he was, was fighting the urge to stare at your wiggling ass. as you reached the edge of the bed, you turned around, sticking the object of his attention in his face. "please nicky, 'm so wet for you." you didn't lie, the lace now sheer with your slick.

the younger man pulled your panties to the side and dove in, eating your cunt like a man starved. his tongue making diligent circles on your clit, eventually adding two fingers to the mix. "oh nick, fuck me." you whined as you clenched around him, threatening to reach your peak when christian pulled his hand away. "daddy, noooo." your voice laced with annoyance while nick looked at him as if he'd done something horribly wrong. "let her cum on your cock, trust me, nothing beats watching her squirt."

as you wiggled out of your now drenched panties, nick pulled his sweats down. you watched his cock spring out, a little smaller than christian's but thicker for sure. "what do you say princess?" your boyfriend reminded you before you slowly shook your ass, and in a sugary sweet tone said "pleaseeeee nickyyy."

he obliged, slowly inserting himself, trying not to hurt you. he felt your walls flutter around him with every inch, finally feeling the tight squeeze as he bottomed out.

his pace was slow, too slow for your liking. "nick, 'm not gonna break if you go harder. i like it a lil' rough." christian laughed again. "a little? princess, remember the time i had you over my knee with my belt?" you giggled remembering the welts that had formed against the delicate skin. "yes daddy, i remember."

nick quickened his pace, the loud sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing throughout the large hotel room. getting annoyed he wasn't taking a hint, christian grabbed one of nick's hands from your hips and placed it in your hair. grabbing it tightly, they pulled back, pulling your head up with them. a loud moan escaped your lips. "she loves that, almost as much as she likes being choked."

finally feeling confident, nick wrapped his hand around your neck and squeezed slightly. "s-spank me... please nicky, wanna see your handprints tomorrow." you choked out. a tighter final squeeze before letting go, his hand came down on your backside swiftly. a proud nod from christian was all he needed to continue. still being awfully quiet, more focused on having you feel good, he continued alternating cheeks, leaving quite a nice amount of handprints. he felt you tighten around him each time.

"oh fuck, nicky, 'm gonna cum. don't stop. pleasee" your voice shifted an octave higher, whining out desperately for him to let you finish. "go on princess, cum for him. introduce him to our little circle."

that was all the permission you needed, going over the edge. your walls tighten around nick as he grabbed your neck, choking you as your release sprayed back on to him. "that's a good girl." he finally spoke up, learning how you and christian spoke to each other. christian patted him on the back, "now you're getting it kid. can't waitt to show you all my princess has to offer."