#remember if you’re fat it’s your fault if you die

[screeching-bunny]

hi, can you be part two of yandere concubine harem

Yandere! Concubine Harem pt.2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt.1

God fucking damnit it happened again. Currently, you were standing in front of your father as he was lecturing you. The reason for this scolding? Well, it was due to the fact that yet another one of your concubines had passed away. You wanted nothing more than to just go to bed and take a fat nap right now. Like how was this even remotely your fault? Everyone knows that once someone joins your harem there’s like a seventy percent chance of them dying. Yet they still do it! Why were you being blamed for their stupidity?

“I can’t fucking believe you!!! How could you let another one of your concubines die!?!? How on Earth are we supposed to explain this to the family!?!?”

“I honestly don’t understand why you're putting so much of the blame on me. Everyone literally knows the dangers of entering this place. This is the twelfth concubine to die. Can anyone really be surprised? Most people already know the fatalities, yet they still send their children here in hopes of being married to me. If they're shocked, that's on them.”

“What– I honestly can’t deal with you right now. Just go away. I can already feel my blood pressure rise…”

Man what a drag. You’re gonna have to start planning another funeral again. What did she even die from anyways? Probably just by some poison, that seems to be what’s popular nowadays. You started to make your way towards your bedroom so that you could finally relax. When you were by your window outside you noticed that a figure was already in your room. Any normal person would see this and start freaking out but you had a suspicion that you knew who this was. Taking a closer look, your suspicions were deemed correct when you got a clear view of one of your male concubines there. Not only that but they were digging through your dirty laundry. Man this is seriously gross and did they just smell your underwear!!! Man he really needed to touch some grass. Yeah… maybe it wasn’t the best idea to bedroom anyways. Whatever, to the hot springs it is!

With that you started to call a maid over and order her to bring all your bath supplies. The hot springs were in a secluded part of the palace so hopefully no one was around there. With a quick walk you finally reached the area and you patiently waited for the maid to come over and hand you your things.

“Sorry for making you wait, your highness here are all your things. I’ll make sure to tell everyone not to come here so as to not bother you. Enjoy yourself and let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, I will.”

Stepping into the waters, you start to feel your body relax as that hot water begins to hit your body. You began to just sink yourself into it. You love how calming and peaceful this place was. This was soon interrupted when you saw the waters begin to ripple with movement. Rolling your eyes a bit you then look up at a figure. Low and behold it was another concubine. This time however, you remembered his name. You think his name was Atlas… probably but you were certain that he was the prince of a southern boarding nation.

“Your highness, what a coincidence running into you like this. Mind if I have the honors of joining you?” he said with a large smile.

Coincidence my ass but nevertheless you gave him a small nod. His face immediately began to light up as he made his way towards your side. He had the eagerness of a puppy and the speed of a cheetah.

“Your highness, let me rub your back for you!”

He began to rub his hands all over your body eager to not leave one spot untouched. You were honestly so dumbfounded by him but just let him do his thing. Something else that you noticed while he was doing all of this was the fact that he was packing! It took you all your willpower to not look down and just stare at it. You couldn’t help but think and ask yourself in your mind, “was it heavy?” Man you really need to get out of here before your mind turns into the gutter. You were seriously turning into one of your perverted concubines. Before you could say anything and make an excuse to leave he beat you to it.

“When we’re finished, let's go to my side of the palace where we can relax with each other.”

Feeling that you could use a change in scenery you agreed and began to get dressed. As the two of you made your way towards his courtyard you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful it was. The place was filled with flowers and many butterflies roamed the area. The both of you sat near a nearby bench and started to make conversation.

“I’m sorry for the lack of entertainment. If I had known that I would be meeting you I would have set something up. I do have some tea that I made this morning and it would be lovely if you could try it!”

With your hum of his approval he quickly made his way inside to go and fetch it. Something that you’ll never understand about your concubines is their constant need for approval from you. You could not imagine why one would be so desperate for praise from someone else. The thought of yourself being like that almost made you laugh. Your thoughts were quickly broken when you heard the sound of someone's footsteps.

“I’m back I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long! Let me pour the tea for you!”

He swiftly grabbed the teapot and poured it into a teacup for you. Then presented you with some biscuits.

“I made this all for you! They probably don’t taste as good as they did this morning but they're still delicious!”

Taking the sip of the tea you noticed that it had a pleasant sugary taste to it. The cookies were also quite delicious. When you finished your snack the two of you continued to make small talk until you started to feel your vision begin to get blurry. You noticed that your body became hard to move and sluggish. God dammit you knew better than to accept food from anybody. Now look at where it got you!

“My love, it seems like the tea is starting to kick in but don’t worry I’ll make sure to take care of you.” he said with a lovesick expression.

[fatkish]

Could you do a Aizawa x suicidal daughter please?Sorry if this is too dark but I’ve seen some of your other works about stuff like this and it makes me feel seen I guess thanks :)

(Sorry Anon, I know that you specifically asked for an x daughter reader, but I feel that this is a topic that happens to a lot of people so I decided that I would make it Gender Neutral since everyone could used a little Dadzawa every now and then. If you want me to make one specifically for a Dadzawa x Daughter Reader then I’ll do that.)

Father Aizawa x Suicidal Reader

If I was Happy

TRIGGER WARNING: The following contains mentions of suicide ideation, self harming thoughts and feelings and other potentially triggering things. Please be advised and refrain from reading if this will trigger you.

You hadn’t always struggled with these kind of thoughts and feelings, or maybe you did. Maybe you had these thoughts before, but it had felt like so long, you couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t feel this way.

You didn’t understand why you felt so horrible about yourself or when it started but you knew that originally, you didn’t think this way about yourself.

As these horrible thoughts ran rampant in your mind, thoughts of how you’re worthless, maybe you’re fat or you’re too skinny. Maybe you’re ugly or you have acne. Maybe your nose just doesn’t fit your face, or you have oily or greasy hair that you just can’t get rid of. Maybe you heard people who made fun of you and their words made you bully yourself worse than they did. Maybe you hated everything about yourself and you couldn’t take it anymore. Or maybe the state of the world was too depressing and you didn’t want to be a part of it. Whatever the case is, your world grew darker as you turned on yourself. You became your own worse critic. But still, you didn’t let anyone see the truth, especially your amazing dad.

And maybe that’s when you finally got the idea. The thought that maybe you should die.

You couldn’t remember when the last time was that you didn’t have these thoughts. It’s like a demon came inside of you and decided to poison you, making you hate yourself and everything that you were.

It hurts. It hurts to live like this. People can say things like, it’s selfish to kill yourself. Or killing yourself isn’t the solution. That you’re only hurting the ones that love you, but if those people really loved you, then wouldn’t they want your suffering to end? Why would the people that love you want you to suffer? Aren’t they the ones being selfish? You wouldn’t force an animal that’s in pain and has little to no quality of life to continue living just because you love them. Right? That’s inhumane. So why must you keep living if you don’t have any quality of life?

These were the kind of thoughts that plagued you late at night. You tried your hardest to live on and not let anyone know that you were suffering, especially your dad.

Your dad was amazing. He’s the best father you could ask for. Maybe he isn’t perfect, but you never once doubted his love for you. You knew that one of his best friends had died when he was in highschool. You know that it severely affected him. He might not be the most affectionate person in the world, but he doesn’t have to be. His eyes and smile say it all.

One night, you couldn’t take the thoughts anymore. You decided that you would write a letter and explain to your dad why you killed yourself and tell him is wasn’t his fault. You loved him so much, he’s always been there for you. But you know how stressful his life is and you just can’t fight off the part of you that believes you’re a burden to him. Your dad doesn’t need anymore stress especially from you. So you write a note and decided to do something special for him. You wrote, played and recorded a song for him.

(Play song above or play on YouTube)

Dear God, please, hear me out

I know it's been a couple years

Since I've reached out and said hello

I bet You're wondering

Why I keep

Obsessing on and stressing all the little things

When I should be

Living life and soaking up the memories

I know I've been selfish, I have

No excuse to give you, it's true

Hanging by a thread's how I live

I don't know why, but I feel more comfortable

Living in my agony, watching my self-esteem

Go up in flames, acting like I don't

Care what anyone else thinks, when I know truthfully

That that's the furthest thing from how I

Feel, but I'm too proud to open up and ask ya

To pick me up and pull me out this hole I'm trapped in

The truth is, I need help, but I just can't imagine who

Who I'd be if I was happy

As you played the song and sang, you didn’t know that your dad had come home. He knew that you had been learning to play instruments from Hizashi but he didn’t realize you were this good. He started to walk up the stairs and as he listened to the lyrics, his heart began to hurt, as he wondered why you sang this particular song, and with such emotion too.

Yeah, been this way so long

It feels like something's off when I'm not depressed

I got some issues that I won't address

I got some baggage I ain't opened yet

I got some demons I should put to rest

I got some traumas that I can't forget

I got some phone calls I been avoiding

Some family members I don't really connect with

Some things I said I wish I would of not let slip

Some hurtful words that never should of left my lips

Some bridges burned, I'm not ready to rebuild yet

Some insecurities I haven't dealt with, yes

I'll be the first to admit that I'm a lonely soul

And the last to admit I need a hand to hold

Losing hope, headed down a dangerous road

Strange, I know, but I feel most at home when I'm

Living in my agony, watching my self-esteem

Go up in flames acting, like I don't

Care what anyone else thinks, when I know truthfully

That that's the furthest thing from how I

Feel, but I'm too proud to open up and ask ya

To pick me up and pull me out this hole I'm trapped in

The truth is, I need help, but I just can't imagine who

Who I'd be if I was happy

Your dad listed outside your door as he took in the words and began to worry and hope that you were just going through an edgy phase but with his experience, and his gut, he knew that is wasn’t just a trivial thing.

Don't know what's around the bend

Don't know what my future is

But I can't keep on living in

Living in my agony, watching my self-esteem

Go up in flames acting, like I don't

Care what anyone else thinks, when I know truthfully

That that's the furthest thing from how I

Feel, but I'm too proud to open up and ask ya

To pick me up and pull me out this hole I'm trapped in

The truth is, I need help, but I just can't imagine who

Who I'd be if I was happy

If I was happy

If I was happy

As you put down the guitar and walked up to the recording device you spoke.

“Dad, I know that you’re probably upset… no… you’re definitely upset and I’m sorry for causing you this pain, but I just couldn’t keep living like this. The pain is never ending and I don’t think it ever will. You’ve been so great to me all these years and I love you so much… I … I’m sorry. I know it hurts and I don’t ever want you to blame yourself for what I chose to do. I’m sorry I hurt you and you don’t ever have to forgive me for taking my own life, I know I won’t forgive myself for the pain it’s causing you. There wasn’t anything you could have done to prevent this… I love you… and I always will…”

You couldn’t continue as your tears overflowed and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. As you fell to the floor with your face in your hands a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a strong chest. Through your crying you could hear the crying of another person, and through your tears you saw the familiar black shirt and white capture scarf that belonged to your dad.

As you cried you wrapped your arms around your dad and continued to cry into his shoulder. He pulled you into his lap and cradled you in his arms as he held you tightly, afraid to let you go.

“I’m so sorry that you feel this way but please don’t do anything drastic, please. Baby I love you so much and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. You mean everything to me and you’re the reason I come home every day. You’re my world and my everything. So please… please… don’t kill yourself or hurt yourself anymore. I don’t think my heart could take it”

Aizawa cried as he spoke softly into your hair as he held you. He remembered the day he first met you in the hospital. Your tiny newborn body was so small, your little hand could barely wrap itself around his pinky finger, but you held his hand for the first time. Your tiny little hand held onto his finger as tears spilled down his cheeks as he took in the sight of his newborn child. He feel in love at first sight as he held your tiny body. He vowed to protect you and be there for you no matter what.

And you opened your eyes and looked into his. You were his whole world. The only things that existed in the moment were Aizawa and his newborn child. To him, you’re everything, you’re what he fight to come home to, you’re his reason to live and survive even the most gruesome and brutal fights. He’ll never give up and he’ll always come home to you. After all, that’s the promise he made you when he first met you.

As you both pulled away and looked into each other’s teary eyes, you smiled and laughed.

“What’s so funny”

“You’ve got snot on your shoulder… I’m so sorry”

You apologized but couldn’t help but laugh at that for whatever reason. Your dad just smiled softly and wrapped his arms around you.

“You do realize I changed your diapers when you were a baby right? You puked on me, shit on me, there’s no body fluid that you haven’t already gotten on me” he smiled as you laughed even harder at the image of a younger him covered in baby vomit with a grossed out face.

As you both laughed and he told you stories of you as a baby, he remembered everything he loved about you.

“I love you sweetheart, I always will. Tomorrow, we are going to the hospital to get your mental health evaluated and whatever happens, I promise I’ll be there for you, okay”

“Okay”

You gave you dad one last hug before cleaning everything up and you decided to take a bath before bed.

Part 2:

[missjulielovesbows]

please please please

good girl x bad boy trope for the win (can you guys tell i love this trope)

not proof read

probably one thousand five hundred words maybe

all your friends had… interesting opinions on toji fushiguro.

some would say he is an unfit boyfriend for you, since he was… a seasoned student. others would say he was a bad influence, hanging out with the likes of sukuna. all would say that you should’ve run when he officially asked you out.

he had a reputation for being a heartbreaker, a new girl in his arm’s every week or so. honestly, if it weren’t for his attractive looks, you wouldn’t have even batted an eye at him. though many didn’t know the heartbreak he had in middle school, a starter for his self-destructive behaviour. but regardless, toji fushiguro had grown quite the name as a playboy at high school.

so, naturally, it had soon become your turn to be his girl.

during class, he scootched next to you, cozying up next to you with that annoying smirk on his face, that scar on his lip stretching as he stared at you with half-lidded eyes.

and obviously you wacked him on the side of the head, shoving him away from you with a teasing remark to focus on your work.

but you’d be a liar if you said he didn’t cause any feelings to stir in you that day.

and that day, something else stirred in him too.

it wasn’t that girls never rejected him, it was just he planned his targets carefully – and you seemed like the perfect prey: a doe-eyed student, who had grades almost as perfect as her manners, quite a prude or a stick in the mud as some would say.

so, what surprised him was how you didn’t seem to be like the rumours said you were; you weren’t some prude who couldn’t have fun, you’d just had better things to worry about.

this led to attempt after attempt to get to know you, a genuinely fun chase between the two of you. from the teasing touches and some heart-to-heart conversations, he began to develop a deeper connection to you, as much as he may say otherwise – he had never been the best with words, his actions his stronger form of communication.

he had even asked your parents for their permission before he asked you out (the second time, at least). and while they were skeptical, they gave him the green flag.

oh, you remember it like it was yesterday, the day he – the nonchalant, popular, and masculine, toji fushiguro – came to school with a bouquet of flowers, a handwritten note (which you later were told one of his friends – suguru geto, you believed was his name – had helped him write), and a bag filled with your favourite foods.  

he had come up to you when you arrived at school, his eyes sparkling when he saw you – or maybe that was just your delusions because who wouldn’t want someone like him to swoon for you.

shoving the gifts into your arms, he mumbled something about getting your parents permission before he flashed that smirk at you again and his annoying voice asked you if he could be your boyfriend.

you had agreed, a bright smile on your face for the rest of the day (more like week according to your friends).

~~~~

“again, toji?” you ask him, rolling your eyes at the big fat c minus on his exam paper, pacing back and forth at the front of your bed, “we even studied well for this one!”

you rack a hand through your hair, knowing your parents and your friends were conflicted with your boyfriend, toji.

honestly, it was rough. undoubtedly, old habits die hard, but sometimes you just wished he’d at least try to change.

“well i promised them you’re different, and that everyone makes mistakes,” you huff out, rolling your eyes at him, “but just don’t”

watching you get all riled up and fidgety, he shrugs, leaning back on your bed, with that stupid lopsided smile on his face.

you noticed he had been smiling instead of smirking around you, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the change, minute as it is.

“ain’t m’ fault you look pretty teaching me” he teases, resting his hands behind his head as he stretches his legs out.

“well i’d be prettier for you if you weren’t on the edge of failing, toj’,” you huff out, sitting at the foot of the bed, a defeated look on your face.

“is it me? can i not teach you well?”

with a playful sigh and a roll of his eyes, he leans forward and pulls you into a hug, his wide embrace nestling you in his arms.

“oh quit it,” he chuckles out, rubbing your back comfortingly, “it’s ain’t you, doll, i just don’t try enough” he snickers out, ruffling your hair with one of his big hands as you roll your eyes at him, “next time, i promise”

he knew his words weren’t the most comforting, but he hoped his actions conveyed his feelings.

“well, at least you passed” you mumble into his chest, a smile creeping to your face. as much as you wished he would pay more attention to his academics, you love him regardless. though the whispers don’t help.

~~~~

“darl’, listen-”, he huffs out, his sentence cut off as you press a little too hard against his bruise, washing away any flecks of blood that remains, “listen, he deserved it y’know, hollerin’ ‘bout you ‘n everythin’”

you sigh and bring your attention to his face, a big purple bruise swelling on his beautiful face. touching it gently, he flinches and turns away, eliciting a huff from you.

you two were supposed to go out for dinner together, all dolled up and pretty until some stranger decided to unceremoniously express his feelings towards what you were wearing.

“please, toj’, don’t prove ‘em right” you sigh out, examining his face more, a small cut near the corner of his eye, “don’t bring me to tears when i did my make up so nice”

to be honest, it felt nice to have someone defend you like that, but it didn’t help his poor reputation.

he had seemed to improve himself; he had lost the playboy persona, his love solely yours, but he still has that annoyingly attractive flirtatiousness. however, his violent tendencies and his connections with sukuna were still not the best.

“honestly, i beg you not the embarrass me with your brash behaviour because surely there’s a better way with dealing catcallers than beating them to a bloody pulp” you scoff out, cradling an icepack to his face, “please, just stop acting so stupid in front of me”

he lets out a laugh, his eyes shining with adoration.

“well, i guess you just make me more stupid, doll”

~~~~

you had good judgement, you had good taste – though your friends said otherwise.

you knew toji wasn’t as bad as everyone else made him out to be.

but sometimes, it felt like they were right.

“toji fushiguro, i swear to you if you do one more stupid thing, i am going to handcuff you to a chair, duck-tape your mouth shut, just to keep you from doing these dumb adventures,” you grumble, pulling up to a police station.

passing the front desk lady – brenda knew you quite well, at this point, all thanks to sukuna and your boyfriend – you walk to the holding cells, eyes spotting the man you came here for.

“fushiguro, hurry up” you snap out, offering a little wave to the guard as he unlocks the cell door.

silently, he followed you, repeatedly trying to hold your hand, knowing he was in deep water.

you wrap your coat closer to your body as you step out of the building, briskly walking to your cadillac, ignoring his attempts to soothe your anger.

he steps in front of you, opening your car door, before going around to the other side.

knowing he was on thin ice, he lets out a chuckle, a hand brushing yours as you grip the steering wheel tightly.

“honey, it wasn’t me, i was only there by extension,” he hums out softly, eyes locked on yours as you drive away, “it was all ‘cause i was just ‘round near sukuna, i swear”

but he doesn’t get a response, nor does he expect one just yet.

you couldn’t say anything right now, lest you wanted to snap out at him, so you both waited till you cooled down – his eyes locked on your figure the whole drive home.

but to his surprise, you drive to an empty carpark.

once you park the car, you turn to him, eyes brimming with frustrated tears.

“please, toji, please” you mumbles out, “heartbreak is one thing, but breaking my ego is another,” you try to lighten your mood, but you can’t help but glare at him.

“i’ll stop hanging out with him” he says after a beat of silence, his eyes dead serious as he gazes into yours.

“look, you’re changin’ me for the better, doll,” he murmurs softly, an uncharacteristic flash of vulnerability falling on his face, “and, i think its time f’r me to put more effort in”

with gentle hands, he takes your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“you’ve already gotten me to ditch the playboy stuff,” he chuckles out, looking at you with such admiration in his eyes, “you’ve helped me study back in school” he murmurs out, remembering the late nights you would spend tutoring him.

“it’s the least i could do for you” he hums out, “’n i know all the stuff you’ve done for me, ‘n sacrificed f’r me” he confesses, his thumb tracing the back of your hand.

“i see the concern you have ‘cause you love me” he teases, flashing a lopsided smile “’n you get so frustrated with me a lot of the times” he chuckles out, watching you as you stay silent, soaking in his words.

“look, i aint good with words” he hums out, the dark night accentuating the sharp shadows of his face, “but i see you, and i’ve seen what you’ve done for me”

warmth fills you, your previous frustrations fizzling out. you hate how reckless and careless he can be, but you love how observant and aware he can be.

“so, please, don’t give up on me, honey”

you almost miss the words at how quiet he was.

and with a sigh and a smile, you bring him into a hug.

“please, i’ve stuck with you for this long, it would be a waste to abandon my hard work”

a/n. guys i love 'please please please' - sabrina carpenter she always knows what we need anyways live laugh love

[kamiversee]

okay so^.^ remember that angst blurb i submitted here that one time where gojo dies and she’s crying over him? now that I know part of the truth i was thinking more on it and it is so depressing.

imagine hes all bloody, suffering on the hard cold concrete floor of the sidewalk while its pouring outside. You could care less as you sit there amongst gojo’s half lifeless body. He’s still conscious but in a very bad state. Deep down you knew this was going to be the last time you saw him but your heart still clung to some hope. “Satoru, p-please just hang on! Help will be here soon!” You were choking back tears as you held his cold weak hand in both of yours. Satoru himself was trying his best to hold back the tears pricking his beautiful blue eyes. He flashed a small smile at you, despite how bad he was hurting, he still wanted to make you feel like he was okay. He gathered the few strength he had left in his right arm and placed a wet cold hand on your puffy red cheek. “Its..going to be okay, Sweets.” He was barely able to mutter out those few words and he still had so much he wanted, no, needed to tell you. You shook your head at him. “You’re going to be okay. Y-you just need to hang on a while longer. Please, just a bit more.” You were drenched from the rain and you had started to get hiccups from how cold it was but, you didn’t care. Satoru needed you. You needed him.

Gojo let out a soft chuckle. “I-I think it’s over for me, Sweets.” A tear had began to roll down his cheek and he could feel himself slipping away from reality. He knew he only had a few minutes left but he needed to hold on. He needed to stay awake a little longer. For you. You shook your head and squeezed his hand harder. “You cant. Please, Satoru. I need you.” His eyes went soft and his grip on your cheek tightened slightly. “You dont need me, Sweetheart. You’ll be fine.” He gave you a sympathetic smile. His vision went blurry for a second before he forced his eyes to refocus. Shit. He really needed to make this fast.

“Sweets, listen. I love you s’much. I’m sorry we couldn’t have the love story we deserved but I want you to know that if it was up to me, I would have never chosen for us to fall in love the way we did. I would have wanted us to find eachother normally and experience pure innocent love without anything in our way. I didn’t make that list, love. I would never have chosen to put you through any of that and it hurt me having to do so.” Your eyes widened a bit, listening to possibly the last words you’ll ever hear from the man you once knew as your blackmailer. Well, he wasn’t really your blackmailer anymore, was he?

Gojo’s thumb wiped one of your tears away as he continued. “I don’t want to die knowing that you still believed I was the one at fault for the list. It wasn’t my doing and it never would have been. The only thing I am guilty of is loving you because in a way, that’s what caused this whole mess. But never will I regret any of it because loving you was the best thing that has ever happened to me….I love you, Sweets.” Your eyes scanned his face, searching for more as fat globs of tears rolled down your cheeks. You felt gojo’s left hand start to feel light as his other one slowly slipped off your cheek. You were snapped back to reality as you shook both of Satoru’s shoulders. “Satoru! Satoru! Please, answer me! No, no, no! SATORU!”

You continued to yell his name until you gave out and laid your head on his chest, sobbing and whispering out his name. The rain drenched the both of you as you laid there with him. No one ever came, the rain never stopped, and worst of all..satoru never woke up.

“I love you too, Toru.” Words that he would never hear because you said them far too late..

(SORRY THIS WAS KINDA LONG BUT I HAD TO UPDATE MY PAST BLURB SINCE WE KNOW PART OF THE TRUTH NOW. It isnt really that sad either and kinda rushed since I’m half asleep right now =.= butt its a fun little imagine either way!><)

(and i wanted to mention sukuna’s name but it was kind of awkward so i js left it like that^.^)

and hope i’m not bothering you !! just wanted to share this one with you since you loved the last one^.^

-🥹

Almost made me write a second segment to this but with Sukuna being the person who caused Gojo to be in this state 😀

I’m not joking, I stared into space for a good 20mins after reading this… BUT i can’t write a second part without spoiling things UGH.

Anywho, this is so amazing, ily, I love angst, I love this. Lowkey thought abt making a whatif… Gojo died BUT, who’s gonna read thaaat? 😅😅😅 (Im still considering it LMAO)

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 23

Cw: unintentional bodyshaming, mentions of symptomatic pregnancy in men, prophecied infant death, bullying, implications of religion persecuting people

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @darylandbethfanforever9 @aemondx @ewanmitchellcrumbs @sweethoneyblossom1

Gif:@elena-gilbert

Being a hostage is surprisingly fun.

Apart from leaving the keep, he is quite free.

He has trained with her Queensguard, read until his eye hurt, eaten good food, had intelligent conversation with her courtiers and, best of all, had her in his bed every night.

Sure, he must be loyal to his brother and he cannot stand her brothers ---the feeling being mutual--- but he was quite content as her prisoner.

“If Teora pinches my cheek again and tells me I look like Daemon, I will tell her she looks like Vaemond.” Aemond complains to Helaena as he sits on his stool like a good boy as she presses his hair with her hot comb.

“Don’t say that, she will be sad and then Daenaera will cry and then I will cry too.” Helaena talked him out of it as of he had been serious.

“It was a joke, Hel. A bad one. It’s just annoying to wear Daemon’s old clothes. These haven’t been in fashion since we were born.” He clarifies and she nods.

“Yes, Teora said he wore that when he came to court Aunt Laena. Goodmother Alarra and Aunt Rhaenys say most men gain a few stones after marriage, Daemon was no different, I suppose.” She said as she continued doing his hair.

He snorts at her words knowing his sweet sister doesn’t understand that she just called Daemon fat.

She didn’t even understand why Aemma, and everybody had found his toast to be in bad taste.

“Daeron ate as much as me when I was with child both times, Daemon shared Rhaenyra’s morning sickness, I suspect you will too.” Helaena chatters away knowing she has a captive audience.

Marriage had made her very happy; her husband did not care she never lost the baby weight last year and went as far as going to Pentos for fresh fruits.

“How do you know that?” he asks as she put the comb down and brushed his hair with her mother of pearl brush.

“She has not complained about bleeding or cramping or bloating. The two of you do the deed as much as Daeron and me, from what’s she said to me in confidence.” His sister answered with a small sad sigh. “A shame he will be like his namesake.”

“What?” he asks, his voice catching in his throat as he is told their first child is going to die.

“Aemma and I talk, like confidants do. She cannot talk about these things with Baela or Rhaena or even her other ladies, save for the two of us most of them are still unmarried and yes, it is a little uncomfortable to talk about what you two do under the sheets because you’re my brother and I still remember when you used to pick your nose when mama wasn’t looking ---.” Helaena explains in her ramble the wrong part of her answer.

“Not that, Hel, what do you mean the babe will die?” he asks in a whisper.

“Oh, I don’t know. I just know that but no details. Like when I told you that you were going to lose an eye, but I didn’t know it was because you would get into a scrap with the twins and the boys.” she said with a shrug. “I need to study an insect to know more, but Dany doesn’t give me much free time these days.

Maybe he will live to father children or not, I just know his life will not be long. I will tell you when I know more of it.”

He had forgotten Helaena’s dragon dreams, they used to come so often when they were little that they feared mother would let the Faith burn her for witchcraft.

Aegon used to bully her for them too.

Anything that made him feel insecure or had father’s attention would do the trick.

It wasn’t Helaena’s fault that they could spend hours talking about dragons and bugs and fixing his model of Old Valyria because Hel knew how the freehold looked like in truth.

Anymore than it was Aemond’s fault that father believed he was destined for a great and untamable dragon.

And now he was king.

And if Aemma lost, her life depended on having his heir.

An heir that needed to live to succeed him.

“Aemma cannot know about this.”

The last time she wore this much black, her father had died.

Her father had been stabbed in the back repeatedly by his lover and Aemma’s former sworn shield and left to rot in a field near Spicetown.

They had gone down to the fair and he had left them under Daemon’s watchful eye while he took care of some business.

Ser Qarl was to leave for reasons Aemma hadn’t comprehended yet and instead of leaving with his dignity he, he drew his dagger and killed her father out of anger.

They had barely started wearing colors again after Aunt Laena, and then they had to return to wearing mourning black again.

Aemma has run out of black dresses and looks at the ones her mother once wore when she was her age.

She had given them all to her as Baela and Rhaena split Laena’s between them.

The hems had to be let out, some had to be torn apart and redone to accommodate Aemma’s height, but in the end all fit perfectly.

Mother hadn’t liked black all that much when she was a girl, preferred light colors like soft golds and reds and pinks.

Aemma picks out the black dress her mother wore at her mother’s funeral.

It was a simple thing, black honeycomb cotton with a black lacing on the sleeves, a silver coin girdle and metal dragons on the neckline.

It had been cool, the first cool of autumn when they burned her and the heir for a day.

Strange how both women died in autumn.

“Ser Otto has come to present the Dowager Queen’s terms, your grace.” The Lord Commander of her Queensguard, Steffon Darklyn, says as they begin court in the Dragonstone Throne Room.

“Bring him in, Lord Commander. Have bread and salt and water brought in for our guests.” She says knowing Daemon is itching to shorten the former Hand of the King by a head.

“As you wish.” He says before ordering his squire to run that errand for them.

Aemond should be here, and he is standing beside Helaena and Daeron amongst the courtiers.

“I come at the behest of Queen Mother, Alicent Hightower, mother of King Aegon, Second of His Name, Lord and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms.

I’ve been directed to deliver these terms to Princess Aemma Velaryon.” The former hand begins, no longer afforded the power and prestige of his former office and reduced to simply an advisor.

It is laughable how quickly his dreams were shattered by Aegon’s hand.

It must be killing him that a common man born of Dornish servants has his job now.

“Ah, but you see, Ser Otto, Princess Aemma Velaryon is no more. I am Queen Aemma Targaryen now, I have been so since the day my mother and sister died because of your and your daughter’s treachery.

Present your queen’s terms.” Aemma felt nervous, a thrill at being able to say what she wanted to say and know there were no longer any consequences for it.

Power gave you a voice and the tools to carry out the impossible.

No wonder the man before him became addicted to it.

“King Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name… in his wisdom and desire for peace, is offering terms:

Acknowledge your husband, Aegon, as king and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne.

In exchange, His Grace will confirm you as queen consort and declare any child of your body his heir.

Prince Jacaerys will be confirmed as the legitimate heir to Driftmark and all the lands and holdings of House Velaryon.

Prince Lucerys will squire for the new Lord Hand; Prince Joffrey will be made page until he is old enough to foster and squire for the king and their present betrothals honored.

Your brothers born to the late Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon will also be given places of high honor at court: Aegon the Younger as the King’s squire, Viserys as his cupbearer.

Finally, the King, in his good grace, will pardon any knight or lord who conspired against his ascent.”

To those who do not know how this places her brothers and stepsisters as hostages at court, these seem perfectly reasonable.

To those who see through this shit they are to be rejected immediately.

“I would rather feed my sons to the dragons than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken, usurper cunt of a king.” Daemon leans on Dark Sister, ready to make a second Vaemond out of the king’s grandfather.

But they are not to break the guest right and even Daemon knows better than to do so.

“We refuse his terms, Ser. You may tell him so.” Aemma speaks calmly and coldly. “I am queen as dictated by King Viserys’ and my lady mother’s will, if it were not enough, my father, the late Ser Laenor was the firstborn son of Prince Aemon’s only heir. Why should I submit to a man with a claim weaker than mine when by right of birth and that of the king’s last will, the Iron Throne belongs to me?”

“Aegon Targaryen sits the Iron Throne.” Ser Otto begins his response, his eyes never betraying the fact that he hates being talked down by a girl old enough to be his grandchild.

“He wears the Conqueror’s crown, wields the Conqueror’s sword, has the Conqueror’s name. He was anointed by the High Septon of the Faith before the eyes of thousands. Every symbol of legitimacy belongs to him.”

“A ruler needs a good head and a true heart. A cock is not essential.” Aemma quotes Queen Alysanne’s famous last words to King Jaehaerys. “My husband only has the third and it is optional, tell me do all those symbols give him a good head and a true heart when he does not possess them?”

“Queen Alicent has not forgotten the love she and your mother held for each other once. No blood need be spilled, so the realm can carry on in peace.

Queen Alicent eagerly awaits your answer, your highness.” Otto finished his piece and reminded her they would never see her reign as legitimate.

“Tell the king these are my terms:

The first that he recognizes me as Queen Regnant by honoring his late father’s will, the second that all those executed by him be given over to the Silent Sisters and returned to their families, and third, the heads or tongues of those who decided the King’s Will would not be honored as it is dictated by every law in the Seven Kingdoms.

Those who choose to live may join the Night’s Watch or the Faith. I hear silent orders are known for their virtue.”

None of these terms will be agreed to. Aegon would have folded without a second thought, but he is only a king in name.

And sure, Criston Cole was an iron fist, but he has not been taught to govern like a lord or a king and in her case, a queen.

War was inevitable, that had been decided the moment Ser Otto chose to whore out his five- and ten-year-old daughter to the king.

“You may leave this moment and arrive at the Red King before the King has his supper and leaves to visit his favorite brothel.”

[stardustprompts]

the shining  -  stephen king  sentence starters  change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying     tw ;   death ,  language ,  alcohol ,  implied abuse ,  violence 

‘that’s a long time to have to wait.’

‘sometimes he does things he’s sorry for later.’

‘a man can’t help his nature.’

‘(name), promises don’t work with you.’

‘I really bitched things up for myself.’

‘that’s what I like about you. your taste runs to the quiet, the somber, the introspective.’

‘it’s like I can’t remember because it’s so bad that I don’t want to remember.’

‘this inhuman place makes human monsters.’

‘it’s been hell for you, hasn’t it?’

‘are you sure self - pity is a luxury you can afford?’

‘I won’t be mad. I can’t be mad, because this is too important.’

‘I want to do what’s right. And I don’t know. It’s like a choice between the fat and the fire.’

‘a real artist must suffer.’

‘each man kills the thing he loves.’

‘i’ve never had a nightmare like that. I never want to have another one.’

‘never gonna let me forget that, are you?’

‘go ahead, yell your fucking head off, that’ll make everything okay, won’t it?’

‘I talk in my sleep?’

‘i’m as worried about this as you are, so please … don’t shout.’

‘it’s time you got some of the home truths into you. they’re knocking around your head like a bunch of loose cue balls.’

‘you need to understand that we are snowed in.’

‘okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I sounded mad. it’s not really for you.’

‘you have to understand that some things … are hard to get over. you have to understand that.’

‘I like to hear you ramble.’

‘you know I’m telling the truth.’

‘you want me to apologize for calling you a bastard? all right, I apologize. I’m sorry.’

‘I always thought I could keep my promises.’

‘fire will kill anything.’

‘you must show them the error of their ways.’

‘a thankless child is sharper than a serpent’s tooth.’

‘I make my own decisions.’

‘we live to fight another day.’

‘you never loved me.’

‘you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re drunk.’

‘did you think I wouldn’t figure it out. did you think I was stupid?’

‘you’ve always been jealous, haven’t you? you couldn’t be satisfied unless you had all the cake, could you?’

‘i’ll kill you for that.’

‘you’re not there! you’re not there at all!’

‘you can’t stay long. because it’s coming.’

‘you don’t scare me.’

‘you’ll never get what you want from me.’

‘run away. quick. and remember how much I love you.’

‘you aren’t what you were, but that isn’t necessarily bad.’

‘we can’t have any secrets. that’s just how it is.’

‘sometimes I wish it had been me. it was my fault. all my fault.’

‘if things get too rough, you just call me and I’ll come.’

‘the way things should be and the way things are hardly ever get together.’

‘the worlds a hard place, it don’t care.’

‘that’s your job in this hard world, to keep your love alive and see that you get on, no matter what.’

‘you won’t die for a long time, will you?’

[nerdyenby]

DR pt2 reactions (spoilers)

Episode 11

Opening scene hypeeeeeee!!!!! Love seeing them all work together, there’s definitely been a soft timeskip with Arin and Sora’s costume upgrades and how well they fit together

Lloyd’s handling Wyldfyre pretty well, respecting her boundaries while making sure she feels welcome anytime

Ray and Maya!!! Are they alive lol? Will we ever find out??

“The monastery works best when everything is in its proper place” *cue explosion*

Not listening to Zane is the cause of 85% of problems in this show

Kai and Wyldfyre’s rivalry is everything, actually

I will never stop gawking at the new animation, it’s so beautiful ;-;

Yayyyyyyy propaganda /s

Aye, Sora’s parents!!!! Seems like they’re having doubts mayhaps

Keep questioning authority kids, you’re getting there

Kids get it done!!!

I am begging all the water, fire/heat, and ice elementals to practice some critical thinking and remember that ghosts cannot touch water

The delivery on Nya’s “Whaaaaaat?!??” was so good lmao

“Eh, it never came up” LMAOOOOOOO he was so deadpan I’m dying

“How hard can it be?” Arin I stg why would you say that

Frohicky!!!!!!!

Lloyd is so awkward I love him

Arin and Sora having a handshake <333

Episode 12

We love a villain whose pride is 90% of the reason they fail

If they start deadnaming Sora I’m gonna throw hands

I was so ready for them to confirm Kai’s age, should’ve known better tbh

Lloyd is such a good mentor, I could cry

They’re playing catch :((

Lloyd’s little “that was the last of our dinner plates” lmao

Has the Bounty actually operated as a ship before? In the course of the show?? Kinda love that they’re treating her like an actual boat now

Merlopians!!!!!

GAY PEOPLE!!!!!!!

Revolution counter: 1

That was so funny and for what

If they make it through this episode without mentioning Bentho I will be so sad

WAIT is the crab controlling the merlopians instead of the other way around????

CALLED IT

So glad the merlopians aren’t the bad guys here

Episode 13

Kai isn’t handling not being the most unpredictable person in the group very well

Kai’s girlbossing his way through life, as he should

Zane being down to drink motor oil but not fly juice is so valid tbh

Frohickey and Zane’s dynamic is so silly I love them

Zane you literally have a human disguise lol, kinda love him being comfortable enough with who he is that he prefers to stay as a nindroid even in disguise tho

Is that his detective costume from prime empire???? Now I’m thinking about what the ninja’s closets look like

Wyldfyre causing problems on purpose my beloved, she’s such a menace, I love her

I’m really enjoying seeing all the seemingly forgotten species come back, have we seen these skeleton people since season 1??

“Ninjasplaining” IM DEAD

The lavatides have such fun character designs

How did the other realms know about the ninja before the merge? Like it makes sense, but how about the practicality of it??

“Ok this is just getting silly” this show makes me so happy you guys

Zane has a holiday, as he deserves!!

So ready to watch Zane lose a Zane lookalike contest, surely nothing could go awry

GULCH :D

Challenging Kai with a character even more headstrong and proud then him is such a good move, it provides so many opportunities to showcase how much he’s grown

Poor Zane, this man does not need another ship of Theseus crisis

Damn, I’m kinda emo over this message

LIGHTNING??!???!?

Episode 14

I miss Pixal so bad, man

Frohickey’s trying so hard, I would die for him

Sora honey, I love you but please check that cognitive dissonance, the things going wrong are not your fault, none of it is your fault.

This show’s comedic timing is everything, I never get tired of it

Fat rip to Clutch’s book, no brobrogoogoo today :(

“Long before the Merge, Djinnjago was destroyed” Nya, are you not gonna mention that you were the one to destroy it???????

“Bad news first: our mission was a failure, also we have no good news” Sora is so fucking funny you guys

Frohickey is having such a rough time, poor guy

Nya having a lightning dragon can be so personal

Sora the dragon’s name is Zanth!!!!! Best resolution to the “other Sora” thread imo

I love this guys attitude so much lol

Confirmation that Riyu’s a special lil guy <3

The depressed icon we never knew we needed

Arrakore my beloved

Zane and Frohickey’s friendship is so precious

Episode 15

I like how Kai and Wyldfyre didn’t have a specific moment of “oh hey you don’t suck” its just “we’re too similar and it’s kinda annoying but you’re cool sometimes”

Why didn’t we get to see Arrakore’s song :((

Nya’s being so chill with Arrakore being djinn, obviously he has nothing to do with Nadakhan but it’s still nice, he also seems massively less racist so that’s good

Nya’s dragon finally has a name, Jiro my beloved :))

Arin infodumping and Lloyd just “mhm-ing” my beloved

Asking nicely always works, apparently

I entirely forgot about Rapton lmao

Is it Cole time??? I want it to be Cole time

*motivational music* “all life is important” “… but that’s Rapton 🤨” I love Arin

HEATWAVE TO THE RESCUE!!!! Though where has he been up til now??

Lloyd being like “yeah sure, how impossible can it be?” and being entirely justified is the most him thing ever

COLE TIMEEEEEE HELL YEAHH!!!!!!!!

Episode 16

Cole and Nya hug <3333

Someone other than Zane mentioned Pix, a day for the history books

Glad to see Cole’s as OP as ever lmao

Oh they’re so gay

I didn’t even think about that, it’s so fascinating that the earth is unsettled by everything that’s happened

That’s so sad what the hell, so in character for Cole to just adopt a buncha orphans tho

WHAT THE FUUUUUUCK IM SO ABNORMAL ABOUT THIS

Sora I love you but that is the worst possible way to phrase that

Kai talking about the importance of other ways of helping and how combat isn’t everything and showing Wyldfyre a healing technique :(( I’ve been rewatching s1 and he’s come so far

Geo :(( things are better now, but change didn’t come soon enough for him and now he’s Lost

Borg mention!!!!!!

Also I love having a reference point for Sora and Nya’s skillsets, it’s also just so heartwarming to see adults who are wholly supportive and unafraid of younger people being better than them

Cole is so out of the loop lmao

Zanth :0

Oh you bitch

Cole and Geo are so in love :(

Episode 17

I entirely forgot about this plot point lol

Oh this is so dystopian

Kai in a mentor role means everything to me

They’re actually addressing Kai’s grief??? Hell yeah, fucking finally /lh

Alright, betting time: Jay or Pixal?

Lloyd and Arin are so silly, I love them

Zane???!?!!?!

Zane really just sat in that office, huh (/ref but it’s so vague I’d be shocked if anyone got it)

It’s a part of the realm of madness oh my goodness that’s hilarious

“Are they safe for people?” “No” *proceeds to shove them both in there*

Zane had way too much fun with that superhero landing lol

JAYYYYYYYYYY HOLY SHIT ITS JAY NINJAGO!!!!!!!

Zane is having so much fun this episode, he’s just getting shit done and looking great doing it

So we’re not getting Jay back yet? Rip

Zane is so polite what the heck

Episode 18

So Wyldness confirmed to be the same realm as Imperium???

Is Beatrix gonna have the same origin story as Kalmaar??

Nya and Cole’s friendship is so tender and caring, they’re besties your honor

LaRow trash talking Rapton to his face lmao

Rapton redemption arc!??!????!

It’s so interesting seeing the backstory of Ras and Beatriz’s alliance after it’s already fallen apart

Wyldfyre did not need to be told twice lmao

THAT ACTION SEQUENCE HELLOOOO?!????? THEY WERE THROWING AROUND THOSE GUARDS LIKE A FUCKING VOLLEYBALL

From a psychological perspective, Beatrix is fascinating

Revolution counter: 2!!!!!!!

Episode 19

Lloyd letting Kai take point on wrangling Wyldfyre only for Kai to immediately match her energy my beloved

“You have no idea how foolish some of us can be!!” Pffff “-no offense Lloyd” PFFFFFFF

Interesting to go the “non bender revolution” route considering how few elemental masters there are compared to avatar where benders are a vast majority, but it’s a villain whose power hungry so makes sense and I’m entirely down

The quips this episode are impeccable

They built an hq??? Hasn’t it only been a week or two??

So much is interconnected in this season I’m kinda not following some of it, but I love it

Percival monologue going off!!!!!!

Sora main character fr fr

Kai and Wyldfyre are everything

Kinda iconic that Nya just hasn’t mentioned that she found Cole lol

That scene with the guard was so good!!!! The suspense and the realization of just how deep the resistance runs…. It’s such a good moment

Love that as soon as Kai has Wyldfyre even slightly reined in he’s down to let loose and make messes with her, as long as it’s for a good cause lol

That extra delivered with that cry holyyy

Heck yeah Rapton redemption :D

Rapton out here with the guardians of the galaxy motivation and I’m loving it

The fight choreography in this show never ceases to amaze me, holy crap

Sora’s speech goes so hard, I’m tearing up

Finally got confirmation the og ninja are in their twenties, thank god

One thing about Nya is that she will never pass up an opportunity to call her brother stupid

Episode 20

Rapton calling Dorama a “washed up clown” is everything I never knew I needed lmao

The stakes are staking

The glitch effect??? Hello spiderverse!!!

The platonic love on display this season is killing me, they all care about each other sm :((

That Rapton Nya interaction was so good and for what

Sora’s parents >:(

Deadnaming their kid and guilt tripping her saying she “abandoned you,” damn Sora’s response is so fucking cathartic as a trans person with unaccepting parents

I’m just here for the ride and having a great time

Frohickey!!!!!!!!!

Lloyd doing ye ole Chosen One things, as he should

Kai and Wyldfyre hug <3333

Dragon heritage mention???? Mayhaps???????

That was cryptic, cool though

Lloyd sees so much of himself in these kids 😭😭😭

Jordana boutta get the Harumi treatment fr

[skylarstark4826]

They carried his body in on a stretcher. The medical droids were buzzing all around the room.

Rey stood outside the medical quarters in shock, she couldn’t believe what was happening. How could any of this happen? She looked at Hux’s body, on the stretcher, covered in blood and she couldn’t imagine that he was actually still alive. He’d been shot, three times, once in his upper chest and twice in the stomach, but somehow he was still clinging to life.

Kylo stormed into the room then. “Is he going to live? Tell me!” he yelled out at the medics and droids in the room.

“Sir.” The first medical officer stated nervously, “He’s been shot, three times, but if we are able to get him stabilized and get him into the bacta tank, there is every chance that he will make a full recovery.”

“He better!” Kylo barked out, furious at his powerlessness, furious that this even happened. 

He walked over to Rey and put his arm around her shoulder as she stood watching it all, tears in her eyes. 

“He’s going to make it Rey. I know it. He’s going to be fine.” Kylo tried to reassure her.

“I honestly don’t know what I’d do if he doesn’t.” she said softly as another fat tear slid down her cheek.

They hovered there watching the medical staff and droids do their work. They were able to stabilize him and connect him to the life support apparatus and then slip him into the bacta tank.

The medical officer walked back over to Kylo and Rey. “It will be a matter of days now, but we are cautiously optimistic about his recovery.”

Kylo let out a growl “If you let him die, I will kill you.” 

Rey tugged at his arm. “Don’t. Don’t do that. Come on. There’s nothing more we can do here.” 

She pulled him with her down the halls of the Finalizer, walking quietly. She felt the rage and sorrow pouring off him in waves. They got to his quarters and walked inside. 

Once inside he took off his helmet and threw it across the room so it slammed into the wall. 

“I told him not to go to that conference. I knew something was off about it. They’re saying that this was an assassination attempt. I should have been there!” he yelled out.

Rey tried to calm him. “He wouldn’t let you go. You know he’s too stubborn for that. He said he needed you here. This isn’t your fault Kylo.” 

“OF COURSE IT’S MY FAULT!” he screamed out. “I should have been there to protect him and I wasn’t.” 

She walked over to him and took his gloved hands in hers and squeezed them looking up into his eyes. His expression was pained and angry.

“It’s not your fault any more than it is mine. We couldn’t have known this was going to happen. Even with your ‘bad feeling’ and we couldn’t have stopped him doing what he wanted. He’s as stubborn as they come and neither of us were going to be able to convince him to let us go to this conference. He didn’t want two force users there drawing attention away from the issues at hand.” She said calmly trying to soothe him.

Kylo nodded and sighed, “I know you’re right but I’m so angry. So worried. We can’t lose him Rey. Not when we’ve finally…” he paused and was silent a moment, then continued “… not when we three have finally come together like we have.” His confidence from earlier was clearly shaken. "Not after what we finally share together." 

She reached up and cupped his cheek. “I know and we won’t lose him. He’s going to be fine. We have to believe that.” 

She walked with him over to the sofa and sat, pulling off his gloves and holding his bare hands in hers. “These last few weeks have been wonderful. We’re finally together like we’ve always wanted. It’s been the happiest any of us have been in, well as long as we can remember. But it’s not over and it’s not done. He’s going to be alright. I know it.” 

Kylo looked deeply into her hazel eyes. “I want to believe you.” 

“Then try, just trust me in this.” She said softly. 

“Alright.” He leaned down then and nuzzled his face to her chest, pressing her down on the sofa and laying the two of them back. 

She held him tightly, his head cradled on her breasts, running her fingers through his thick dark hair.

Rey said “At least the assassin is dead. We can take some small comfort in that.” 

Kylo said quietly “But I didn’t get to kill him and that infuriates me.” 

“I know.” She said quietly, her fingers gently massaging his scalp.

“We still need to investigate this whole thing. I want to know who is behind all this and crush them.” He growled out.

“I know.” She repeated. “and we will. I promise.” 

He closed his eyes and let himself drift.

The next two days passed slowly, as if they were both in a fog. They would get up, go to the medical quarters to check on Hux to see how he was doing. The medical staff were optimistic and told them that there was little their presence there could do, but it didn’t matter. They stayed anyway, standing outside the bacta tank, watching him.

On the second day Rey said softly “His wounds seem to be healing, he is looking a lot better.” 

Kylo simply nodded, acknowledging her words. 

They stood there for what seemed like hours and then walked away.

They tried to keep up their normal routine, their training, their study, but everything felt flat and empty.

The following morning, they got word that he was out of the bacta tank, awake and they could visit him in the medical quarters.

They went immediately to see him. He was sitting up slightly in the bed. He was clearly still not fully recovered. He was paler than ever and seemed incredibly tired, but they watched him argue with the medical staff.

“What do you mean I can’t have my cigarettes? If three blaster shots didn’t kill me, why would a cigarette matter hrmm?” he glared at the doctors.

“We’re sorry Sir but no cigarettes until you’re fully recovered.” they replied quietly.

“How the hell am I supposed to recover without my damn cigarettes?” his voice began to raise but he caught himself. He was not going to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him upset. This entire situation was embarrassing enough as it is.

Rey and Kylo walked over to see him. Hux’s expression changed completely. It softened and there was a look of pure relief and peace that came over him.

“Well you look like shit.” Kylo said simply.

Hux chuckled “Very astute observation, Ren.” He said with his usual sardonic wit.

Rey however was not as removed and walked over to hug him gently. “I’m so glad you’re alright.” she said softly and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Of course I’m alright. Did you think I’d leave you alone with this big bantha here? Someone has to look after the two of you.” He said with shocking warmth, his hand reaching up to touch her cheek gently.

The medical staff stood around with shocked looks on their face at the display but then politely moved away to give the threesome their privacy.

“I told the doctors that I want you moved to your private quarters as soon as possible.” Kylo stated frankly. “Rey and I are perfectly capable of looking after you while you recover.” 

Hux’s narrow red brow arched. “You? Take care of me?” he chuckled. “Ren you can barely take care of yourself.” 

Kylo glared at him. “You know I think I might have liked you better in the bacta tank, at least you were quiet.” 

Rey slapped at Kylo’s arm then. “Don’t you say that. And don’t you two start arguing already. He’s just getting well now and we don’t want to set that back.” 

Kylo rolled his eyes, as did Hux, but the two men looked at one another and shared a gaze that spoke of intense affection and understanding.

“The staff said they could possibly move you to your quarters as early as today. As soon as you’re there they are to notify me and Rey and we will come to see to your needs. Are you going to fight me on this?” he asked with an intensely protective tone.

Hux sighed, rolled his eyes again and shook his head. “No. I’m not going to fight you on this. Fine.” 

Rey smiled and kissed his cheek. “Good. We’ll see you in a few hours.” 

Kylo simply met Hux’s gaze, then gave a nod and turned on his heel to leave the medical quarters. Rey followed after him. 

She looked up at Kylo as they walked. “Do you think you two could manage not to argue for a week or so? At least while he’s healing up?” 

“I am not the one who is always arguing, it’s him. He’s so stubborn, full of himself and unbending. You know that.” He said in a frustrated tone.

Rey chuckled. “Oh yes, he is so stubborn and full of himself and unbending. Not like anyone else I know.” 

Kylo narrowed his eyes. “I am not like that.” 

Rey smirked “Sure you’re not.” 

-------

Hux was not a good patient. He was surly and impatient and annoyed most of the time. 

Rey didn’t seem to mind but Kylo was having none of it. The two of them argued most of the time, especially when it was time to change the dressing on his wounds. 

Kylo would sit on the bed to do it.

“Stop being such a baby.” Kylo bit out.

“I’m not being a baby, Ren, I just don’t think I need this damn dressing changed again so soon. Perhaps you just want to get my shirt off.” Hux teased.

Kylo narrowed his eyes. “The last thing I’m interested in doing right now is getting sexual with you Hux. You’re kriffing injured. And don’t try to flirt with me.”

Hux sighed and let his head fall back. “Fine Fine. Just do what you need to do.” 

Kylo changed the dressings on his wounds, his large hands were surprisingly gentle as he did, his dark eyes turning upward to meet Hux’s occasionally as he did so. Hux was still and quiet letting Kylo do his work and when he was done, Hux reached his hand out to grasp Kylo’s and hold it for a long moment.

“Thank you. For doing this. For all of it.” He said softly.

Kylo smiled gently, a smile that was reserved for Hux and Rey alone. “You’re welcome.” He paused then, “Rey and I were terrified when you came in on that stretcher.” He admitted.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare either of you. I hate to admit it but I should have let you come to that conference with me. I should learn by now to trust your instincts. I won’t let a mistake like that happen again.” He said on a sigh.

“Good.” Kylo said quickly, surprised that their hands were still together.

Rey was standing at the door to the room watching the beautiful display of warmth and smiled.

“I’m glad to see the two of you actually getting along.” She said softly.

The two men looked up to see her standing there. Hux couldn’t help thinking how beautiful she looked, her hair actually down and flowing over her shoulders. She always wore her hair like that when the three of them were in private and he loved it. She was an angel and she saved them both, him and Kylo.

Kylo smiled at her and held out his free hand to her to come join them. 

She walked over and pulled up a chair beside the bed and reached her hand to rest atop their two that were already joined. They were quiet then for a long time, the feeling of affection and desire rose in the room and the intensity of what they felt for one another, for what they shared together, filled all of them.

Hux finally broke the silence. “So when can I get out of this damned bed.” He complained.

Rey rolled her eyes and chuckled. “You’re the worst patient ever.” 

He laughed. “I know.” 

Kylo looked between the two of them and said “Soon, but until then just let us take care of you okay?” 

Hux simply nodded his assent and feeling completely at peace, closed his eyes.

[k3n3al]

peace

Remember days I ain’t have no rest

Plenty things I regret

i Know where I’m headed

remember you didn’t respond when i sent it

remember you wanted money and i spent it

remember you wanted an apartment i rent it

remember when you said you’re pregnant

i was locked away

i couldn’t even kill myself

i was all by myself

i stopped loving myself

i didn’t want to help myself

i hated myself

he stayed with you every night

i was in my room with no light

i hated life and i didn’t want to fight

i just wished the baby was mine

you made fun of my body

and you loved his

you said i’m small

and he’s big

you said i’m fat

and he’s skinny

i felt like a boy

and he was your man

we used to smoke everyday

i used to roll us a blunt

because you say you had a long day

you roll him backwoods everyday

i just want to get out the way

you told me he hits you daily

i thought we could be together again maybe

i remember when i called you baby

i remember when we wanted a baby

i remember i was gonna be in the navy

i remember you said you hate me

you told me that you were so happy

with him

i wanted to jump off a building

but i was too scared i felt like a bitch

i remember when you had the baby shower

i wanted to die and become a flower

i was alone everyday for 24 hours

i spent my 23rd birthday alone

in my room

i felt comfortable in gloom

i wanted my doom

i wanted my tomb

i felt like a coward

maybe it was my fault

you went to another man

maybe it was my fault

and you should’ve ran

maybe this was all Gods plan

and i’m meant to be alone

you never answered your phone

the winter was so cold

i stopped talking to family

i didn’t have friends

i really thought it was the end

i wanted God to end it all

i just wanted to fall

and never wake up

on my off days

i would sleep until the day was over

then i would turn over

and sleep more

i slept from December to November

the residents at my job kept me happy

i just wanted to work

and i sent my money to you

i paid your rent because i loved you

you gave birth

she came out and looked nothing like me

your baby was born in march 2022

i died march 2022

i thought we would die together

i died alone

you had a new king in my throne

he wasn’t even there to see his baby born

we got back together

and i thought i could make you happy

then i met another girl

and she made me happy

you cried every night and i felt horrible

you told me you were suicidal

i left that girl and went back to you

you told me i was horrible

i believed you

then later i met another girl at work

i thought maybe we could make it work

i should have told you like a man

but i hid it from you and it was my plan

but she found out

and told me i’ll go to hell

i believed her and i punished myself

everyday

i hated myself even more

you told me that you wanted more

you told me that i was the worst

you told me that i’m a slut

you told me you wished you never met me

i wished i was never born

i cried alone every night

i asked God to show me the light

i thought God gave up on me

so i wanted to leave

maybe hell really was for me

maybe the devil would accept me

and understand me

but i had to snap out of it

satan had a hold on me

i looked for God and he helped me

we went on more dates but i wasn’t happy

when i looked at daughter i only saw him

your baby would smile at me

maybe we can make this work

you told me i’m a pervert

and i should not be around her

i believed you and i hated myself

i don’t know what to do anymore

i can’t make you happy

i’m not happy

maybe this is what i deserve

maybe i deserve to die

i just hope one day

i can be a tree

and be free

and maybe i’ll finally

rest

in

peace

[williowdrake]

1.Could cause sense of unease

Written words are warnings

released energy are signs.

Deny them and you will surely fail.

We do not kill unless provoked.

So watch your back,

else you’d choke.

2.

Words form in weird patterns,

incoherent, frozen, pain,

that’s what you’d get when you go back.

Back to the beginning, the beginning of time,

before you and I,

before them and this,

before here and now.

Brain formed, destined to leave

not fully gone,

not fully obscene.

Forgotten places, distanced faces

merge together

to form as one.

You are one of us.

You can not hide from the sun.

3.I would like this to be read at some point. Please and thank you :)

I can not take credit

for what you have done.

It is not my words

I didn’t make the sun.

My words are different

in more ways than one

You’re the master, I’m the puppet

Now this tale is done.

4. Can cause triggers

Words are like razors,

they cut too deep.

Razors are like knives,

they make you lose sleep.

Sleep is like vampires,

stalking in the night.

Night is like parting,

saying goodbye is too ruff.

Parting is like losing,

they never get enough.

Losing is like dying,

because you can’t remember enough.

Dying is the end,

we always seem to go.

The end is the beginning,

this I’ve come to know.

5.I would like this one to be read at some time as well. If reference to Hell and Heaven is an issue, please let me know so I can try to find something that shares the same message but doesn't say the names. Thank you.

In this place that time forgot,

this is nothing that they thought.

Heaven and Hell weren’t meant to be,

I was meant to be kind to thee

No matter the difference that we thought.

This is the place that time forgot.

Forever and a day,

I’ll always go your way.

For in the place that time forgot,

we are nothing that they thought.

6.

Some stories are legends

some are made of gold

here with my friends

it’s what I uphold.

7. Triggers?

To hear them talk,

to hear them scream,

to hear them whisper,

things not worth doing,

saying,

believing.

To watch them bleed,

to watch them die,

to watch them go,

it is heartbreaking,

it kills you,

it makes you believe that it was your fault.

To save a life,

to watch them smile,

to give them a reason,

it makes you smile,

it makes you believe that you have a reason to be here,

it makes everything alright.

This is a tale,

a tale of someone so true,

a tale unlike you,

a true tale of what I do.

So thank you.

8. The Real Me

This isn’t the end

nor the beginning.

This is a story

told endlessly.

This is a story to help me grow

and in time I will reveal

who I am

and let my true colours show

I’m not Re, I’m El

just so you know.

9.

Memories are golden

and I am true.

I hope forever is me and you.

10.

Lights flicker in the dark

You know the one who holds my heart

And one who knows my soul

And the one who makes me lose self control

You know them only by name

You don't know their lives or their struggles

So stop playing this game

You can fool others but not your heart

And all you're doing is tearing yourself apart

11.

Words come in my sleep

they whisper for me to keep

keep the things that I hold dear

locked with a key

I will not fear

But when I awake the world rips away

takes away the key

and gives me pain

The tears they fall in fat little droplets

and my blood boils over

only when I am alone

does my spirit do wonder

in the forest

or in the woods

my paws echo on the floor

lost forever in myself

I never wonder.

Where wolves never wander

and I never fear

shall Mother Earth calls us near

near the center of her heart

to keep us safe from the dark.

We do things every well

that is why we don’t dwell in Hell.

12. Sometimes

Sometimes you just need to let em go

Sometimes you need to be the devil's advocate

Sometimes the dead feel the most

Sometimes we are just a little gone

Sometimes.. Just sometimes I hate you and everything that you stand for.

Sometimes.. Just sometimes I love you for standing up for what you believe

Sometimes we say goodbye too soon

Sometimes we let go of the rope binding us here

Sometimes... After you're gone.. Sometimes I cry

Sometimes I scream

Sometimes I blame

Sometimes.. Is it really just a word? Sometimes.

13.

The mews of her baby,

The rotting stench of her breath,

(Purrhaps, she needs a mint).

The calm air of the Savannah,

The dust raising up like a swarm.

From the little ones at play.

The sting of dust crashing into the ears;

Creating chaos.

Fur matted every which way,

‘ please stop Momma, I wanna play!’

‘Not now dear, you know that you have to be bathed today’

Oval eyes fixated on one’s flickering tail, not paying attention to anything near.

Their spots echo in the air from the blazing African sun.

I wonder how they see?

Do they see in colour- like you and me with the tans or dark greys?

Or are they only selected to see two colours a day- white and gray?

Are they as soft as the kittens, I have at home?

Well let’s go see…

Oh dear, the Momma cheetah just ate me!

It is my own fault for drawing near,

I should never have thought of photographing here!

[rotationalsymmetry]

And dieting is correlated with higher long term rates of obesity regardless of starting weight. And eating disorders are the most deadly form of mental illness.

And focusing on “obesity” and “personal choices” takes the attention off of societal and economic factors that make health worse: communities you can’t safely walk or bike in, shift work or other highly stressful working conditions, not being able to afford to go to the doctor, etc etc.

Remember: life expectancy is extremely correlated with income and wealth. But we don’t talk about that now do we?

[mercy-burning]

Affection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Y/N decidedly hate each other. But when a near-death experience puts one of them in a coma, their mutual hatred might have to take a backseat— Or will it? Category: Angst / Happy Ending! + Humor and a lil bit of Fluff Content: Strong language, Reader is in a coma, mentions of injury, kissing Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one’s for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) September Writing Challenge, Enemies To Lovers! I have another one coming up as well, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head ever since I watched The Abyss with my dad and I had to get it out 😅 I hope you like it!!

———

I swear to fucking God, if this motherfucker really thinks he—

That was the last thing Y/N thought before she was knocked out cold.

With her line of work, it was natural to assume that she was thinking about the unsub, but unfortunately the criminal she and her team were tracking down was the farthest thing on her mind. Spencer would have chastised her for it— letting something else cloud her thoughts while she was in a dark alley, alone, and with a serial killer on the loose.

"You should be smarter than that!" she could hear him say in that high pitch he always carried when he was upset— especially with her. "If you don't get yourself killed one of these days, then it'll be the rest of us!"

Thinking about it made her blood boil.

"It's your fault," she wanted to tell him. "I had to blow off some steam because you were pissing me off!"

The only thing was... She couldn't tell him.

Well... She could.

He just couldn't hear her, because no one could.

It was like some stupid, cliché movie, where you found yourself standing over your dying body and having to choose whether to live or not. It seemed like the obvious choice, to fucking live, but... Y/N found herself wandering around her hospital room, yelling into the void and attempting to jump back into her own body.

Nothing was working.

And when Spencer showed up, his face red and his hair and clothes all messed up, she wanted to scream at him.

"Hey!"

Nothing. He was practically lifeless as he drifted to the chair next to her bed and sat down. It was nearly impossible to read from his expression and body language how he was feeling, and that alone was enough to make her angry again. (Not that the anger had really gone away since waking up next to her comatose body, of course.)

"Hey! Dumbass!"

Still nothing.

As Spencer just blankly stared down at Y/N's bed, she decided she'd had enough.

"SPENCER FUCKING REID, IF YOU DON'T HELP ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL HAUNT YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF ETERNITY, AND I'M GONNA LAY FAT, STINKIN' GHOST SHITS IN YOUR SHOES, DO YOU HEAR ME? AND—"

"I hate you."

It was a bold enough statement to stop Y/N in her tracks, no matter how quietly he'd mumbled it. She knew for sure that he didn't like her, after years of constant bickering and dirty glares and whatever else, but... The word 'hate' was like a knife that sliced through her joking rage and stopped the whole world around her.

If she wasn't already out of her own body, she just knew she would have felt her soul leave.

Spencer didn't hate anyone. Not that she was aware of, anyway. He found nearly everyone delightful, and vice versa... But for some reason, he hated Y/N.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual, I guess..."

"You're stupid, and reckless, and you don't think. And you're a goddamn nightmare to work with... You know what— You're a stone-cold bitch."

His words made her physically step backwards, and it felt like if she were a cartoon, there might have been steam coming out of her ears.

"Yeah, well jokes on you, you make it easy," she seethed. "Fuck you!"

"How... How dare you..." he continued, anger reddening his face.

Y/N watched as he balled his fists and leaned in a little closer to her body, his voice tight and strained. "How dare you walk into my life and boss me around and make it impossible to breathe... From the moment I met you, you've brought out this... this fire in me that I can't put out no matter how hard I try, and it's insufferable—You're insufferable, and I hate you, how dare—"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a shortness of breath. Spencer breathed in, loud and choked, and the next breath he let out was nothing short of a sob. His eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down them and his hands clutched the bedsheets with a vigor and rage that Y/N had never seen from him, even in all the years she'd spent visibly getting on his last nerves.

"N—No," she choked out, feeling her throat tighten. "Don't... Don't turn into a sappy mess on me now, do you hear me, Reid? You hate me, don't... Don't..."

"I don't hate you," he whispered, wiping his eyes and reaching out to grab her lifeless hand. "I hate that you make me feel this way, but... I could never hate you..."

She wanted nothing more than to be able to squeeze his hand back, to tell him, not even necessarily with words but with a simple gesture, that she was right there and wasn't going to go anywhere.

She just... had to figure out how to make that true.

Still, Spencer kept going, a small laugh bubbling up through tears and phlegm. "But I will hate you if you die, because I just know you're gonna come back and haunt me for eternity... Probably... shit in my shoes or something."

Y/N barked a laugh that was true and pure... Happy, even.

The genius may have acted like he hated her, but it turns out he knew her pretty well, perhaps even fondly in one way or another.

To think— All those years she spent seeing him sneer at her, feeling his glare burn into her soul, the amount of times she caught him making faces or inappropriate gestures behind her back, all of it... And the whole time, he was probably doing it with a little flicker of fondness deep within the confines of his heart, which he swore to fill with nothing but hatred for her.

The thought made the little flicker in her own heart burn brighter.

As she wandered closer to her bed, beside Spencer and in front of her own body, she reached her hand out to see if she could touch his face, to give him something...

Even though she had no luck, something shifted when he spoke.

"Just... Come back to me, please? I know I'm not good at apologizing, but if it means I get you back... I swear that I will make up every horrible thing I've ever done or said to you. Just... Please don't leave me."

He laid his head down in his hands and tried not to cry again, every said horrible thing replaying on a loop in his brain like some kind of taunt. He wished more than anything for a chance to make it up to Y/N, and now he might not ever be able to.

"You think I'd leave this mortal earth without getting the chance to kick your ass?"

Everything was so fuzzy and light and brimming with these high emotions that Y/N almost didn't realize she was saying these words and Spencer was hearing them. She almost didn't feel the warmth of her bloodstream beneath layers of skin, the beat of her heart slowly coming back to life at the sounds and smells of the hospital room.

She almost didn't realize that Spencer was grabbing her now, his warm hands covering her cold ones and bringing them back to life as well.

"Screw you," he breathed with absolutely no malice to be detected in his voice.

They shared a smile so bright, no one would have been able to guess that they never got along.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Not only was she stuck at home doing nothing while on suspension (Yes, it turns out that storming off into an alley and not paying attention while on the job, just because a co-worker pissed you off, can get you suspended by Chief Strauss), but Y/N was also being visited by a daily rotation of her co-workers and friends and family, and her house was nearly covered in flower bouquets and baked goods.

It was a nightmare.

The sentiment was nice, sure, but if she had to move one more vase, she was going to start throwing them.

God, maybe Spencer was right, I am a stone-cold bitch...

Thinking of him also put a little damper on her mood.

He hadn't been to visit her once... And she figured that after their nice little moment at the hospital, he'd at least stop by with flowers or an "I'm glad you're not dead!" call, but there was nothing on his end. Not even a text message or a letter.

But for all she knew, their small moment of kindness could have been a figment of her concussed imagination.

Please, she thought, if I brought it up to him he'd probably just laugh in my face.

Rather than a laugh, Y/N heard the bright sound of her doorbell, which normally would have meant a fun unexpected visit or a date she was getting ready for, but by now it only meant another vase of flowers or a pie from a neighbor she still didn't remember the last name to.

Either way, she answered the door with as polite a smile as she could muster, and instead of finding a vaguely familiar neighbor or acquaintance, she found Spencer.

Though, to be fair, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Well, this is a surprise," Y/N drawled, crossing her arms. "I don't even think you've ever been to my house."

She was surprised to see him nervous around her, rather than irritated. And she would have found it endearing had they not been practically mortal enemies from the moment they met... She was suspicious.

"O—Oh, yeah... I know, I just thought... I wanted to come see how you were doing... These are for you."

He held out the flowers, which were truthfully the pretties set she'd received, and it irked her. Because of course he of all people would be the one to tell which kinds of flowers she'd prefer.

"Thanks," she said, taking them from him and allowing him the space to come inside. "Watch out, it's a maze in here..."

While she looked for somewhere to put the flowers on display, she could feel Spencer looking around her space, probably profiling what he could behind a sea of flowers.

"Hm."

Y/N sighed. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just... I'm surprised this many people actually like you."

Despite the nature of his observation, she found it comforting. That level of playful contempt was what she was used to, and it brought a sparkle to her eye as she turned to face him. "Ha... I'm not a complete bitch, you know."

"Sure."

Between the growing grin on his face and the smirk forming on her own, Spencer and Y/N found themselves falling back into a familiar rhythm. And yet, something about it was still... different.

So much so that Y/N felt honest-to-God butterflies in her stomach when he approached, hands retreating from his pockets and head tilting off to the side. His expression held that look he got when he was trying to figure someone out, usually an unsub. She hated to admit it to herself, but a little part of her always found that side of him extremely attractive.

And now that it was right in front of her?

She didn't know what to make of it.

"What?" she snapped, looking for an excuse to hide any and all attraction she was feeling.

Spencer stepped back a little, breaking away from whatever trance he'd just been in. "God, why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You push away every single show of affection! Any time I'm trying to be nice, you just act like it's some big inconvenience to you!"

Y/N laughed. "Ha! That's what that was? Just now? When you insulted me, and then started stalking towards me with that look you get when you're interrogating an unsub? That's what you call affection?"

"That's not... That's not what that was!"

"Oh really? Then what was it?"

"It was part of the routine! Banter! Y—You know, that's our thing! We insult each other, and we act like we hate each other but we... We don't, really..."

The longer he went on, the faster her heart raced. This was the moment in the movie where he inevitably blurted out that he loved her, and in turn she would either kiss him or slap him, or slap him and then kiss him...

But Y/N was still feeling rather playful despite the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begging for some relief.

"Oh?" she prompted, taking a slow step closer to him. "We don't?"

Spencer seemed to get red immediately, and he avoided her eyes. "U—Uh... Well I... I thought... Maybe I read it all wrong, a—and I'm sorry if I did..."

She'd been getting closer meanwhile, and now they were practically toe-to-toe. He did his best to ignore her, taking a few steps back until she cornered him against the front door. And with the way he wasn't doing anything to get out of his predicament, she took that as his acceptance and took another leap.

"What..." she cooed, crawling her fingers up the front of his chest like a spider. "You like me? Hmm?"

When he finally looked down at her, she allowed herself to smile, albeit slowly and with calculation.

In a flash Spencer went from nervous to fed-up, weight seeming to visibly lift from his chest as he sank against the door. "You're messing with me..."

"It's so fun."

"You know what, screw you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maybe it is. What are you gonna do ab—"

She didn't let him finish.

In an instant, Y/N lunged forward and pulled him down for a kiss.

Even though she thought he might have tried to take control of the situation, he ended up surprising her with a wanton moan as his hands clutched at her sides, holding on for dear life. Their bodies and tongues collided in a mess of years worth of pent-up tension, chaotic and wild and fiercely beautiful in a way that put even the greatest first kisses to shame.

And of course, Spencer had to go and ruin it.

He pushed her away and looked almost panicked. "W—Wait, are you even cleared to do this?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching out for him again. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, you were in the hospital! I thought... I thought you were..."

She appreciated the sentiment, but with her entire body on fire from his touch, she decided she needed more of it. "Yeah, but I'm not... I'm very much alive, and you know what?"

He blinked back at her, watching carefully as she leaned in close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's because of you. You make me feel... more alive than I've ever been."

"And... You're not messing with me this time?"

With a laugh,  Y/N shook her head and leaned up to brush her nose with his. "Nuh-uh... But if you'd like to, I'd love to mess with you in a more fun way. And maybe I'll even let you do it back..."

Spencer hummed, feeling himself gravitate towards her more with every passing second. "Deal."

He barely got the word out all the way before she was dragging him through the maze of flora and contained food and into her bedroom, where piece by piece, their hatred and fondness for one another combined to create the most exquisite of nights.

———

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[galatially]

❝𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝❞

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 x 𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — it’s harder knowing you’re without me in the world than just missing you

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 —2.6K

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — strong language, fluff, angst

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i’ve decided to put up some stories from my old account (@/constellvte if anyone ever came across it lol) because they’re gathering dust and i’m in between ideas right now so, y’know, birds and stones and all that

as always lovely banners and dividers by @firefly-graphics / @maysdigitalarts

There were two things James Buchanan Barnes knew to be true in his life: one, he hated the smell of gunpowder and you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever had the blessing of gazing upon. 

So when he was brought back after being turned to literal dust, you were the first thing on his mind. Not the teary, blubbering Steve Rogers, not the knowledge that his dearest friend, Natasha, was dead. 

He thought of Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N. 

“I think you should wait until I talk to her. Explain what happened,” Sam said. They were in Avengers’ Tower, mugs of coffee in their grips as they sat across from each other in the kitchen. 

“I want to see her, Wilson. I’m owed that much.”

“I’m not sayin’ that you can’t. I’m sayin’ that you should let me talk to her first. She mourned you, James. She deserves a heads up.”

Bucky snorted. He knew that Sam was right, he did. But since his resurrection, everything was heightened for him, more so than usual. If he’d been repentant before The Snap, the aftermath was his own baptism into forgiveness. His brown eyes find Sam’s darker brown ones. “How was she?”

He lifted a shoulder. “It was hard for her at first. Harder for her than it was for Steve being that she was the last one to get to you before…you know.”

Flashes of you holding Bucky as he faded into nothing came to mind. Your eyes were watery and red-rimmed, fat tears falling from them. You cradled him in your arms, swatting your free arm out at the others as they pulled at you. He hated seeing you cry, always did. It twisted his gut to know that someone so kind, so pure, could be reduced to tears. And over someone like him, of all people. 

“She wouldn’t leave your room for weeks, didn’t eat.” Sam shook his head. “She wouldn’t even play her music, never mind listen to it.” Bucky’s throat clenched. “Then, six months after, she left. No note, no phone calls, just gone with the wind.”

Bucky’s grip around the mug tightened. “’S my fault she left.”

“You dying in her arms is what started it, yeah, but that ain’t the only reason she left.” Sam set his mug down and crossed his arms over his chest. “She watched people she loved — her family — die in front of her. Being here with us, helping us find Captain Marvel and setting up patrols, was too much for her, I think. She’d put on a brave face but Nat and Wanda would take turns sleeping with her just to make sure she did.” He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “You sure you want to do this? She could be better than she was when she left.”

“She could be worse,” Bucky reasoned. He carded a hand through his hair. “I don’t care if she wants nothing to do with me, Sam. I — I want to know that she’s okay.” 

Sam pursed his lips, giving the White Wolf a once over. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

A genuine smile cut across Bucky’s face. “More than likely.”

Sam rolled his eyes and knocked back the last of his cold coffee. “We leave in thirty.” 

The hour drive from Manhattan to Brooklyn did nothing to calm Bucky’s nerves. 

If he wasn’t grumbling about Sam’s music selection (“Why are you playing ‘See You Again’?” “Of course I know what that is! That Parker kid and his nerdy little friend play it all the time at the compound. I’m not that out of touch.”), it was his own anxieties getting the better of him. 

Would you look different? He could remember everything about you; the way your brown eyes lit up when he walked into a room. How your curls would frame your face as they came undone from your buns. The way your laugh filled the space of his chest and warmed his heart after a particularly rough day in the field.

But that was five years ago. Five years was a long time for someone to change. 

The car came to a stop and Sam turned to Bucky. “Here we are. Casa de Y/N.”

The front of the your apartment complex looked nice: faded brick and a small garden of sunflowers on its left side. It was calm and quiet, the perfect place for someone to run away to. 

Bucky turned to Sam. “Which one is hers?”

“256B.”

“We goin’ in?”

Sam chuckled and clapped a hand onto his shoulder. “I’m not, but you are.” 

Bucky tensed, his eyes widening. “What?”

“Y/N knows that if she wants to see me, she can. But y’all need to talk. Alone.” He leaned back against his the driver’s seat. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Bucky’s words died on his tongue, stealing another glance at the bricks and mortar in front of them. “What if she doesn’t want to see me? She’s seen the news by now, yeah? She knows that I’m back.” He shook his head. “I can’t do this anymore. Let’s just go back.”

“Bro, you made me get dressed and drive you halfway across town to talk to your girlfriend. You’re takin’ your ass up there and talkin’ to her.” Sam tipped his chin to Bucky. “Go on now. Go get your girl.”

Bucky threw him a dirty glare but opened the passenger door and started towards the building.

Staccato breaths left his mouth as he climbed the stairs. He’d passed by a few tenants — an elderly woman who threw him a polite smile, a mother throwing an apology over her shoulder as she ran after a chubby toddler — and his breathing started to relax. It was when he got to the second floor staircase when someone finally spoke to him. 

“You the Winter Soldier?” The kid was scrawny, black and blond dreads obscuring his eyes. He was sitting on the foot of the staircase and he had his phone in his hand. He shook his hair out of his face, his brown eyes hardened. “Well? You Bucky Barnes or not?”

“Who’s asking?”

The kid held up his hands, a smile on his full lips. “Just askin’, bro. Be cool.” He nodded towards the top of the stairs. “She’s home. Her spare key is under her doormat.”

Bucky arched a brow. “Who are we talking about?”

The kid gave a flat look. “I’m not stupid. You’re here for Y/N, right? Lives in 256B?”

“Who’s she to you?”

“She’s my neighbor. I found a picture of you two when I was helpin’ her move in.” He shrugged. “Figured if she kept pictures, she must still like you.” Bucky bowed his head. “Look, dude, you goin’ to see her or not?”

“I am.” The words came out choked. 

“Well get up there. She got home not too long ago.”

Bucky nodded and started up the stairs. “Hey, kid?”

“Name’s Gerald.”

“Thanks, Gerald,” he said, a smile on his face. Gerald gave a short nod and went back to his phone. Bucky nodded and opened the door that led to your floor. As his eyes scanned door fronts, the numbers getting closer to yours, blood roared in his ears. His footfalls were harder, determined. It took all of him to keep from sprinting down the hall, her name echoing from his mouth. 

256B.

Bucky stopped in front of your door and a thin film of sweat veiled his skin. On impulse, he reached up to tug at a tuft of his hair, remembering he’d shorn his hair months ago. 

You can do this, Barnes. 

He raised a fist and knocked once. No answer. He knocked again, more force behind his fist, and still no answer. He looked to the left of him and threw a glance to the doors behind him before moving your doormat and grabbing the spare key. When Bucky heard the click of the door unlocking, he let out the breath he was holding. He put the front of his boot to the bottom of the door and pushed. The smell of jasmine and cotton made his jaw clench. 

It was your signature fragrance. 

He used to joke that he was going to bottle that scent and keep it for himself when he was away from you for too long. He carefully closed the door behind him and peered into the living room. Your kitchen was small but neat, the way you liked it. The hardwood floors gleamed under the soft sunlight spilling from the drawn curtains on the window. The framed artwork he’d gotten you for your twenty-fourth birthday hung over your TV; you were eyeing it at a local art fair you both had gone to in San Francisco that summer. It was the first trip you had taken as a couple. 

There were hanging ferns and other potted plants around the apartment, so green and vibrant they looked fake. You had tried teaching Bucky to care for plants of his own but after the fifth trip to Home Depot in the span of four and a half weeks, you decided to continue being the green thumb of the duo. 

He crossed the room to where her dining table sat and picked up a baby blue mug. It was the mug he’d made you on your first date. His thumb glided along the imprints of three of his fingertips that had cured because he’d almost dropped the damn thing on his way to the kiln. You teased him all night. 

The familiar click of a gun safety made Bucky tense. “Don’t move.” He heard footfalls to his left. “I’m armed and you’re trespassing.”

Bucky raised his hands and turned to face you. His eyes went to your gun and he smiled. “Good to know that you remembered your training.” 

Your stance wavered. “Buck…?” 

You lowered your gun and reached out to him with one hand. Your fingertips pressed against his chest, so feather light he thought he imagined them. You snatched your hand back and held your gun with both hands again. 

Bucky tensed. “Y/N…”

You held up a finger and put the safety back on the gun. “I was about to drop the gun and hug you but I forgot it was still on.” You set the gun on the table and faced him. You put a hand to his cheek, your thumb running along the curve of his mouth. Tears fell from your eyes and stained your cheeks. 

“It’s good to see you, Bucky Barnes.”

He kissed your palm. “I’ve missed you, too, sugar.” He moved his hands to your waist, a question in his brown eyes. “Can I hug you?”

You nodded and looped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself into him. His arms wrapped around your waist and he wanted to stay entwined with you forever. Silent sobs spilled into his shoulder and one of your hands curved to the back of his neck and held him tighter. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m back,” he cooed. You fisted his jacket collar. “I’m sorry.”

You pulled back and smiled, your hand cupping his stubbled cheek. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for, James.” Bucky pursed his lips. “I’m serious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Why did you leave the Tower?” The words sounded so small and pitiful, like a child asking why his mother had to leave. 

“I had just lost my best friend. Would you have stayed if it were me?” He looked down at your palm. “Exactly. I wasn’t well and staying there wasn’t helping.” You chuckled. “I’m sure I scared the shit out of the others but when I moved here, I wrote to them all and explained. Sam and Wanda come over on Wednesdays to watch The Masked Singer and I visit Peter and May whenever I’m in the neighborhood.” Your eyes went to his shoulder. “I visit Pepper and Morgan whenever they’re in the city.”

“That’s good. You ever visit Steve?”

A half smile. “Yeah, the old geezer tried to come for a visit a couple weeks ago and I about had a heart attack.”

Bucky frowned. “Why?”

“He was trying to climb two flights of stairs, Bucky! What if he fell!”

“Serves him right then.” You swatted at him. “What!”

“He’s one hundred ten that looks like he’s in his late sixties, Bucky,” you deadpanned. “He could’ve hurt himself, healing factor or not.”

“Your building has an elevator, right?”

“If by have you mean that there’s a defective one in the lobby that the super refuses to fix, then, sure.” 

Bucky flexed his bicep. “Want me to go talk him straight?”

You rolled your eyes and snorted. “So you can get me evicted? No, thank you.” You walked out of his arms and pushed him into one of your dining chairs. “You want something to eat? Something to drink?” 

“Not yet.” Bucky took hold of your wrist. “We need to talk.” 

You tensed. “What about?”

He guided you back towards the table, his heart pounding in his chest. “I was gone for five years, Y/N/N.”

“I’m aware.”

“And it’d be selfish of me to assume that we could pick up where we left off.” He ran his thumb up and down the back of your hand. “I mean, I’ve only been back a few months and I still feel the same. But you. You could have moved on with someone or decided that I’m not what you want anymore.” His eyes found yours. “I’m saying that if today is the last day you want to see me, I’m fine with that.”

Silence sat between them before you spoke. “Remember San Francisco?”

He blinked. “Of course.”

“I told you that you were stuck with me that first night in Romania.” His cheeks reddened. “I told you that you were stuck with me when you came off the ice in Wakanda.”

“Y/N…”

You knelt in front of him, your hands closed over his large ones. “I’m not leaving you.” You smiled. “What is it that you and Steve say? ’Til the end of the line?” 

Bucky nodded, tears blooming in the corners of his eyes. 

“That’s how long I’ll be here.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your. The seat under him started to vibrate and he groaned against your mouth. “Hold on.” He reached into his back pocket and fished out his phone. “Wilson.”

“You’ve been in there for thirty minutes. I thought she killed you or something.”

Bucky smirked at you. “She had me at gunpoint.”

“I thought you were an intruder!” 

“Is that Y/N? Hey, Y/N!” Sam said. 

“Wilson says hello.” 

You took his phone from his grip. “Why aren’t you up here, Sam? I’ll go out on a limb and say you told him where to find me.” Pause. “Sure, sure, whatever. So, did you want to come up? We can catch up on The Masked Singer and expose it to Bucky.” Your gaze cut to Bucky. “Yeah, sure. No, no, it’s fine. I have a couple shirts of his that I sleep in so he should be fine.” You snorted. “Don’t be gross. If he needs anything, I’ll call you. Miss you, too. Bye.” 

Bucky raised a brow. “I’m staying the night?”

“Or the next few nights. Sam said he wants you to get out of the Tower more.”

He scoffed. “I get out!”

“Missions don’t count, Barnes,” you deadpanned. The tips of his ears turned red. “If you don’t want to stay, I can drop you off.”

Bucky stood from the chair and crossed the room, pulling you into his arms. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — don’t y’all just love cutesy bucky? i love my brown-eyed, soft baby more than anything else lol

[jackrrabbit]

Bloodlust /// Sanemi x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: A naive demon is waylaid by the Wind Hashira.

A/N: Might fuck around and get back into KNY…Sanemi is one mean bastard, and I’m here for it. Be warned—this is pretty brutal (not by canon standards, but still). ngl I’ve missed writing stuff like this 🥺

Tags/warnings: sadomasochism, noncon, hatefucking!!!! is def the best way to describe what happens in this fic, threats, violence, demon reader & demon things, primal, degradation, outdoor sex, bloodplay & marechi kink stuff, yandere? obsessive fixation ig, some creative liberties have been taken with canon

You’d almost forgotten what it feels like to be weak.

Strength came with the territory when you were turned into a demon, along with the hunger: all-encompassing, oppressive, like you’re starving every second you’re not eating. Apparently you’re better able to control your hunger than other demons, not that you’ve met many—none, actually, other than the one who turned you. He was the one who told you to exercise control, who told you that you’ve done well to stealthily pick off prey that wouldn’t be missed instead of attracting attention. He was the one who told you about demon slayers.

You almost laughed at the idea at the time. A group of humans who tried to resist demons? Tried to kill them? How? Every human you’ve encountered since you were turned—hunters, mostly, men who’d wandered into the woods looking for something to eat—has been pathetically weak against you. Life as a demon is simple. As long as you stay in the shadows and avoid the sun, you have nothing to fear.

Sometimes you daydream about making your way to a village and gorging yourself, but you don’t mind the hunger so much. You can get by on scraps. And besides, the demon who turned you warned you not to go overboard. He said to stay away from the humans’ notice—not that the threat of some human calling themselves a “demon slayer” bothered you. You know how strong you are; you can feel it in your blood, your muscles, your bones. You don’t understand how a flesh-and-blood human could threaten that.

You don’t understand…until you meet him. The Wind Hashira. You should’ve listened to the warnings about demon slayers.

Bitter.

It tastes bitter, and you try to ground yourself on that taste, the sharp, bitter-wet flavor of the grass and dew and earth because the slayer is shoving your face into the dirt and the copper from where you’re biting into your lip and holding back the sound of your voice. Not that he cares, probably. But you don’t think you could take hearing yourself moan for a human while he carves the shape of his cock into your pussy.

How did you…get here? Facedown, barely holding yourself up on your elbows, chest and stomach shoved into the grass with your back arched up and your kimono ridden above your hips… Fuck, you can barely remember the fight, his ability, him wrestling you into the earth and shoving his weight down on you and bringing his blade to his own arm and—

—his blood, so rich and thick and sweet that even recalling the smell of it sends a wave of heat through you and you whine under your breath. The hunger overtakes everything else you’re feeling, but only for a second before with a twitch of his hand the Hashira brings the edge of his sword to the tender skin of your throat. “Ah-ah,” he rasps out a laugh even though his voice is heavy and strained. “What was that? Are you starting to like it?”

“K-Kill you, I’ll—kill you,” you snarl, but you and him both know the threat is empty. You tried. And you failed.

“Fucking demon whore,” he spits, and the blade slips just enough to draw a hair-thin line of red across your neck, earning a yelp from you even though you don’t dare move any more for fear of letting it cut you deeper. When you go still, he grunts and you can hear him shifting position in the grass, angling your hips up so his cock can sink in again. “Asking for it…fuck…”

“I wasn’t—nngh—ah, ahhh, s-stop—you can’t—” Your words are coming out in babbles, barely intelligible but it’s his fault. He’s pushing up at your womb, pulling out in short, quick thrusts and slamming his cock back into your cunt so hard and rough it’s like he’s knocking the breath out of your lungs. It hurts, ithurtsithurtsithurts, an ache deep in your core and accompanied with a heat and tension that you hate even more than you hate the pain, because it means he’s right. You—no, your body, your traitorous pathetic weak body that submitted to his so easily—it’s starting to like this.

“How’s it feel?” He’s mocking you, fisting his fingers in your hair and wrenching your head back so he can look you in the eye. “Does it hurt?…it hurts, right? Good.”

“—i-it doesn’t—“ You don’t even believe it yourself.

“Yes…it does. Guess even a demon bitch like you can’t take me that easily.” Somehow the slayer’s hips keep pumping deeper, pushing his fat cock through your walls and against the entrance to your womb until you’re certain your unnatural healing can’t keep up with the bruising in your cunt. Your fingers are scrabbling in the grass, digging clawed nails into the earth—the little nick on your throat has already knitted itself back up, but the tension in your pussy is a dozen—a hundred—times worse.

“—stop, let me go—“ Debased. Lower than an animal. You’d be begging if you thought he would listen.

“‘Stop’? How are you going to...ungh, make me stop? Want to try to fight me off again?” He pulls out (you hate the way your cunt feels when he does, hot and slick and empty) and his grip on the sword slackens, easing up enough to give you a scanty inch of movement. “Go ahead, give it a try.”

The slayer’s taunting you—just like you taunted him at the start of this, when you first challenged him, when you thought he was a human—and, and somehow he is, still human and yet just as much a monster as you are. More. You’ve been cruel, you’ve done evil things, but you did them to survive. Fuck, you shouldn’t—shouldn’t have taunted him, shouldn’t have boasted, should’ve stayed hidden in the dark. You didn’t know. He wasn’t supposed to be this strong.

Your muscles are shaking from exertion as you brace your hands against the ground, trying to push up against the weight of his body so you can right yourself, but it’s futile. Within a second (less than a second) of your attempt to move, one of his scarred hands slaps over your wrist and crushes it back into the dirt, grip so tight you swear you can almost feel your bones grinding underneath. You snarl, try to twist yourself away from him but the hilt of his sword slams down flat against your other hand so hard you feel a dull pang of surprise that nothing actually breaks.

“So weak…try that again and I’ll use the sharp end.” His chest is moving back on top of yours, and you recognize the silent rhythm of the movement.

He’s laughing at you.

Weak. You know it’s true. You thought you were so strong, but compared to this Hashira you’re nothing. Pure unadulterated defeat is written in every cell of your body, and whatever animal instinct you have left from your human life is telling you to roll over and accept that he’s the predator, and you’re nothing more than prey. But the mockery, the ease with which he holds you down, the goddamn fucking laughter sparks a fresh wave of hatred and you thrash and squirm underneath his body. “You’re dead, you—I’ll kill you, I’ll tear you apart, they’ll be picking bits of you out of this forest for weeks—“

The red haze over your vision is so heavy that you barely notice the blade tilting into position—not over your skin, but against his. You only register what he’s doing when the glint of sunlight on the blade reflects brilliant white, and you catch a scarlet line of blood beading against it. You pull back, eyes going wide, trying not to inhale but your lungs betray you and,

oh ohhh fuck it smells good smells so good you want it you want it so fucking bad you’re going to die if you can’t taste it you need it you need it you NEED IT.

Your muscles go slack. You’re salivating already, dizzy from hunger, so intensely focused on the smell of his blood that you can’t help your compliance as he pulls your hips up into place and slips his cock back into your pussy. Only when it starts to hurt again—a dull soreness now, because he’s slowed his pace to push his thick shaft into you inch by inch—do you feel that same prickle of hatred and disgust, but who cares who cares that you’re getting fucked because the smell of his blood is driving you out of your mind with need.

You no longer have the self-control to hold back your voice, and when the slayer hears the pathetic little mewl dripping out of your mouth from the sensation of him filling you up, he laughs again. But this time you don’t care, you just want him, want his body, his blood. Your jaw snaps open and shut on instinct and you whine, pleading, because you’re past the point of believing that you can beat him.

“You like that? Want to taste?” His voice is softer now, but the vein of mockery still runs clear through every syllable.

Your head jerks up and down desperately and then he draws his hips back and slaps his cock between your aching walls, pushing a huffed “uhhn!” out of your lips—but you don’t pull away. You can tolerate this, if it means getting to taste that blood dripping down his fingers, over the sword grip still held in his palm, just to be wasted on the grass. Out of your reach.

“So docile now…think I could get used to this,” the slayer sighs, adjusting the position of his thighs so he can thrust into you lazily and deeply. “F-Fuck, you’re—tight, you know that? All hot and sticky inside…”

“—let me have it, need it I need it, why—“ Your head is spinning, feels like you’re…what? The intoxication is hitting some note deep in the recesses of your memory, a past life you aren’t supposed to be able to recall. Bitter taste on your tongue, liquid pouring, fuzzy edges bordering your vision. Drunkenness.

“Little demon bitch,” he growls, tapping the blade lightly against your neck when you snap your teeth at him again. “Said you were going to kill me, yeah? But now you’re moaning like a whore…”

You try to muster a denial, but you can’t.

The slayer’s other hand twists underneath the two of you to press up on your lower belly, pushing into the place where his cock is nudging up against your womb. You keen at the pressure, the slow friction against that little patch in your cunt that makes you slicker every time his cockhead passes over it. “Feel how deep I am in your cunt…? I can—feel your pulse on my cock, fuck.”

You can feel it too, your heartbeat echoed in the twitches of your pussy around his skin, quick and fluttering from the drunken stupor his blood has forced you into. Every sense is heightened, and the weight of his hand pushing up on your belly just makes it worse…or better. You’re not sure.

He swallows, and with his body on top of yours you can feel his heavy breathing puffing out over the bared skin of your neck. “Can demons even cum? If you can get wet, then you can cum too, right? I bet I can…bet I can make you cum, you fucking whore. Wouldn’t that be nice…get you creaming on my cock, make you my little fuckpet…”

His hand slips down from your belly to rub roughly at your cunt, pushing into your skin to seek out the little button at the top—and the feeling of his hands on you like this, the sharp jolt of pleasure somehow sends a splinter of clarity through your delirium. “No,” you wail, hearing how wanton you sound and hating it. “I can’t I can’t, please, please don’t make me—“

“Quiet.” His thick forearm wraps around your neck, tightening against your windpipe and cutting off your voice. “Learn your place, demon—the only reason you’re alive is because you’re a nice wet hole for me to use. So when I tell you to cum—“

His pace picks up, hips knocking yours deeper, splitting you apart while he swirls his fingers around that sweet spot—and then the smell of copper gets thicker and he’s pushing his bloody hand against your mouth—

“—you cum.”

You’re not sure whether it’s your cunt or the taste of his blood smearing over your lips that does it, but as soon as he says the word you shatter like glass. The heat is brutal horrible delicious and so overwhelming you’re surprised you’re conscious through it—every hair is standing up on end and your body pulls tight like a bowstring, arching your backside into his hips so you can feel every inch of your cunt sucking around him.

It’s bliss—sickeningly sweet, burning like fire through you—without thinking, you eagerly lick the scarlet liquid off his hand and fuck somehow, somehow, it tastes even better than it smelled—feels like you could live off just the blood in your mouth but you want more, you’d die for it, you’d do anything, and your teeth are bared ready to puncture his skin deeper when—

Cold steel slides up under your jaw, almost nicking one of the veins pumping blood up to your hazy brain. “Keep—ahh, yesss…d-damn it—keep still,” the slayer rasps. “No teeth.”

He’s not finished.

Every muscle in your body aches for you to ignore him, but the knowledge of how easily he could separate your head from your body makes you obey, dragging your tongue over his still-bleeding cut instead of biting down. You can hear the noises of damp skin against skin issuing out from where your bodies meet, but you’re not sure whether it’s from you lapping at his fingers or his cock pressing in and out of your sopping-wet cunt. Probably both. Not that it matters.

The slayer’s head lowers—you know it by the angle of his cock inside your twitching pussy and the faint tickle of his hair brushing against the skin of your neck—and then you feel his teeth sinking into the side of your throat. They’re blunt, of course, as harmless as any human’s, but the primal dominance of the action sends a shudder through you.

“Not bad…looks like demons are good for something after all. I think I might just keep you,” the slayer laughs. His voice is too close—you want to flinch back, spit at him, bite—but you can’t. You’re helpless.

You’re weak.

[darkistmalfoyhead]

You’re My Everything

“Did you see that?”

“What the f-”

“The correct answer is no, no you didn’t. Now walk faster.”

Draco Malfoy grabbed her arm, pulling Hermione into the crowds shuffling the streets of London. There was no time. He didn’t care that muggles could see them and people were staring. If they didn’t go now, she would get hurt.

For shits sake, why of all days did an Auror have to insert their ass into his business. And why, of all people, did it have to be her? Not that he didn’t mind having her around- quite the opposite, really.

More heads were turning. He picked up speed, cursing. It didn’t help that she doubled as a popular figure in the parliament for the Ministry. Or that she was wearing a now-muddy ball gown as they dashed through the sidewalk.

“Draco Malfoy I am going to murder you in five bloody seconds if you don’t tell me what’s going on,”

Her eyes were blazing. A hand shot out, reaching for a seam in her dress. He barely managed to intercept it, lacing her fingers in his.

“If you pull your wand out, in five seconds we’ll both be dead,” he snapped, ignoring the warmth of her skin. Instead, his attention was directed over his shoulder. Ice settled in his stomach as hundreds of leathery, winged creatures exploded into the air behind them.

“Shit,”

“What the hell are those?” she breathed. His hand fumbled for hers and within seconds they were off. Screeching filled the air, unearthly screams following them. This time she ran without complaint.

“They wouldn’t be here if you’d let me finish the damned ritual,” he growled, tugging her into a dank alley. “Thanks to your meddling self, there’s a giant hole between the demonic plane and ours. Climb.”

She stepped up onto the fire escape, quickly scaling the rusted metal.

“I think I ought to ask why you were illegally summoning demons in the first place,”

“And I think you shouldn’t,” he retorted. She smirked, grimly shaking her head.

“Typical you. We go out for drinks on Saturday and once I’m convinced you’re mentally stable, you decide to end the world,”

It was becoming increasingly difficult to not look up her skirts. Apparently Hermione was having similar thoughts because with a loud crack she disappeared, reappearing on the fifth story.

“Put your wand away,” Draco barked, flinching as a deep purple thing swooped over the stairs. He uttered a strangled noise, nearly falling off the fire escape. Hermione amusedly drummed her nails on the brick, waving her wand. With a sudden jerk, he appeared on the roof.

“I just saved your life. If you’re going to take me away from my job of saving those down below, at least try to have some sense in your brain,”

“We’re dead, you idiot,”

She looked at him with confusion.

“Why are we dead? Pray tell me, who do you think is responsible for dragging me onto a roof where demons are trying to claw my face out?”

To make her point, she drily lifted her arm, incinerating a bat-like creature in the swarm above.

He hissed. “Get down. Now.”

“Not this stupid listen-to-my-command-bu-,”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence. Draco tackled her, covering her on the concrete with his body. Hermione flailed and protested beneath him, making him painfully aware of her proximity.

And the screeching began, followed by the whooshing of wings.

“You’d better shut it,” he murmured in her ear. “These things only have one way to stay anchored here. Magic fuels there existence so they need to consume it non-stop. They don’t need your precious muggles. At the moment, the only people who can summon it in the middle of London are us,”

“But I’m a muggleborn,”

Her breath was hot on his cheek. “You just did magic three times, no? The problem with muggleborns is that because they don’t have magic in there blood they instinctively draw in impossible amounts before casting spells. You just let hundreds of fucking demons know that you have what they want.”

She shuddered, her breathing becoming uneven. Her irises dilated with fear. In response, he pressed himself harder against her, covering her face in the crook of his neck.

“You want to stay high,” he continued, his voice becoming hoarse, “Because the wind carries your signature away. If we didn’t keep moving after you apparated, it would have been suicide. And I’m in this ridiculous position because if demons can’t see you, it’s immensely hard for them to find there target,”

He shuddered as the sound of wings thundered closer. She was trembling now, her wand freely rolling away.

“Why do you care?”

He stiffened, fingers digging into the ground.

“I’ve known you for two years and in all that time you hardly ever do anything for anyone. For crying out loud, you missed Pansy’s last birthday to stay at home with your cat,”

His jaw was clenched, firmly tucked over her head as he tried to regain some semblance of control. “Because I don’t have any attachment to anything anymore. So I thought that after I accidentally unleashed hell, I might as well save someone I know,”

He felt her smile into his chest. The sensation caused him to inhale sharply. She did it again.

“At the very least I can say that I’m glad it’s you I’m pressed up against and not the councilman,”

“I’d bash the bloke’s nose in if he went anywhere near you,” he growled.

“Nice to see therapy is helping your violent tendencies,”

Draco smirked, trying to ignore the feeling of claws on his back. Don’t move or they kill you. Don’t speak(he wasn’t doing so well with that one), don’t do magic. He resisted the urge to thank his dead father for his useful advice on killing demon hordes.

“Linda’s great. It’s just the fat bastard isn’t,”

“Mhm,”

Suddenly there was an ear-shattering scream and hundreds upon hundreds of wings flapped around them, the feeling of cold weight on his skin growing worse. He closed his eyes, pressing his nose into her hair.

They were clawing at his body. It was almost like she was too powerful for them to ignore.

“We’re going to die aren’t we?” she whispered, her voice cracking. He squeezed her tighter, covering her eyes so she wouldn’t see his blood. Or the silent screams of pain now etched on his face.

“I suppose I’ll confess my secrets,” Hermione continued, her voice wavering. “I once stuffed Ron’s teddy bear down the toilet because he was being a prat,” This earned her a weak laugh. “And I happen to like you a bit more then I should,”

And in that moment, he froze completely.

“Too much, hm-?”

Draco Malfoy guided her lips against his, ignoring the pain, the noise, the sheer terribleness of the environment around them. He’d wanted her for so, so long that the ache where she was supposed to be had grown into a dull throb. Now it was back but this time it felt like paradise.

She groaned, causing him to growl in response. He pressed himself into her, drinking starlight and parchment.

And then he shielded her between his arms, calmly, sated as the demons ripped away at his clothes, his body. He remained unwavering.

Because it was his fault.

Because she was truly his everything.

Because Hermione Jean Granger was worth more then his life.

He remembered her cries, her pleas for him to wake up. The weight began to leave his body as his blood spread around her, smothering her scent.

All was quiet. Draco Malfoy died smiling with his hair stained crimson.

[sincerelystranger]

not enough 1

Authors Note: A Jiang Fengmian based AU where everyone survives. 

---

The thing is, is that his wife is almost right.

Almost.

Jiang Fengmian did find and bring Wei Wuxian to Yunmeng because of old love.

But it wasn’t Cangse Sanren. He had been in love long before she came down from the mountains.

And Wei Wuxian smiles and laughs and jokes just like his mother but…

But sometimes…

When he’s quiet. When he’s focused. When the light hits his face just so…

Well his wife is almost right.

---

His son is just like his mother, in both looks and personality.

His wife accuses him of being hard on him because of this.

She’s almost right.

But he’s not hard on his son because he’s like his mother. It’s because he’s not enough like his mother.

Jiang Fengmian is hard on Jiang Cheng because his son is just a little too much like him.

Jiang Fengmian had been arrogant once too. He had once believed the words of a man who swore to be by his side forever. He too had once taken that man for granted.

He watches Jiang Cheng angrily shove Wei Wuxian’s arm off his shoulder and walk off in a huff. Wei Wuxian laughs good-naturedly and follows, apologies spilling from his lips like music.

It shouldn’t.

It shouldn’t.

But the scene burns something hot in Jiang Fengmian’s gut. Something like jealousy makes its way up his spine.

He had been like that too, once.

He too had walked off angrily, knowing – trusting – someone to follow.

Jealousy worms its way up his spine but so does worry.

He’s hard on his son, because he loves his son. If he can, he wants to save Jiang Cheng from the heartbreak of walking off and turning around only to find himself alone. He wants to save Jiang Cheng from heartbreak. From regret. From loneliness.

He wants to save…

(himself)

---

Wei Changze was quiet and steady and handsome.

Jiang Fengmian can’t remember when he fell in love with him – even in his earliest memories, he’s already in love with Wei Changze.

Wei Changze had always been endlessly patient with him. Always protecting him and guiding him and forgiving him.

But Jiang Fengmian had been arrogant too once, and love didn’t stop him from taking Wei Changze for granted. And he had been so easy to take for granted.

Wei Changze, constant and never-complaining; Jiang Fengmian just always assumed that he would be there. He thought that they had an understanding.

Wei Changze would serve Jiang Fengmian always, and Jiang Fengmian would love him always.

He thought they had an understanding. It’s embarrassing now to remember how foolish he had been.

---

Jiang Fengmian goes back for his wife, and somehow – somehow – they make it out with their lives.

He wakes up in a small, musty hut, his daughter tending to him.

“Father is awake!” she cries. She tries to help him up with her thin arms.

He looks around the hut. His wife is propped up across from him, staring at him with hooded eyes. His son is tending to her. They are all dirty and bloody and worse for wear, but they’re alive.

He had been sure that he was a dead man. He had been prepared to die in Lotus Pier.

“How…?” he asks, his voice raspy from disuse. Yanli puts a cup near his mouth and he drinks hungrily. The water soothes his throat. “How did we get here?”

“A-Xian,” Yanli says and her voice breaks at the name. Tears stream down her face. “It’s A-Xian, father. He – he did something.”

“A crude body transfer spell,” his wife says suddenly, disdain dripping from her voice. She points at two dark spots on the floor of the hut. “He most likely switched our bodies with two corpses from the looks of it.”

His wife reaches behind her and pulls a talisman to show him. He feels Yanli rip something off his own back as well.

He looks around the hut.

His son. His daughter. His wife.

“Then where is Wei Wuxian?” he asks.

Jiang Cheng’s face crumbles at the question. Fat tears drop from his eyes and his lips tremble. “It’s my fault,” he says, his voice warbling pathetically. “I was so angry – I blamed him! I gave him no choice but to go back.”

Jiang Fengmian doesn’t feel completely in his right mind yet. He’s still reeling from having woken up when he was sure he was a dead man. He doesn’t understand what Jiang Cheng is trying to say. “Be more clear!” he says impatiently, “Where is Wei Wuxian?”

“Where do you think he is?” his wife answers sharply, her mouth lifting in disgust. “Do you think these talismans were placed on us by the Wens? Both you and I were at death’s door. On who’s spiritual energy do you think this body swap happened?”

He hears Yanli’s muffled sobs next to him. Jiang Cheng sobs wretchedly before him.

All he had told the boy was to keep his children safe.

He’s all Jiang Fengmian has left of Wei Changze…

“I must go for him,” he says quietly. He pushes himself to his knees with unsteady hands. He doesn’t even have his sword…

“You will do no such thing,” his wife hisses, sitting forward, her eyes flashing. She looks at Yanli and Jiang Cheng and her upper lip curls in disgust. “What are you two sniveling for? Stop this instant!”

“I will go with you, father,” Jiang Cheng says valiantly, wiping his face with his sleeves.

His wife turns sharply and slaps Jiang Cheng across the face.

“Yu Furan!” Jiang Fengmian admonishes.

She turns her sharp eyes to him. “He is a servant,” she says through gritted teeth, “You will not endanger yourself or my son for a servant.”

“But he saved you, mother,” Jiang Cheng pleads, “He saved all of us.”

“As he should,” his wife says coldly. “Your father took him off the street and treated him well above his station. There are servants who died in Lotus Pier that received a fraction of what that child got from us.”

“He’s not a servant,” Yanli cries, “you know he’s not. He’s no different than a brother to us.”

“I did not birth him,” Yu Furan sneers, “How can he be your brother.”

Jiang Fengmian moves to stand. His wife is free to think whatever she pleases. He never put it on her to love a child he brought back on his own volition. But…

But to leave Wei Wuxian to die in his stead at Lotus Pier feels too much like betraying Wei Changze.

“I want my child to be more than a servant,” Wei Changze had said before he left Lotus Pier, and Jiang Fengmian had thought that he had been honoring that wish all this time.

To hear his wife, speak of Wei Wuxian so lowly… It feels like all of Jiang Fengmian’s efforts were for naught.

“He is more than a servant,” he says, rising to his feet unsteadily. Jiang Cheng rushes up to steady him. “If only to retrieve his body – I must go.”

Yu Furan stands then and rushes to him. She pushes Jiang Cheng aside and pushes Jiang Fengmian back onto the ground.

“Why did you come back to Lotus Pier then?” she shouts, rage contorting her face. “If his survival was so dear to you – for what reason did you return to Lotus Pier!? You should have left me. You should have left me!”

He looks up at her wide eyed. In all their years together, not once has she ever struck him.

“You’re my wife,” he answers staltingly, “I could not leave you.”  

A shocked silence falls upon the hut. No one seems to be breathing.

A second passes, and another, and all of a sudden Yu Furan takes a loud shuddering breath and collapses to her knees in front of Jiang Fengmian.

“I’m your wife,” she says in a desperate, defeated voice, “and I’m asking you to forget that boy. Let it be enough that our family survived.”

Jiang Fengmian suddenly can’t seem to recognize the woman in front of him. Never in his life has he heard his wife sound like this. Never in all their years together has she looked so… weak in front of him.

“I am your wife,” she says again, her voice stronger this time. She raises her head to look at him. “Do you understand how humiliating it is to have to ask you to choose me over that boy? Over the son of past love?” She shakes her head, her lips lifting in a sneer. “I am your wife.” She turns to look at Jiang Cheng. “I am your mother. And you will not leave this hut unless it is over my dead body.”

Yanli sobs desolately beside him.

Jiang Cheng stares at his mother in shock before nodding numbly and sliding down to the floor. He sobs wretchedly into his hands.

Jiang Fengmian looks at the woman in front of him. The mother of his children. The woman he agreed to marry because he foolishly thought it might arise some feeling from Wei Changze.

Maybe, he thinks faintly, he’s destined to take everyone who loves him for granted.

The woman he married out of spite. He never thought she might love him. But…

She prepares medicine for him. Her weapon recognized him. She defended their home, fully prepared to die alone – never imagining that he might come for her.

His wife.

They stay in the hut.