#like there’s nothing wrong with the intent or the sentiment

[explode-this]

.

[barnbridges]

not to say my daily take again, but bunny's specific lack of place, the fact that even his friends don't even like him, and that he lies constantly and can switch from hot to cold and from loving to disdainful but keep acting like everything is fine afterwards is what being highly masking is like and it's terrifying mentally thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[luveline]

if it’s at all possible, i’m requesting the fluffiest, giggliest fic with poly!marauders where reader is just sad and teary so they get in a big cuddle pile and tickle her and kiss her until she’s a giggly mess and all cheered up 🥹 thank you lovely jade!! <3

ty for requesting angel! fem, 1.1k

You watch yourself in the mirror. At your vanity, a cotton pad soaked in toner in hand. You wash down your face gently, your eyes hot and heavy and waiting to fill with tears. 

Maybe it’s because it’s Sirius who’s sitting on your bed that you end up crying. It’s hard to explain why it makes a difference, why he’s the one out of everyone who you can’t hide from when you’re sad. It’s not as though James or Remus are any less understanding than he is. James is the most generous person you’ve ever met, he’d let you cry into his arms for days on end without complaint, and Remus understands better than most what it is to be in pain, but Sirius won’t make you talk about it. When you’re feeling better, you’ll realise that it’s the complete lack of pressure to confront your feelings that brings them to the surface. Sirius won’t ask you to explain yourself. 

The tears fall down in discordant waves. One from the left, two from the right. Your nose grows hot, an uncomfortable wetness gathering at the back of your throat. 

You put your cotton pad aside, sniffling. 

“You okay, my angel?” Sirius asks, turning another page of his novel. 

You take a shaky breath. “Yeah,” you say, voice thick with tears. 

“You don’t sound okay.” You watch in the mirror as he puts his book down. He stands up quickly, and you’re presented with how good looking he is. Even through tears, he looks pretty. “What’s wrong?” 

You bend in on yourself, pressing your fingers to your eyes. “It’s nothing.” 

His hand falls against your shoulder, warm, the other not far behind. He leans on your back. “Come on, sweet girl,” he whispers, “don’t cry by yourself. Come to bed with me.” 

He doesn’t push you. You knew he wouldn’t. 

You let him usher you into the bed, where he sits with crossed legs and you fall into his chest. Your shoulders ache with your crying, shaking as the tears turn to sobs. You think about everything too much. And, despite the best intentions, Sirius’ gentle patting and hugging makes you cry harder. 

It’s a quiet house. The sound of your breakdown attracts another boy. He climbs into bed in front of you both. You know it’s Remus because James’ would’ve exclaimed in fear at the door, his hand tentative on your thigh. “Is everything alright?” he asks softly. 

“She’s okay, just a rough day,” Sirius says. 

It isn’t a lie. You wrap your arms around his waist like a clamp and lay there, face slipping down against his stomach, all bent and hurting as tears soak his dark t-shirt. 

“Really rough, it must’ve been,” Remus says. He rubs your thigh. “It’ll be okay. We’re here.” 

That makes you cry worse, too, but eventually the sentiment is driven home. No matter how bad the day is, or what happens to you, you’ll always have people to come home to who love you, and who want to rub your back for you when you can’t calm down. 

Remus pats your leg in a rhythm. Sirius stays very still. They both, somehow, know what you need. 

A little later, you lay with your face pressed to Sirius’ chest just shy of his armpit, Remus’ patting turned to light tickling, his voice a low constant. “You’re just so beautiful it intimidates people, that’s your problem, dovey, you’re scary because you’re that pretty. You think I’m blowing smoke, but I’m serious, and Sirius agrees with me, and James would get down on his knees right here and now and testify to that same thing.” His hand slides between the soft upper insides of your thighs to squeeze one reverently. “Everyone is jealous of you.” 

“Stop it,” you mumble. 

“She’s smiling,” Sirius says, drawing a loop behind your ear. 

“Stop.” 

“Everyone is jealous of me,” Remus furthers, “at Books and Coco, whenever you come with me, the boy behind the counter always gives me that stupid chauvinistic look like I’ve done some great service to men-kind in landing you.” Remus leans down to kiss your leg. “And it’s silly that he gives me that look, but his sentiment isn’t wrong. I can’t say I landed you, but I am lucky.” 

“Stop,” you say again, laughing as his breath further tickles your leg. 

The door to the bedroom clatters open. You jump, having not heard the front door, but Sirius rubs your arm and you quickly calm. After all, it’s James coming in. He’s far from scary. 

“Hello,” he says, a little breathless, “you guys wouldn’t believe the photo I just took at the pond. The sun was setting and there were all these colours coming through the trees and over the water.” He gives you a funny look. “Have you been crying?” 

“Just a bit,” Sirius says gently, hugging you a half inch closer, “she’s alright now.” 

James frowns. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” 

“It’s okay,” Sirius answers for you. To some, his speaking for you might irk them, but right now it’s exactly what you need. It’s less embarrassing to have him talk for you. “Remus has praised her half to death, and he keeps tickling us both.” 

“Oh, you’re tickling him too?” you ask. 

Remus squints at you. “Well, just a little bit.” 

You put upon a forlorn sigh. “I’m not as special as I thought.” 

“Sweetheart, you are the most special,” James says, climbing into the bed, making you the centre of their flower, “you’re gorgeous. Let’s have a kiss.” 

“That’s what I said,” Remus says, laughing as you lean away from James’ kiss, even as big hands find your cheeks to hold your face. 

“Come on, lovely girl, just give me a kiss so I know you’re alright,” James says. 

You evade to tease him. You can’t help laughing as you turn your head one way and then the other, quick to dodge him, his lips pressing half kisses against whatever bit of skin he can as you move. 

“This is harassment!” you laugh. 

“Just one kiss…” He holds your face steady, and he looks at you long and hard. When you move your chin up to kiss him, he moves away. “You’re okay?” he asks softly. 

“I’m fine,” you laugh, kissing him quickly. 

James collapses atop you, all his weight and smells. “Thank god for that.” 

“Well, thank Sirius,” Remus says, “he did all the back-rubbing.” 

Sirius groans and tries to get out from under you. “You’re all very heavy.” 

“James? Can I see your photo?” you ask. 

He squeezes you half to death in answer. 

[crypticminx]

nate w reader that has baby fever

Hi anon, this was fun lovey xx

Baby Fever with Nate Jacobs

Slight breeding kink mentioned but not rlly, ditzy reader, Nate being reasonable??

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა

“Nate”

“No.”

“But Nate—“

“Y/n, please.”

You stare at your now provoked boyfriend, who is frustratingly trying to get through his school work. He’s sat at his desk, his books messily sprawled across the surface of the smooth wood, textbook open and notebook filled with neat handwriting as he burns through each question. By this point, his mind is eagerly fighting to stay focused, but as long as you’re there in his bed beside him, he knows he won’t finish.

“Nate!” You yell again, this time biting your tongue from laughter as you can see his face grow red with tension.

“Y/n, I said no,” he runs his fingers through his hair, feeling like he can’t keep up with neither you or his homework. Defeat wasn’t an easy solution for him.

“But whyyy,” you whine as you turn off your phone and lay on your chest, your legs happily kicking away. Dressed in nothing but Nate’s oversized sweater and some knee high socks, he would be an absolute liar if he didn’t find you so desirably hot in this very moment.

But he also found the strength to maintain his composure with what little self respect he had for himself.

“Because we’re too young to have a fucking baby,” he sighs, stopping himself from raising his voice at you without the further intent of making you feel like you’ve done something wrong.

It doesn’t phase you though.

You roll your eyes, exaggerating the size of them as you huff in annoyance of your boyfriend being extremely noncompliant with your needy request.

In all fairness, it wasn’t your fault.

You were cute. Nate was really fucking cute. Thus, the rash realization that the two of you would definitely make cute babies.

“Okay so not now…,” you speak to him as if you’re trying to trick him. The way your voice trails with giddiness sets him to believe that whatever you’re conspiring isn’t going to be reasonable or ideally realistic.

He stares at you with a blank expression, his eyes don’t flash their usual sparkle and he seems rather unimpressed by how good you are at making him feel irked.

“Sooooo what about tomorrow?”

He slams his textbook down, the noise is loud and almost thunderous as you slightly jolt. Your smile fades as you can see he might actually be upset, but it didn’t make sense.

When the two of you got down to business, he praised you. He acted like he worshiped the very ground you walked on and treated you like a princess. He’d whisper things to you—very private, sentimental statements that made your heart flutter with an overwhelming sense of pride.

And now he was mad at you?

You cross your arms, trying not to let out all the steam burried inside your frustrations as he was quick to apologize.

“Babe, I’m sorry,” he groaned, rubbing his forehead as he took a seat next to you. He ran his fingers down your bare thigh, the smooth motion of his hands were enough to make you feel relaxed again, but he wasn’t off the hook.

“If you’re so sorry, why can’t you give me a baby…” you pout, tossing him a big frown that almost made him feel sorry for you.

He doesn’t know how to explain it, it seems you’re too cooped up in your own little fantasy world where having baby isn’t unrealistic and wouldn’t be a huge deal.

“Y/n,” he carefully plays with your hair, pushing a loose strand behind your ear to see the full extent of your face on display, however, you didn’t seem happy. “We’re in high school, how are we going to juggle having a baby?”

“Ugh,” you push him away, playfully of course, “don’t give me that talk, Nate.”

He shrugs his shoulders, letting his mind trail to the possibilities of getting you pregnant. and in all honesty, it didn’t seem too bad. He always wanted a child, but the timing and the moment just didn’t match up with that idea.

It would cause havoc, with both your family and his. He had no doubt about that as he could hear his fathers aggravating voice shout in his head, telling him how much of an awful father he would turn out to be. That alone was offputting.

“Don’t you wanna cum in me?”

And there you were, edging him with that soft voice of yours that knew how to get him riled up with heat. You bat your eyelashes, titling your head with a devious grin.

“Fill me up with your baby? I know you want to….Nate.” The words roll off your toungue as he fails to keep himself from melting away. He wants nothing more than to make you his—but would he ruin his life just to give you something that you want?

That would be something the two of you would find out—in a few months time.

[reiding-writing]

i need a part where cold!reader shows the team that she has some empathy and some “love” for them and spencer being like “see, i told you she’s not that bad and she cares about you guys” 🫶🏻

LOVE LANGUAGES — BAU TEAM!

you show your love for your team members in specifically unique ways.

bau team & cold!reader | 2.9k | fluff | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — did this request slightly differently, hope it holds up okay <3

Your carefully crafted distance from the team has always been intentional. You don’t do vulnerability. You don’t do sentimental. But lately, there have been… cracks. Small ones, barely noticeable—except to Spencer, apparently, who won’t stop grinning every time you let one slip.

── EMILY PRENTISS

Emily looks at you with barely concealed surprise, her lips slightly parted as she registers what you just said.

“You’ll—wait, you’ll cat-sit Sergio?”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, feigning nonchalance. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. I like cats.”

Emily scoffs, still clearly thrown off by the unexpected offer. “Uh-huh. Since when?”

You shrug, already regretting saying anything. “Since always.”

It’s a lie, at least partially. You don’t dislike cats, but that’s not why you offered. You overheard Emily talking about her sudden trip to London—something about an Interpol meeting, something she hadn’t planned for.

You’d also noticed the tension in her shoulders, the way she chewed her lip when she thought no one was looking.

She was stressed. And leaving Sergio behind clearly wasn’t helping.

You weren’t about to say any of that out loud, though.

Emily narrows her eyes at you, suspicious but amused. “You, the same person who groaned when I showed you pictures of him last week?”

“You were shoving them in my face,” you argue flatly. “Besides, I didn’t say I wanted to see cat pictures. I said I’d watch the cat. Big difference.”

She studies you for a long moment, then a slow smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. “Right. Well, thanks. I guess I owe you one,”

You shake your head. “Don’t get all sentimental. Just leave the food out and don’t expect updates.”

── DEREK MORGAN

The gun feels solid in your grip, familiar. The scent of gunpowder lingers in the air, mixing with the low hum of fluorescent lights overhead. You take a deep breath, steady your aim, and squeeze the trigger.

The shot lands, but not where you want it to.

You exhale sharply, lowering your weapon. It’s fine. It’s still a hit. But you don’t do "fine"—not in the field, and not here.

A deep chuckle comes from behind you. “You’re pulling to the right,”

You turn your head slightly, levelling an unimpressed look at Morgan, who’s leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, watching you like he’s been there for a while.

“I know,” you grumble, flicking the safety on and setting your gun down.

Morgan smirks. “Do you?”

You grit your teeth, already regretting what you’re about to say. But you didn’t come down here for nothing, and you sure as hell didn’t come down here to keep missing your mark.

So, with great reluctance, you inhale and say, “What am I doing wrong?”

Morgan blinks. You don’t think you’ve ever actually asked him for advice before—not like this. Sure, you’ve worked cases together, listened to his strategies, but asking him for genuine help? Yeah, no. That’s new.

He doesn’t gloat, though. Doesn’t tease. Instead, he pushes off the wall and steps closer, his expression shifting into something more focused. “Your stance is solid, but your grip’s a little too tight. You’re overcompensating—tensing up before the shot,”

You sigh, shifting your grip slightly. “That’s it?”

Morgan chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s not it. But it’s a start,”

He moves to stand beside you, his voice lowering into something instructional. “Try relaxing your shoulders a little. Let the gun do some of the work instead of fighting against it,”

You roll your eyes but do as he says, adjusting your posture. You take another shot. This time, it’s closer to where you want it.

“Huh,” you say begrudgingly.

Morgan grins. “See? I know what I’m talking about,”

You huff, setting the gun down again. “Don’t get used to this.”

He laughs. “Oh, trust me, I won’t hold my breath,”

As you pack up, Morgan gives you a look—not smug, not teasing. Just… knowing. Like he sees right through you.

You scowl. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, still grinning. “Just nice to see you’re capable of human emotion,”

You roll your eyes and walk out without another word.

── PENELOPE GARCIA

You don’t know why you let yourself get talked into this.

Actually, that’s a lie—you know exactly why. Garcia had been raving about some new "life-changing" snack all week, shoving it in everyone’s faces until they gave in and tried it.

You’d been dodging her persistence, fully prepared to hold out indefinitely, but then Spencer had given you that look. The one that practically screamed “Come on, you know you care,”

So, you ate the damn snack.

And you hated it.

Which is why you now find yourself marching towards Garcia’s office with the half-eaten package in hand, scowling.

When you step inside, she’s at her desk, surrounded by multiple screens filled with whatever classified magic she’s working on. She turns at the sound of the door, eyes lighting up when she sees you.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite emotionally constipated agent,” she sing-songs. Then she sees what’s in your hand and gasps. “Oh my God. Did you actually try it?”

You sigh and hold up the package. “Here. Take it. I hate it.”

Garcia doesn’t even pretend to be offended. She snatches it from your grasp with a delighted squeal. “You tried it!”

You cross your arms. “It was awful.”

She ignores your suffering entirely, beaming at you like you just did something miraculous. “But you tried it!”

“Under duress.”

“Doesn’t matter!” She’s grinning so wide it’s almost blinding. “You never do stuff like this! Oh, I’m so proud of you,”

You groan. “Garcia—“

“No, no, let me have this moment,” she interrupts, clutching the snack to her chest dramatically. “You trying something I recommended is like… a solar eclipse. Rare. Stunning. Possibly signalling the end of times,”

You roll your eyes, but something about her excitement makes it hard to be truly annoyed.

You’d never admit it, but you don’t actually mind seeing her this happy—especially knowing you had something to do with it.

── AARON HOTCHNER

The bullpen is quiet, most of the team having gone home for the night. The only sounds are the steady clicking of a keyboard and the occasional rustle of paper.

Hotch sits at his desk, brow furrowed in concentration, his desk lamp casting a dull glow over an intimidating stack of paperwork.

You could leave. Should leave. You don’t owe him anything.

And yet…

You sigh, stepping closer. “How much of that do you actually need to finish tonight?”

Hotch barely looks up. “All of it.”

You glance at the pile, then at him. He looks tired—not that it’s unusual, but tonight, the exhaustion sits deeper in his expression. You know for a fact that Jack is waiting for him at home.

You also know that if you walk away, Hotch will stay here until everything is done, no matter how late it gets.

You roll your eyes at yourself before speaking. “Give me half.”

That actually gets his attention. He pauses, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he looks at you with quiet surprise. “You want to help with paperwork?”

You scoff, grabbing a chair and pulling it up to his desk before you can change your mind. “Want is a strong word.”

Hotch watches you for a moment, probably trying to figure out what your angle is.

“You don’t have to—“

“I know,” you cut him off, already pulling a file toward you. “Just… home is boring. Might as well do something useful.”

It’s a terrible excuse, and by the look on Hotch’s face, he knows it. But to his credit, he doesn’t call you on it. Instead, he gives a small nod—one that almost looks approving—and hands you a pen.

The two of you work in silence, save for the scratching of pens against paper and the occasional click of a stapler. It’s oddly… peaceful.

Half an hour later, the stack is significantly smaller, and Hotch checks his watch before exhaling.

“You should go home,” you say before he can. “Jack’s waiting.”

He studies you for a long moment, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, he nods. “Thank you.”

You wave a hand dismissively, already looking at the next file. “Just go before I change my mind.”

Hotch smiles—genuinely smiles—before gathering his things. As he heads for the door, he stops just long enough to say, “Good night.”

You don’t look up. “Yeah, yeah. Go be a dad, Hotch.”

He leaves, and the room falls silent again.

── JENNIFER JAREAU

You’re not even sure why you remember.

It’s not like JJ ever made a big deal out of it. She’d mentioned it once in passing—Henry’s birthday, some little party she was planning.

You weren’t even paying that much attention at the time, but the date must’ve stuck somewhere in the back of your mind.

And now, here you are, standing in the store, staring at a wall of toys like an idiot.

You don’t know what kids like. You don’t do kids.

But after several agonising minutes and an internal debate that makes profiling serial killers seem easy, you finally settle on a small toy car set. It seems safe enough—not too flashy, not too complicated. Just… something.

The next morning, you leave it on JJ’s desk before she gets in. No note, no name. Just the box, wrapped neatly in plain paper with Henry’s name on it.

You don’t need the awkward thank-you’s. You don’t need the attention. You just…

You don’t know why you did it, really.

Maybe because Henry is part of JJ’s world, and—whether you want to admit it or not—JJ is part of yours.

You’re at your desk when JJ arrives, coffee in hand, looking exhausted as usual. You don’t watch her directly, but you see out of the corner of your eye as she stops short, eyes landing on the package.

She picks it up, frowning in confusion. Eyes the brown paper cautiously. And then—

“Oh.” Her voice is quiet, surprised.

You keep your eyes on your screen, pretending not to notice. Pretending it’s nothing.

Then—

“Who—?” JJ turns, scanning the room. You immediately busy yourself with a file, but you can feel her looking at you.

You don’t react. Don’t acknowledge it.

And because she’s a good profiler, because she knows, JJ just smiles to herself and doesn’t say a word.

But before she sits down, she murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear:

“Thank you,”

And that’s the end of it. No big deal. No fuss.

── DAVID ROSSI

“You can stop hovering by the door,” Rossi says without looking up, expertly mincing garlic at the counter. “You’re already here. Might as well commit,”

You scowl but step further inside, arms crossed. “I don’t know why I let myself get talked into this.”

“Because deep, deep down, you secretly like us,” he says, smirking. “And because you lost a bet to Garcia,”

You grunt, leaning against the counter. “I hate her.”

“You don’t.” Rossi gestures toward the cutting board. “Hand me the basil,”

You stare at him. “Do I look like an assistant?”

“You look like someone who’s standing in my kitchen doing nothing. Basil. Wash your hands first,”

With a dramatic sigh, you rinse off your hands in the sink, grab the basil, and hand it over.

He hums in approval as he starts chopping. “Fresh ingredients make all the difference. Jarred stuff works in a pinch, but a real sauce? Needs fresh garlic, fresh basil, quality tomatoes,”

You raise a brow. “You take this very seriously.”

“As seriously as you take keeping people at a distance,”

Your expression twitches, but before you can fire back, he nods toward the stove. “Grab the wooden spoon. Stir the sauce,”

You narrow your eyes. “Are you—are you putting me to work right now?”

“You’re in my kitchen, you follow my rules,” He smirks again. “Unless you’d rather sit with Spencer and Garcia in the living room,”

You scoff but pick up the spoon, giving the sauce a slow stir. The aroma fills the kitchen—tomatoes, garlic, a hint of red wine. You hate to admit it, but it smells… good.

Rossi watches you for a moment, then chuckles. “You know, most people would just eat the food. Not ask about how it’s made,”

You freeze for half a second before scoffing again. “I was not asking about it.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “Mmm. Sure,”

You keep stirring, refusing to rise to the bait. But you are paying attention—watching how he measures ingredients by instinct rather than precision, how he tastes the sauce directly from the spoon with no hesitation, how he hums in satisfaction when it’s just right.

It’s weirdly… fascinating.

By the time dinner is ready, you’ve somehow helped chop parsley and even grated some fresh parmesan. You tell yourself it was just to make things move faster—not because you enjoyed it.

Not because it felt oddly nice.

Later, after everyone eats and you’re lingering by the door, getting ready to leave, Rossi claps a hand on your shoulder.

“Not bad,” he says. “For a first-time sous-chef,”

You scoff. “This was a one-time thing, Rossi.”

“We’ll see,” His smirk is knowing. “Next time, maybe you’ll even roll the pasta,”

You roll your eyes and walk out.

── SPENCER REID

It starts with the coffee.

You always get to the office early—partly because you hate the idea of rushing, partly because mornings are quiet and no one expects much conversation from you before eight a.m.

Spencer is always there early, too. Whether it’s reading, reviewing files, or just avoiding traffic, you’re not sure. But without fail, when you step into the breakroom each morning, he’s already at the table, book in hand, eyes barely open like he’s just rolled out of bed.

So, one morning, you make a pitstop. Well, not really. You stop by the same coffee shop every day. But this time, you leave with two drinks instead of one.

You don’t say anything when you set his down next to him. You just place it there and take your own cup to your desk, acting as if nothing happened.

The next morning, you do it again.

And the next.

Spencer never comments on it. But one day, when you slide the cup next to his book, he just smiles softly and says, “Thank you.”

You don’t answer. You just take a sip of your own coffee, pretending like it’s nothing. But it isn’t nothing.

Then, there’s the jet.

Long flights, late nights, exhausted bodies slumped in seats. The team passes the time in their own ways—Morgan with his headphones, JJ and Emily whispering about their latest gossip, Rossi dozing off before the plane even takes off.

And then there’s you and Spencer.

You don’t remember when it started, but at some point, you ended up in the seats across from each other, both reading in silence.

Sometimes, it’s your pick. Sometimes, it’s his. He has a habit of finishing first and noting down important page numbers for you to focus on. You roll your eyes but take it anyway.

There’s no need for small talk. No need for explanation.

You just exist together, turning pages in the quiet hum of the plane.

One night, after a particularly grueling case, you’re back in the office late, finishing up reports. Most of the team has gone home, but Spencer is still at his desk, scribbling notes with his usual intensity.

You watch him for a moment before you speak.

“You should go home, Reid.”

He glances up, blinking at you. “So should you,”

You scoff but say nothing.

Spencer tilts his head slightly, studying you the way only he can. The way that tells you he already knows what you won’t say.

He smiles—small, but warm.

“You like spending time with me,”

It’s less of an accusation than it is an observation. Like pointing out when you see a bird in a park.

You don’t roll your eyes. Don’t scoff or deflect or throw something at him like you do when he’s being particularly smug.

Because, for once, you don’t feel like pretending.

So instead, you just take a sip of your coffee, glance back at your report, and say,

“Yeah. I do.”

[goldsbitch]

the last time I pick you up

Moving blues hits hard. Y/N and Lando are finally letting go of her old apartment, which brings out strong emotions, that you need to burn out somehow.

warning: smut, no protection

It's been long time coming - finally moving together after countless times of flipping a coin to determine which apartment you and Lando would spend your free hours and sometimes even days.

His place was spacious and the location was obviously the biggest asset. But god, was it close to an empty wasteland. True "lad's" apartment, up to a point you were surprised he had a bed (without a bed frame, of course...). Your place was a true home - decorations, pillows, candles and full stacked skincare. Even though it lacked in size and the plumbing was more than questionable, it had a soul and you'd poured loved into your rented apartment over the time you'd spend there.

However, it was becoming clear that your relationship stable and secure enough to get rid of one side of the logistics equation that was dating a racing driver.

So, moving it was. They say moving is one of the most stressful mundane experience in one's life and you couldn't agree more. You were stripped of the usual duties, because Lando insisted about him paying for premium movers and you didn't object for more than 30 seconds.

But the sentimental "last visit" is something you can't pay someone to do for you. The walk through the memory lane was all up to you.

After few hours you were almost done sorting things out into two piles, one would join you in Lando's apartment, the other one was being left behind for someone else to get over to a charity shop.

When Lando finally came to pick you up, he found you sitting on the floor, knee deep in the cocktail of conflicting emotions.

"Baby? You here?" he called before entering the living room. You looked up at him, weak tears rolling in you eyes, unable to speak at first.

Lando stopped when he saw you, surprised at finding you sitting on the floor like that and then immediately went to sit sit next to you and hug you.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked, half concerned, half confused.

You tried to surpress the wet drops in your eyes. This was stupid anyway, right? After few moments of Lando's confused look and his hand on your cheek, you finally looked back at him.

"This is the last time you pick me up here," you said in a low tone and it was like you took the lid of your memories.

The first night he spent here, the first one you talked through, unable to stop the conversation, the many nights he fucked you senselessly and hours spent cuddling under the bedsheets.

The way how this apartment provided you a safe space in the first weeks when you dated, hidden safely from the harsh judgy look the public imposed on you so cruelly at the beginning.

You got to know him here. Waited impatiently many times for his key to finally click in the front door, his tired post-race face, often still holding marks from his helmet, because he would jump on the plane the first thing, just get back to you for few hours. You remember how you laughed, when he insisted on installing his weird neck exercise device, because it meant he could spend more time with you. He tried to teach you how to assist him, and then laughed at you, because you were just so naturally bad at this stuff.

You recall the one afternoon when you came back from a meeting and found him sitting in your bathtub, which was filled up with slowly melting ice-cubes. His argument was, that he needed a post work out ice bath and there was nothing like that around where you lived. This time it was you who laughed, when you saw how much ice he had to buy. Lando was a cheeky guy, so once he got out of the ice bath, he chased you around your apartment, naked, with the intention to snuggle you into his cold, icy embrace.

Lando was taken back by the glassy look in your stoic face. "I know. But, if you look at it from a different perspective, this is the last time I pick you up. From now on, we'll be meeting at our home." He spoke slowly, perhaps to make his words more impactful.

You smiled, knowing well enough that was the best part of it. Still, the melancholy lingered in stronger way then you'd have ever expected.

"No more of that weird lady upstairs who always gave me angry looks after I fucked you hard," he tried to lighten up the mood, which worked and you let out a snort laugh while wiping small tears from your cheeks.

"Yeah, I am definitely not going to miss that," you said, yet still there was a sense of leaving a part of your life behind, a part that you would adorn for the rest of your life. The only hope you had that you and Lando would be able to continue on making priceless memories anywhere the two of you were.

"Y/N, I think it's time to finish sorting the stuff out and grab something to eat. We can go that favorite café of yours," he suggested after few moments of silence.

You took a deep breath. "Yes, I'd love that," you turned to him and gave a light peck on his lips. Lando immediately turned that into a deep french kiss, which took you by surprise a little. He was never a words person and you could finally feel from the way how he kissed you so eagerly, that he was also emotional about this move.

"You're the love of my life," you said the signature sentence you two developed naturally, instead of saying a simple I love you.

"And you're mine," he responded with the signature assurance that followed that sentence.

//

The two of you slowly arrived to the point where most of the stuff was sorted, decisions were made and it was time to say goodbye.

A shock of sudden anxiety ran through you. "Lando. I still don't have the necklace." He knew well enough which one you were talking about. It was the first one he ever gave you and one that you held so dearly that it made him proud. But still, in his eyes it was just an object. One that you misplaced and could not find for weeks now.

"It's probably at my apartment anyway," he said, trying to let you go of it. He already had a replacement ordered anyway.

"Let me just check under the bed. Haven't looked there yet," you said and strolled over to the now stripped bed. He watched you, as you bent over in your cute summer dress that casually showed the curve of your ass as you searched under the bed. There was something so primal for him about seeing you like that.

"Y/N, you know this is a very dangerous move from your part, right?" he said, leaning over the door frame and enjoying the view.

"Come on, Lando," you laughed, as you desperately kept looking for the necklace, with no luck whatsoever. "This is serious."

"Oh, I never said anything different," he smirked, letting his thoughts run into one place and one place only.

"Omg, Lando!" you screamed, in a very different tone, alerting him immediately.

"What?" he asked, tuning into your worry. You got up with a horrified face, as if you'd just seen a ghost. Unable to speak, you just stared at him.

"What?" he repeated, less seriously this time. Knowing you, it must have been nothing.

"Oh my god, I am going to get in so much trouble with the landlord!"

He looked at you sheepily. "Do I have to look there myself or are you going to tell me?"

You closed your eyes. "The floor is like severely damaged. We're talking like, deep marks. Under all of the corners of the bed."

It took him a second to get the dots connected before his eyes went wide and the smarted smug appeared on his face. "Really?" he said proudly. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. He sneaked around you and took a quick look under the nearest bed corned.

"Ohoo, nice!," he laughed, even more proud than before. "This is from us, right?"

His smugness was a little contagious, you had to admit it. "Of course, who else Lando. In fact, that's your damage, so you're paying for it!"

He choked, taking few steps towards you. "Oh am I?"

You bit your lip, as he closed of your exit with his right arm, putting on the door frame and pushing you towards it. "Yes, you are...It's from you moving the bed."

The mood changed really quickly. You knew the look in his face well enough. He was shooting arrows, making your heartbeat faster, breath shorter and mind suddenly focused on one thing and one thing only. Having him, all the way in, wrapped around and inside of you. He pulled your chin up with his thumb and subconsciously mirror your lip biting. At this point, you were completely pushed to the door frame, his torso pulling into your. "Well, if I'm already paying for damages, I think I deserve to make it count, one last time," he said and moved his hand over to your chest, causing you to let out a breath out. He knew well enough what kind of an effect he had on you. Few moments of painfully arousing eye contact and you finally put your hands behind his neck and kissed him again. With the energy only young adults have, he twisted his tongue with yours, bit your lip gently and in the meantime picked you up and moved you the short distance over to the bed. Your thoughts were all wrapped up around how great his body felt, how his intoxicated smell completely clouded your mind and how you'll get to have him on this old bed of yours for one last time.

He didn't even bother taking your dress off, he just pushed it up and started working you up with his fingers. This high he gave you was a familiar ground at this point. And most possibly your absolutely most favorite place on this planet. While sharing messy kisses and loosing yourself in the growing pleasure, you went to unbuckle his belt and stroke him slowly. He didn't wait long before he pulled back to take his shorts off and you finally had full access. You stroked him few times, before he pinned your arms above your head. "My bills, my playground," he said and his hands began to roam your body all the way down to the hem of your dress. He didn't even bother taking your underwear off, just pushed it to the side and slid into you, like he had hundreds times before. Flashes of the countless encounters you've had on this bed flashed like a film in your mind. You loved this man. He was the ultimate drug for you. Intoxicating above levels you could have ever imagined. If there ever was a home, if was right there - with him inside you. He pushed slowly few times before finally slamming into you full speed, full force, knowing well enough it was what you craved anyway. Hot breath was only cut with the symphony your soft moans and sounds the squeaky bed made. Lando held your legs pressed up to your stomach, while you hugged your chest, making your tits pushed up for him to kiss occasionally. You reached your high twice before he released himself onto your dress and collapsed next to you. Short of breath, the two of you still kissed. "Sorry for the dress," he said apologetically and you had to laugh a little. For this feeling you'd stain anything you ever owned.

"I know you have a thing for leaving traces behind, baby," you replied, being guilty of using this little kink of his to your advantage many times in the past.

He bit his lip and brushed his nose agains yours. "Guilty as charged."

Your breath was slowly coming back to a regular tempo. "I should get changed before we go," you said, intent on leaving soon.

His hand locked you in as he traced lined on your hips. "Let's stay just a little. I'm going to miss the way how we made this bed squeaky over time," he said, making you smile and blush.

[radiance1]

Jack was an inventor. A hunter. A walking tank of a man who could intimate anyone he wanted to if he weren't such a joyful man.

Daniel was not.

He was short, thin, calm and composed where his father was the sun. He was not a hunter, nor an inventor.

Talia was an assassin. A living, walking weapon. Impossible to notice footsteps. The eyes of a predator and all the grace of one moving in for the kill.

Daniel was not.

He was a failed heir. A less refined weapon than his mother. Footsteps heavy and loud compared to his mother. The eyes of a cold, dead fish with no life and nothing left to give.

He did not know it at the time but.

Daniel was a doctor. Someone that saved people. Mended broken bodies. Always carrying something to help. Nothing but medical knowledge rolling around in his head and the desire to save. Life saver.

Damian was the successful heir. Son of Bruce Wayne. Quiet footsteps. The eyes of a predator. Body trained to perfection. A master of the sword. Life taker.

A success, where he failed.

A battle of heirs. An outcome already decided, already known, already foreseen.

There should've only been one.

And indeed, there was none but one.

In spite of his loss, his failure, he was not exterminated as he thought he should have been. He was instead placed in the pits, the water mending his broken body not for the first time, then taken out, and found himself alongside his mother.

That was the last time he saw of her, and his brother. Only a scar where his brother would have killed him, refusing to be healed, left behind in remembrance.

He then found himself with a family. His father's family. Daniel knew of his father, a genius inventor who could build a great many things from scraps of metal, a gene that, while respected, was not what the League wanted.

It was a fling, and nothing more.

He gained a new mother and a sister. Inserted into a family who welcome him with open arms, yet already had their own dynamics that they practiced from time to time, and he always found himself at a loss when they try to fit him in them in some way.

Then, when he turned ten years of age, a year without seeing hide nor hair of his mother and brother. Came a man, Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters was confident, self-assured. Well trained. Having money to spend in spades and spades yet making all that and more. The eyes of someone who thought themselves better than most, eyes of a snake, a spider, slowly waiting for something to take the bait.

Despite all of this, a certain sense of loneliness seemed to hang around him like an ever-present cloud. Something Danny only realized was there, when he caught the man broken down.

Daniel did not know how to feel of Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters did not like his father, even though he seemed to treat his mother like an old friend, the same way his father treated him. He seemed both fond and somewhat off put by his sister, Jasmine Fenton.

Daniel finds himself respecting and sympathizing with that sentiment.

Jasmine Fenton was nice. Social. Unaware of her unconscious ability to think herself superior. Thinks she is often right. Does not like to be wrong. Likes to think things through.

Likes to peer inside of someone's head.

Daniel does not like that. Vlad does not like it either.

But she is nice, good intentioned, his sister. So he will overlook it. She is also Vlad's goddaughter, and so he too, will overlook that trait of hers.

Daniel was not interested in a great many things. He was not fond of swordsmanship, even though he was ruthlessly trained in it. He was not fond of building like his father, not as fond as running calculations to make inventions work like his mother, was not fond of, and while a useful ability, peering into the heads of others.

He was, however, found of what he found in Vlad Masters' basement. Something he believes was to be kept secret, yet found anyway.

He was unsure of how much time he spent occupied with what he found, time spent with eyes that only blinked when they were forced to because of dryness.

Time that was cut, when the owner of said basement, found him.

Curiously enough, he did not throw him out, and Danny did not notice him when exactly the man got there, nor how long he was there, until he made himself known.

He offered to teach Daniel of the knowledge he so sought, and Daniel only took a few seconds to accept the hand outstretched to him.

Four years. Four years did Daniel study under Vlad Masters, growing his understanding of the human body, watching how exactly to hold a scalpel properly, how to use certain equipment, what exactly to do that would let the human body heal without changing anything too much.

How to help, how to save lives. What to use to cut away pain, and help those in need.

A way to repent for every inch of blood on his small hands, was what Daniel saw.

Vlad Masters did not often make mistakes. His every move was far too calculated for such a thing. But he does, in rare cases, make mistakes.

One of them, was how Daniel found out about his unique biology. Vlad Masters was something called a halfa, a mix between the undead and living, a ghost and human.

It reminded him, not for the first time since he came to live in Amity Park, just how much ectoplasm reminded him of Lazarus Water. Yet he could tell, knew they were different due to various factors.

He wondered if he should try and write to his mother about this, more than once.

He did not.

After his 14th birthday, Vlad said that there was not much more he could teach him. Daniel soaked up all the knowledge given to him like a sponge, and retained all of it easily.

As a jest, he was told that he was allowed to pick a new name because of this.

He thought it was serious.

So he chose Danny. A name that came from one the rare, soft moments between him and his elder brother. Where he could not yet pronounce his name properly, before he underwent correction, a time where both of them were all smiles and no blood on their hands.

Danny.

The rift between Vlad Masters and Jack Fenton somehow, without his notice, closed. They were acting as if they were the best of friends, more so his father than Vlad Masters, and they became a functioning family with their odd little quirks.

When he turned 15, he went to Gotham. He was living with his sister while she attended college there, he did not want to go to school, so he did not.

It took many a time of convincing for them to finally allow it.

Danny did not know Gotham. He knew of it. He knew this to be the home of his brother's father, Bruce Wayne, that it was the city with the most crime, the city home to a notorious number of villains.

The city under watch and protected by Batman.

But not much more than that. He did not care for his brother's father, for whatever legacy he had fell only to his brother to fulfil. He hoped his brother achieved what he wished for.

Back then, and still today.

He wandered the streets of Gotham when Jazz was occupied. Familiarizing himself with the environment and finding out what was where and where is that.

Not for the first time, he found injured, and not for the first time, he treated them free of charge.

He had more than enough money to resupply himself, thanks to his mentor filling his account with money every month.

He gained a bit of a reputation, that child with a far too large lab coat. Dead fisheyes, a wandering doctor who treats anyone injured he came across. Though his reputation was small, having recently just came to Gotham.

One day, curiously enough, he found something new in his endless days of wandering.

A boy dead on his feet, covered in dirt, a ruined suit and looking like he just pulled himself out of a grave crossing the street, unaware of the car speeding towards him.

He was hit, and somehow landed in front of Danny.

He crunched down on his lollipop, throwing the stick through the air and into a nearby trashcan without looking while opening another and placing it in his mouth.

He took the boy home in what a normal person would essentially call a kidnapping,

He did not know how the boy, older than him, survived the trip back to his home. But he wasn't going to complain about it. He entered a room, one filled with medical equipment, the best that could be offered, and placed his mystery guest one of many beds.

He treated him as best as he could, then left to go get something to eat.

He still stuck to his wandering, but he regularly checked in on his guest. A week later, and the boy was awake, sitting up in his bed when Danny opened the door to check on him.

He introduced himself as Jason Todd.

Then he disappeared for some time, and the bed that held him for a week was empty.

Sometime later, he heard of Red Hood.

He did not know what to think of the gunslinger in red, and what his stake in the politics of Gotham would be. He didn't exactly care for the politics, so he stayed away from it.

He did not know why the Red Hood held good will towards him, considering they have not met before. But he was claimed to be under his 'protection' for reasons unknown.

The reason, he found out, after carrying the man to his home (it was a bit of struggle, but Danny was the son of Jack Fenton, and took after him in strength as well, although to a lesser degree), placed him in one of many beds, and found out his identity.

Red Hood was Jason Todd, a patient he had not seen for some time now turned lord of crime.

It was a bit surprising, but not something that mattered.

Perhaps it should have, when he found himself sitting across from the protectors of the night who decided to invite themselves into the house alongside his sister with a Red Hood that looked like he was none too pleased by this situation.

And a brother he had not seen in many a year.

[ddodol]

acting up — j.sc

one shot ⭑.ᐟ synopsis ⭑.ᐟ date nights with sungchan are always fun when there's a bit of mischief. content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, bf!sungchan, brat fem!reader, petnames, spanking, overstimulation, creampie, slight exhibitionism mentions, sungchan is a bit mean but we all love that for him <3. word count⭑.ᐟ 3.7k+

a/n; belated happy birthday sungchan

⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

you were feeling particularly evil tonight.

you and sungchan agreed on a little date, nothing too fancy but you decided that you wanted to dress up. you giggle as you twirl around in front of your mirror, satisfied with the way the tight dress hugged your body. sungchan would love seeing you like this, perhaps a bit too much.

it didn’t take long for sungchan to knock at your door, the poor boy still clueless about the thoughts running through your pretty little head. you try to maintain the mischievous grin you have on your face, fixing up your make up one last time before running to the front door. you take a deep breath, already prepared to act all innocent.

as soon as the door opened, sungchan only had a second to react, face already dropping at the mere sight of you. the white silk dress hugged your curves in all the right places. it barely covered anything— not your chest nor your back. you were all exposed for him.

sungchan swallowed thickly, taking you all in. you were just too inviting that he’s starting to think that the dinner date was just a ruse.

”fuck,” he whispered, hand gripping tightly on the pretty bouquet he took the time choosing.

you smile at him, happily taking the bouquet from his hands before he snaps them in half. “wanna come in for a bit? i’m still not done getting ready.” that was funny because sungchan already thought you were a fucking goddess.

like you predicted, sungchan hovered around you, watching you intently as you brush absolutely nothing on your face. you were trying so hard not to laugh, shoulders trembling slightly as you apply lip gloss for the second time. you could see sungchan through your mirror, eyes fixated on your ass.

nothing could go wrong with a little show, right?

”oh, fuck,” you mutter softly, accidentally dropping your lipstick on the ground. it didn’t drop too far so all you had to do was bend over and pick it up, it was so simple. you could hear sungchan groaning from behind you, his pretty face all troubled as he watched your every move.

satisfied and with your lipstick in hand, you continue with your routine. you were so sure sungchan would be patient throughout your dinner date, and that you’d get the best night of your life later. though that didn’t mean sungchan would share the same sentiment.

”princess, is it fun?” you jump up when you heard sungchan’s voice from behind you, body already trembling in response. oh, you wanted him so bad. he looked gorgeous tonight with his hair slicked back; you just wanted to sit on his lap and mess it all up.

sungchan was right behind you, eyeing you through the mirror. you smelled so sweet and tempting, your scent filling his senses as he pressed you against the bathroom counter. sungchan let out a small groan, bulge pressing against your plush ass.

”is fucking with me that fun, baby?” you gasp softly, feeling sungchan’s warm hands on your waist. he looked at you through the mirror, jaws clenching as he leaned down to whisper to your ear. “do you want to get fucked that badly?” you shuddered, legs already trembling at how good he sounded when he’s all pissed.

you tried to feign innocence, smiling at him, “what do you mean?”

you were so sure sungchan snapped right then and there. he grabbed your ass, slipping his hands underneath the little dress you had on. the more he moved his fingers around your skin the more he noticed that something was missing, he looked down, pushing your dress up to see that you weren’t wearing panties.

you bite your lip at the prolonged silence, already feeling like you were in danger. “c-channie?”

sungchan frowns at you, bringing his hand up before landing it on your ass, the loud slap echoing throughout your bathroom. you managed to catch yourself in time, covering your mouth before you cried out.

”channie, wait!”

he shakes his head, already in the process of unbuckling his belt. “baby, if you’re gonna act up like this, you should deal with the consequences,” you bite your lip, feeling his heavy, throbbing cock against your ass.

you didn’t want to fight back, already just as needy even though you were the one that did the teasing. sungchan seems to have caught on to this though, deciding that he’d take his time for you— it’s only fair after all. “princess,” he whispered, voice all gentle again.

”y-yeah?” you whimper out pathetically, huge eyes staring at him in anticipation.

“your tits are spilling out of your dress, did you plan on going out like this?” you gasp softly, feeling his hands pressing on your breasts, not taking much for them to pop out of your dress. sungchan chuckles, licking his lips as you moan over him fondling your tits.

”feeling good already?” he asked teasingly, pulling on your nipples, “that’s not good, this is meant to be punishment.” you cry out, nipples already feeling sore from having them pulled and squeezed roughly. sungchan slapped them lightly, smiling at how they’d bounce around. you choked out a cry, leaning forward as your legs were about to give in.

sungchan leaned against your neck, leaving a small kiss, “what if i just took you here? it’ll be easier to clean up, right? it'll be better than fucking you at the restaurant, no?” you shuddered, body already heating up at the mere thought.

“please,” you whined, pushing your dress up even more to reveal your ass properly.

he smiled deviously, “fuck yourself on me, princess.”

you stared at sungchan through the mirror, head feeling light at the smile on his face. sungchan was always so good to you, prioritizing your needs over his and that also applied to the bedroom. you should know better than to piss him off but you just can’t help it, he always reacts so well.

you’ve only ever pissed sungchan off once before, unintentionally, and you found yourself pinned against a wall at some public bathroom, completely overstimulated and sensitive as he thrusted you onto his cock. you always think back to that moment, wondering what else would mess him up enough to do that to you again.

now that you’ve had your answer, you couldn’t stop trembling in excitement, walls already clenching as you push your ass against his cock. “channie,” you whine, gasping softly when you felt his hand grabbing your ass. sungchan spanked your ass once more, making you cry out weakly.

”if you’re good, i’ll fuck you as much as you want later.” you bit your lip, shaky hand reaching back to hold his cock, guiding it against your entrance. you let out a purr, loving how stretched you were feeling, walls fluttering around sungchan’s cock.

“god, so tight, princess,” sungchan groaned, gripping on your ass as you slowly sink yourself against his cock. he spread your cheeks apart, drawing out a moan as you swallow him inside.

you began to move slowly, moans dragging out with each movement. fucking yourself on sungchan made your head spin, ass bouncing against his hips. he stood still, chuckling at how you moved clumsily on his cock.

“you know that’s not how i fuck you, princess. fuck me like you mean it,” he leaned in to whisper against your ear, leaving you whimpering at how deep he was reaching in that position.

”i can’t do it, sungchan,” you whined, “i want it deeper!”

sungchan laughs at your pathetic whining, giving your ass a small slap, “try harder, princess.” you cried out, legs trembling as you continued to move your hips clumsily. it wasn't the ideal position to be fucking yourself on his cock, not when you wanted him deeper.

“sungchan, please,” you whined once more, walls fluttering around his cock in a last ditch effort to convince him.

sungchan leaned in, pressing your body down the counter and caging you in between his arms. “move and be a good girl for me,” you whimpered when he growled against your ear, eliciting a small chuckle from him when your walls clenched.

“move for me, baby. show me how much you want it,” he whispered, urging you even more as he nibbled on your ear.

you tried your best, whimpering with every thrust. there wasn’t much you could do except grind on his cock now that sungchan left no space between the two of you.

your walls kept clenching down on him, finding a way to pleasure yourself without having to move. you rolled your hips against his, moaning softly as your arousal pooled in your stomach. you could still feel him deep inside, whimpering at how his tip kept rubbing on your sweet spots whenever you’d grind down on him.

”please, please, please—” you kept murmuring over and over, voice getting higher and whinier as you trembled. soon enough, you came on his cock, strangling out a quiet cry as you pressed your body against the counter.

“fuck, are you serious?” sungchan mumbled, growling against your ear when your walls clenched down on him. “did you just cum, princess?” you rested your head against the counter, shoulders heaving as you quiver from your climax. it wasn’t exactly a satisfying release but it was all you could manage.

sungchan was amused for a split second but he immediately masked it with a stern expression. ”you’d really rather cum like this instead of admitting that you did something bad?” he whispered against your ear before pressing hot kisses down your neck. you felt your body heating up once more, whining as you grind your hips on his.

”i didn’t,” you whined, “i didn’t do anything bad. you like it anyway.” sungchan couldn’t help but laugh, his touch finally becoming gentler. he massaged your ass, soothing the red marks he left on you earlier.

”i know, i love it a lot,” he smiled, kissing your jaw affectionately. no matter how much you acted up, sungchan was always so forgiving of you and you were sure tonight wouldn’t be any different. “that dinner date’s still on the table though, i went through hell to get that reservation.” you chuckled weakly, turning your head to glance at him.

he leaned back to pull his cock out slowly, leaving you to think that you two were done for now. sungchan stared down at where you two were connected, watching his cock slip out of you, his length completely soaked in your juices.

you unwittingly pushed yourself off the counter, fixing your dress up as he pulled out. you could feel his tip almost slipping out, only to be taken by surprise when he plunged deep inside without warning. a choked cry left your swollen lips, legs trembling from the sudden stimulation. you almost came. one thrust from sungchan almost made you came and it drove you crazy.

”sungchan, baby, please,” you whimpered, gripping on the edge of the counter as you looked at him through the mirror. you were a complete mess at this point, your perfect appearance from earlier now flushed and smudged.

sungchan tutted at your complaints, pulling out once more before slamming back inside, pushing you forward at the impact. he could feel your walls convulsing around his cock, grinning at how easy it was to please you. he repeated the motion a few more times until you were trembling uncontrollably, smiling in satisfaction.

”you know, princess,” he leaned in, pushing deep inside you as he does, “i know exactly what you’re trying to do.” you shuddered, biting back your noises as he thrusted shallowly, penetrating your deepest walls. sungchan catching on only meant that it’s going to be more torturous for you.

”come on, i wanna see how ruined i could get you before our date,” sungchan smiled at you, eyes glinting deviously as he stared back at your reflection. you gasped softly, already bracing yourself for what’s next.

”w-wait! we only have thirty minutes left! the drive is—” you almost bit your tongue from how hard he pounded into you. your body was pressed against the now warm marble counter, arousal dripping down your leg.

the sound of wet noises and skin slapping echoed in your bathroom, slowly driving you to the brink of insanity. “s-sungchan! i’m sorry! i wasn’t— i just wanted to mess with you!” you rambled on, breathing heavily.

sungchan chuckled, tongue poking his cheek as he watched your ruined reflection. he reached forward to hold your face still as he continued his brutal pace. forced you to look at yourself in the mirror, whimpering as your walls clenched down on him.

“you look so pretty when you’re all flushed like this,” he smiled, pressing soft kisses on your shoulder. ”give me more, princess. i know you can make prettier noises than this.”

you let out a yelp when he spanked your ass once again, mind going blank when you felt his cock kissing your deepest spot. “let go, princess— give me what i want,” sungchan whispered, his deep voice echoing in your spinning mind.

your legs were trembling, feet barely touching the ground as sungchan kept pounding into you, driving you up the counter with each frantic thrust. you cried his name out loud, whimpering apologies as he continued to spank your ass.

”that’s it, baby. i got you,” sungchan cooed, smiling against your skin. he placed soft kisses all over your shoulder, a huge contrast to the way he was fucking you. he held your waist, keeping you up while his other hand snaked up to play with your tits.

the sound of your moans echoed throughout the bathroom. the addicting noises you were making was slowly getting to him, sungchan’s soft features contorting in pleasure as you clenched down on his throbbing length. he could tell that you were close with the way your body was tensing up and from your ragged breathing, your sweet voice was also starting to get whinier— every single detail about you was filling up his senses and it drove him insane.

”sungchan, i’m so close. fuck— please, channie,” you whimpered, afraid that he’d impulsively deny you your orgasm considering how differently he was acting all night.

he pressed kisses down your nape, hands gently massaging your waist as he plunged deep inside, hot breath fanning over your skin. “don’t worry, just trust me and let go, princess.”

you closed your eyes shut, body tensing up as your orgasm washed over you in waves, walls spasming around his cock. sungchan held you close, thrusting gently as you rode out your high. he winced at how tight you were, pressing his body on top of yours as you breathed softly.

”just a bit more, okay?” sungchan panted, hips starting to move once more. you whined loudly, clawing on his hand as he cupped your tits, fondling them gently. he moaned against your ear, mumbling apologies when you begin to cry out from oversensitivity.

”sungchan,” you cried, feeling like an overstimulated mess. sungchan gripped on your thigh, lifting it up against the edge of the counter as he continued to pound into you.

he kept pressing soft kisses against your neck, whispering praises at how good you were for him, all for him— his words always made you feel like a puddle, laying your body against the counter and taking it all to satisfy him. “that’s it, princess. you feel so fucking good right now,” he breathed out, hips stuttering from how close he was.

sungchan held you even tighter, leaving marks on your skin. “i’m close, princess,” he groaned, “take it all, yeah? every single drop, like the good girl you are.”

you whimpered in response, head spinning from oversensitivity, slick walls milking his cock with each thrust, curses kept rolling off his tongue. he buried his face against your neck, taking a deep breath of your sweet perfume as he thrusted deep inside one last time. sungchan shot out thick ropes of his cum, coating your walls as he crashed down on your back.

the two of you were shuddering from your release, panting heavily. sungchan kissed your skin languidly, dragging his plump lips around. he whispered quiet praises against your skin, smiling at the goosebumps that popped up right after.

”you’re so adorable,” he mumbled, patting your head fondly. sungchan pulled away from you, helping you get up from the counter.

you could barely stand, let alone walk, shooting a pitiful glance at sungchan. he just chuckled, continuing to help you fix up your dress. satisfied, he smiled at your reflection through the mirror, “there we go.”

sungchan held your waist, pulling you close, “we have time left, right?” he teasingly drew small circles on your back, enjoying the way you’d flinch and try to squirm away from his grasp.

”i can’t go out like this, channie,” you admitted, pouting at him. before you even knew it, sungchan had guided you outside, ignoring your protests as he helped you get settled inside his car. once he got inside, he smiled at you, one filled with mischief.

”you wanted to act up before our date, i’m just giving you what you would've gotten.” you frowned at him, watching as he happily started the engine.

this date was about to be uncomfortable— his cum still inside you, no panties, legs weak and skin flushed. sungchan glanced at you, chuckling at your state.

he leaned in for a brief second, brushing a small kiss against your cheek. “i keep telling you, princess— if you’re good, i’ll treat you well.”

you pouted, crossing your arms as you looked out the window. you knew these were the consequences of your own actions but you hated how things didn't go as you planned. you were fully prepared to just call it and lay down on your bed, but this was a date that you also looked forward to having.

sungchan couldn’t help but laugh at how you were sulking on the side, pulling up soon as you arrived at your destination. you were relieved to see that there weren’t much people tonight, legs still feeling like jelly, trembling even while you sat down.

like the gentleman he always is, sungchan opened the car door for you, holding out a hand for you to hold on to. you happily took his hand, gripping on it to support yourself up. he smiled, quickly wrapping an arm around you and sneaking a small kiss on your temple.

his lips lingered on your skin for some time before slowly trailing down to graze your red ears, “i promise you we’ll be quick this time.”

you snapped your head towards him, eyes wide and cheeks flushed when you got what he was implying. sungchan just smiled, giving your ass a quick squeeze before leading you towards the bathroom.

needless to say, you now know better than to intentionally mess with sungchan— not when he made you sit down for your dinner date like normal, as if his cum wasn’t dripping down your legs as you dined.

you glanced at him curiously, his lips were swollen and red with your lipstick staining it. sungchan's skin was glowing radiantly, as if he was announcing your little bathroom affair from earlier to everyone in the room. you cleared your throat, embarrassment washing over you.

he noticed the look on your face, grinning mischievously. “what? got something on my face?” you rolled your eyes, prompting a small bout of laughter from him. he looked over your features once more, eyes filled with fondness as he settled down.

”i feel like i haven’t said it enough but i think you look absolutely breathtaking tonight.” you blushed at the compliment, putting all your focus on the plate in front of you because of how flustered you were feeling.

”don’t worry, i know. i could tell from all of that,” you coughed softly, almost choking on your food as sungchan laughed once again.

having his eyes on you, especially after being intimate, always made you shy. sungchan has always been expressive, you could tell what he’s thinking even if he doesn’t vocalize it— which he still does anyway just to rub it in.

sungchan chuckled again, taking in your figure in that pretty silk dress you wore for him. it was regrettable that he couldn’t help himself from leaving marks all over your shoulders and back, since now you were all covered up with his white blazer. he tilted his head, trying to take a peek at the small red mark he left on the side of your neck, smiling mischievously at how pretty it looked on you.

”sungchan,” you raised a brow, staring at him weirdly. he just smiled sheepishly before sitting up straight.

it was silent for a few minutes, sungchan let you finish your food before speaking up once again. as soon as you set your utensils down, he leaned in, “i wonder if people are staring at me or if it’s because of that mark i just left on your neck.”

you quickly covered yourself up with his blazer, staring back at him wide wide eyes and flushed cheeks. sungchan laughed softly, reaching out to hold your hand.

”that’s not fair, princess,” he smiled teasingly, bringing your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles, “if you keep acting this adorable, i’d want to punish you even more like earlier.”

you shuddered, shaking your head frantically.

an impulsive little prank shouldn’t become your norm, you refused to. sungchan just chuckles against your hand, pressing a soft kiss on your wrist. “mm, maybe not, then,” he smiles at you, rubbing his swollen lips against your skin.

”you know you’re the one that set this kind of mood up for tonight, right?” you pouted. you knew he was right, and that annoyed you. it wasn’t like you regretted doing what you did— in fact, you were glad you did, enjoying the reaction you managed to draw out of him.

you traced small circles on his hand, glancing at him as an idea formulated in your pretty little head. sungchan seems to have caught on as well, grinning widely as he waited for you to speak.

"channie," you purred, "wanna grab the tab and just get out of here?"

sungchan laughs at your proposal, bringing your hand up to press another kiss on it, "i thought you'd make me wait another hour, princess."

"and maybe, just maybe— you can have what you had in mind earlier, yeah? before i ruined it," he suggests, eyes filled with mischief as shivers ran down your spine.

you knew tonight wasn't going to be easy for your poor body, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

[strangesthirdeye]

I'M HIS- {SEVERUS SNAPE X WIFE! READER}

Summary: When cat is finally out of the bag Warning: IT'S SEVERUS SNAPE! WE'RE ALL LOVE HIM! Fluff, low angst, gentle, wounds, blood, not so major injuries, Order of the Phoenix, mentioned of kill, Death Eater, swearing, LOVELY man, OOC Severus Snape? Fluff, love, marriage, As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆���. ───

"The Death Eater is getting more violent"

"They just want to show that they are back.. The Dark Lord is back" Said Sirius, hands crossed in front of him. He looked at Remus.

"And yet they are trying to bring back some old Death Eaters and recruiting some new Death Eaters." Remus muttered.

"The Dark Lord wants to make sure that they will win the war this time. They want the power to conquer the whole Wizarding World" Said Sirius.

Severus remained silent as he had nothing to say in this matter. He knows that they are outnumbered regarding how many Death Eaters there are. Although Severus was only a spy on both sides, that didn't mean he didn't have split feelings. Concerned and nervous.  But despite all those feelings, he managed to masked them all.

"Despite all that, Sirius. We can't let Harry join The Order. He's still a child" Said Remus to Sirius. He knows what Sirius is thinking regarding he has known Sirius for a long time.

"But we can't just let him be left behind. He needs to know everything. He's been through a lot before why can't we just let him join the Order if that's what he wants" Sirius reasoned.

"He's not your son, Sirius" Molly replied as she stared at Sirius intently.

"He's good to be one." Sirius insisted.

"Harry is not James" Molly stated.

Severus scoffed at the name of James Potter. His old arch enemy. He despises that man with all his life. His old bully that he will never forgive. It might sound selfish but that's the truth. He hates him just like he hates that Potter's son. Harry reminds Severus about James and he hates that his old bitter memories are opened whenever he sees Harry's face.

"He's good. Can't you see his spirit?" Sirius replied.

"Even if we see his spirit, Sirius. That doesn't mean he can join the Order. He's still a child. Who else has he got?" Remus muttered firmly, hands clasped on the table as he stared at Sirius in front of him.

"He's got me. He's already like my son" Sirius replied.

"How sentimental that is, Black. It makes me want to puke" Severus said sarcastically.

"Stay out of this, Snivellius" Sirius glared at him. "Mind your own business"

Severus rolled his eyes at him. With insults thrown at him, Severus tended to ignore them as usual. He has been used to the insults thrown at him since school, which he dealt with by ignoring it. He has been called many names and been called many things that shouldn't be even though he has been through many things that shouldn't be.

But sometimes there are times when he starts to fight back but it ends up hurting him. Throughout his school years at Hogwarts, for him is a place that can be called home and hell. Why? first it is called home is because he can distance himself from his abusive father and why he calls it hell is with all these bullying he went through while he was at Hogwarts.

But some things never change. He still goes through that phase even as an adult. Severus just remained silent at the table. Silently hoping that this meeting ends early. He doesn't want to be here but Dumbledore insisted him to join the meeting.

"Bastard" Severus silently cursed as he fidgeted his fingers under the table.

As the whole Order of the Phoenix was bickering, suddenly out of nowhere a loud crack appeared in front of the door 12 Grimmauld Place making everyone silent. They looked at each other in alarm before they rushed to the front door.

It is quite impossible for people to apparate into 12 Grimmauld place easily because they have put some spells to prevent people from apparating or entering at will. Hearing that familiar sound made them rush to the front door.

Severus was not far behind. What they found was a middle-aged woman, dressed in a black robe from top to bottom, her combat boots dirty with fresh mud, her clothes dirty with mud and moss while her face was hidden by her hood. The woman seemed to be leaning heavily on the wall. Her chest fell and rose to draw in and exhale her gasping breath as she groaned with fatigue and pain. The woman looked up to them weakly.

She then smiled genuinely. The Order of The Phoenix members who had drawn their wands on the woman frowned in confusion. Molly looked at her with concern.

The woman opened her mouth. "I believe Dumbledore said that Severus Snape is here" the woman weakly said.

Severus frowned as he walked past them to see the mysterious woman. The woman, upon seeing Severus in her line of sight, smiled weakly at him.

"They got me" The woman said. A sense of sorrow in her voice as she began to lose consciousness.

Severus widened his eyes upon hearing that as he suddenly bolted towards the woman who was almost sliding to the ground and managed to catch her from stomping to the ground.

Severus held up her head in his hands, one hand opened the woman's hood and revealed the woman's face to the other members of the Order of Phoenix.

They frowned with a hint of unfamiliarity at the woman. Her face is full of bruises and cuts that are still covered in blood. They slowly lowered their wands when they sensed that this woman was not harmed.

Severus whispered her name under his breath, trying to wake her up but she didn't respond. When Severus tried to adjust his hold on the woman, he then noticed that the shoulders of the woman's robes were wet. His hand supported her head while the other tapped her cheek to wake her up and started to touch the woman's shoulder carefully.

He pulled his hand that was holding her shoulder. There were blood stains on his palm. He furrowed his eyebrow with worry before he picked up the woman in a bridal style and walked past the other members who were watching the scene suspiciously.

"Snape wh-"

"don't get involved in this, Black" Severus hissed.

"who is she? How does she know about this place?" Remus asked.

Severus ignored them as he took the woman in his arms to one of the rooms in 12 Grimmauld place. Hearing some noises from downstairs, Harry, Hermione, Ron and the others who were hanging out in one of the rooms upstairs started to go out to see the source of the noise.

They all had confused expressions when they heard the bickering between the adults there. But then their expressions changed as Severus walked in front of them to enter one of the rooms in Grimmauld place. They never saw their Pofessor whom they despised go upstairs as long as he attended the Order of The Pheonix meeting let alone using one of the rooms here.

Harry noticed his godfather behind Severus who was still asking questions about the unconscious woman but then Sirius was silent when Severus shut the door in his face. Sirius turned the doorknob a few times knowing that the door had been locked by Severus. He scoffed before he turned his gaze to another place but then his eyes caught his godson's gaze.

Harry raised his eyebrows as if asking a question which Sirius pursed his lips and shook his head.

"You should all be in bed. It's late" Sirius muttered as he strode down to the downstairs.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Severus Kneeled beside the unconscious woman's bed. His eyebrows furrowed with concentration as he washed several wounds and cuts on the woman's face with a wet cloth to prevent infection. The woman's shirt was flipped aside for Severus to treat the wound on the woman's shoulder easily. He then put the wet cloth into a container filled with water before reaching for some potion bottles that he had brought incase something like this happened between The Order of the Phoenix.

Severus then applied the ointment he made on the woman's cuts and wounds, especially on the woman's shoulder. The woman was still unconscious which made Severus slightly worried. He then looked towards the woman's hand. His eyes seemed focused on the ring finger. There resides a simple silver ring on the woman's finger. Severus narrowed his eyes.

The same ring he was wearing. Severus diverted his gaze on the woman's face which was clean of blood. He moved closer to her then moved the strands of hair from the woman's face gently. Severus sighed lowly as he sat back against the wall beside the bed. Waiting for this mysterious woman to wake up. His hand held the woman's hand, thumb rubbed the back of the woman's hand tenderly.

As he seems to zoned out, he didn't notice the woman's eyebrows twitched indicating that the woman had begun to regain consciousness. The woman turned her head weakly as she let out a soft breath. Pain is still felt in her body. Eyes still closing but she is still aware of the warmth in her hands. Severus turned his attention from space to the woman alarmingly.

"Sev-"

"shh" Severus shushed her as he stroked the woman's face softly.

The woman sighed. "They got me"

"I know.." Severus replied.

"They know I'm a double agent"

Severus remained silent. His hand still stroking the woman's face as the woman finally opened her eyes and looked at Severus.

"I failed the mission" She whimpered.

"no, you're not, Y/n" Severus moved his body to take the woman into his arms.

"Voldemort knows that I work for Dumbledore. He knows that I am loyal to Dumbledore and not him." You paused to swallow. "He said that in the end I will betray him. Severus.. He's been suspecting me all this time. He knows. I'm scared that he will come to you too" you whimpered into his chest.

Hearing Voldemort's name made Severus' spine shiver. He remained silent as he kept embracing you.

"Don't worry about me, Love. I know what I should do." Severus assured.

You are still hugging his body. Face looked up looking at Severus' face with cheeks wet with tears. Your eyes are red from crying.

"But I'm scared Severus, that he will suspect you too. He knows that we-"

"I know.. " Severus said lowly as he stroked your hair gently. "I'll make sure he doesn't suspect anything about me"

You just nodded as you hugged his torso tightly as if your life depended on him. Severus didn't care about how tightly you hugged him but instead he hugged you tightly too. He put his chin on top of your head as he rubbed your back reassuringly.

After a few minutes of embracing each other, you both finally parted away. You bow your head as you sniffles. Severus looked at you with concern before he took your face to look at him. He palmed your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears that wet your cheeks.

"You're going to be okay. He won't do anything to you as long as I'm with you" Severus whispered as he kissed your forehead. "you're safe here"

"I'm sorry if I suddenly apparated here. Dumbledore gave me the address of this place because he said you would be here with the Order" You muttered. "They must be surprised to see people they don't know suddenly appear"

"nonsense. That's not what you need to worry about." Severus replied. "Besides they must be wondering who are you to me"

"They will definitely be surprised upon hearing what we are to each other" You said, smiling fondly.

"Obviously" Severus muttered. "Are you okay now?" Severus added.

You hummed as you rested your head on his chest. "I'm fine as long as you're by my side"

Severus faintly smiled at that as he kissed your crown of hair. "Good, now we have to explain to them about the outburst earlier"

You huffed. "Is it necessary?"

"Yes" Severus replied.

You sighed before nodding in agreement.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"So what you said is that she is your... Wife?" Arthur mumbled in disbelief. Eyes looked at you and Severus.

Severus hummed as he kept himself close to your side as a way to support you to stand. You glanced at him gratefully before diverting your gaze to Arthur.

"We have a reason to hide this. But we can't hide this for long, can we?" you replied.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Can't believe that Snivellius got this beautiful woman"

"and you don't? " You furrowed your eyebrows as Severus glared at him, lips faintly smirked at your statement.

Remus sent his warning look at Sirius. "We don't need to inflame the situation, Sirius"

"What? It's true. Don't tell me you're on his side" Sirius crossed his arms.

"I'm not on anyone's side" Remus said firmly.

"She's a Death Eater! We can't trust her" Sirius snapped.

"She's a double agent just like Snape" Remus replied.

"Gentlemen, please... Take this matter seriously. We don't need any arguments here." Arthur interjected as he glared at the two men. He sighed. Molly looked at him with concern as she rubbed her hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Look. What Severus did about keeping his relationship a secret was a reasonable thing due to the situation we're going through right now... Yes, she is a double agent. Dumbledore himself gave her and Severus that qualification. I understand these days no one can be trusted but for once, please investigate it first. Like Severus explained earlier, his wife is a double agent of the Order of the Phoenix and a Death Eater. But that doesn't mean she is loyal to the Death Eater as she herself wants to bring down the Death Eater. She's been through a lot in risking her life in that position. Same goes too Severus but that doesn't mean you all can act like that towards her. Snape has a reason to hide his relationship from everyone because everyone will know that is his weak point. They don't want to risk their loved ones, neither do we, but here we are in the same situation as them. Risking the lives of our loved ones. You just can't be so quick to judge someone easily. They're human too" Arthur shook his head.

All the members there were silent with what Arthur said. There's a truth in what he said, never judge someone easily and don't easily accuse someone based on background.

Sirius sighed in defeat. "Fine.. Sorry about that, Snape's wife"

Severus rolled his eyes at that. You sighed.

You nodded. " And the name Y/n Snape actually." you crossed your arms over your chest.

"Sirius Black, though you knew who am i" Sirius said, leaning against the walls behind him with hands crossing over his chest.

"My husband's bully" you stated coldly.

Sirius and Remus were silent. Severus' lips twitched in a faint smile. Only you can make someone question themselves on the spot. Making them speechless.

"I believe we have both explained everything to you. I'm afraid I need to take my wife home to get enough rest. She's been through a lot. Farewell" Severus took your hand and slowly led you out of Grimmauld Place to apparated.

As soon as the two of you left the place, you took a breath of fresh air that night. A cold temperature slapped your skins, you brought your body closer to Severus for warmth. Severus put his hand on your uninjured shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Severus asked in concerned.

You nodded. "Brilliant. Those men really make me tired. Mentally." you said in amusement. "Though it was quite satisfying to silence Sirius Black"

Severus faintly smirked. "He deserves what he asked for" Severus murmured.

"And I won't let it slide easily" You added.

Severus brought your body closer to his. "Thank you.. For being with me"

You smiled genuinely at him as you side hugged him. "Always"

[egglain]

Go Ahead & Cry (I’d Wipe Away All Your Tears)

incl.: nanami, choso, toji, gojo, geto, sukuna

summary: for a group of men who kill for a living, they’re awfully sweet… most of the time. AKA: how the jjk men comfort you

a/n: ngl i’m writing this bc i’m finally processing the US election results & i just… can’t deal. my heart goes out to all of you. pls take care of yourselves & enjoy the drabbles 🫶

Nanami

Nanami would be the first to notice something is off.

Whether you’re both at home and you’re just a bit too quiet, or he hasn’t heard from you by his lunch break while at work, something is distinctly off.

He wouldn’t be the nosy type, or the type to press. He’d bring home a sweet treat and a sentimental good (a potted flower, a stuffed animal, something that reminded him of you) without a word.

He wouldn’t pity you; far from it. And he’d never want to make you feel like that. So he’d leave the gifts on the coffee table and greet you with a kiss to the forehead, like always.

He’d sit in silence with you as if nothing was awry— allow you to feel your emotions. He’d put on a movie you like, something mindless and upbeat, without asking. Drag you to his chest and hold you there, keeping you warm and grounded in his touch.

If the waterworks start up, he’d rub your back with a large hand and press kisses to the part of your hair.

“That’s it. Get it out. I know.”

Choso

Choso is either too emotionally in-tune or completely clueless until the tears start.

But when he knows you’re upset, he feels it too.

He gets it wrong a lot of the time, at the beginning— tries to pry the cause out of you so he can minimize it. In his defence, he does it with good intentions; tries to help you see that the perceived threat is small in the greater scheme of things, that everything will work out.

But when the tears start welling, he knows he’s fucked up.

And god, is he so sweet trying to fix things.

“So sorry—“

He’d kiss the salty tears off your cheeks without hesitation.

“How do I make it stop?”

His bleeding heart is his biggest weakness and his greatest strength.

You wouldn’t have to lift a finger for the rest of the day, as he tries to make things up to you. Cooking (though he burns the bottom of the pan), cleaning (though he spills the food and has to clean again), and cuddles would be the itinerary.

Though he loves to be little spoon, he’d let you rest in his arms as long as you need it. And once you find a spot in his arms, he wouldn’t dare move.

Toji

Toji is not great with words. Or gifts. Or quality time, really.

Despite his best intentions, he always manages to fuck it up somehow. Usually by minimizing your feelings with a “what now?” or a “‘s not a big deal.” or a “nothin’ to cry over.”

It’s not his fault you cry over the little things & that you look so cute doing it. Those fat tears and reddened cheeks scratch the sadistic part of his brain so good.

That being said, he’s learned what you like over the years. Even stopped scoffing when he senses you’re feeling down.

No, he’s developed a plan.

At the first signs of distress (he’s gotten really good at recognizing these), he’s got you in his arms. If he’s at work, you better bet he’s speeding things up and hauling his ass back.

He wrestles you into his big clothes; don’t even think about fighting him on this. He wants you comfy and cozy. He’d be setting you up on the couch, dragging the comforter down from the bedroom to wrap you up. He’d sit there with you for hours, massaging your feet or calves and ordering food in. Your favourite fast food— and a whole lotta ice cream.

Don’t take advantage of his kindness though; he’s still Toji. Any snide comments, and he’d be quick to snap back.

“Shut up n’ let me take care of ya.”

Gojo

Gojo’s a little… misguided when cheering people up most of the time. That is, unless you find his goofy antics comforting.

He’s known for draping himself over shoulders obnoxiously, pinching and pulling cheeks, and light jabs that crack (only) him up.

When that doesn’t work, it’s a quick fix— thanks to the seemingly unending pit of his black card.

Gojo Satoru, at his core, is a gift giver.

Nothing pleases him more than sharing things with you that he thinks will bring you joy— whether that’s an expensive physical present or a luxurious vacation abroad.

He’s wrapped around your little fingers and a sniffle would have him buckling at the knees and fumbling for his wallet.

While this might look like a cop out— a way to get out of emotional intelligence duty— it’s just one part of his approach. The man is actually quite sensitive and understanding once you dig beneath the layers of persona. And he can be surprisingly mature— though he’d never want to show that side to most of the world.

He’d always listen to your yapping, validating your feelings— he’d take your side always. And he is a pro at shit-talking. At the end of it, you always come out feeling a little bit better. A little bit stronger.

You are the strongest together, after all.

Geto

Suguru is a problem-solver.

He’d sit and motion for you to lay your head on his thighs. Long elegant fingers would make gentle work of your roots and scalp, and the tension would be melting away. When you’re relaxed enough to breathe, he’d want to hear all the venting.

“Now do you want solutions or just my ear?”

He’s your rock; always puts things into perspective if you ask. He’s always got advice— though sometimes clouded by bias. Still, it’s nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of. Someone who actually listens.

Understands.

The flipside, however, is the darkness you find in him. He understands what to do because he’s hurt too. You can see it in the way he carries himself, in the bags under his eyes and the shake of his hands on the bad days.

But you care for him like he cares for you— braid his hair back, let him talk it out, gift whatever advice you can muster.

And as soon as you’re both feeling better, you’d be getting crêpes with the girls.

Sukuna

The King of Curses does not understand human sadness.

Perhaps he had empathy for it, centuries ago, before he became the Two-faced Spectre.

But now, seeing you upset, all he can think of is how pathetic tears look in reddened eyes.

He’d wipe them away with a big thumb, clicking his tongue.

“Unsightly, pathetic little thing.”

Yet, the way he speaks down to you holds a softness. A protective nature he rarely gives voice to.

He’d treat you like a porcelain doll; a prized possession. No measure was inconvenient when it came to appeasing you— though he’d be quick to reprimand entitlement. And vehemently deny any sort of feeling towards you.

When the tears come, he’d be signalling for Uraume to draw a bath and cook your favourite. You’d find your room tidied, trinkets left on the foot of your bed as if dragged in by a wild animal— an ornate dagger, gold jewellery, incense.

He wasn’t one to demonstrate affection— but he’d keep you close on the tough days. Whether it be making a seat for you on one of his hulking thighs or allowing you to sleep in his quarters, he’d allow you to do as you please.

[clairdelunelove]

itadori "wear what you want because I can fight" yuuji

he's not a violent person. well, most would claim he isn't. people tend to put him on a pedestal of fairness and morality due to his typical charm. the magnetism of his broad grins and upbeat compliments. always the comedic relief when situations escalated, and feelings were far from composed. and he'd agree that they weren't that far off with their assumptions. he views every individual as a holder of wills and dreams. the desire to strive for the value of life is enough motivation for him. he's a firm believer of sacrificing himself for the greater good– a selflessness that most couldn't fathom.

but by a rare stroke of luck, when the two of you began dating, yuuji noticed a drastic change in the perception he had of himself. he could be jealous. and in hindsight, it sounds silly because of course, there's nothing wrong with your partner being a bit insecure. it's human nature and happens to the best of us. but yuuji didn't lack self-esteem. no, he was just protective over you. guarded, vigilant, and careful about everything that involved you in some shape or form. and perhaps the inkling of keeping you all to himself has run through his mind more than once. these strong sentiments scared him, initially; rattled him enough to where he would ponder if it was normal. guilt was the typical consequence he dealt with and often confided in his mentors about it. conversed with them by using his large, expressive eyes and knitted brows. and when they hummed that his emotions were valid, well, it was like putting a soothing balm over an injury. he was as good as new.

so it isn't surprising when his nose crinkles at the abominable sight before him. he leaves for a minute, literally, to pick up the syrupy milkshake the two of you ordered beforehand. it's filled with candied toppings, a concoction that made your mouth drop in awe and caused him to immediately buy it to make you happy. and there's a bounce in his step when he waltzes over to your table. he's in pure bliss. just euphoric due to the fact that the both of you could spend the day together and it's been a dream come true. he'd taken you to the bowling alley, gotten some impressive strikes, and even snuck in a couple affectionate kisses. it's the equivalent of the cheesy romcoms that he watches when he misses you.

until it isn't.

because there's a guy chatting you up in yuuji's absence and okay, yuuji takes a deep breath and reasons that it's not a crime to talk to you while he's away. but cut him some slack, y'know. he almost feels bad when you catch his stare and a wave of relief washes over your features. emphasis on almost, however. his mouth twitches in response, plastering on a half-smile as he gets closer, until he has the misfortune of hearing what the stranger was adamantly uttering to you.

"you don't have to be coy, 'course you're dressing like that to get attention," the guy pointedly gestures to your outfit with a smirk, "you got mine, for sure."

and yuuji sees red. an intense burst of emotion that licks up into flames of animosity that drive him to the brink. it's instantaneous. scarily so, when yuuji's calloused hand seizes the stranger's before he can sleazily reach to pet at your clothes. because how dare this stranger feel the need to say that. yuuji recognizes the telltale sign of your brows drawing together, your self-confidence diminishing the more this situation goes on. so he snaps.

"what'd you just say to my girl, asshole?"

he doesn't even recognize the gruff, harsh voice that leaves his chapped lips. there's a huff of alarm from the sheer power of his grip on the stranger's wrist and you swear you hear an unnerving crack. you let out a distressed gasp. the blushy haired male doesn't verbalize the same sentiment, though. just blankly stares up through his brows, an ominous and haunting intent in his actions. and yuuji's a completely different person now. you note a muscle in his jaw that twitches. gone is your sweet, doting boyfriend. he's placed by a man with innate concentration and murderous intent to protect your honor– to defend you. the contrast is startling.

"she can wear whatever she wants, whenever she wants," yuuji moves to grasp onto the front of the stranger's shirt and forewarns him with a couple shakes, each word emphasized with the movement, "'cause she's with me."

and the blushy haired male rattles the other grown man like he was nothing. just a speck of dust that happened to get in yuuji's way. a nuisance that he'll willingly dispose of. naturally, the stranger is reduced to trembling and cowering in fear. the sleeves of yuuji's sweater are rolled up to showcase his solid forearms and rippling veins that are only more apparent in how tense he is. hysterical excuses leave the other male's mouth; mentions of who- or rather what- you were dating. how this wasn't right-minded or moral for him to be acting this way. this was just supposed to be a light-hearted 'joke.' but yuuji's not interested in listening. he casts a rather neutral glance to him, the kind where his brows drop in conviction. locked onto his prey and stopping any means of escape. his golden eyes are as sharp as daggers. a manifestation of the stranger's night terrors and much more. there's hostility evident in how yuuji shoves him to get lost and, as quick as the stranger appeared, he vanishes.

and after the whole ordeal, yuuji's busy scratching the back of his neck. the image of modesty and faultlessness being captured by how he tilts his head to the side while he watches the stranger retreat.

he even has the audacity to mumble an innocent, "gee. what was that guy's deal?" like the pink-haired male wasn't just playing violent mind games with him or how he wasn't just the sole embodiment of the harbinger of hell itself. all as an effort to protect you.

your heart skips. breathless, as you're engulfed in warmth that exposes your deepest desires. and you think that yuuji knows; well, with how he leans to press a tender kiss onto your forehead and eagerly takes your hand in his. how his casual display of strength melts you into a puddle. but when you're left flustered, heart pounding and mind racing, you realize that you're the one that's struck speechless on how effortlessly attractive he is. but it dawns on you that this is just how yuuji innately is. after all, he vowed to be yours; in every aspect there is. his commitment to you is unmatched. and it's the utter devotion that yuuji unveils to you in times like this that your love for him only grows with each passing day.

[iloveboysinred]

just read ur keith nsfw hc😩😩I ILOVED THEM SO MUCH N UR WRITING IS AMAZINNNGGG,, i was wondering if u could write some more keith nsfw, whatever comes to your mind💗💗

First of all sorry anon bub i had to touch grass and breathe outside air before i wrote this bc i havent written for Keith in a miiinute (sorry voltron feens, i been starving yall right along with the Zuko Stans 💔) but lets get right into it cause i woke up wanting to get active!

Afab! Reader here.

- so since you read my other hcs you already know i think Keith is a FREAK. And let me elaborate!

- dont let his emo lone wolf persona throw you off, cause once he gets through that beginning shy faze hes on your boddyyyyy

- backshot warrior. He likes to be at your ear at all times with his nasty, dirty mouth.

- so while he’s giving you backshots he’ll lean down, whispering nasty praise into your ear, or if its angry sex he’s teasing you about your moans and laying claim to you by leaving marks on you where he can reach you.

- “you’re gasping, your hands gripping the pillows to try and stabilize yourself from the rough back and fourth of Keith’s thrusts and his hands on your hips pulling you back onto his dick. You feel him lean down on you, his chest pressing up against your back. “So tight” he whispers, rotating his hips in tight, agonizingly deep circles. “This pussy’s so good. You’re so good f’me baby” he grunts, bringing himself down to nip and lick at your earlobe, his tongue hot against your skin.”

- he really likes to fuck in front of a mirror, especially if he’s feeling some type of way and wants you to watch as he fucks you open or he wants you to see your face when you cum all over his dick. Bonus points if he’s angry or jealous.

- “eyes on the mirror.” You could tell Keith’s patience was wearing thin, his voice curt as he grabs your chin, turning you back to look at the full body mirror in his room. He started up his pace again with mean thrusts rocking the headboard and filling the room with loud squelches as your poor pussy quivered and drooled around his girth. He had a tight grip on your hair, holding your head up and in place to watch as he fucked you within an inch of your life. “I’m the only one that can fuck you like this.” And he sounds so self assured, your tight walls clenching around him at his words and proving his words true. “Fuckin pussy was made just for me.”

- and dont get me wrong! Keith is a sap too. I genuinely feel like most of the time he’s the sentimental sex type. Like i’ll speak on Keith being a freak ass all day but i genuinely believe most of the time you both have soft, loving sex until yall get booted to space and all the crazy shit starts happening and he just has to take that stress out in other ways besides training.

-Like when you came to him about how you miss home and how you miss just being with him before this whole galaxy space war crazyness began, he comforted you, reassuring you that the two of you being together was as close to home as ya’ll could get. That night, he held your hands in his, fingers interlaced as he made love to you. He held your gaze in his, whispering sweet words and little nothings to you while he rocked his hips into you, slow and deep.

- quickie obsessed. Like i said in the hcs when he wants you he’ll have you. He’s lucky you’re just as down as him because the way this man will just drag you into whatever mildly secluded area and just either swallow your tongue and feel you up or straight up just try and bend you over is crazy. It only takes a misplaced touch or a sultry look and he smirking at you, nothing but ill intent in his eyes as he drags you away. And its even crazier that he has the audacity to act embarrassed if you ever get caught

- I feel like he genuinely likes when you’re a little rough back. Grab his hair, choke him, bruise him up a little and he’s loving it. Has literal hearts in his eyes when you take control and treat him so meanly. When you did it he was shocked the first time, but he definitely finds himself liking it, taking your dominance as a challenge to see who can crumble first.

-loves loves lovessss when you moan his name when he’s fucking you stupid. Its cute how you cant get a coherent word out, everything you say fading into mumbles and gasps.

- pussy EATER. He’s not a pro by any means but once you show him how you like it he does it just to see you squirm and rock into his face. He gets pussy drunk easily, and his eyes bore into yours every time as if he’s holding you down with his gaze.

Thats all i got anon bub. Thank you for your ask💟 AND THANK YOU FOR ENJOYING MY WORK I LOVE YOU

[starlit-typewriter]

Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 2

I didn't expect such a warm reception, but I'm so glad you guys all liked it!

Your kind words inspired me so much so behold the next part!

Warning for spoilers up to 4.6

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part

~~~

It all started with a dream.

Well, a lot of things start with dreams, but this one was an actual, asleep in bed, REM cycle dream.

Well, at least you thought it was. But that's neither here nor now. 

It was, to your unending embarrassment about Genshin Impact. 

Now there’s absolutely nothing wrong with likings something so much that you end up dreaming about it, it’s just slightly humiliating when you as a person is not someone who dreams a lot and your first actual proper dream that you can actually remember past the first twenty minutes after waking up is about a fictional 2D character vowing to love and care for you.

Ever so slightly humiliating.

You'd've preferred it if it was an actual person because at least that way you knew you had a crush on a living human being rather than having a parasocial relationship with a giant block of code and text. 

Actually, can you have parasocial relationships with fictional humans?

Not the point,

This started with a series of extremely weird and slightly embarrassing dreams about Iudex Neuvillette.

Actually this started when you C6’d him.

Honestly, you did not expect to get anywhere near this lucky, especially since your past luck has been average to low in terms of wishing for characters.

But with him, 

Well,

It wasn't quite streamer luck, but you did not have to spend any monetary funds to achieve your goal. 

You did have to skip quite a few Fontanian characters, and grind out all the region’s exploration, but you’d say it was well worth it.

The night after you’d gotten that final constellation, you had the aforementioned weird dream.

You weren’t in the dream per say, as you didn’t seem to occupy any physical space, 

you well.

The best way to describe it would be a movie scene. 

You watched as the man, dragon, stood on a balcony. 

The moon’s rays reflecting off of this silver chalice, you could only assume filled with another one of his fancy waters. 

But it was his gaze that caught your attention.

It’s cheesy to say, but you’ve always been drawn to the man’s gaze. It was always so sharp, so intentional.

He knew what he was looking at and he did so with reason.

But now, at this moment.

It was unfocused, hazy. 

His gaze was not focused on the moon, nor the city lights.

He did not stare at the landscape of Fontaine, nor the glittering waters beneath.

But, he saw you.

You don’t know how you knew, but you did.

You didn’t hear what he was saying, nor could you make out the words his mouth was forming but you knew that it was a call, a call for you.

It was odd but flattering and confusing, but a deeper part of you crooned as his sentiments. A part of you you didn’t realize you had was rising to the surface.

“My child,” it crooned, “my dear Hydro Dragon,”

Neuvillette seemed to startle at that.

You knew you didn’t make any sound, you didn’t even have a body, but somehow he heard it, heard you.

His face flushed, hand grasping at his chest as his murmurs seemed to grow faster.

You didn’t know what was going on anymore, simply that this rising feeling in your chest was growing and growing. 

It was scary.

It was alien.

Feelings that were not your own, moments of clarity and nostalgia flash through you, connecting to nothing but faceless figures and a deep sense of regret and loss.

What is happening,

A part of you that you didn’t know about, that you’ve never felt.

Is this what it feels like to be possessed, you recall thinking faintly before sinking into darkness.

~~~

The Iudex of Fontaine stood above all in the courtroom.

With the destruction of the Oratrice Mechanique D’analyse Cardinale, his word and judgment were the last line holding Fountaine to its standard of justice and order.

On paper, he seemed to have it all as the youths may say.

But his identity as the Hydro Dragon may deter from that.

It is already isolating enough to be the Iudex of the nation of Justice and Hydro, but to be the only dragon, were it not something that he had spent his entire lifespan balancing, he feared he could go mad from that.

There is a sense of irony in that.

Focalors's plot put both he and Furina in the highest positions in all of Fountaine, and in turn made them both the most isolated as well.

Although, at least she was released from her duties after the job was done.

While he was and forever will be grateful for her contribution in saving Fountaine, there is a quiet part of him that he’s tried very hard to bury, that is green with envy. 

He understood Focalor’s reasoning, after all, once their act was done Furina would be able to live a normal human life and he would be able to regain his powers and authority as the Hydro Dragon. 

That was as much as she could do for him, from her limited position.

He was grateful.

But,

His brethren, his kin.

They did not have the same freedoms granted to them.

While he did not have many memories of what happened to the previous sovereigns, nor of his life before the arrival of the Primordial one, he knew that they were most likely sealed away, deprived of their rightful power and authority.

It is his duty as the Hydro Dragon to render judgment upon the Usurpers that massacred his brethren and sealed away his kin. To uphold the standard of justice he has worked so hard to maintain during his rule as Iudex of Fontaine.

He once saw a quote in a popular novel that was making the rounds. “To become God is the loneliest achievement of them all,” whilst he does not recall the contents of the book, the sentiment of the line rings true, especially now that he has regained his authority.

While he and Furina did not spend much time together whilst they were performing their duties, she was a constant presence that he knew was always there. Much like a tree you would pass by everyday on your morning commute, or the singing of birds at dawn. An ever present figure whose loss is sudden and to an effect irreplaceable. 

He finds himself missing her, sometimes.

Not that he dares let Sedene and the others know, else they’ll enact some kind of plot to get him to go out and meet more people. 

But there was a comfort in knowing that she, just like him, was alone in their positions and would serve Fontaine to the very end.

Not that he dares disturb her well earned retirement, nor does he wish to retire himself. 

It was simply,

A shame.

The melusines were the closest equivalent to his dragon kin that he has had over the centuries, and will most likely continue to be for many to come. For as much as their presence filled him with happiness, they do not, and he hopes never will, understand what it truly means to be a dragon.

To be the last survivor of the original people of Teyvat, crushed under the heel of the Usurper king and their shades. 

To have to live amongst their people, knowing that while humans are innocent, their creation was built upon the bloodshed and suffering of his people.

There is a unique sense of cruelty in her actions, he reflected, fitting for the successor of one of the usurpers.

Whilst he has no doubt she meant it as an honor, taking him in, raising him to the highest scene of this land, giving him the highest seat of power and eventually returning to him his authority after watching her death.

There were moments, especially when he first took on the mantle and was trying to prove himself worthy of the title, that we would stare out at the people of Fountaine and wonder why he was doing this.

Humans were the reason for the destruction of his people. The Usurper King, sought out this world and destroyed it and it’s civilization so that a new one could be created in place of it. So that humans could be created in place of it. 

Human are the reason why his people, why the dragons were destroyed, they were the reason behind all the suffering and pain his kin have gone through and yet.

Yet they were still innocent.

They did not participate in the war.

They did not ask to be created.

They did not deserve to be punished for the sins of their creator.

However that does not make it any easier to stomach.

There is a peculiar sense of humiliation, to be worshiped alongside those who have destroyed your brethren. To serve and protect the beloved children of those who caused him and his people great harm.

It is a cruel and angry part of him that he does not dwell on much.

He cannot, lest it overrule all his rational sensibilities.

Humans are not inherently cruel beings. They are curious passionate creatures who love and care for each other deeply, who are compassionate and curious at their very core. 

Whilst during his reign as Iudex, he has seen a great deal of human cruelty and evil, he has also witnessed selfless acts of kindness and compassion. 

It is the duality of human nature that strikes him so. He cannot blame them for acts they are innocent of, but neither can he proclaim them to be free of all responsibility.

Truly the most vexing case he has ever dealt with.

Especially since,

Neuvillete frowned as he rubbed at his chest, feeling where the small spark of divine blessing lay within him. 

As the reborn Hydro dragon he does not have access to all the memories of his previous incarnations. As such his knowledge of the previous Dragon Sovereigns and the Creator of Teyvat remains incomplete.

But what he does know, what he does remember, is warmth.

The same warmth that now resides in his chest and on his very self.

He does not remember having many interactions with the creator of Teyvat, knowing that the greatest of interactions lay between the Fromitable Dragon Father himself, and the creator of this great realm. 

 He had assumed that they had abandoned Teyvat, abandoned the dragons. He’d have preferred that to be in case rather than the harrowing alternative of their defeat and possible imprisonment at the hands of the Usurper king.

But deep in his heart he knew that not to be the case.

“A creator cannot abandon their world”, King Nibelung had proclaimed, their Dragon Father was the one who knew the most about their creator after all, he had no reason to dispute such a fact.

 Worlds are much akin to terrariums, whilst on the surface it may seem completely self dependent and a skilled enough botanist may even be able to create one that can last years without any need for direct intervention, but even terrariums need light.

They require the sun to nourish its plants and create the water cycle, for all it may seem self sufficient it requires the energy of the world outside it’s glass container. 

That is very much the situation of Teyvat.

For as much as Teyvat seems to have taken care of itself, the world is breaking. Ley lines disorders have become more and more common, abyssal energy roams around, attaching itself to unsuspecting creatures. Bodies of dead gods spread harmful miasma around, polluting the earth.

If the creator wanted to destroy Teyvat, it would be as simple as cutting off the power of the Leylines, putting out the sun, or any myriad of actions that would destroy this very world.

They did not, instead they still provided this terrarium with bits of light. Enough for it to survive, but not enough to thrive. 

They still cared enough for Teyvat to sustain it, but not enough to intervene when it so clearly was struggling.

The creator he knew was not like that, they took no pleasure in toying around with others.

The only explanation for this was that they lacked the power to give Teyvat the help it so truly required. 

That realization was horrifying.

Nauvillete could only sit and wallow in his own helplessness as he watched the situation in Teyvat decline over the centuries.

Until,

Well,

Until the Traveler,

The witness from beyond the stars.

They have been given a great many titles in their journey through Teyvat, and have undoubtedly more than earned all of them. 

What he did not realize, is that they also had another title, unbeknownst to all.

A title given by a presence beyond all that they’ve encountered.

A title that they most likely did not even know of themselves.

The Creator's ∎∎∎∎

They carried the essence of the creator within them, it was clear they were beloved, it was clear that they were back.

The creator had come back.

And they were kind.

A part of Neuvillette feared that they would be much like King Nibelung, furious and desperate to do anything to drive out those that did not belong on Teyvat.

Perhaps they were at some point, but it seems that that point is not now.

The Traveler that acted with their blessing was kind,

They cared for those around them, human and non-human alike.

But they were not naive, willing to dispense justice upon those who deserved it.

If this was the person the creator chose to represent their will, perhaps their return will be much more peaceful than their disappearance.

Neuvillette had contented himself with that thought back then, throwing himself into his works as he had to deal with the threat that was the prophecy.

Little did he know that with time, the creator would bless him in much the same way.

The same blessing that sits in his chest at this very moment.

It has been months since he had been blessed as well as the completion of the prophecy. A selfish part of him wished that he would receive more since then.

Through his investigation he has seen many others, being blessed just as he had, gaining strength and power beyond their previous limits. 

But they were not dragons.

They were not the creator’s original creation, their children.

Is it unfair for him to hope that he’d be treated differently. 

Perhaps, the age of dragons had long passed already, and humans have dominated so much of this world that it is hard to deny that they are the driving force behind Teyvat.

But still,

He hoped,

He prayed,

Until,

The skies glowed.

Not the stars, mind you,

The sky

It was akin to the opposite of a solar eclipse, the night turning into day.

A surge of energy filled his body.

Not like when he regained his authority, that one was a wave of pure power cascading upon his person, placing responsibilities and burden on his shoulders alike.

This one was kind, gentle, hopeful, excited.

Is this what it feels like to take drugs, Neuvillette thought faintly.

Synth was incredibly popular on the market for its ability to create unprecedented euphoria in its users. If this is what those people felt then he understood why they were willing to go to such methods to achieve this feeling.

“My child,” the power crooned, wrapping itself around him, embracing him with all the tenderness of a loving parent,

His mouth formed the words he could not bring himself to say,

The power purred with reassurance, erasing pains and aches that he didn’t even know he had, before fading from his body.

His arms reached out in desperation, hoping to capture that feeling again to no avail.

Their presence was gone,

But their blessing remained

It certainly remained and it was stronger than ever, this power surge he feels is akin to receiving his full authority once more. 

Whilst many worries and doubts he had about the future still remained, one thing was made clear.

He was beloved, he was wanted, and the creator would keep him safe.

~~~~

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part

~~~

Let me know what you think! I love reading your comments and feel free to send me asks about it as well!

[signanothername]

I'm thinking about that remark color had told killer, in the comic where he couldn't move. That Killer has so much love to give. I think that's true based on killer's behavior.

With cross it's especially evident, I see traces of it with killer's other interactions as well.

To killer, who is a creature who had only been beholden to the harsh rules of Survival for so long it's weaves throughout everything that he is, to teach someone how to survive is a genuine act of care from him (even if he doesn't realize it).

It is not pretty or nice or even healthy. But to "teach" someone these rules he had to learn himself, in far more horrifc ways than he displays, seems like it's coming from a tender place in him. It's almost gentle the way he treats them compared to how nightmare or chara treated himself.

Like with Cross when they saw nightmare in the forest. Killer demonstrated proper behavior for someone "higher" than him, to show his belly and submit, because those are the only real options for survival here. Nightmare has killed him before and can most certainly do it again. He chastised Cross for his "incorrect" display. When he gave Cross his first strike, it was a lesson, that there is always consequences to an action. It doesn't matter if killer and him were friendly. Killer is above him physicality wise, he can and will inact punishment. You can't afford to be wrong in your risk assessment and blindly emotional if you are going survive.

Anyone can hurt you at anytime. There are creatures who lie and cheat and steal, so you have to be better at it then them. Take the dirty punches. Bite the hand that feeds if need be. It doesn't matter what you do as long as it keeps you alive.

All the while the sentiment shines through (I want you to live. I care about you enough to teach you how to live when I'm not here. Keep yourself safe, even if it's from me.)

It's not black and white. Nothing ever is. Abuse is abuse even if it's from good intentions but you can't deny that the love was never there. Both love and LoVe.

Context 1, context 2

You get it Anon, THANK YOU

Y’know, I haven’t really shown it properly yet, but this behavior will also be very evident when it comes to Murder and Horror

Killer acts as the right hand man to Nightmare, and while a lot of the time he’s very much an asshole with Murder and Horror, he definitely does “teach” them how to survive too, not necessarily out of genuine care for them, but instinctively, as well as the fact any “improper” behavior by them, can be used against him by Nightmare any time, in the sense of “it’s your job to make sure they behave”

You can see how that carries out to a time when Killer is finally out no? >:)

[shinidamachu]

inuyasha, kagome and jealousy: why their feelings were justified

disclaimer: I'm aware there's a debate about whether or not inukag was officially, canonically dating during the series and that the answers tend to change according to the source material embasing them (manga or anime), but despite using manga panels to write this, I did it purely out of practicality and have no intentions of opening this particular can of worms right now. The point I'll be trying to make for @inukag-week's bickering prompt is that their feelings were valid regardless.

Inuyasha and Kagome get criticized a lot for the jealousy they feel of each other.

People seem to think that Kagome is not entitled to that sentiment because she chose to stay by his side knowing what it entailed and, more often than not, was the one telling him to go see Kikyo, so it's not fair of her to resent him when he actually does.

On the other hand, they claim that precisely because Inuyasha goes to see Kikyo, it's hypocritical of him to get mad at the fact that Koga is constantly showing just how much romantically invested he is on Kagome, as he has no ground to stand on.

Their feelings, however, are completely justified and no other scene proves that better than this manga interaction Sunrise mercilessly cut out:

Inuyasha is once again jealous of Kagome and Koga's proximity and he lets his frustrations out in no uncertain terms, but then Kagome makes a good point: what righ has he to be upset about it when he is also close to Kikyo? It's exactly why he gets flak in the first place. And his answer to that question is very interesting:

She may think Inuyasha is diverting, but he's really not. That's the briliance of this exchange: they are both right and they are both wrong on their assumptions.

Of course that, from Kagome's perspective, Koga putting his arms around her is not that big of a deal. They have no history whatsoever and she made it clear since day one that she wasn't interested. If he still wants to shoot his shot, it's all she can do to lay a friend and ally down gently.

Plus, it doesn't hurt that Koga's interest on her is such an ego boost...

Or that it turns the tables on Inuyasha to make him feel insecure and worried for a change.

Or that, in a twisted way, it actually reassures her of the feelings he tries so hard to be nonchalant about.

It might be a little petty of her, but how any of that even compares to Inuyasha kissing Kikyo? To Inuyasha meeting her alone even though she did terrible things to the two of them? To everyone constantly talking about how he still has feelings for her?

Surely he must know, after everything they've been through, that it can't compare, that he is the one Kagome is in love with. And since he does know, how dare he ever doubt her?

And of course that, from Inuyasha's point of view, Koga putting his arms around her is a huge deal. She complains about how every time he sees Kikyo they "float off into their own little world" but the truth is that except for the kiss she laid on him and the goodbye one they shared when she passed away for good — none of which had romantic conotations —, his interactions with Kikyo were pretty sterile, especially if juxtaposed with Kagome's interactions with Koga.

Kikyo is dead and isn't romantically interested in Inuyasha, nor is he romantically interested in her, but Koga certainly is into Kagome. Just because it isn't reciprocal yet, doesn't mean it hasn't potential to be.

Koga is the one regularly inserting himself into her personal space and she lets him, even though he did terrible things to the two of them. And so how can he be sure she doesn't like it? And how exactly is that different from the dynamic they share? Was she, after all, just being nice with him too and nothing more?

Surely she must know, after everything they've been through, that he only leaves because he has a duty to fulfil, but that he will always come back to her, that she is the one whose shoulders he puts his arm around. And since she does know, how dare she ever doubt him?

It's a classic case of miscommunication, but one that actually makes total sense, because they're just two teenagers navigating through extremely complex feelings in the worst possible circumstances.

They don't have the bigger picture the audience has and even if they did, their judgement would still be clouded by their jealousy, which keeps they stuck into their own perspectives.

And what makes even hard for them to get over these feelings is that they don't come from a place of ownership at all, but rather from a place of insecurity.

That's why Koga and Kikyo make up for such formidable rivals for Inuyasha and Kagome: it's not about the competition — the audience knows there isn't really one —, it's about the insecurities they bring out of the pairing, because they were carefully designed to do just that.

From the very beginning Kagome was being compared to Kikyo for being her reincarnation. She starts the story already having to measure up to her in power and once Kikyo actually enters the scene, Kagome is also taken aback by her beauty and elegance, but more than that: she feels like she can't compete because Kikyo "died for Inuyasha." One day he might return the favor.

For his part, Inuyasha has Koga to deal with. A good looking, uncomplicated man who has taken a like to Kagome and has absolutely nothing holding him back from pursuing her, while he has nothing to offer but a difficult past, an unstable present and an uncertain future. One day she could grow tired of it all and realize that Koga could give her everything he couldn't and leave for good.

In conclusion, all that jealousy is rooted in insecurities and in the fear of losing each other, which are completely understandable and absolutely valid .

The differece, I think, is that the narrative lets Inuyasha express his feelings of jealousy directly towards Koga, from insults to actual physical fights, without grand repercutions, while Kagome is never allowed allowed a similar outlet

But that's a topic for another day.

Special thanks to @kitramune for helping me with the panels.

[funnycreatortimetravel]

Whenever I rewatch the Madoka Magica episodes + the two recap movies, I always feel that the sentiment "Homura did nothing wrong," shines through the most here and less so Rebellion (I'll get into this later) even though ironically, the Rebellion movie is where that infamous saying was coined.

-Homura cannot DO any wrong when everything sort of already goes wrong no matter if she intervenes or not. Mami dies whether or not Homura intervenes (she goes crazy when she finds out that magical girls are all destined to turn into witches and then goes on a murder-suicide rampage, she's killed by Walpurgis, she gets caught off guard, etc.) All of these deaths happened on Mami's accord and not Homura's, so of course there's no wrongdoing to be had.

-Even if you argue that Homura could've been nicer to her, Mami automatically assumed that Homura had the worst intentions for Madoka and the others, so she never really gave her a chance even WHEN Homura went through the effort of finding a grief seed solely to befriend Mami (which Homura does in most timelines FYI.) The moment Homura isn't Mami's sweet little junior student anymore, Mami is automatically on defense and even calls her a loser just because she doesn't want Madoka to make a contract, and Mami just assumes that it's because Homura doesn't want competition (which makes no sense because Homura offered her a grief seed.)

-Mami does the same thing to Kyoko in the Different Story Manga; Once Kyoko's parents died and she became distraught, she didn't want to follow Mami's ideals anymore and this leads them into getting into a physical altercation (sound familiar?)

-Mami has never been a person you can just causally talk things through to. If she believes you don't share the same ideals on things, she can and will fight you. She doesn't fight Sayaka or Madoka because those two largely agree with her on everything, but Kyoko and Homura? They're free game if they so much as look at her sideways.

-Mami also says that making a wish should be something you seriously think about and not just dive in willy nilly, but then turns around and tells Madoka that she should wish for a cake if she still hasn't figured it out all because Mami doesn't want to be alone.

-I'm going to give Mami the benefit of the doubt and assume she wasn't being serious, but she knows how impressionable Madoka is and regardless of how serious or not she is, she's still fine with Madoka making a wish and becoming a magical girl just so she won't be lonely anymore.

-Homura tries her damn hardest to befriend Mami (she offers her a grief seed as I mentioned earlier, she listens when Mami tells her to go away without a fuss, and she warns Mami of the witch Charlotte only to be ignored and tied up) and the only thing she gets in return is Mami's unwarranted hostility. And once Homura is proven right and Mami is beheaded in front of Madoka and Sayaka, causing an insurmountable amount of trauma to them, she still quietly grieves for her even when all Mami did was assume the worst with no evidence.

-I don't necessarily blame Mami for assuming that Homura didn't have the best intentions since she's a veteran and I'm certain has had other negative run-ins with magical girls, but it's not like Homura even provided enough evidence that she would be like them. Mami was just being territorial due to force of habit (she's fine with other magical girls so long as they stay her juniors as evident in Rebellion when the moment Homura "turns different," she's highly suspicious and is ready to go guns blazing.) She doesn't even give Homura a chance to explain herself in either the show or the movie and that's one of her biggest flaws; she's so perfectionist that she can't even see what's in front of her sometimes.

-Despite this, Homura still values her as her old mentor and is hurt when the person who saved her all those timelines ago calls her a loser to her face. She even says that Mami has the softest heart of all and wishes she could forget how she trampled over her and other's feelings, (even though when you look back, Mami was the one who hurt her feelings rather than the other way around.)

And yet she still says this...

-"And it hurt me..." Homura admitting that shows just how much she cares. The fact that she's able to admit that it wasn't what Mami said that hurt her, but the fact that shattering Mami's optimistic viewpoint with the reality of the magical girl system was what hurt.

-Homura knows about Mami's tragic backstory with her parents and also knows that Mami, "doesn't have any other family to speak of," which shows she's been very close to Mami at one point, even seeing her vulnerable side just like Madoka did when Mami had that breakdown shortly before she died to Charlotte.

-She also "envies Mami" because Madoka states that she'll remember her even after she dies. Homura is obviously envying Mami because Madoka will forever see Mami in a good light in death while Madoka is afraid of her, but she could also just be envying Mami because, well, Mami died and left Madoka feeling attached to her while Homura thought she was going to die without ever being able to be close to Madoka as she once was. Context clues people, context clues.

-If you look at the different story manga, which I and many others consider canon, Homura clearly still has PTSD from Mami's murder-suicide attempt, which is the main reason why she tries to be gentle with her and listen to her when she's ordering Homura around.

-And she also notes that Mami never "held her hand," like that. Regardless of what Homura thinks, she clearly still wants or wanted that intimacy with Mami. She still saw her as an older sister figure and I know it crushed her heart when Mami said something so cruel to her.

-She also declines when Mami believes that Homura is going to kill her, even though her soul gem is stained and she technically is on her way to becoming a witch. Instead, Homura imparts some words to her.

-In the case of Sayaka...Whooo boy, it's like ten times worse than Mami. Sayaka is so caught up in her ideals that she hates anything too wild and selfish, but also weak and passive. She craps on Kyoko for being immoral and then also craps on Madoka AND Homura for not doing enough (she says that Madoka has a lot of potential but doesn't do anything with it and says Homura is too unskilled to fight effectively.) She views herself, or at least tries to, as the ultimate magical girl of justice who's moral, selfless, and most of all, strong. She doesn't view Homura, at least the one in the past timelines, as someone strong enough to be a proper magical girl.

-Sayaka holds everyone to the standard of Mami Tomoe, someone who's graceful, strong, and selfless, but she never gets the chance to realize that that version of Mami Tomoe isn't the real one and the standard she holds herself and others don't exist, which is why in every single timeline, she ALWAYS ends up witching out. It's also why in every timeline, she's antagonistic to Homura no matter if it was her timid self or the one hardened by trauma.

-She blames Homura in one timeline for attempting to warn them about Kyubey, accusing her of trying to split the group up, but then in Magia Record, when Homura DOESN'T tell them about Kyubey because she's seen how pointless it is, Sayaka gets on her case for not telling them sooner and accuses her of not telling because Homura "finds it funny." She literally can't win, no matter how quiet and out of the way she is.

-And it doesn't get better once Homura becomes "stronger" (or at the least the facade of becoming it) Sayaka just thinks that she's one of those magical girls who kills only for herself (and while Sayaka's not ALL the way wrong as she will kill solely for Madoka, she also doesn't understand that the system is designed to be like that and that's the fault of Kyubey and not Homura.)

-We're never actually shown Homura saving civilians, but we also don't see her sit idly by and let them get hurt either. Homura's viewpoint is that magical girls aren't morally obligated to be heroes and she's right; magical girls are cattle being harvested and the "good" they do is only delaying the inevitable once they witch out. No matter how noble and pure Sayaka was or wanted to be, she was eventually going to witch out and harm others, even if she wanted to save people.

-The nature of magical girls is equivalent exchange; whatever "good" is done, an equal amount of or even more bad is sure to come of it. Sayaka was going to keep killing innocent civilians as a witch until someone put her out of her misery, and that was what Homura was going to do. Sayaka doomed herself the moment she made a contract with Kyubey, and more importantly, she doomed innocent civilians, and she doomed her friends.

-Sayaka's witching out leads Mami to go crazy and attempt to kill everyone, Madoka making a contract in several timelines to save Sayaka from witching out (she does so in the Different Story Manga and Sayaka still ends up hurt) and Kyoko dying either from suicide during her confrontation with Octavia or dying from the wounds she sustains from the battle. Not to mention Sayaka witching out breaks Madoka's psyche, which is what Homura is trying to avoid.

-It would be one thing if Sayaka just died on her own accord, but she always brings others with her down her descent into despair, whether it's by killing civilians as a witch or being mean to Madoka and making her feel as though Sayaka's witching out was partly her fault.

-That's why Homura was in the right to "put her down" essentially, and even though she said she would, she couldn't bring herself to because somewhere deep down, she still cared for Sayaka. She apologizes for blowing up Sayaka in one of the first few timelines when she witches out and she blames herself for Sayaka making a contract in the TV series timeline, even saying that she should've protected Sayaka as much as Madoka even though Sayaka has never been anything BUT mean to her in the beginning. She takes responsibility for the girls' downfall even though it was inevitable.

-Another thing is her kinship with Kyoko. Because Kyoko and Homura both grew up in religious homes (Homura with catholic school and obliviously Kyoko's father being a preacher) they have the closest views on what it means to be magical girls. Note how I didn't say similar, but closest. Homura and Kyoko's wishes were for someone else, and as a result, they firmly believe that their wishes are for the sake of those people and won't pretend to be heroes or the like. The only difference is that Kyoko is much wilder and rougher because her wish directly led to the murder-suicide of her family (cough cough, like a big sister figure that killed her OTHER found family.)

-It's also the reason why Homura and Kyoko became so close in Rebellion. Kyoko was the only magical girl, apart from Madoka and even SHE sometimes didn't trust Homura, to kill Walpurgis. Kyoko agrees to fight with Homura and even though she is purely doing this for her benefit, she at least gives Homura a CHANCE and hears her out, even offering her a pocky stick. She was willing to team up with her and was also the first person that Homura felt comfortable talking to in Rebellion when she felt that something was up.

(I'll go into further specifics in another post since I ran out of image/video usage. Damn this app 😭.)