#i’m filled with rage guys you don’t even understand

[ayumigotabittoolonelyquitted]

Jjk men and their type (my opinion) drabbles

Synopsis: jjk men and their girl types this is basically a drabbles and I m just saying , this isn't canon and they might even date someone completly different from what I said who knows. (In canon course ',;) )

Characters : gojo Satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo ryomen sukuna and nanami kento.

Warning ⚠️: I swear this ain't canon don't get your sweet little heart in pain.

Requests are open!

Looks wise course 😔

CHOSO — goth/emo girls

He definitely has a thing for emo/goth girls. We're talking black eyeliner that could slice a man, chipped black nail polish, oversized band tees, and fishnets. If she listens to old My Chemical Romance or some underground post-hardcore band? He’s done for. He’s giving "silent protector of the spooky girl at the back of the venue" energy.

GOJO — baddies

Gojo likes baddies, period. Glammed up, fashionable, probably the kind of girl who knows how to make an entrance. Hair always done, nails always fresh, lashes fluttering like wings. Think high fashion, a lil mysterious but very visible. Bonus points if she’s taller or wears heels,he likes someone who challenges his ego just a bit.

GETO — beauty that isn't quite describeable

Geto is into quiet, ethereal beauty. Think long, silky hair (any color, as long as it flows), elegant dresses, and those girls who look like they read poetry under candlelight. Soft eyes, maybe a resting sad face. She doesn’t even have to talk much,he’ll fill the silence. Something tragic in her gaze? He’s already in love. (Ayumi ; Hey hey geto's my bitch 😔)

NANAMI — soft, elegant women who give him peace

Nanami likes the clean, classic beauty. Timeless style, minimal makeup, neutral tones. Maybe a bit of librarian-core or soft academia. He’s into grace, posture, the girl who wears a watch and always smells like expensive perfume. She doesn’t need to be loud,he loves subtlety and intelligence in her aura.

SUKUNA — unhinged bad girls who’d burn the world for fun

Sukuna’s taste is feral. He likes the dangerous girls. The ones with piercings, intense eye makeup, something unpredictable in their walk. Maybe she’s got tattoos. Maybe she stares back when he stares. He’s into the kind of girl who might stab him in his sleep and he’d wake up like, “hot.” Think femme fatale, but with rage issues..

Personality wise

Choso kamo

Choso is so emotionally starved it’s insane. He falls for someone gentle, nurturing, but not a pushover. Someone who talks softly but holds space for his grief, who listens without judging. He needs warmth. The type who quietly notices his pain and says, “You don’t have to explain,I’m here.” He’ll be loyal until the end. Bonus if she’s a little quirky or awkward,he finds it endearing.

Gojo Satoru

Gojo acts like he wants a girl who worships him, but in reality? He’s obsessed with the one who doesn’t. The one who teases him, rolls her eyes, and treats him like he’s just some guy (because underneath all that power, he is just some guy). She’s witty, sharp, probably emotionally unavailable,he loves the chase. But if she’s also secretly kind? He’s ruined. He’ll try to make her laugh just to see her smile.

Geto Suguru

Geto is drawn to idealists with a hint of melancholy. He falls for the girl who sees beauty in broken things, who’s poetic, introspective, and quietly passionate about the world,even if she feels like she doesn’t belong in it. She has convictions, but also sadness. He sees her and thinks: “She understands me.” If she loves people even when they hurt her? That’s it. That’s the one. (She is me , me is her 😝)

Nanami Kento

Nanami needs someone stable, but not boring. Someone grounded, emotionally intelligent, kind without being naive. He appreciates responsibility and depth, someone who values calm over chaos. But he also secretly loves someone who brings little sparks of spontaneity into his life,a soft rebellion against his rigid structure. She reminds him it’s okay to rest. That he’s allowed softness, too.

Ryomen Sukuna

Sukuna falls for the one who challenges him. She’s not scared of him,she’s intrigued. Bold, sharp-tongued, unapologetically herself. She doesn’t try to fix him, she meets him in the fire. Maybe even matches his cruelty in her own way. She’s a bit unhinged, a little morally grey. He’s obsessed with her defiance, the way she doesn’t flinch. She might hate him,but he’ll love her for it.

[calliesmemes]

EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”

“   Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”

“   I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”

“   Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”

“   Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”

“   Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”

“   Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”

“   My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”

“   Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”

“   It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”

“   If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”

“   Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”

“   I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”

“   I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”

“   I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”

“   Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”

“   Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”

“   I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”

“   Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”

“   i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”

“   These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”

“   I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”

“   I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”

“   DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”

“   I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”

“   Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”

“   My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”

“   I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”

“   Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”

“   I was born for shock value. ”

“   Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”

“   Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”

“   Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”

“   Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”

“   My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”

“   This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”

“   I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”

“   Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”

“   My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”

“   I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”

“   I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”

“   Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”

“   Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”

“   Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”

“   girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”

“   BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”

“   I just gave your address to some spiders! ”

“   I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”

“   I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”

“   Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”

“   I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”

“   Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”

“   I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”

“   I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”

“   Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”

“   Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”

“   Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”

“   If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”

“   Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”

“   Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”

“   Swag is earned, not learned. ”

“   Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”

“   I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”

“   Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”

“   If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”

“   Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”

“   I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”

“   It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”

“   Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”

“   At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”

“   Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”

“   Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”

“   One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”

“   On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”

“   My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”

“   I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”

“   Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”

“   I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”

“   Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”

“   I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”

“   I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”

“   Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”

“   Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”

“   I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”

“   I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”

“   Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”

“   i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”

[itsnesss]

Hi Ness, can I request something smut with Anthony LaRusso? Maybe it's a bit too much for his age, but it's truly a NEED. If you're not comfortable with it, that's totally understandable!

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 | anthony larusso × fem!reader

summary | after a heated argument, tension between you and anthony ignites into a passionate, breath-stealing moment neither of you can resist

warnings | gf!reader, heated argument, smut, explicit content, fingering, p in v, protected sex, delayed orgasm

word count | 1.8 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The shouting bounced off the walls of his room, filled with frustration and bottled-up emotions.

"You always do this, Anthony!" you exclaimed, fists clenched.

"What? Defend myself? Because it seems like every time I say something you don’t like, I’m the bad guy."

His defiant tone only fueled the fire inside you. The argument had started over something insignificant, but now it was a whirlwind of unrestrained emotions. His blue eyes pierced into you with intensity, his jaw tight, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

"It’s not about defending yourself, it’s about the fact that you never admit when you’re wrong," you accused, crossing your arms.

Anthony let out an incredulous laugh.

"Oh, really? And what about you? You always think you’re right about everything."

He took a step closer. You didn’t back down.

"Because in this case, I am."

The air between you was charged, a mix of anger and unspoken desire that neither of you wanted to acknowledge. Anthony took a deep breath, his hands trembling—whether from rage or something else, you weren’t sure.

"You’re impossible," he whispered, his voice deeper.

"And you’re an idiot," you shot back without thinking.

Then, the spark ignited the fire.

In one swift movement, Anthony had you pressed against the wall, his body flush against yours. His warm breath fanned across your face, and for a second, you thought he was going to keep arguing. But his eyes flickered down to your lips.

"Say it again," he challenged, his voice husky.

Your heart pounded, but you weren’t going to let him win that easily.

"You’re an idiot."

Anthony smirked arrogantly before closing the distance in a heartbeat. His lips crashed onto yours in a desperate, heated kiss, filled with everything words couldn’t express. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you even closer as he kissed you with a hunger that left you breathless.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging with the same frustration that had filled your voice moments ago. Anthony let out a low groan against your mouth before trailing kisses down your jaw, moving lower to your neck.

"Tell me you’re still mad," he murmured against your skin.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your legs felt weak as his hands roamed your body with the same urgency as the argument you’d had minutes before.

Desire mixed with anger in an explosive whirlwind that made you dig your fingers into his shirt.

Anthony kissed you again, deepening the kiss, and you didn't take long to let out a sigh.

"I have a better idea," he said, pulling away just a little.

"Which one?" you gasped.

She smiled. Her hands explored your chest before moving down to your skirt. He removed your underwear, sliding his fingers down your legs to return to your vagina. You clung to his shoulders with a gasp when he touched you, the anger turning into need.

"Come here," you murmured, but Anthony refused to give you more. His fingers played with you, pressing, caressing, without following the rhythm you wanted.

"Anthony…" you growled between your teeth.

He kissed you again before pulling away to look at you with a wicked smile.

"Now," she said in a tiny voice, "you won't get away with it."

You pushed him onto his bed, taking off his shirt and pants, until the only thing left between you was his underwear and your silk skirt. You looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"And what if I don't want to?" you whispered, because you knew you could drive him crazy without even touching him.

Anthony's smile grew when he took off his underwear. His erect penis, and the way he looked at you as he approached, made you feel naked.

"But you want him," he assured before pinning you against his pillow. You let him do it because you wanted him to. You wanted him to fuck you hard and fast, to make you feel all the emotions that had mixed in the air between you.

Anthony kissed your neck, playing with your body as he had played with your emotions before. His fingers found your nipples under your blouse, pressing them with the skill of an experienced lover. Your breath was interrupted by a whisper of pleasure.

"Do you like it this way?" he asked, his voice like a low blow.

You nodded, but it wasn't enough. Anthony began to slide your nipples between his fingers, pressing them gently, and then more firmly until you started to gasp his name.

"Yes," you grunted.

He slid over you, his erect penis pressing against your entrance.

"So…" he kissed the lobe of your ear, sinking it into your skin—… tell me what you told me a little while ago.

You refused to do it.

"I won't say anything," you grumbled, without moving away from him.

Anthony was laughing as he pushed your skirt up, sliding it towards your hips. His gaze was like a warm touch, the way he caressed your buttocks, so soft and slow that you couldn't take it anymore.

"I guess I'll have to force you to do it," he murmured.

He slid his fingers over your buttocks before gripping them firmly. His penis continued pressing against your entrance, but he hadn't fucked you yet. You needed it as much as you needed him. You needed him like you had never needed him before.

"Kiss me," you asked, looking him in the eyes.

Anthony accepted your request without any problems, kissing you passionately, not stopping to caress your buttocks while he did. Then he took out the condom he had pulled from his nightstand. You put it on yourself, sliding it over his erect penis. Anthony nodded with a grunt when you finished.

"Now tell me..." he murmured as he settled over you. He pressed his penis against your legs, but it didn't enter. You caressed it, but he didn't move—. What did you just say to me?

Rage hit you again, mingling with the desire that burned inside you. You clung to his shoulders with rage, and Anthony began to move his hips slowly, caressing your entrance with his penis.

"No" you growled. "I won't say a word".

Anthony smiled, his eyes shining with a lascivious desire that made you want more of him, more than you had ever felt before. He paused for a moment to look at you before kissing your mouth softly. His hips moved again, and this time he pushed a little deeper into you. You groaned against his mouth, trying to make him move faster.

"Come on, no…" you grunted with a breathless voice.

Anthony changed tactics. He slid his hand between your legs before finding your clitoris with his fingers. He caressed it gently while moving his hips in sync. Your breath was cut short by a sigh of pleasure, but it had a negative effect. Anthony stopped his fingers before fully entering you.

"No". And he kissed you, savoring your mouth slowly. Then he kissed your jaw and your neck with the same slowness and tenderness. "No, no, no" He let out a whisper as he began to move inside you. If you want me to continue, you'll have to say it.

"Damn," you growled while looking him in the eyes. You're an idiot, Anthony.

He smiled, but his eyes darkened with something you couldn't name.

"I know," he murmured before fucking you with an intensity and rhythm that left you breathless. You felt it all in each of his thrusts, the desire, the anger, the frustration. And you didn't know what else. But you could also feel yourself, the emotions swirling in the air between them, a whirlwind that could only be carried by one thing.

Anthony fucked you with fury, his breath ragged as he took you with desire. You felt his penis inside you, but you also felt that he needed you desperately, that he was as lost in his rage as you were in yours. So you clung to him, to his shoulders and his arms, to his back and his buttocks. You moved with him, your bodies fused into one, making love with a passion that took your breath away.

"Damn..." you growled. Anthony moved faster, harder, his fingers getting tangled in your hair as he fucked you. Then you felt his mouth on your right nipple, caressing it with his tongue before pressing it between his teeth. You gasped his name as you came. But you didn't let it go. Not when you felt his fingers gripping your hips, when you noticed he was coming.

"Hey" you growled against his ear when he moved over you, about to pull out of you. "Don't go".

Anthony gasped with a brief laugh before kissing your neck.

"Okay," he whispered. And he stayed inside you until you both caught your breath. Then he moved again, but this time slowly and gently, as if he were fucking you for the last time. You let him do it while he softly kissed your jaw.

When he pulled out of you, you whispered his name with a sigh and drew him to you. Anthony was laughing, his warm breath brushing against your neck. Then he slid his finger along your lower lip before kissing you softly.

"I love you," he said as he took off your blouse.

"And I to you" you whispered. Then, Anthony fucked you again, but this time it was different. There was no anger in his movements, only a passion and desire he had never felt before.

You fucked him with the same passion, your legs wrapping around his waist as he moved inside you. He kissed you again and again, his breath ragged as he came. You did it too, his fingers caressing your back gently before you clung to him tightly.

"You are mine" you whispered in his ear.

"I am," assured Anthony, his voice as soft as his kiss on your shoulder. Then, he hugged you tightly, his arms wrapping around your body as he fell asleep on you, surrounded by the passion and desire you had created. He kissed you one last time before falling asleep on you, surrounded by the warmth of your body.

[diorctrl]

FAVOURITE SECRET PT 2 nishimura riki x reader

𓂂 ˳ older sister’s best friend riki, fluff warnings: intentional lower case, swearing , angst, hurt comfort

pt 1

there’s a lump in your throat as you stare at your older sister, she stares at you and the boy on the floor in shock, a mixture of confusion, anger and betrayal, written on her face.

she opens her mouth, then closes it. she opens her mouth again, “get.out.” she whispers quietly, her gaze solely focused on the boy on the floor.

riki sits up slowly looking at minji with confusion, “me ?”

her gazed sharpens, “yes, you !” she grabs his arm lifting him up from the floor and pushing the boy out your room. “you know where the door is.”

you stare at your sisters rage in shock, you most definitely knew that she would be mad about you and riki but never like this, you thought that she would just give you guys some type of lecture,“minj-”

“shut up yn.” she turns to you sharply, you flinch when was walks closer to you, “my best friend really?” her voice is filled with anger and sadness.

you sit still not really knowing what to say, it’s not your fault that you like him.

you hang your head low as her stare burns into you, you feel your tears burning at the back of your eyes, you don’t think you’ve ever seen her this angry.

“oh look, she’s gonna cry like she always does .”she narrows her eyes at you “like the baby she is.” she says laughing sarcastically, “I should be the one crying.”

your face scrunches up, “I’m not crying.” you say with a tearful tone, your voice cracking, your throat is burning, it always hurts when you try to stop yourself from crying. “I don’t even understand why you’re so mad.” you say bitterly. “ it’s not that big of a deal.”

minji’s body tenses, she shakes her head at you disgustingly, “obviously you would say that.” she steps back from you slightly. “you don’t get it do you ? why can’t I just have one thing for myself.”

she walks back and forth in front of you. “gosh, you’re so insufferable yn, you just suck everything out of everyone and you don’t even realize.”

a tear drops form you eye, you don’t know where this is all coming from, why is she so mad ? did she always feel that way about you ?

“and I had one thing, one thing! to myself and you take him away from me, you took my escape from me yn.” she says raising her voice slightly. “my escape from you, my escape from having to deal with the favouritism that everyone has with you, because I was his favourite.” she runs her hands through her hair, “and I knew he was acting weird these past couple months.” she whispers to herself.

“minji I don’t understand.” you say quietly. “how do I have favouritism ? you’re the scholar, you’re the one with your tests on fridge, you’re the one with the grades, you’re the one with a feature.” you say harshly, “I’m the disappointment.”

“yeah, you are.” she says just as harshly, “but you’re also the one with loads of friends, the one that gets the jokes, the hugs and the “at least you’re doing your best honey” , you’re the one that everyone is drawn too because of your free attitude, when I have to be the perfect poster child.” she walks closer to you again. “you’re like a black whole yn.”

“I finally had someone who saw me, who saw that I was just more than what people see me , and you sucked him in like you do too everyone else.”

both anger and hurt filled you, why is she being like this? did she always feel these things towards you ?

you impulsively say something.

“you’re acting like he’s your boyfriend or something.”

“he was going to be!” she yells, you jump back at her loud voice bouncing off the walls of your room. “he was going to be.” she repeats but quietly this time. “you don’t understand yn.”

“you will never understand, the feelings that I have towards him.”

her eyes widened in shock at the words that come out of your sister mouth, she loves riki.

you look down at your room floor, taking notice that one of his rings are on your carpet.

you look at your sister, you see tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “I think you should leave.” you whisper. “please get out of my room.”

she wipes her eyes quickly letting out a shaky breath as she walks out of your room not saying a word.

how did things go bad so quickly?

you sit on your bed staring at the ring on your floor then at the rain that hits your window and without thinking you grab of one your sweaters and you put on your running shoes.

you open your window and you climb down the ladder outside your window.

your stomach turn’s slightly as you hit the ground, you make sure that the ring is securely in your pocket, and make a run for it.

your breath slightly going out as you run, the rain hitting your body and the breeze running through you until you make it to your destination.

you take notice of the car in the driveway meaning his parents are home so you make your way to the side of the house where his bed room window is.

you find yourself self climbing the ladder that he leaves out for you when you used to sneak to his house.

you look through his window to see the boy laying in his bed, you softly knock on his window and you see him jump when he notices you rushing towards his window.

he opens his window pulling you in right away.

“holy shit yn, you’re soaking.” he say’s putting his arms around you pulling you further into his room.

“I think you have some clothes here you can go change in my washroom.” he says nonchalantly, like you guys didn’t get caught by your older sister like two hours ago.

after you change (making sure to put his ring in your new pocket) you come back into his main room and sit on his bed. “this is bad riki.”

“what?” he asks as he lays on his back staring up at his ceiling.

“minji riki. minji.” you say frustrated. “she’s mad like really mad.”

“you know minji, she’s like that.” he says without a care in a world, pulling you closer towards him.

“no, this is different, she said-” how do you tell him that his best friend is in-love with him.

“ah, I don’t wanna know what she said.” he says pulling you to lay in his chest. “that’s between you two.”

“but riki-”

he sits up completely, lifting up his comforter, “let’s talk about this later.”

“but riki” you say looking at him slightly concerned about his reaction.

“no, I’m tired and I just wanna lay with the person I love.” he says pulling you under the comforter.

your phone vibrates on his night table and you see a text from minji.

at his house I’m guessing?

and too think I came to your room to talk with you and apologize

you go still completely at the messages, you don’t know what to do.

you turn off your phone when riki puts his face into your neck, “riki ?”

he hums at you in response, “I think it’s best if we end our relationship.” you feel him tense in your hold. “it’s hurting minji.”

he doesn’t take his face form your neck, “minji will be minji yn, she’ll get over this in like a day.” he says tiredly.

you let out a deep sign, “this is different, she told me things really harsh things and some shocking things too…” you trail off wondering if you should tell him. “please don’t make this hard.”

he tightened his hold on you and let’s out a sigh, “let’s just talk about this after we take a nap, yeah ?”

“riki.”

but he doesn’t doesn’t respond and then you hear his light snoring, how does he fall asleep so fast ? and why is he being so nonchalant about this ?

you try your best to stop yourself from falling asleep, knowing when you wake up you’re gonna have to break up with the person that you love, but if you want to fix your relationship with your sister then that’s just not hat you’re gonna have to do.

sleep over takes you and all the stress releases from your body and you let your dreams over fill your mind.

music fills your ears and the sun from your bedroom window practically blinds you wait my bedroom window ?

you feel a weight on your chest and you look down to see riki sleeping, um ?

“riki, wake up.” you tug on the boys hair, the hums sleepily slowly rising form you, “what ?”

“what’s going on ?” he looks at you confused, before putting his head in the crook of your neck, “what are you talking.” he mumbles.

“i’m-”

your door opens, "yn I wanna get snacks wanna com- ?”

you and riki separated form each other quickly, you hitting your head on your head board and him falling off your bed with a big thud.

"ow !" you both say as minji looks at the two of you shock.

"what the fuck ?"

✰ AHAHAHHA

taglist @hikyeom @rizzyl @doublasting @heartsforhyunjin

[oizysian]

Secrets | Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanoff

Requested by @sashawalker2

Summary: How do Wanda and Natasha react to finding out Y/N was a victim of Hydra?

Word count: 1.2k

•

“When were you going to tell us you were experimented on by Hydra?”

“I don’t know, Wanda. There never seemed to be a right time.”

“Would’ve been nice if we had known before going to bed with you.”

“What’s the difference, Nat?”

“It’s like we slept with a stranger. We don’t even know you anymore.”

I blinked at them, pushing the tears back as the two women that meant everything to me looked at me as if I was a total stranger.

“I’m still the same person.”

“You’re not.” Nat insisted. “You lied to us.”

“I didn’t lie! I just … neglected to mention it.”

“What else did you neglect to mention?”

“I may have forgotten to tell you guys that I maybe have … some powers.”

Nat all but rolled her eyes and Wanda just continued to stare at me.

“What powers?”

“Not many!”

“What powers, Y/N?” Nat had clearly lost her patience.

“I’m strong and I can heal, okay?” I was ashamed of my past, of my powers, and being forced to out myself in front of my girlfriends was embarrassing.

“How strong?”

“I can hold my own against any of you.”

“Not without proper training.” Nat mumbled and I glared at her.

“Try me.”

“Okay, okay,” Wanda finally spoke, getting in between us before we started fighting right in front of her. “Y/N,” her voice was soft. “Why didn’t you just … tell us?”

“I was scared, okay? I was scared and ashamed.” I turned away from both women, my hands shaking with rage. “I hate what happened to me. I hate what they made me. I pushed down all my strength and all my abilities so I could just be normal.”

I turned back towards them, tears threatening to fall as I pleaded to them with my eyes.

“Is it such a crime to have wanted to put all that pain and torture behind me and just … pretend?”

Nat swallowed roughly as she listened to my words.

“You could’ve told us.”

“I couldn’t.” My voice broke. “I worked so hard to put all of that behind me. Telling you would’ve undone everything I did to be the person I am today.”

“But we told you who we were. That wasn’t fair of you, Y/N.”

“I know,” I turned to Wanda, hoping that at least she would understand me. “And I’m sorry. I just didn’t want either of you to think that I was some Hydra agent undercover or something.”

“And what if we do?”

“Do you?” I directed the question at Natasha, but then turned my attention to Wanda. “Do both of you really think I’m a Hydra agent? After everything I told you? After all we’ve been through?” I yelled, my chest heaving and my tears finally falling.

Wanda’s eyes shifted to the ground, but Nat continued to stare straight at me.

“Wouldn’t I have killed both of you already? Maybe while I was fucking you so hard you were screaming my name -”

Natasha’s fist collided with my face before I even had the chance to react. I barely flinched at the blow, even though she had used all her strength and channeled her anger into the hit. I sighed, knowing full well that I deserved it for how I spoke, but disappointed that she resorted to violence.

“Natasha!” Wanda cried, but I raised my hand up toward her, telling her it was okay.

“I deserved that.” I breathed, watching as the realization finally crossed her features that I had taken a hit from her and didn’t even take a step back. “I shouldn’t have brought that up, I’m sorry.”

“Y/N,” Wanda said my name softly, slowly approaching me. “I don’t think you’re with Hydra. I don’t think you have an evil bone in your body.” She took my face in her hands and looked deeply into my eyes. “You need to be honest with us from now on. No more secrets.”

I nodded, my eyes filling with tears once again at the softness of her voice. I thought she would’ve been angrier than Nat, but I guess she understood my desire to put it behind me to an extent.

“No more secrets. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. It’s okay.”

Nat stood back and wordlessly watched us, still as the dead while Wanda comforted me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me to her, hugging me, and I watched Nat from over her shoulder. Her face was unreadable, blank, but I knew her well enough to know that she was mulling over everything that happened.

“They took me as a child,” I began, looking Nat directly in the eye. “I was tortured for years, injected with god knows what until I was finally able to escape.” I swallowed roughly, blinking away tears. “I can’t tell you how many of my bones were broken, how much of my body was destroyed just for it to repair itself within minutes and for the torture to start all over again because of it.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to …"

“I want to.” I gave Wanda a slight squeeze, letting her know it was okay, and continued. “I wasn’t the end goal. I was just a guinea pig. They were just going to use me until I finally died.” I scoffed. “Unfortunately for me, they made it almost impossible for me to die from anything other than natural causes.”

I sniffled softly and I felt Wanda’s arms tighten around me in support.

“I can’t even kill myself.”

“Y/N, don’t.” Wanda spoke against my neck and I could feel her own hot tears against my skin. “Don’t say that.”

“I tried.” I grabbed onto her, burying my face in the crook of her neck. “I tried to kill myself so many times, but I always wake up. I always wake up.”

I could sense Nat approach before I felt her arms around the both of us. Wanda was full on crying at this point and I was doing my best to hold and comfort her. As Nat embraced us both, and I could’ve sworn that I heard her crying too.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

I looked up at her, her eyes shining with tears. I leaned toward her and pressed my lips to hers and she responded in full, kissing me back while we held Wanda.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered against my lips and I shook my head.

“Don’t apologize. I was the one who was wrong.”

��I was an idiot. I … hit you.”

“Which I deserved.”

“No, you didn’t. I lost myself.”

“It’s alright. I’m fine, see? Not even a scratch.” I tried to make light of it to try and make her feel better.

I knew it happened in a moment of passion and I truly did deserve it. I had deserved everything that happened to me. I knew that.

Before I could voice another thought, Wanda lifted her head up and kissed me, her lips trembling.

“I’m - I’m fine.” I breathed softly, her green eyes searching mine. “I’m fine, Wands. I promise.”

“I don’t want anything to come between us ever again.” Wanda’s voice was small and she sniffled softly.

“Nothing will. Ever. You two mean so much to me. More than you’ll ever know.”

[patchs-curiosity-corner]

𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝑴𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒀𝒐𝒖 | 𝑺.𝑹. [𝟐]

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟕 - 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒚

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: With the sudden departure of the BAU’s former Unit Chief, their newest member worries about how it could be effecting Spencer.

𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: angst, hurt/comfort, slight arguing, themes of drug addiction and self harm, Spencer and Reader being insecure.

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 1.1k

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: Guys I’m so sorry this took forever and it’s like half the length of the other one Ť-Ť I’ve had some stuff going on irl and have just been wiped lately. Chances are the remaining parts will come out rather sporadically but I will try to supplement them with oneshots so my requests are still open. Thanks for being patient!

𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

Gideon is gone. You don’t know what to feel.

Confusion?

He didn’t tell anyone where he was going.

Grief, understanding?

He left a note at his cabin.

Confusion again.

…

It’s for Spencer.

…

Anger. You’re angry. No -you’re beyond angry- you’re absolutely fucking furious. The feeling burned and clawed incessantly at your gut as you tried to pour the nervous energy into solving the team’s current case. 

It doesn’t help much, and the raging pit in your stomach devours any remaining sympathy you held for Gideon. He had been through a lot, but he knew Spencer was fragile, he knew the genius was barely holding himself together as it was.

It was selfish -in your eyes- for Gideon to choose Spencer of all people, to use him as his vessel to air his final words before running away. Yes, that was it, he was running away.

Coward.

———

You’re pacing, you have been for hours now, almost certainly wearing a path into the ornate burgundy carpet beneath your feet. That thought is what finally gives you pause, you’d been staying with Spencer for nearly a month now, but you were still a guest in his home. It would be impolite to ruin his carpet.

Spencer went to bed hours ago now. You say went to bed and not went to sleep because you can still hear him, tossing and turning. He would assure you everything was fine, he’s coping, he’d say.

You don’t believe him.

A month. He was a month sober and now this was happening. It was enough to break even the strongest man’s composure, you were more afraid of him picking up a different vice at this point. The thought of him falling to something like alcoholism or recreational drugs again made something twist inside you.

How quickly had he wormed his way in? Snuck into your heart and settled into a place you can no longer remember ever being empty?

You sink into the couch cushions with a sigh, before inevitably getting up again moments later, restless.

———

Spencer isn’t faring much better, unable to relax while he listens to the ambient sound of you shuffling around outside his bedroom door. It’s comforting, in a way. It reminds him you’re there, that you hadn’t abandoned him like Gideon, or his Father.

Your knuckles make contact with his door a few minutes later, and it fills him with an odd sense of tentative excitement.

“Come in.” Spencer answers, fighting to keep his voice from revealing the quiet desperation he felt.

“Hey.” It’s your voice, soft and oh-so wonderfully familiar in this moment. “You mind if I join you?” He nods in the dark, reveling in the warmth that spreads from his heart across his chest at how caring you sounded.

He moves over, giving you room to clamber under the forest green covers next to him.

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer asks quietly, rolling onto his side to face you. His eyes are focused on yours, the way they seem to be trying to memorize his face.

“You.” The response is simple, eloquent, and sends the heat in his chest flaring up to his cheeks.

“Me?” He croaks after a moment, blinking quickly in an attempt to calm himself. “Why me?”

“‘m worried about you, Spence.” You murmur, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you look at him. “With Gideon gone, I just-” The heat in his cheeks increases as your hand moves to seek out his. “I want you to know I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

———

“You promise?” Spencer whispers back, the expression on his face looking almost pleading. The expression breaks your heart, how long has he been so alone? Months? Years? His whole life maybe?

They had started off rocky sure, but to imagine seeing Spencer Reid as anything but extraordinary had never crossed your mind. Could other people really not see it? Choose to shun him for his idiosyncrasies instead? The idea felt… foreign.

“Yeah,” your voice slips out much quieter than intended, softened from the waves of emotion washing over you as you scoot closer to him. He already seems to be dozing off. “Yeah I promise.”

The two of you sleep better than night than you had in a while, and an innocuous seeming promise becomes something more as time passes and you continue to stay with him.

Another month and one of you -neither could remember who- mentioned that an apartment shared between people would be much easier to manage, especially with their jobs schedule. And less than one more finds you moving your belongings into the previously spare room in his place. Your place, now, rather. A shared space.

———

Spencer grows accustomed to it as well; your toothbrush in the bathroom, your products in the shower, the faint smell of you a constant now amidst the scent of old books and pine his apartment generally smelled like.

It feels… homey, in a way the place had never seemed before. He’s sure there’s a thousand studies about cohabitation among humans, and he could list statistics about it until his throat grew sore, but for once it doesn’t seem to matter. Reid is simply content to accept your present as it is; a gift.

The pair of you fall into routine with shocking ease -granted you had already been staying in the apartment for nearly two months by now- and soon enough it’s as though you had always been there. It’s comforting to Spencer, to go to sleep every night with the knowledge of someone on the other side of the wall. He’s still afraid you’ll leave, he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop being afraid of that, but for now? God, he’s just happy you’re here, that you chose to be here.

———

You find him one night, curled up on the couch with tears in his eyes while he clutches the letter Gideon had left before disappearing. You sit with him, and you offer gentle solace from the crushing loneliness he’d carried around for so long.

“It’s his loss, really.” You mumble into his hair, holding Spencer’s trembling body against your own gently. “You’re already such an amazing person -and profiler- if he doesn’t wanna stick around and see you get even better? He’s the one missing out.”

It’s a pathetic attempt at comfort, you think, but it draws a soft huff from his chest that somewhat resembles a laugh. You count that as a win. Anything that might help clear his every-wandering mind of the negative spiral practically visible in his eyes. So you just hold him, arms around his shoulders and face buried in his hair, because for now? This was the best the two of you could do, and that was just fine.

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter eight

Summary: Confessions.

Warning: Mentions of John Walker. Mentions of Cheating.

Word Count: 1848

Spotify Playlist | Tips

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I can't wait for the John Walker parts to be over. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @thetorturedbuckydepartment

Two weeks had passed since John’s disappearance, and the news reports were all the same, no new leads or theories, it became tedious. Yet, there was a cloud of suspicion lingering over you and The Avengers, simply because the others were known as the ‘tough’ guys in the city, they were associated with trouble whether deservedly or not. 

As you settled into your usual seat in the bar, the dim lighting cast shadows that danced across the wooden table, and a warm sense of familiarity washed over you. Your friend's laughter filled the air as you caught up with each other and your lives. 

However, the moment of tranquility was shattered as the door swung open, and in strode a woman, a mask of rage and desperation over her features. You noticed her as she scanned the room, her eyes locked on your booth, a shiver sent down your spine as you retreated your gaze over to Bucky. 

“Where is he?” she demanded, her voice sharp as she pointed an accusatory finger toward the group, mainly aimed at Steve. “I know you lot had something to do with it.” A tense silence fell over the bar, you exchanged wary glances with your friends. You knew who she was, her face had been plastered all over the news the last two weeks. 

Steve was the first of you to respond, with a calm but firm voice. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I think you have the wrong people,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed, her fists were clenched at her sides. “Don’t play dumb with me,” she spat, her voice began to tremble. “You’ve always been into trouble, you can’t expect me to believe any of you are innocent.” 

Natasha rose from her place in the booth, her demeanor was composed but unwavering. “We understand that you’re worried, but we genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about,” her voice was steady.

Sam nodded in agreement, “We may have a reputation, but this wasn’t us.” he tried to explain without letting his frustration get the better of him.

You couldn’t shake the unease that ate at you. You knew the truth - John had cheated on this woman with you. Even though you knew you hadn’t slept with him, the guilt of even going on dates with him and kissing him, bubbled up inside you. Your gaze flickered nervously to the floor as you tried to keep your composure. 

Her gaze flickered between each one of you, rage and frustration taking over her features. “I won’t rest until I find out what happened to him,” she vowed, determination thickened in her voice as her gaze landed on you. Staying there for a moment longer than they all liked. 

Bucky stood, his presence snapping her out of the haze that set her focus on you. “We understand you’re in pain, but coming here to accuse us… won’t bring him back,” he said, his voice calm. 

With a final glare, toward you, she turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving a tense silence behind her. The bar remained quiet for a moment before the chatter resumed. As you and your friends got comfortable in your booth again, the weight of the accusation and your own guilt pressed down heavily on your mind.

~

The accusation from John’s wife cast a shadow over your gathering, causing the rest of the evening at the bar to become a stark contrast to the usual atmosphere. Although everyone tried to return to their conversation and laughter, the tension was undeniable. 

Ever perceptive, Bucky, noticed the worry that clouded your features. He stayed quiet as the night wore on, it wasn’t until the other became engrossed in a conversation that he leaned in closer to you. “Hey,” he said softly, searching your gaze. “You okay?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just a lot on my mind,” you replied, trying to sound upbeat and casual. He wasn’t convinced, he knew you too well. He noticed the slight tremble of your voice and the glossy coat over your eyes. 

“You sure?” he pressed, “You seem more shaken than usual.”

Sighing, you remembered you couldn’t hide your feelings from him. “It’s just… the whole John situation,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t shake the guilt, Bucky. What if someone found out about us?” 

His expression softened as his hand reached under the table, resting his hand against your thigh, his thumb brushing against your bare skin. “Hey, listen to me,” he said firmly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. He was the one who was married, not you. And, you had no idea about his wife, right?” 

You shook your head, confirming his suspicion. “It’s just hard not to feel responsible,” you murmured, glancing around to make sure your other friends weren’t listening. 

As Bucky began to respond, Steve interrupted. “Alright, I think it’s time to call it a night,” he announced, standing from his chair at the head of the booth, stretching out his back. Everyone murmured in agreement, and soon you dispersed. Each other your friends heading their separate ways. Expect Bucky, as always, he lingered behind, waiting for you as you gathered your things. 

“Want a ride home?” the concern was evident in his voice.

You nodded without hesitation, you loved the feeling of the cool night air against your skin, it helped clear your mind. 

~

As you reached your apartment, you turned to Bucky. He smiled warmly before pulling you into a comforting hug. “You know I’m always here for you,” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. 

With a final squeeze, he let you go as he watched you enter your apartment. He waited until he heard the click of the door lock before making his way out of the building. 

Once inside, you leaned against the door. Everything from the evening replayed in your mind. You knew you had to try and find a way to move past this, but that was easier said than done. 

~

The next few days at work are blurred from the routine tasks and your colleague's hushed whispers. You tried to remain focused on your job, yet the memory of John’s wife’s confrontation lingered. The office gossip showed no signs of dying down and the sense of dread consumed you every time you heard his name. 

One afternoon, as you were packing up for an early finish, your phone buzzed.

Bucky ❤️‍🩹: Bar? Could use some company… 

You smiled at his timing, grateful for the attached photo showing both his beer bottle and a cherry cold waiting in front of your usual seat. You send a quick reply, packing up the last of your things and heading to the bar.

~

The bar was a lot less crowded than it usually is when you arrive. You stopped Bucky already waiting at your booth with the pictured bottle still waiting in front of him. He greeted you with a smile as you slid into the seat opposite him. 

“How was your day?” he asked, handing you a straw.

“Same as always,” you replied with a shrug, placing your straw in your cola before taking a sip. “Just trying to keep my head down.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah, it’s been tough with all these rumors flying around.” 

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “I just want it to be over,” you admitted. “I can’t keep worrying about someone finding out.” 

His eyes softened with sympathy. “Look, whatever happened, we’ll deal with it,” he assured you. “Anyway, it’s not like you slept with him…” 

It took you a moment to think about his choice of words, you couldn’t recall ever telling him you hadn't slept with John or not. Shaking your head, the thought left your mind. Of course, Bucky knew you never slept with John, no one in this friend group can keep anything to themselves. 

Just as you were about to change the subject, the door swung open, and again, in walked John’s wife. Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on you. Marching straight over, her expression was a mixture of determination and desperation. 

“You,” she said, pointing a finger in your direction. “We need to talk.” 

The bar fell silent, and everyone’s eyes turned to you. A sinking feeling settled in your stomach as you met her gaze, knowing there was nowhere to run. 

Immediately standing up, Bucky positioned himself protectively in front of you. “Look, lady. We’ve already told you,” his tone was firm but calm. “We don’t know anything,”

Her eyes flicked to Bucky, then back at you. “She does,” she said, her voice trembling. “I need answers, now. John was last seen with people like… “She looked Bucky up and down before continuing. “... you. And, now he’s gone.” 

You took a deep breath and began to fidget with the sleeves of your cardigan, trying to steady your nerves. “He wasn’t honest with you,” you began, your voice trembling. Bucky looked at you, his expression unreadable. Turning back to John’s wife, you noticed a mix of hope and fear in her eyes as she looked back at you. “I, I didn’t know he was married. I only found out after he disappeared. He… we were dating.” 

Her eyes widened, her face draining of color. “What?” she whispered, taking a step back. “You’re saying…?”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat as your eyes began to well. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea. If I had known, I never would have agreed to go with him.” 

For a moment, she started at you, her emotions were conflicting on her face. Then, she looked down, her shoulders slumping as the reality of your words sank in. “I knew he was hiding someone,” she said softly, mostly to herself. “That doesn’t explain why he started coming home with his face black and blue…” she trailed off. 

You noticed Bucky subtly move his hands to his pockets, concealing the marks on his knuckles that seemed like a permanent feature.

“I promise you, we had nothing to do with his disappearance,” you said, your voice shaking as the tears began to spill. “But, you deserved the truth about him.” You felt a pang of guilt knowing the pain that your words had caused. 

Her eyes filled with tears as she looked back at you, “Thank you, I needed to hear it, even if it hurts,” 

With a final moment in silence, she turned and left the bar. She left you and Bucky standing there, the weight of your confession hung heavy in the air. 

Bucky turned to you, his eyes full of empathy as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You did the right thing,” he said softly, pulling you into a tight hug.

The ambient noise of the bar returned as the conversation resumed around you. Sitting back down in the booth, the feeling of your confession set heavy on your shoulders. Despite Bucky’s reassurance, you still felt a sense of doubt.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[that-sudsy]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem Reader

Warnings ⚠️: None, maybe grammatical and spelling errors 😅

Authors Note: hey Sudsy here! I wrote this fic based on the song "Hard to Love by Lee Brice" I'll link the song down below. Hope you guys like it and let me know if you guys have a request.

Hard To Love

Simon Riley, known to most as "Ghost," had always struggled with trust. His mantra, "the people you love can hurt you the most," shaped his interactions and made relationships complicated. He had grown accustomed to solitude, and working alone became his signature.

Once you get used to being alone, it becomes an addiction. Yet, there were moments when Simon would catch glimpses of others—friends and partners laughing over a barbecue, sharing stories, and enjoying each other's company. He would be lying if he said he didn’t yearn for that connection sometimes. Shaking his head, he would look away, he couldn't let anyone hurt him again because he trusted someone....even family could betray you and it hurts but it also makes you stronger, muttering to himself, "Let’s get back to work," before diving back into his tasks.

Then one day, everything changed when he met you. From the start, there was an undeniable tension between you two, thick enough to slice with a knife. You were a light in his shadowy world, your bubbly aura shining even in the most serious situations for a person in this kind of work field. It was obvious you loved your job,When the medics hesitated to approach him, intimidated by his fierce demeanor, you stepped forward without a second thought.

No matter how many times he threatened to push you away or sent you off, you always found your way back to him. He would make insensitive comments, testing your patience, but you would respond with a hopeful smile, reminding him that there was still light in the darkness. When he pretended to be busy, you would leave a cup of coffee on his desk, a small gesture that made him feel guilty yet endeared him to you even more.

You both shared a penchant for drinking, and there were nights when you found yourselves slumped on the couch, nursing terrible hangovers. Simon was a short fuse, a wrecking ball crashing into the walls he had built around his heart. But you could read him like an open book, the only one who could talk sense into him during his fits of rage without raising your voice or getting striked on the face.

You were his soft spot, the one person who saw through the tough exterior to the man beneath.

"I can be insensitive," he would admit, his voice low and rough. "I have a tendency to focus on what I need, and sometimes I drink too much. I don’t know why you stay with me." He said bring up the topic as you two talked under the moonlight as you both took the first watch during a mission.

You would smile softly, your eyes filled with understanding. "Because I see you, Simon. The real you. And I know you’re worth it."

He would shake his head, a mix of frustration and admiration swirling within him. "I’m hard to love, you know. I don’t make it easy."

"But I love you anyway," you would reply, your voice steady and sincere. "You don’t have to be perfect for me to care."

Simon often felt like a wrecking ball, crashing into your heart, leaving chaos in his wake. Yet, you were like a Sunday morning—full of grace and warmth, a reminder of everything he wished he could be.

"You’ve given me a million second chances," he would say, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I don’t want to take you for granted."

He knew he was hard to love, but your unwavering support made him believe he could be better. "I don’t deserve it, I'm not a good man and you can see that..." he would confess, "but I love that you love me good."

In those moments, Simon realized that maybe, just maybe, he could learn to let someone in. And as he looked at you, he felt a flicker of hope—a chance to be more than just a ghost in the shadows.

Borders by @saradika-graphics 🍅 Disclaimer: I want to express my heartfelt gratitude for your support! Please note that I do not own any of the characters or images featured in this work, nor do I claim any rights to them.

© 2025 that-sudsy. Your creativity means the world to me! I kindly ask that you refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, or translating my work in any form. Thank you for your understanding 

[mykoreanlove]

backseat love.

You lay in the back of his red mustang.

His beloved car was parked in a secluded stop near the beach.

It was a warm summer night in late August.

The sky was clear, the air was crisp.

The moon illuminated your beautiful features effortlessly.

You closed your eyes.

Jackson’s musky scent clouded your mind completely.

You felt his plush lips exploring your neck.

His kisses were sweet, restrained even.

His body hovered above you, always leaving a bit of space as to not smother you.

Your hands trailed along his strong arms, rubbing circles on the spots in which his skin was tattooed.

Jackson stopped kissing you for a moment as he giggled under your touch.

“That tickled.”

You smirked diabolically.

“My bad”.

Not even a second later you had your hands on his sides tickling him on purpose.

Jackson got startled and tried to escape your nimble fingers while laughing hysterically.

You learned to love that high pitched laugh rather quickly.

He easily freed himself out of your touch and reversed the roles.

Now, he held your hands in place and laid directly on you.

Feeling him felt nice, being this close to him felt even nicer.

The mood changed as quickly as his eyes did.

You did not understand how but his dark eyes turned even darker somehow.

Jackson looked at you intensely.

“Y/N, don’t you ever do that again. Unless…”

He stopped talking and observed your face instead.

You felt his eyes linger on your lips.

Excitement rushed through your whole body.

You licked your lips in anticipation.

“Unless?”

Jackson’s eyes lit up from arousal, swallowing hard.

“Unless you want to get punished, baby girl.”

He crushed his lips onto yours and kissed you with his all.

Desire, longing, yearning, passion – you couldn’t think of a word to describe him.

Describe this.

Your fingers found the back of his head, tugging on his Cruella hair.

“Need you closer.”

You mumbled in between kisses, not wanting to break contact with his lips.

Jackson complied, thrusting his hips onto you.

“Like this?”

You moaned.

Your eyes shot open from embarrassment.

Jackson’s lips turned to a smirk, watching you very closely.

“I wanna do that again.”

You looked confused.

“What?”

“I wanna hear you moan again. No, I-”

He thrusted his hips again, making you understand how desperate he was for you.

“I want to make you moan again. And again. And again.”

Jackson’s lips found yours again, kissing you until you ran out of breath.

His almond shaped eyes looked down at you, requesting.

“If you let me?”

Fuck, he was good.

Your hands let go of his hair and travelled down to his crotch instead.

You were kneading him through his pants, smirking at him.

“Let’s go then.”

You had no idea how long the two of you had been at it.

The car was rocking.

The windows were fogged.

The air smelled like sex.

Both of you were sweaty and out of breath.

You still sat on his lap thanks to the last position he had you in.

You were covered in bite marks.

Neck, tits, inner thighs – Jackson marked you everywhere.

“I had no idea our date would go like this but I liked it.”

He laughed shyly.

You mirrored his laughter and pressed your forehead to his.

Jackson took your head into his hands, watching you with the biggest smile.

“You are so beautiful, y/n. Like really, fucking beautiful.”

He placed another kiss on your lips.

The kisses before were hungry and hurried.

Now they were sincere and sweet.

“How the hell are you still single?”

Ouch.

That one hurt.

“Because of guys like you, Jackson.”

You wanted to get away from him.

And his car.

You wanted to get up and cry.

“Because of guys like you. The ones that get to know me and tell me the sweetest things. Y/N, you are so beautiful. Y/N, you are so great. I wanna date you and do this and do that blablabla. Guys like you Jackson, they only want to fuck me and then they leave for someone else. You tell me why I’m still single.”

You practically spat out those last words.

Rage filled your whole body.

“Hello? Y/N? You okay?”

You snapped back to reality, leaving your blame game fantasies.

An awkward laugh left your lips.

“Sorry, got lost in thought.”

You smiled, hoping he would let it go.

Jackson was not sure what to do next.

Your vibe had changed completely.

You were cold and reserved now.

Your body tense.

Your smile fake.

“Did I.. Did I do something wrong?”

You turned your head away, laughing again.

“Of course not.”

His hand grabbed your face smoothly and turned it back so you could face him.

“Don’t do that y/n.”

You looked at him surprised.

“Do what?”

“Don’t hide from me, please. I know that I said something that triggered you and I’m sorry. But please, don’t shut me out.”

Jackson’s eyes were filled with sorrow – something you had never seen before in a male counterpart.

Slowly you regained your composure.

“You asked as a joke, I overreacted. It was really not that deep.”

“What if it was?”

He tugged back the strands of hair that fell into your face.

“What if it was deep? Why not talk about it? Don’t hold everything in, y/n.”

You were resistant.

This was not what you wanted.

This was supposed to be a careless date.

How did it turn into this?

“Do you trust me?”

Strangely enough, you did.

You nodded your head.

Jackson beamed you a smile.

“I trust you, too.”

His words touched you.

He touched you.

You felt yourself relax, as if weight had dropped off your shoulders.

You let out a deep breath.

Jackson took your hands into his and squeezed them.

“Wanna know how this normally goes?”

He nodded quietly.

“Well, I am still single because I meet the worst kind of people. You know the ones that don’t want to commit but behave as if they fell in love with you? It’s always the same – they tell me the nicest things, just like you did. Y/N, you are amazing. You are beautiful and smart and funny blabla, how are you still single?”

Tears were starting to fill your eyes.

Jackson didn’t say a word.

He knew it was hard for you.

He knew what it felt like to be in your shoes.

He knew how hard it was to open up about your struggles.

Tears were running down your cheeks.

“God, I feel so stupid telling you all this. I am still single because guys only think of fucking me. That’s all they do. They use me and then they throw me away. Like I meant nothing. Like I was trash. They delete my contact, they block me, they are out of my life without a single word. That is why I am still single, Jackson. I’m just not made for love.”

Your last words lingered in the air for a while.

You felt his thumb on your cheek, whiping away your salty tears.

“That was hard, wasn’t it?”

You nodded.

You felt small.

You felt vulnerable.

You made a giant fool of yourself on this date.

Great.

“I admire you, y/n.”

Your reddened eyes shot up, looking at him with confusion.

“You.. You what?”

Jackson laughed, adoring your cuteness so much.

“I know what it’s like to go through hard times. And how it feels to be rejected. And how it feels to bottle it all up. I am sorry that you had to go though all this. But you haven’t closed off your heart and I admire you for that.”

Now you wanted to cry more.

Not out of sadness, but out of gratitude.

“What? Did you expect me to kick you out of my car after you confessed all that?”

Jackson laughed and started kissing your tears away.

He looked at you sternly, whispering.

“I would never do that.”

All of you wanted to believe him.

All of you craved for someone that was good to you for once.

But all of you was suspicious because of your past.

„You said this happened normally, right?“

You nodded.

„Good.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, closing the space between the two of you.

“I’m sure you already know that I am not a normal guy, right?”

[maxdibert]

Personal view, as someone who grew up in an abusive environment and is hyper-reactive to seeing children in distress or being mistreated by adults, including in fictional depictions, I never felt the kids in Harry Potter were in any danger from Snape. He’s bitchy and snarky, yes. But no more so than other teachers in Hogwarts. And from what I’ve experienced in the fandom, a lot of Snape fans are abuse survivors in some shape or form. He’s a complex character, and unlike a lot of fictional abuse survivors, he can actually be angry and rage. It’s very cathartic for people who have had to mask and suppress their negative emotions in real life.

It's curious how most Severus fans tend to be survivors of bullying or people who see themselves reflected in him because they went through similar experiences in school, or people who have experienced violence at home. Meanwhile, the haters are simply kids who have a terrible teacher and project that onto Snape, so they hate him.

If we're going to play the "I had terrible teachers, so I know how it feels" card, then I can use that too. Not only did I have terrible teachers—so bad that what they did was absolutely reportable and punishable—but in university, I even had professors who LITERALLY made students cry with their critiques. And yes, I’m very angry with those teachers. Even though I wasn’t always a direct victim, thinking about the teachers from my old school fills me with rage. And yes, whenever I’ve run into some of them on the street, I’ve made sure to say something to them in a super passive-aggressive way.

But the thing is, I don’t see any of them in Severus. Not a single one.

Severus has always reminded me of a literature teacher I had in my last years of school. He was a guy who taught classes to make some money while finishing his university doctorate—clearly, his goal was to be a researcher or teach at a university level. And you could tell from a mile away that he HATED having to teach teenagers. But hey, the school paycheck was good, right? I’m not going to blame him for that. The thing is, he had a degree in Philosophy and Literature and had a level way above that of a regular high school teacher.

I remember he was young. At the time, he seemed like an old man to me because when you're 16, anyone over 20 seems ancient, but he probably wasn’t even 35 yet. The thing is, he had no patience for nonsense. He hated childish antics in class, got annoyed by dumb questions, and if he explained something and someone asked the exact same thing two minutes later, he would clearly get irritated. I remember once a kid told him he had just read the latest Dan Brown novel, and this guy, with the most cunty smirk, said, "Well, I wouldn't know about that, Mr. X. I don't read mass-market literature." And it was like… lol why so mean? But I found it hilarious.

He was the only teacher who called us by our last names and never used informal speech, which was shocking to us because it never happened with other teachers. He rarely attended staff meetings or team dinners (a teacher who was actually abusive and spent entire classes physically humiliating 15-year-olds used to complain about that a lot). You almost never saw him interacting with other teachers because, honestly, I’ve always had the feeling that he thought his colleagues were idiots—and I don’t blame him. If I worked with that bunch today, I’d think they were idiots too.

Now, this guy was strict. Very strict. If you got a 4.9, he wasn’t giving you a 5, because you didn’t get a 5. He wasn’t going to be nice to you unless he thought it was strictly necessary. He wasn’t going to be warm, he wasn’t going to be friendly, he wasn’t going to be funny. He despised mainstream literature and bestsellers, believed certain books were absolute garbage, and thought people who only read that kind of stuff didn’t actually understand literature and lacked the braincells for it. You could agree or disagree with him, but his behavior wasn’t abusive.

Was he sometimes too blunt? Did he have incredibly sharp, sometimes unpleasant responses? Yes. And, funnily enough, this teacher was widely disliked precisely because he was one of the strictest ones. He was hated even more than the guy who groped female students or the one who called kids fat, gave them weight-loss tips, and told girls they dressed like prostitutes if they wore certain tops. But those guys used informal speech, gave you a 5 if you got a 4.6, and weren’t that strict, so people didn’t hate them as much.

That’s why Severus always reminded me of this guy. Ironically, I really liked him because I appreciated his sardonic, sharp humor, and he appreciated that I had read One Hundred Years of Solitude at 12 lol. But above all, he liked that, even though I never paid attention in his classes because I physically couldn’t focus on a lecture for more than 10 minutes, I never disrupted anything. I never got caught talking, never caused trouble—I was just drawing my stuff or reading things unrelated to the lesson, but I wasn’t bothering anyone.

And honestly, I think that’s all Severus wanted from his students: for them not to be a pain in his ass. And if he was an even bigger jerk to some, it was precisely because they got on his nerves the most.

The Weasley twins were total chaos and constantly acting like fools, yet they never have a bad word to say about Snape throughout the saga besides that he was kinda mean sometimes. Why is that? Maybe because they didn’t put the whole class in danger? Maybe because, while they were insufferable in the hallways, they knew they had to tone it down in Potions?

Only two people have a real problem with Severus as a teacher throughout the saga: one is Harry, who disrespects him from day one, constantly challenges him, talks back, breaks the rules, and does exactly the opposite of what Severus tells him. The other is Neville, who basically exists to give Severus seven consecutive nervous breakdowns in a single class.

That doesn’t make you an abuser—it makes you an adult who is sick to death of two pain-in-the-ass kids.

[critical-love-cod]

Why Can’t We Just Get Along

König x Fem!Reader

—•— ——— —• •• ——•

His gaze was on me the whole time. I could feel it. The 141 was in one of the main briefing rooms, getting our next assignment from Shepard and Laswell.

“Sting, you’ll be our main sniper.” Shepard said, pointing to me. I nodded at him and he at me. Just then, I could almost feel the heat radiating off of his body. He was angry. He always wanted to be main sniper on missions. But I had always been just a few shots better than he was.

“König, you’re with Sting. We’re going to be dropping you two on the main watchtower out there.” Shepard informed us. My stomach dropped. I had to be alone, on a roof, with him? The only pro to this situation is that he was under my command. I looked over at him, his blue-grey eyes filled with rage. I just smirked at him and looked back up at Shepard.

-Time Skip-

“Good luck you guys!” Gaz shouted over the sound of the helicopter’s propellers above us. I gave him a nod of thanks as I hopped down out of the bird, König close behind. I watched as the helicopter took off again, flying back down to the other side of our base. Then I felt König’s tall form looming behind me.

“Can I help you?” I asked, keeping my eyes forward. He didn’t respond, and just walked over to the right corner of the rooftop, throwing his backpack on the ground harder than was necessary. I watched him unload his gear, prop his rifle up on the edge and attach the scope. I scoffed in frustration, rolling my eyes and approaching him.

“Why do you hate me?” I asked, a bit more confidence in my voice. König looked up at me from his place on the ground. Even in the dim orange light of the watchtower I could see the anger in his eyes.

“Perhaps it’s because you, of all people, are in the position I so desperately want to be in.” He replied, his voice low and his German accent strong.

“I earned my place here.” I told him sternly. He stood up, towering over me.

“By doing what? Killing a few more people than me?” He asked, the aggression very apparent in his voice. “I’ve killed more people with my bare hands than you ever have with that stupid rifle.” My heart began racing. König always intimidated me, but that little bit of new information made me slightly more afraid of him.

“Well then why do you wanna be main sniper so bad?” I asked, throwing my arms up.

“Blutige Hölle, you don’t understand.” He replied, turning away from me again, picking up his rifle.

“Well then help me understand, König! We’re all on the same team here. I don’t think it’s fair that you don’t like me cause I’m a better shot than you!” I shouted. He turned to face me again and took a deep breath.

“How would you feel if you trained your whole life to be in one certain position, just for someone who has less experience in the field, to come in and get that position first?” He asked, looking down at me. I held his gaze for a moment.

“I’d feel awful.” I answered simply.

“Now you understand.” He replied, bowing sarcastically and then turning away again.

“König,” I began. “It’s not fair for you to hate me. At the very least be happy there is somebody good enough for the position.” I told him. He scoffed. “I’d love to have the skills in hand-to-hand combat you have.” I said, cautiously placing a hand on his left shoulder. I felt him tense under my touch but he didn’t move. “But just because I don’t have the skill you do, doesn’t mean I’m not happy we have you on the team.”

König turned to face me again, this time his eyes looked, apologetic.

“Es tut mir leid,” he said, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I just really want to be the best.”

“So do I. Believe me.” I chuckled. “So we’re not that different you and I. Why can’t we just get along, you know?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“How about during downtime from now on, I help you with your hand-to-hand combat,” he started.

“And I help you with your aim and steadiness?” I finished. He winced a bit, my words striking a nerve. But he nodded in agreement nonetheless. “It’s a deal.” I said, holding out my hand to him. He grabbed it gently, his hand completely engulfing mine. I let out a sigh of relief and König tilted his head a bit.

“Are you okay?” He asked. I nodded.

“Yeah, I’m just glad that we’re done hating on each other.” I admitted with a small laugh.

“Yes, I feel a little lighter now.” He told me. I smiled.

“That’s a good sign. I have a good feeling about this.” I said, gesturing between the two of us.

“So do I.” He replied, his gaze meeting my own.

The rest of the night was spent teaching him different ways to even out his breath to make his aim a bit steadier. I wasn’t lying when I said I had a good feeling about this. Matter of fact, I was very excited to build my relationship with König, and this was the perfect excuse to do so.

[alexsoenomel]

Feelin’ Baby Blue (Dean Winchester x Reader smut/fluff)

Requests: can you write a story where dean is just like touch starved and wants to cuddle so he doesn’t have nightmares while he sleeps.

Could you write a story where dean just needs a little comfort? like he’s had a rough day or is just feeling off and wants to be held and feel safe in the readers arms

Summary: Dean set you free by accident, not knowing you can feel the pain he was in and not knowing you’re able to give him what he secretly craved.

Pairing: Dean x Genie!Reader 

Warnings:  18+ MINORS DNI, Reader is a virgin, Dean is broken and pathetic, sweet love making, and Big O’s

Word count: 3.8k

Note: I added a little bit of fluffy smut because I’m a pathetic horny bitch and Dean deserves to get laid.

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)  

Wake up. Go to work. Collapse on the coach. Wake up. Make lunch for tomorrow. Shower. Sleep.

Over and over again.

Every day. The concept of time didn't exist, only work and work alone. You didn't know who you were, your true authentic self was buried deep in you, along with your dreams and goals. In this world dreams and goals were considered unnecessary, plus you didn't even know what your dreams and goals were. You were only aware of one thing and one thing only – you had to work in order to survive. This job was your bread and butter, financial issues disappeared but you could still feel the world crashing around you. Your life became only your 9 till 5. You had no one, with family scattered around the country, and friends being in different stages of life, you were left to only interact with people in your dull office job which made you hate this life even more. Empty conversations, small talk, gossip…

You didn't even remember the last time you genuinely laughed while talking to someone. Once you entered this machine, this cursed cycle called the capitalistic society, your life lost all meaning.

It was the same day over and over again.

****

North Platte, Nebraska

Sam and Dean just killed a nasty witch. She had been cursing family homes all over Nebraska, making family members eventually kill each other in fits of rage and insanity – reasons unknown. She was an old one – old as time. Her house was filled with endless shelves of books of ancient dark magic, ancient artifacts chattered all over, herbs, talismans – whatever a witch’s heart desired, she had it.

"Poor guy!" Dean said, looking at the white rabbit lying on the coffee table. His eyes were closed, his little body completely relaxed and spread out – it looked dead. "That bitch was creepy as hell!" He added. Dean was never fond of witches.

"I still don't understand why she was killing all those families!" Sam wondered, looking around her messy living room.

"Beats me!" The older Winchester shrugged his shoulders and put the gun with witch-killing bullets back in his jeans.

He was just about to tell Sam that it was time to go since the place was giving him the heebie-jeebies when he saw something that piqued his interest on one of the bookshelves.

"Sam, look!" His fingers were gently holding a medium-sized bottle filled with floating whiteish, blueish puffs. He was smiling like he just found his favorite childhood toy.

"Are those clouds?" Sam asked, trying to see what was inside the bottles. Nothing apart from "clouds" his eyes registered.

Dean, being Dean (childish and chaotic at times), started shaking the bottle, hoping something would happen. It didn't. The "clouds" were just floating in the bottle as he was shaking it.

"Dean, put it back where you found it, and let's get the hell out of here!" Sam told him.

"Fine."

As he was about to put it back on the shelf, a light bang echoed through the living room causing both Winchesters to turn around with their guns ready to kill whatever made the sound. Dean didn't even notice that he dropped the bottle, shattering it completely. The clouds were floating right behind them as they put their guns away realizing it was just the rabbit that Dean thought was dead on the coffee table. It jumped on the wooden floor knocking a little stone in the process. It just stood there looking at them.

"He ain't dead!" Dean's eyes widened in surprise. He couldn't help but smile – he'd always feel sad for the poor animals that were used for witchcraft.

Instinctively, both brothers then glanced at the dead witch lying a few inches away from them. She was still dead as a doornail. Good.

The rabbit sniffed the witch's face before urinating all over it. Both brothers chuckled. Even better.

In the meantime, the cloud behind them started growing bigger and bigger. It reached Sam's height and exploded as both brothers were hit with a force so strong it knocked them to the floor. Dean hit his cheek, and Sam his nose, causing a few drops of blood to appear seconds later.

"What the –" Dean said and looked behind him.

Sam did the same as he whipped the blood coming from his nose. "Holy crap!"

****

Five minutes before.

As you were about to answer your next call, bored out of your mind, staring at your computer screen and seeing the calls pile up, you noticed something unusual. Your colleague Dave was in the middle of a conversation and yet you couldn’t hear him behind his computer anymore – which was unusual considering he was the loudest one in the office. The telephones around you stopped ringing– all of them. You looked through the window and saw the rain that was pouring outside just seconds ago, frozen in the air. You turned around and there she was; Karen stiff as a statue, mouth open, holding a chocolate bar inches away from her face.

"What the–"

***

You woke up. Finally, you woke up. The hell was finally over. You were finally free.

Right in front of you was a sight to see– two gorgeous-looking men staring back at you. One of them seemed more broken than the other. They seemed puzzled.

“How did you free me?” You asked, looking down at your body, seeing you weren’t in your business attire anymore. Instead, you were wearing your baby blue summer dress again. You missed that dress – haven’t worn it in 5 years.

“Free you? Who are you?” The shorter one asked. His hand then went behind his back…he had a gun.

“That gun is useless on me.” You said and glanced at the taller one who also tried the same. You tilted your head to the right, squinting your eyes, looking at the taller one…the name immediately pooped in your head. “You’re Sam.” And a few seconds later the shorter one had a name too. “Dean.” You said looking at him. “Sam and Dean Winchester.”

Both brothers stared at you before Dean finally asked: “Who are you?” His voice was deep, sharp, and kind of intimidating.

“Call me G,” you said.

“How do you know who we are?” Sam asked. “Are you even human?”

“I know the people who summon me. In this case, you didn’t exactly summon me, you freed me.” You explained, “I’m a Genie.”

“A Djinn?” Dean asked in confusion and partial disgust. By the sound of his voice you could tell he wasn’t a fan of actual Djinns. You weren’t either. They were far more chaotic and evil and somehow humans would always mix you with them.

This man is wearing a mask, even his younger brother cannot see. His soul is aching.

“You humans always put me in the same basket as them. No, I’m not a Djinn.”

“Explain!” Dean demanded.

“Who else is a genie and wears blue…or rather is blue?”

Sam's eyes immediately widened as he connected the dots. “The Genie?”

“Bingo!”

Dean then connected the rest. “Like The Genie from Aladdin?”

“Something like that.” Your mouth smiled for the first time in so long it almost felt unnatural.

“I need a drink!” Dean said looking at his younger brother who just stared back at him, not knowing what to say.

“Oh, the bitch has a fine whiskey collection in the cabinet behind you, take your pick and I can explain everything.”  

“Don’t mind if I do!”

“Pour me a double Dean!”

“Roger that!”

After both brothers were intoxicated enough you started talking. You were born in 1992 when the original Aladdin came out. It was an absolute hit all over the world, children loved it, young adults and parents loved it. Genie became a star and that was how you were born. Children especially, desperately wanted their favorite character to be real and to grant them those three wishes and voila…

You didn’t remember much from your birth. You just knew one day you became sentient, real and aware of your purpose – making humans smile. From that day forward you were traveling all over the world and granting wishes – healing the inner child of each broken adult who would summon you and making the world a better place. It wasn’t until the witch found you and bound you to be her slave and used your magic whenever she pleased. The thing that separated you from the real cartoon Genie was – you could grant as many wishes as once heart desired. She used you for revenge, hatred and to satisfy her undying greed for riches – everything you didn't stand for. You were more than glad that she was dead.

“So wait, you’re actually a tulpa?” Sam asked. You were surprised by his logical thinking.

“You can say that.” You confirmed.

Dean took the last sip of whiskey not really knowing how to feel about all of this. Tulpas were a familiar concept for him for sure, but a tulpa of a fuckin’ cartoon character not so much. One thing puzzled him though…

“Isn’t Genie supposed to be a blue man with a ponytail?” He finally spoke.

“Kids didn’t imagine me to be a blue man with a ponytail.” You said, feeling how tired he was. No sleep could subside that.

Sam was hanging by the thread of sanity and good mental health, while his older brother had waves of sorrow and pain crashing into him every second of the day. He was craving something so desperately he was embarrassed of it.

Dean’s lips formed a small O. “Oh, okay.”

“How do people, or kids, summon you?” Sam asked. Real world was a bit different than the cartoon. The part where you live in a lamp at least.

"You just have to rub the lamp the right way" Dean was just waiting for the moment to make this reference since he was secretly a big Christina Aguilera fan. You chuckled, remembering the first time you heard that song in a bar of all places. Sam just looked at Dean like he was about to punch him. Dean grinned.

“That’s gross, Dean.”

“You just have to think of me long and hard before you go to sleep and I’ll pay you a visit.” You finally explained, eyes fixed on Dean. You knew what he craved, you could see right through him, even though he tried to hide it by avoiding your gaze.

“What are you going to do now?” Dean asked you, still avoiding meeting your eyes. He was looking at the book shelf right behind you.

You smirked and stood up. “Might pay you a visit.” Was all you said before you disappeared, leaving both brothers perplexed and a little tipsy.

***

When Sam and Dean came back to the bunker, the younger brother decided it was time to rest while the older one was pondering over your last words.

“Might pay you a visit.”

He couldn’t help but remember your sharp and rather strange gaze. Something about it intimidated him – he felt naked whenever you would look at him. He was a closed forbidden book, only Sam could open it and yet in your presence he was completely exposed – or at least that was how he felt. The thought of you was consuming him slowly, in the shower, in the kitchen, before dinner, after dinner… When he finally went to bed he caved in, remembering your words.

“You just have to think of me long and hard before you go to sleep and I’ll pay you a visit.”

He was slowly drifting, his mind scattered and consumed with only your picture. As his eyes became heavy he heard a whisper – he knew he wasn’t dreaming yet.

“Dean!”

His head left the soft surface of his pillow as he opened his eyes only to see you standing next to his bed.

“G?” He whispered as his hand reached over and turned on the lamp on his night stand.

“I can feel it, y’ know” You said and sat on the edge of his bed. He sat up, back against the headboard.

“Feel what?” He asked even though something was already telling him the answer he thought he didn’t know.

“Your soul is aching, Dean. There’s not enough alcohol and meaningless night stands in this world to ease your pain. It’s too sharp, too deep. You broke my heart as soon as you set me free.”

You knew pain. You felt it all. In sick children, in traumatized adults – you knew every shape it would take, but Dean’s pain was impossible to feel. It was too much even for you.

“I didn’t realize you’re a shrink too.” The sass was evidently just a coping mechanism – one of the masks he would wear to survive this terrible life he was living.

You weren’t bothered by his words. You knew he would eventually say the forbidden words. Without warning you climbed into his bed and sat on his lap, both of your legs on his sides. You stared at him, fingers tracing along his cheeks, jaw, until you reached his perfectly full lips. He was beautiful – one of the most beautiful humans you have ever seen. His genetic blessings didn't outshine his blessings from within. His soul, even broken and in pain, was still full of love and compassion. It was such a beautiful mix of love and tragedy. Your face was inches away from his and as you got closer, the pain got sharper. You were ready to make him feel whole again, but he had to say the words.

“I know what you crave, Dean. I can feel it.”

“A sexy chick wearing a Zorro mask on top of me?” Still with the humor. You found it cute to an extent. Silly Dean.

“Meaningless sex won’t fix that, y’ know?”

“Yeah,” He finally gave up the shenanigans when he saw you weren’t buying the shit he was trying to sell. “I’ve learnt to live with it.”

You could feel his hot breath against your face as you got even closer. Dean’s eyes softened, jaw relaxed as he cupped your cheek. He only now noticed how beautiful and angelic you look, even under the light of his shitty lamp on the nightstand. Your soft skin under his fingertips felt a little too intimate for him, and yet he couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop.

“You don’t have to live with it though. I can make it go away, you just have to say the words.”

You cupped his hand with yours, his touch sending shivers all over your body. You really liked the sensation. You were craving more. His hand was hot, soft and human. No man nor woman has touched you like this.  

“You mean like, make a wish?” He was finally starting to get it.

“That’s how it goes, right?” You smiled.

“Christ.” – he muttered before swallowing nervously – “I wish I didn’t feel like this.”

“Like what? My magic cannot read minds. You have to be specific.”

He took a deep breath, feeling like he was about to embarrass himself. Verbalizing emotions wasn’t something he was comfortable with. “I wish the pain I feel didn’t exist,” He stated and the words just kept coming. “I wish I wasn't so... broken? I wish for more than just meaningless night stands.” He confessed before it hit him. “Wait, does this count as 3 wishes?”

“You can wish as many things as your heart desires, handsome. Now, close your eyes!”

Dean closed his beautiful green eyes as you went in for a kiss. It usually doesn't work like that. You weren't a crossroads demon. You would usually just snap your fingers and disappear right after. Your magic was powerful and yet simple. But this time it was different. This time a man with a broken soul asked to feel whole again, to feel again. He wanted more than meaningless transactional touches and kisses so you decided to give him what he wanted. You have never come across such a special soul like Dean Winchester. He was giving too much and yet the world was consumed by greed and constantly wanted more. His brother Sam was everything he had, his rock, his world and yet even he couldn't heal things inside of his older brother. Dean was tired of feeling like this.

The kiss was innocent and your first. You didn't exactly know what you were doing but you liked it. His lips were soft and lonely. He was hungry for a connection he didn't have. His body was desperate to be touched. His hand went in your hair as he slowly deepened the kiss, leaving you hot and panting. You have seen people kiss and sleep with each other. You were an avid watcher of rom coms – your favorite pastime whenever you would roam around the world, traveling and making people smile.

Even The Genie needed air, so when you couldn't breathe anymore you broke the kiss. Dean's eyes full of adoration refusing to stop looking at you. How strange how now he was ready to strip his soul and actually look at you.

Your fingers intertwined with his as you pushed them above his head, your face dangerously close to him. You wanted to kiss him again.

"Am I supposed to feel different now?"

"No, this isn't something I can fix with a simple kiss. Your soul is craving another soul and I intend to give you mine. Kiss me!"

Dean lifted his head from the pillow and kissed you again this time slipping his tongue right away in your mouth. His kisses were coded with mint and you liked the taste.

It felt like an instinct almost when your hips started moving, grinding against his dick – only your panties and his boxers separating you. He was already hard and desperate, moving up and down trying too hard to satisfy the need that was only growing stronger.

You have never surrendered yourself so freely, letting a human touch you, let alone kiss you like he did, but you have never had a man like Dean asking you to fix something within him that the world so joyfully broke.

His hands were roaming freely all over your body, studying the shapes along the material of your dress as your lips never left his, until he started kissing your jaw and neck, sending you into a blissful euphoria you never knew existed in the first place. You let out a sigh as your hands went into his hedgehog like hair.

"Love me, Dean!" You spoke between pathetic moans and sighs. "Love me and I'll be yours forever!"

He heard you but his lips were too busy getting drunk on your neck to say anything so he just took you by the waist with both hands and like you were nothing flipped you over.

His lips found yours again in a desperate sleepless hunger as your hand took his and guided him to your already wet underwear.

"Touch me! I'm yours!" You said, letting him know he could. It has been a long time for him and you could feel the nervousness pumping through his veins. As soon as his fingers touched the wet fabric of your panties, pushing it lightly against your wet cunt, you moaned.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" He asked, again showing you how beautiful and carrying he was.

You placed a kiss on his lips. "Yes, I am sure."

Your voice was sweet like honey and Dean was experiencing a sugar rush.

“Oh and you can leave my dress on. I can feel how much you like it.” You added and winked.

Dean didn’t quite understand what you meant by that so he asked.

“Can you read minds?”

You smiled. He was adorable. “Not exactly. I can feel it. Your desires, what troubles you – everything. It comes in waves.”

You didn’t let him say anything, instead you crashed your lips on his as your hands went underneath his shirt feeling his soft skin covered in scars. If only he knew his soul shared the same resemblance. Dean realized where your hands were and in a second got rid of the t-shirt.

“I want you!” You whispered into his ear.

He was hypnotized, not really aware of his surroundings, his hardships, his name. Only you existed in his brain, heart and soul.

He took off his boxers, and your panties moments later – leaving you only in your dress and pressed the tip of his dick against your entrance. Nose touching, eyes locked, feeling each other’s breaths on your faces he entered you slowly. It didn’t occur to you that it would hurt since it was your first time. You gasped at the new sensation.

“You’re so tight!” Dean whispered. “Jesus!”

“Move! Please!” You begged. He didn’t need to know. He was your first and only one. After this night your soul will be bound with his, forever.

He moved slowly first, letting you adjust and relax under him. Your fingers dug into his shoulder blades as soon as waves of pleasure started splashing you. The pain was gone and you were in pure bliss.

“God, you’re beautiful!” He told you, placing kisses along your jaw.

You moaned his name in response as his pace became faster, his thrusts harder. Your body was on fire and yet you felt a sense of calm. You could feel his pain slowly fading. His worries disappeared. You were stitching him back together.

“You’ll feel whole again!” You said before kissing him.

As he was pounding into you, you could feel something building up in the lower part of your stomach. Your eyes, usually sapphire blue, started fading, replacing the shade with a very light baby blue color. You grinned when you realized what was happening. His wish was about to come true.

“Your eyes –” Dean noticed but you sealed his mouth with a kiss. As he was slamming into you, your climax hit you like a truck. Your body was stiff, pure pleasure engulfing you completely – nothing you have ever experienced before. Dean didn’t stop until he came seconds later, panting and whimpering – completely falling apart from pleasure. He collapsed on you, burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

“This feels different.” He said, trying to catch his breath.

“How so?”

“Feels like love.”

“Your wish is my command!”

You didn’t leave that night. He fell asleep in your arms, for the first time and in a long time, snoring. No nightmares.  His pain was gone. Since sleep was an unfamiliar concept for you, you just enjoyed his presence while your soul was warming up his now healed one.

You knew you weren’t free to roam the world anymore. You were content with being his – forever.

[oscconfessions]

Ok I’m not done for tonight same anon that screamed into the box abt cabcase misogyny here to talk abt Jerk Guy Knife stuff cuz too much rage is unhealthy

I think ppl should talk abt how gradually Knife gets more comfortable in his masculinity. He felt shame for his comfort item being a dora doll but like, nobody gaf and I think that gave him comfort lol

Trophy rlly thought he was all that // Trophy is still effected by toxic masculinity (free him)

Even more so when he began showing more vulnerable sides of himself little by little thanks to Case, the way he was so giddy with Pickle… right afterwards… the way he actually begun realizing what he truly cared about. I don’t understand why ppl think Knife becoming more comfortable to be soft and honest about himself is a bad thing… bunch of Trophy text bubbles I swear

It’s not like Knife was butchered, he still had his edges, can’t take the jerk outta him // why are we so afraid to let this guy feel… I think… love (all love) is a good thing to feel… Knife should be able to express that… unrelated but popped into my head that Justin said on one of their streams that he secretly listens to hyperfem pop from the early 2000s

Think everything glittery hot pink, barbie girl, corny electric music that is poppy and upbeat with sexual metaphors you won’t get until a decade later when you’re an adult

Good for him. Let him have nice things. He is def the reason I started feeling more comfortable expressing my masculinity, to be a man is to be loved me thinks // to be anything is to be loved 💙

confession confession within a confession but I usually don’t come here to send anons unless I’m really rage filled and nobody likes a rager unless they’re also in the rage room too, I guess confessiony guy is my rage room

If I’m not in the rage room I’m avoiding this place like the plague bc this place doubles as a both a room to let out rage and a room to receive rage

I don’t think I’m a raging person I am just a ghoulish ghost with a variety of ghostly issues that need to be ghostbusted 🎀 idk I never rant abt stuff I enjoy here… nice change of pace me thinks

Knife Inanimate Insanity

.

[webslingingslasher]

pregnancy scare with frat!peter… what would he do? would he ghost her completely or support her no matter what the test says?

this is different than ya'll wanted but... IT'S WHAT I WROTE OK??

For the first time since he’s met you, Peter is filled with rage and is only seeing red. He’s never been this pissed in his entire life, this was his life and his future on the line and you didn’t say one word to him. What if he hadn’t come over? What if he hadn’t gone to the bathroom? 

It had fuck all to do with the results, it was the fact you hid it from him. Something that big, that life changing, needed to be talked about, at least shared with the guy you’ve been fucking. A common fucking courtesy if you will. And he knows he should give himself a moment to breathe and calm himself down before asking questions but he is so mad he could rip a car apart. 

Mid piss he looked around and his eyes fell on your trash can, eyes skipping to the next focal point. Then his mind registers what it saw and his eyes widen, chest tightening and a paused inhale. His gaze slowly traveled back to the trash can, clear as day, a pregnancy test. 

Zipping his pants with shaky hands, Peter reached down to grab the plastic. A clear negative, but it didn’t make him feel better, it made him feel worse. How fucking selfish could she be? Doesn’t she know this affects me too? Why didn’t she tell me? It went from panic to anger in a millisecond, he gripped the sides of the porcelain sink with white knuckles. 

Throwing himself away from the sink he ripped the door open, and sped walked to your small kitchen before slamming the test on the counter. 

“What the fuck is this?” Pure venom, it made your shoulders tense. Turning to blink at the negative and shrugging, feeling uncomfortable for the first time around him. “A pregnancy test?” Wrong answer, you just lit a fire in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, do you think this is funny? Or cute?” 

You feel like you’re shrinking under his glare, you didn’t know he could be so intimidating. 

“Why are you so mad? It’s negative.” 

His hand slaps the counter, “what if it wasn’t? I mean, were you just going to spring that on me? Would you even tell me?” 

“Peter,” Futile, he’s running his mouth. 

“Do you understand that this involves another person? This is my life and my future and you don’t say a fucking word to me? You spew a lot of shit about trust and then leave out this really fucking big thing?” Hands moving as his thoughts tumble out, you went from neutral to guarded, it’s his fault you didn’t tell him. 

“Is it my fault I thought you wouldn’t care? Or I don’t know, throw me out of your house? Tell me to fuck off and never talk to you again? How was I supposed to tell you I was late without you backing out entirely?” 

Insulted, “I wouldn’t do that. You really love painting me as a giant asshole when I’ve never been one, unless that’s some boyfriend bitterness seeping through.” Peter might be right, maybe you do paint him as a bit of an asshole, but throwing the boyfriend thing in your face was too far. 

“Fuck you, Peter.” 

As much as you tried to fight it, tears collected in the corner of your eyes, your throat felt raw and tight, blowing a breath out you swerved around Peter, you couldn’t look at him anymore, you needed to walk away and hold yourself. Arms blocked your path, wrapping around your waist, trying to push them away, but tugged into his chest. 

“C’mon, don’t walk away.” Pushing against him, sadness leaving and frustration piercing your skin, harshly fighting against his grasp. “Let me go! You’re a fucking asshole, like this time you really, really are.” Peter holds you tighter, “I know, I know I am.” 

Faulting in his hold but gently pulling his thumbs, “you do?” 

“I shouldn’t have said that to you, that’s unfair. It just really hurts me when you say I don’t care, I really, really, really care about you, trouble. And when something this big happens I want to know you can talk to me, it fucking kills me you think I’d kick you out or cut you out of my life.” 

Your bottom lip trembles, “I was petrified it would be positive, you know why?” Peter’s hands rub up and down your back, “cause you might ask me to be your girlfriend.” His head tilts, “that’s a nightmare for you?” 

“I want to be your girlfriend because you want me to be, not because you feel indebted cause we have a kid.” 

Peter takes a deep breath, “hey,” his palms cup your face, giving you a fish face he smiles, “I’m sorry, and,” he gives you a soft kiss, “the next pregnancy scare, I promise you you’ll be my girlfriend. So there’s no question.” 

You kiss him this time, humming when you pull away. “You could do it now, you know.” 

His voice is low, “nah,” his thumbs brush your cheeks, “let me earn it, make all the waiting worth it.” 

[anthurak]

So here’s an interesting thought I had revisiting this little rambling piece on Hazel I posted a little while back:

What if (in-universe anyway) Hazel’s position in Salem’s inner-circle was originally meant to be filled by Leonardo?

Going back to my original post, to me Hazel feels just a bit out of place compared to Cinder, Tyrian and Watts. Both in a ‘What do you do here exactly?’ sense as I mentioned in the post, but also in the sense that the other three all feel particularly notable and stand-out in one way or another, while Hazel… kinda doesn’t?

Tyrian is a notorious murderer and maybe the deadliest killer of his time on Remnant. Watts is a brilliant scientist and inventor who also happens to have an intimate knowledge of every last weakness and secret backdoor in Atlas*. And of course Cinder is clearly VERY special and key to Salem’s plans in ways we don’t understand yet.

Meanwhile Hazel seems to be pretty much just a random huntsman with a particularly strong aura and a major grudge against Ozpin. Sure, that’s notable but compared to the likes of Cinder, Watts and Tyrian, it makes Hazel feel a more like a rando, you know? Like he’s just there to be extra muscle with a side order of ‘chuck at Ozpin if he’s around’.

And this gets even more interesting when we compare Hazel to Leonardo. Like how Leonardo has some notable similarities to Hazel, most importantly both once having believed in Ozpin but now gravely resent him and have turned coat to join Salem. Furthermore, when you think about it Leonardo is actually a far more notable individual in a way that makes more in line with the like of Watts and Tyrian.

I mean Leonardo is a turncoat headmaster! One of Ozpin’s inner circle who has turned traitor and joined Salem. Just like, and really even more so than Watts, he would have the FULL knowledge of how to get the Lamp out from under Haven Academy.

And yet, it seems like Hazel was the one brought into Salem’s inner-circle while Leonardo was not.

Does that seem… odd to anyone else?

Well, as I posited at the beginning: What if Leonardo originally WAS going to be on Salem’s inner-circle, but it didn’t work out and Hazel was brought in as a replacement?

Picture the following: In the wake of whatever went down with Summer Rose and the start of her current plans (more on that idea here XD), Salem went on her recruitment drive for her new inner-circle of followers/patsies, which included Cinder, Watts, Tyrian, and Leonardo. Salem likely knew just how much Leo had become isolated and browbeaten in his position as headmaster and growing all the more resentful of Ozpin, leading Salem to guess he would make an excellent addition.

Yet for whatever reason, Leonardo did not live up to Salem’s expectations. Perhaps we can get a hint as to what this was when we look at Salem’s clear DISGUST at Leonardo’s sycophantic groveling towards her. Maybe Leonardo was so broken, browbeaten and fearful of Salem that he wasn’t all that useful to her beyond being a basic pawn.

So with Leonardo being a dud, Salem had to go looking elsewhere. And perhaps even thanks to Leonardo, Salem head about Hazel and went to recruit him instead as the ‘Plan B’. Sure, this guy might not be a ‘rogue headmaster who was once part of Ozpin’s inner circle’, but he’s built like a brick shithouse, pretty damn hard to kill and has an intense, murderous rage towards Ozpin, so he’ll do.

Now admittedly, given that both Hazel and Leonardo are long dead by this point, I’m not sure if all this really… means anything?

But I do think it’s interesting to consider.

--

*Insert whatever joke related to ‘Watts being a pain in Ironwood’s ass’ you like here XD

[lowytavis]

Shadow Ball - Garrick Tavis x Reader (OC)

Chapter 4 - Confession time Baby

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 ____

"I did nothing!" Kily yelled at them, her voice shaking with frustration.

"Just tell us the truth, Kily," Sawyer muttered, his expression torn between anger and disappointment.

"We trusted you!"

"And I did fucking nothing! Is no one here listening to me?"

Her frustration turned into something sharper, something more dangerous.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. I could feel the tension crackling in the air.

With Abomination 1 and 3 still locked in their cells, every single one of my friends had their eyes on her, surrounding her like a threat that needed containing.

"I swear to you, I didn’t do anything," she insisted, her breath heavy.

Then, quieter—more cautious, she added, "But I do know what might have happened."

---

"Yes!" Kilian said joyfully, grinning at us from behind the bars of his cell.

The stench hit us first.

The floor was smeared with filth—his filth.

Feces, vomit, piss—it was everywhere.

The smell was overwhelming, but the real horror was him.

His wild, gleaming eyes locked onto us, filled with an unsettling glee.

"I can do more than just hurt people," he mused, swaying slightly, his grin stretching wider. "I can be nice too."

Xaden scoffed, stepping forward. "What the hell do you mean by nice?"

Kilian’s grin turned almost delirious.

"I can only amplify what’s already there," he purred. "Hate… rage…"

His eyes flicked toward me, and my stomach twisted.

"Sexual attraction." His eyes—glowing purple.

Sawyer took a slow step back. "You’re a danger," he muttered, gripping the hilt of his sword.

Kilian chuckled. "That’s exactly what I am."

And then—all hell broke loose. And we realized he is not wearing his restraints. ____

"I can't believe you would do that to me!" Violet snapped at Xaden, her voice sharp with betrayal.

"I waited all night for you to come to bed, but no—you stood at the damn window like Garrick was suddenly the most important person in your life. If you want him so bad, why don’t you just fuck him already?" -Jealousy.

Xaden scoffed, his patience snapping. "Oh, right. The second my attention isn’t completely on you, I’m suddenly the worst person alive? Maybe I should just cut everyone out of my life and exist solely for you. Would that make you happy, Violet?" -Hurt.

Sawyer, who had just stepped back into the room, turned to me, his expression dark. "I can’t believe you kissed her, Garrick. What the hell is wrong with you?" His voice was low, bitter. "I was out of the room for two damn minutes, and you’re already looking for a quick fuck? Are you serious right now?" -Disappointment.

"Do you guys ever stop fighting?" Ridoc groaned, rubbing his temples. "I try to hold this group together, but you’re all so insufferable. Not even I can fix this mess when you’re all acting like children." -Frustration.

"And you, Garrick," Sawyer continued, stepping closer, his voice cold, measured, dangerous. "Do you even understand what you’ve done? This isn’t just about you. You let your guard down, and now look at us. Look at this fucking mission. Everything’s falling apart, and you’re standing there like it’s not your problem." -Resentment.

But no one stopped.

No one backed down.

We kept pushing each other, voices rising, tempers flaring, until the air itself felt suffocating.

And then—Kilian laughed.

It was the kind of laugh that sent a chill straight through your bones.

Low, twisted, soaked in something wrong.

The violet mist thickened. Our eyes—purple.

No one could stop.

No one could break free.

The yelling escalated.

Shouting turned to threats. And then—we reached for our weapons.

____

"Stop! You're not yourselves!" I heard Kily scream as she stumbled into the room.

For a split second, all our attention snapped to her.

"The fuck? Get away from us, you spawn of Malek!" Imogen roared.

Her hand moved before anyone could react—a knife, sharp and deadly, cutting through the air toward Kily.

It missed.

Just barely.

"You have to stop!" Kily shouted.

But we couldn't.

We fought like animals.

Every man for himself.

To death.

Steel against steel. Magic against magic.

A strangled gasp here, a cry of pain there.

"STOP!" Kily’s voice broke thro

Xaden had Violet pinned to the ground, his shadows coiled around her throat like a noose. She clawed at them, struggling, choking, her lips turning blue.

"STOP! PLEASE, LET HER GO!" Tears streamed down Kily’s face, but no one listened.

And then—she tore off her restraints. The metal rings around her fingers snapped like twigs. The collar around her throat fell away, clattering against the cold stone floor.

A thick, inky black mist erupted from her skin, twisting into the air, mixing with the toxic violet fog that already poisoned the room.

Kily rose from the ground, lifted by an unseen force, her body weightless, hovering midair.

Her eyes—a swirling abyss of black and purple.

Then—the faces appeared. Hundreds of them. Hers. Twisted. Deranged. Grinning wide and unnatural.

The shadows surged forward from every direction—beneath us, above us, around us. The grotesque, grinning copies of Kily rocked from side to side, an eerie, unhinged laughter rising in unison.

Kilian—who had taunted us just moments ago—stumbled back against the far wall of his cell.

And for the first time—he looked afraid.

____

He's dead. They killed him.

SHE killed him.

But she wasn't done.

The black-violet shadows leaped and twisted, the grotesque faces swaying side to side in an unnatural rhythm.

Pure terror.

They laughed. They sobbed. They screamed. All at once. Hundreds of them. Kilian? - dead in his cell. A mangled, unrecognizable heap.

But Kily didn't stop. She still hovered in the air, her body weightless, her power spreading—filling every inch of the room, seeping into the walls, curling around us like a living, breathing nightmare.

With Kilian’s death, his magic faded. The curse lifted. The chaos in our minds vanished.

And that’s when Xaden, breathing heavily, finally understood.

“We have to kill her.” His voice was steady, resolute.

I turned away. “I can’t.”

I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t face the weight of his words—or the disappointment in his eyes.

Xaden crept closer, raising his sword, ready to strike— But before the blade could connect, Kily collapsed.

Violet was on top of her, breathing hard.

She was dead.

Kily was dead.

And yet, something inside me ached in a way I couldn’t understand.

"The restraints..." Violet murmured, holding Kily’s limp fingers in her hands. "They’re enough to suppress her magic."

I stepped closer, my breath unsteady. Xaden stared down at his wife, silent.

"You brought her under control," Sawyer said, exhaling, and I could swear—even he was relieved.

She wasn’t dead. Violet had saved her. And I—I could finally breathe again.

"She saved our lives... It's the least I could do," Violet mumbled.

We were all visibly shaken.

Outside, the sky had turned dark.

Hours. This fight had lasted for hours—hours of psychological torment that we had turned into physical violence.

"I almost killed you," Xaden muttered, staring blankly ahead—his words directed at Violet.

"You weren’t yourself," she said softly, wrapping her arms around his.

He pulled her close, letting out a shaky breath.

Imogen scoffed, crossing her arms. "Well, at least now we can be sure Garrick isn’t a traitor."

But even without Kilian’s magic, even without his influence... I still would have kissed her. Maybe not today. Maybe not this fast. But there was something about her, something undeniable.

"I think it would’ve happened anyway," Ridoc grinned, far too amused for the situation. "They got along from the start. She called him her favorite Garrick, remember?"

"She saved us," Sawyer whispered, his legs giving out as he sank to the floor.

Relief. Exhaustion.

It crashed over all of us at once.

We stood there, staring at the wreckage around us—the cell destroyed, the hallway shattered.

Traces of the mist lingered, now thick and viscous, pooling into a black-purple sludge.

And in the middle of it all, Kily.

Lying motionless on the ground, wrapped in my far-too-big T-shirt.

____

Next couple parts coming very soon <3