#she's never implied to be weak in any sense of the word

[evilkitten3]

genuinely i think tenten just got extremely unlucky. if she'd fought pretty much anyone not one team murder siblings she probably would've won.

I like the Temari vs. Tenten fight. It might be really short (esp in the manga lol) but I think it's for a good reason! Temaris powerset isn't as involved as most of the others, and it's a character moment showcasing her brutality and skill more then anything else; such a short fight is jarring, and shows that she understands the political Angle of what they're doing better then most other (younger, probably don't remember the war) contestants. And also punctuates her own mercilessness, since between her siblings she's been placed in the 'exasperated/placating big sister' role- she is NOT a better or kinder person then her brothers, just Hella good at reading the room and forged in the fire of 'born during a war and spends her days placating what is both her brother and also The Devil from The Bible'.

It's a strong, punchy character moment for her just as much as kankuro's fight showcases his unexpected (as he's mostly been like. A meathead that bullies children and picks fights he can't win- no shade, temari was a Girl Character in the most Naruto of ways up till now) predictive and strategic thinking, setting him up as quite clever and thorough in his contingencies. Both fights subvert the shallow characters they previously portrayed, making it all the better for the audience when the invasion is revealed, because all three siblings have proved themselves ruthless and powerful, and 2 of the 3 have already deceived the AUDIENCE, so it makes sense they'd be trusted with a mission like this (gaara is a bad liar but he'd have to talk to someone without killing them to ruin anything, and it's more then reasonable to assume that won't happen).

[selfcarecap]

Cat & Dog [L.H.]

✧ Logan Howlett x kitty hybrid!reader

✧ summary: Logan rescues you, a kitty hybrid, on a mission and you become infatuated with him. (that’s all the plot you get, the rest is porn lol <3)

✧ warnings: smut 18+, unequal power dynamics bc Logan saves reader (and she’s a bit naive and inexperienced), kitty hybrid!reader (human with kitty ears, a tail, claws and kind of fangs and she purrs), reader’s first time, unprotected piv, oral sex, Logan teases reader a lot, slight daddy kink (like two mentions – still figuring out whether i like it for Logan), implied age gap, pet names (baby, bub, kid (not during sex), sweetheart, kitty — at first mockingly but then not), reader making biscuits on Logan w/ her claws lol, slight pain kink, Logan teaches reader about consent, uh i ignored that the reader’s probably gone through some trauma lool, Logan is indifferent to reader’s feelings for him at first but it changes, reader wears Logan’s hoodie; alternative summary that i thought was too cringe to use: Logan’s a nasty dog and you’re his pretty kitty. 

✧ word count: 5.2k

Logan Howlett is your saviour — the most handsome hero to ever exist.

He finds you on a mission, abandoned like the runt of the litter. The only reason he knows you’re still alive as he carefully approaches you, curled into a ball, is because his strengthened senses allow him to hear your dull heartbeat, and the matted tail at your lower back bristles when you hear him come closer.

“I’ll get you out of here, kid. You’re safe now,” he says, telling you his name and that he’s part of the X-Men. You turn slightly at the sound of one of his claws unsheathing, and watch him use it to pick the lock of the cage you’re being held in.

He opens the door and takes more steps backwards than necessary, “There you go.” 

You’d be able to dart straight past him and escape. You trust him. He smells different from the men that locked you in here, too. Sure, he smells a bit doggish, or like a wolf maybe, but he’s sweaty from fighting men to get to you so you’re not going to complain.

You slowly crawl through the cage door on all fours, feeling his eyes rake over your body. You don’t know why he’s staring – apart from your tail, and, sure, your ears, you have the body of a human – but you don’t mind it. You immediately feel warm in his presence. Everything is about to get better, all thanks to him.

He carries you in his arms when you’re too weak to even stand and you’ve never felt as peaceful and protected as when he holds you, and you cling to him with all the energy you have left. You can’t help but hiss when he puts you down in the seat next to him instead of in his lap to get you home.

-

It’s now been two weeks since you last saw Logan. He gave you his zip hoodie to keep you warm as soon as you got to the mansion and he didn’t leave your side until you were safely in the infirmary. You wish he never left.

They’re insisting on keeping you in here to heal, ignoring every time you ask for Logan. You feel healthy – they’ve even made your tail all pretty and fluffy again – so you take it upon yourself to find him.

You sneak out of the infirmary late at night, and all you have to do to find Logan is follow your senses.

Once you’ve located his room, you push the door open without any thought. He’s in bed but he’s still awake. The light on his nightstand casts a glow over the room and you smile when you finally see him again.

“What’re you doing here, kid?” he asks, sitting up slightly. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers, and you eye the muscles from his chest down to his abdomen, noticing the delicious layer of hair he has all over.

“Can’t sleep,” you take a step over the threshold, holding onto the door shyly.

Logan smiles, more to himself, “Was wondering when I’d see you again, bub.”

“Was waiting for you to come visit me,” you pout. You jut out your hip to one side, your tail curling upwards and peeking out behind your legs. You’re showing off. Last time he saw your tail, it was all tattered, but now it’s soft and bouncy again. You see Logan looking at it, smiling slightly, but he doesn’t compliment it like you hoped.

“We barely know each other. It’s nothing personal, kid. It was a standard mission. Anyone from our team could have got you first.” It stings that he doesn’t find your bond as special as you do, but you don’t mind if you have to do some convincing. He’s worth it.

“But we do know each other,” you close the door and make your way to his bed, “You saved me. I wouldn’t be alive without you. I just want to show you my appreciation.” You’re at the foot of his bed, crawling onto it on all fours. You’d never normally be this blunt but you can’t help yourself around him. Your need for him has taken over your entire being in the last two weeks. 

You watch him taking you in. Your movements are sensual and sleek – feline. You know he’s never been with someone like you, and you’re happy for him to take his time if he needs it. Perching on his bed, between his spread legs, you slowly unzip the hoodie of his that you’re still wearing.

His eyes follow the languid movement as you drag the zipper down, revealing your simple black top underneath. It clings to your skin in all the right places in the same way that your soft, tight, black shorts do.

“Looks good on you,” he nods towards the hoodie.

“Do you want me to keep it on?” You ask, but he shakes his head, smiling. 

“It’ll look better off.”

You unzip it fully, throwing it to the side of the bed. 

“Can I stay with you?” you lean over him. He’s about to open his mouth, and you have a feeling he’s going to tell you no.

“Please,” you cut him off.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he huffs, moving to give your ears a light scratch, “you can stay for a bit”. He’s intrigued enough to let you stay – you can hear it in his elevated heartbeat – and you don’t mind if curiosity is the only reason he’s keeping you with him for now. 

He paws at your fluffy ears, almost groping you, unsure how to treat you, but you haven’t been touched there in so long that it feels like heaven anyway.

“Who’s a good kitty?” he mocks as he gets the sweet spot behind your ear, but you don’t realise he’s teasing you, pushing your head further against his hand in bliss as you begin to purr. 

Logan isn’t sure how you’re making the noise, but it turns him on. He wants to hear more of it, “Well, don’t you sound pretty?” 

Your purring intensifies. You move down his body and settle over his legs, your head in his lap as his hand stays on your head. It’s then that Logan realises he’s already half-hard. The only reason he let you in was because he’s sexually intrigued by you, your cute demeanour and that fluffy tail somehow doing it for him. But he wasn’t planning on actually doing anything — not until now.

Your face is mere inches from his cock and he’s starting to ache to do something about it, getting harder. You’re still trying to find the most comfortable position as you rub your cheek across his lap like a little cat. You stop when you feel his erection.

“Are you hard?” you ask bluntly, eyes all wide. 

“I am, bub.”

“For me?” you purr quietly.

“All for you.” Logan tips his head to the side, waiting to see your reaction. He can tell that whatever you’re asking him next is taking you a bit more courage. He watches you gnaw on your lip all cutely.

“I’ve never seen a cock before…” you confess, and Logan stifles a laugh.

“Y’wanna?” He surprises himself when he says it. At first, he thought your affection was simply that of the saved towards her saviour, or familial maybe, but he’s not mad at this. 

Logan gets fully hard as you nod at him in such awe, your tail curling around his bare leg, and it’s even softer than it looks.

He pushes his boxers down just enough to pull out his cock, jerking himself off for just a few seconds to get some friction. You’re staring at it as you move your legs back, instinctively arching your back with your ass up. 

Your tail bobs behind you Logan can’t resist giving it a light tug, curling his finger around it. “Mmh,” you huff, pulling your tail away by instinct.

“Sorry, kitty,” he chuckles, “just wanted to feel it.” Your cheeks warm at his confession and you move your tail back in the direction of his hand so he can reach for it when he wants to. Your tail is your pride and you won’t let just anyone touch it – Logan’s the exception. He can gladly dominate you by tugging at your tail all day if he wants. 

He smiles as he touches your tail again, letting it glide through his fist from the bottom to the tip of your fur. “Such a pretty kitty,” he hums as he bites his lip. 

Hearing that he likes it pleases you more than you would’ve thought and you begin to purr again. You’re not exactly sure how to go down on a man, but you let your intuition guide you as you lower your face to press a wet kiss to the tip of Logan’s cock.

Suddenly, he’s pulling you back up by the scruff of your neck.

“Ah-ah. Manners, bub. You gotta ask first, you don’t know that?” Logan scolds.

His expression goes soft as you shake your head all sadly and apologetically, “‘S okay, kitty. I’ll teach you. Say please.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You look at him as you get back up on all fours, leaning close to his face. You want to kiss him so bad but you gather you’re not allowed to do that without asking either. 

“Please can I kiss you, daddy?” you ask.

Logan is surprised, not unpleasantly, at the word, “Where’d you get that from?” 

You shrug, and even that movement is fluid and smooth. “Just wanted to call you that. ‘S that okay?” You slur, head already clouded with pleasure and Logan.

He nods and places his hand back on your neck, pulling you towards him as your face reaches his in a searing kiss. He’s hungry for you, devouring you with his mouth and tongue and teeth immediately. His hand glides down your spine and to the side of your ass, grabbing you there. 

You purr against his lips as his other hand squeezes the flesh at your waist, and the vibration feels so good to him. You lower yourself against him so you’re chest to chest, and your belly rubs against his cock as some of his precum spills between you two, rubbing up against your skin and dripping onto his own abs.

Logan gently pulls you off, “Be a good girl and suck daddy’s dick now, alright?” You nod so adorably it makes his heart clench – you’re so eager to please him, all wide-eyed as you get between his legs, your ass up in the air.

On your way down, you give tiny licks to his skin; your tongue is all over his chest hair and his happy trail. Your tongue glides through his pubic hair, ignoring his throbbing cock, and you make your way to his thighs. He watches you lick through the dark hair there, and he realises what you’re doing. 

You’re acting like a cat, taking care of him. You’re bonding with him, and grooming him. He lets you do it some more, but it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore how hard he is, leaking precum. He slides a hand down to his dick, jerking off right next to your face.

“Mhh,” you pout, pushing his hand away with your head and giving him a cross look.

He smirks, “you gonna start sucking at some point then, baby?” It’s not that he doesn’t like you playing around but he’s getting desperate. He places a hand on your face to make you look at him.

“I don’t know how to.” Your cheeks are hot under his touch. 

Logan smiles, “Start with kisses. Or lick, like you’ve been doing.”

You nod and curl your tail around his knee, your hands to the sides of his hips. You press a wet kiss to the underside of his cock and Logan sighs in pleasure; you immediately want to hear more of it. You press quick kisses all over him, remembering what he said about using your tongue.

You begin to lick all over his dick, his balls too, until you’re drooling over him. But he’s stopped making pretty sounds and you’re not sure what you’re doing wrong. You hear a quiet chuckle from above you.

“Come up here,” Logan says. You sit up and straddle his waist. He takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth.

“Like this,” he tells you, taking one of your fingers between his lips. He wets it with his spit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue moving over your fingertip. You grin – you like the look of it. You like the way his cheeks hollow as he sucks on your finger, wishing your hands were as big as his.

As you move to push another finger past his lips, Logan takes your wrist. “Uh-uh. Your turn, kitty.” 

You pout but then feel his hard cock against your ass, your tail brushing it, and you get excited. 

“And none of those sharp teeth,” Logan tells you as you move down his body again. You bare your smile to him, letting your fangs retract. They’re a special part of you and you’re glad you could finally show them off to someone who deserves to see. Logan awards your little show with a grin. 

“Good girl.” Those words make you put your mouth on him immediately, swallowing him down your throat as deeply as you can. You pull away when you almost gag, heat spreading over your face, but Logan is unbothered.

You settle between his legs as you press a few more open-mouthed kisses to his cock with spit-slicked lips. You take the tip in your mouth, staying for a bit as you suck on it, spit dripping down his length and over your lips.

You start purring when you take him a little deeper, and Logan’s breath catches in his throat when you do, the vibration turning him on even more.

“Keep doing that,” he mumbles absent-mindedly, eyes on you but mind evidently gone. You smile around his cock, moving your mouth up and down as the spit begins to make a crude sound against your lips, but you like it. You’re feeling more and more of an urge to touch yourself between your legs, but you want to make Logan feel good first.

Your purring gets louder as you take him even deeper, and Logan lets out a sharp gasp. You pull your mouth off him, wondering if you’ve hurt him, sliding your tongue over your teeth to make sure the sharp fangs aren’t out.

Following Logan’s eyes, you see what you’ve done. Your claws have come out, and you’ve been scratching his thighs open. You feel tears prick your eyes as you bend down to lick over the wounds apologetically, wondering in awe as they heal up immediately.

“Don’t worry, just surprised me. You won’t hurt me.”

“Sorry, ‘s just how I show that I like you. Don’t wanna let you go”, you hang your head low in shame despite his words.

“It’s okay, kitty,” he lightly scratches at your ear, making you purr and forget all about hurting him, “Do your worst.”

You’re not sure if he’s teasing you. “Know they’re not as big as yours.”

Logan huffs, taking a hand away from you, pressing his elbow into the bed and his claws come shooting out. You only saw one of them briefly, when he saved you. They’re majestic up close and in all their glory, glinting against the low light. 

You reach out, “Pretty.” Logan smiles at your sparkling eyes, but retracts his claws before you can touch them.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

You give him the meanest look you can muster for not letting you touch, sinking your own, much tinier, claws into his abs to hurt him. But Logan lets out a soft moan instead, and you marvel at the pleasure he takes in the pain, forgetting all about why you’re mad at him.

Your eyes light up when you realise he likes you scratching him open. It’s a dream come true – someone who likes the way you show affection. You bite your lip as you scratch over his abs, his hips, and his thighs, watching as the wounds close up just before you draw blood. You hook your tiny claws into the flesh of his thighs as you wrap your lips around his cock again.

Logan lets out a string of moans as you have your claws in him and your mouth on him. You begin to purr, and with the way his cock flexes in your mouth you know he’s close.

“Just a little more for me, can you do that, baby?” he gently nudges your head down some more, and with the praise coming from his lips you can definitely take him – you feel like you could do anything.

“Yeah, just like that.” Logan’s voice gets shaky as you take his cock deeper, spit running down to his balls as you take almost all of him in your warm, wet mouth. 

You swallow everything Logan gives you as he cums in your mouth, shooting strings of his warm load down your throat. You don’t stop until he’s gently pulling you off him, and you look up at him.

“Again,” you plead, eyes wide, taking in how his cock is still hard.

Logan chuckles, “Don’t get used to the idea of that. Most men can’t go more than once.” 

You look at him strangely – what do other men matter to you? Before you can ask, Logan manhandles you into a different position, and you don’t notice until then that you’ve been grinding your clothed pussy against his knee, and you whine at the loss of contact.

You’re on your knees as Logan gets up to fully remove his boxers, and you see the skin at his knee glistening from where you’ve soaked it. The sight makes your cheeks heat up but also makes you press your thighs together.

He’s standing in front of you like a god, and you put a hand on his thigh to suck his cock again. Before your mouth can reach him, he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Your turn now, kitty.”

“Oh,” you say as he lies you on your back.

“Gonna play with you now. Can I take this off?” he’s holding the bottom of your top, and you nod as he pulls it off you. Logan gets on the bed again, taking in the sight of you half-naked. You’ve never felt so good about yourself. He looks as if he’s seen God herself.

“Look at you, kitty, so fucking pretty,” he whispers more to himself, touching and kissing you there as his knees sink into the mattress. You arch your back when he wraps his lips around your nipple, and the action makes your pussy rub up against him. He looks down between your thighs, pushing his mouth there.

You’re not wearing any underwear, so his face against your thin shorts makes you squirm. “Smell so good,” he breathes, rubbing his nose up against your clit. It makes you moan.

He begins to pull down your pants, stopping as they catch on your tail. The nurses cut a hole into the back of the material for it, and your cheeks glow when Logan carefully pulls your sensitive tail out of the way before he slides your shorts all the way down your legs, spreading them to get a look of you afterwards.

“Look at you, kitty. Prettiest kitty I’ve ever seen,” you miss his joke, placing your feet on Logan’s broad shoulders, as he says “Can I?”

You’re appalled that he even has to ask, pushing his head down between your legs. 

He begins to eat you like a man starved, moaning against your skin at the taste of your wet pussy. He doesn’t even tease you, licking through all your wetness, licking over your clit in circles.

Logan pushes two fingers in without any preparation, but you still feel too empty, grinding your hips against him. 

“I got you,” he promises, lapping up all of you, “Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He grabs one of your thighs, holding it so that you don’t squeeze his ears any more. Your knees are still pressing against his temples, but he doesn’t mind them there. He can feel you tremble when he licks and sucks and when he curls his fingers.

Logan has you cumming on his tongue quickly, sucking on your clit until you’re seeing stars, whining for him to stop. He pulls his lips off you, sitting up to push his fingers into your mouth.

“You taste good, huh?” he smirks as you suck your own arousal off him, humming around his fingers in agreement. He slowly fucks his fingers into you again, bringing them up to his own lips. He moves his hand between your legs again, fingers going over the hair above your pussy.

“You’re so soft here, kitty,” he says, leaning down to nuzzle his cheek against your pubic hair, making you giggle.

You’re still wet, and he’s still hard, and you don’t want to be too direct but you want to know when he’s finally going to fuck you. You tell him “I’ve never done this before either,” hoping he’ll catch what you’re getting at.

He places a kiss above your pussy, into the soft hair, smirking up at you and kneeling between your spread thighs, “I know. I’ll go slow.”

“Don’t want you to go slow,” you mumble, watching his eyes darken a bit.

“Don’t say that to me. Y’don’t know what you’re saying.” 

You don’t reply, smiling to yourself. He is big – very big – you remind yourself, but you still want him to be rough with you if that’s what he needs. You want him to use you. But maybe you should wait before you tell him that.

Logan wraps a hand around his cock, fucking his fist for a few moments before he leans down to rub the tip against your clit. You mewl at the sensation, ready for more.

“You sure?” he asks, head already beginning to push in.

“Yeah,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. Logan pushes himself halfway in, both of you moaning with pleasure. The stretch already stings, but you tell him you want more.

“So fucking tight for me, baby,” he grunts as he fucks into you deeper, bottoming out with an almost pathetic groan that makes you smile through the slight pain.

“You’re so big,” you moan, leaning your head back against his pillow.

“I know. Think you can take me?” he kisses up the side of your neck, hand sneaking between your bodies to play with your clit.

“Yes–yeah. I want you.”

“That’s a good kitty,” he whispers from above you, beginning to thrust into you slowly, rocking your whole body with his movement. He feels so big in your pussy, but you like the feeling of being stretched out for him. Even if it hurts, you want him to take what he needs.

It helps when your claws come out, scratching at his back to relieve some of the pain.

“Hurt me, baby. Hurt me as much as you need,” he moans into your ear, fucking into you at a bit of a rougher pace. You sink your claws into him, feeling how you draw tiny drops of blood from his big muscles, dragging your fingertips down his shoulders and over his big arms.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan moans against your mouth, kissing you sloppily, thrusts becoming messy, and you grunt in a mix of pain and pleasure that feels so good. He looks down at you, hips getting slower as he takes your tail in his hand.

“Does your tail hurt like this?” he asks, tugging at it lightly. You’re lying on your tail, technically, but it doesn’t hurt. You shake your head. Still, Logan tips your hips to the side a bit, lifting your thigh to fuck you sideways. But this way you can’t reach his back, and you don’t like not being able to squeeze around him with your thighs.

“Wanna sit on top,” you say, and he pulls away to look at you, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“You can’t take me like that yet, bub. Trust me.”

“M-mh,” you mumble, and with a bite to his lip Logan lifts his hands in defeat, slipping out of you and obeying you. He flips you around so that he’s on his back and you straddle him.

His dick looks bigger when you hold it in your hand, raising yourself to your knees to line him up with your pussy. Logan chuckles and you smile too, but you want to show him that you can take him.

You struggle to even get the angle right because you have to sit up so high, but when you’ve got the tip in your pussy, you just slowly lower yourself, hands leaning on Logan’s chest.

“Go slow, baby,” Logan says, suddenly gentle, seeing the pain on your features as he goes deeper. His fingers draw circles on your hips and on your ass, and he almost cums from the way you moan when he won’t fit in all the way in this position. He reaches out to rub at your fluffy ears, loving the way you lean into his touch, purring again.

“Sounds so pretty when you do that.” He’s less and less sure about the thing he said earlier, telling you not to get used to him, about you fucking other men. He’s not sure it’ll be relevant after all. He’s going to keep you all to himself.

“Hurts so bad,” you moan, pussy straining around him.

“Then stop. Y’don’t have to,” Logan coos, pulling you up by your hips but you take his hands off you.

“Don’t wanna stop. Wanna cum.” You grind your hips against Logan’s, his cock pulsing inside you. It drives him fucking crazy seeing you struggling to take him, fucking yourself stupid in his lap nevertheless.

He rubs his thumb over your clit, in circles to match the movement of your hips on him.

“Lo–Logan,” you moan, hands back on his chest as you start to fuck him again, your claws coming out against his chest to scratch him there, and he revels in it.

“Yeah, that’s it, kitty. Don’t stop,” he keeps playing with your clit, starting to become breathless himself as your pussy squeezes around his cock.

You cum with a whimper so animalistic it sets off his own orgasm, pulsing his cum into your pussy that clenches around him hard. Logan’s hand on your hip helps you grind on him as the pleasure spreads through your body and he’s grabbing at your flesh.

You come down from your highs together, a fucked out smile on your lips as you bend down to kiss Logan. He pulls you off his cock, not wanting you to hurt any more, but from the way you kiss him back lazily, hurt is the last thing you are.

“Did such a good job for me,” Logan tells you, holding onto your face, “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, “Didn’t mind it,” and you kiss him again, liking the way he devours you like a hungry animal every time his lips are on you.

As he’s kissing you fervently, with tongue and spit, you let your fangs come out, nicking his bottom lip carefully. He hisses into your mouth, and you draw two drops of blood – one for each tooth – before the wounds heal shut.

Logan grins, “Feisty kitty,” he squeezes you at the waist, making you giggle.

“See, you like pain and I like it too.”

Logan hums at your words, hand moving up to play with one of your ears. You move to lie down on your side, Logan turning to face you. You watch him.

“Can I stay?” you ask shyly, quietly, and he doesn’t understand the man he was only an hour ago. How could he not want you entirely? He hates that he made you feel unsure for even a second.

“Of course, bub. You’re staying with me from now on.” You purr at his words, cuddling into him. 

He puts his arm around you, holding you close as you begin to lick all over his face. He giggles as you make your way over his beard and his neck too, grooming him like a kitty. Your claws hook into the muscle of his arm and, as much as he enjoyed it during sex, this is definitely something he still has to get used to, gasping at the contact. The way you purr louder makes it more than worth it.

You’re pawing at his hair, smoothing it back into place from where you’ve messed it up. Logan closes his eyes from how good it feels. Suddenly, he hears you giggle.

“Your hair is kind of like kitty ears,” you grin.

He deadpans. “Don’t ever say that again.”

Your fluffy tail bounces up and sways a bit as you giggle mischievously. You pretend to zip your mouth shut but he knows he’s never hearing the end of that. Maybe he doesn’t even mind it coming from you.

“So, did you escape just to come see me or d’you get permission?” He asks, remembering how you’re probably not even supposed to be here. 

You panic for a second, beginning to sit up, but Logan holds you down, “I won’t tell anyone you’re here, kitty. Told you you’re staying with me. Would just be good to know if you’re making me break the rules.”

The way you smile at him sheepishly tells him everything he needs to know. He presses another kiss to your adorable face.

“You coulda told them you’re leaving. I’m sure they’ll be looking for you, bub,” he tells you. You turn around so that you’re spooning, with him at your back and your tail wrapped around his thigh.

“Hmpfh, don’t care,” you begin to purr, closing your eyes, “Just wanna be with my daddy.”

Logan wants the same. 

You don’t stop purring as you drift off to sleep, held safely in Logan’s arms.

-

P.S. Logan thinks that hot readers leave a reblog and a comment and let the writer know what they enjoyed about the fic <333 🫣🤭

[kngrose]

can you pls write more about yandere vi🙏😭 i love your writing

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐃…

WARNINGS: possessive behavior, implied threats, toxicity, forced proximity if you squint. be safe, heed warnings!

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : we’re pushing out this vi content ^^

Her presence felt suffocating tonight. Her scarred knuckles tapped impatiently on the table as her piercing blue eyes drilled into yours, unblinking. You knew what would follow was inevitable, but you’d do the best you could to pacify the beast.

“Who was it this time?” she demanded, her voice low, almost calm—but there was an edge beneath it that set your nerves on fire. “Vi, it wasn’t—” You started softly, but she was having none of it.

“Don’t lie to me.” She stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. Her imposing figure cast a shadow over you. “I saw the way she looked at you. I saw the way you smiled at her.” Her words were sharp, cutting through any protest you might’ve had. You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. The truth wouldn’t satisfy her, and a lie would only fuel her fire.

“She was just being polite,” you murmured, trying to de-escalate the situation. But that was the wrong move. Vi’s jaw clenched, and her fists tightened, the veins in her forearms flexing. “Polite?” she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. “No one looks at you like that out of politeness.”

You flinched as she stepped closer, her movements deliberate and slight erratic. She crouched slightly, bringing her face level with yours. There was an unsettling intensity in her gaze, a mix of love and possessiveness that made it hard to breathe.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” she asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was calm, too calm, and it made your chest tighten. “Do you think I don’t notice the way people look at you? The way they talk to you, like they have a chance?”

It was upsetting. It was like she was never pleased, never satisfied with what you said. “No, Vi, I don’t think that,” you replied quickly, hoping to placate her. “It’s not like that. No one’s trying to—”

“They are, though,” she interrupted, her voice rising. She turned to face you fully, her hand tightening around yours. “They think I’m not paying attention, but I see it. Every glance, every smile, every time someone gets too close to you.” Her lips curled into a bitter smirk. “They must think I’m weak, that I’ll just sit back and let them try to take you from me.”

“I’m here with you, aren’t I—“

“For now,” she muttered, her gaze darkening. “But people like them, they’re never satisfied. They’ll keep pushing, keep testing me, until I—” She stopped herself, exhaling sharply. Her free hand clenched into a fist, and you could almost see the storm raging inside her.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she said the words softly, but it came off condescendingly, and there was nothing tender in her tone. “You’re mine. Mine to protect, mine to love. And anyone who thinks they can take you away from me—” Her hand shot out, gripping your wrist firmly but not enough to hurt. Her touch was paradoxical: both gentle and possessive.

“I would do anything for you, you know that,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper now. “But if someone threatens what we have… if someone so much as touches what’s mine…” Her words trailed off, but the unspoken promise hung in the air like a storm cloud. The look in her eyes was honest and dangerous, you wouldn’t dare to test the theory.

“Vi,” you began, your voice trembling. “You’re scaring me.”

Her expression softened, but only slightly. “Good.” she said, cupping your cheek with a calloused hand. “I love you too much to lose you. You’re the only thing in this world that makes sense to me. Don’t you see? I’d tear this whole city apart if it meant keeping you safe.”

The ferocity in her confession left you speechless. She leaned in, her forehead resting against yours. Her breath was warm against your skin, and for a moment, you almost believed she was calm. But then she whispered, “Tell me you’ll stay. Tell me you won’t ever leave me.”

Her tone wasn’t a request—it was a command cloaked in desperation. Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded, knowing there was no room for argument.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, the words feeling heavier than they should. It made you feel unsettled—like you were signing a contract you weren’t sure of.

“Good,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Because if you did… well, let’s just say no one else could ever love you like I do.” The implication lingered, unspoken but clear. In Vi’s world, her love was both a sanctuary and a cage—and you were the only one who could decide which it would be.

The tension between you and Vi didn’t ease, even as she pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. Her grip on your wrist lingered, and though it wasn’t painful, it was unyielding—a silent reminder of her control over the situation. The air between you felt thick, charged with an intensity that was hard to name but impossible to ignore.

She moved to sit beside you, pulling your hand into hers. Her fingers, rough and scarred from years of fighting, traced lazy circles over your skin. The contrast between her touch and her earlier aggression sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to believe this was her way of calming down, but the gleam in her eyes told a different story.

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[syrma-sensei]

→ Home.

gif credit.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/ben x Wife!reader.

Rating: Fluff, implied Smut.

Warnings: Bens's pov, very soft ben, implied pregnant sex, praising, horny reader, antiquated mentality....

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Ben's discovering new life affairs while expecting his first baby.

tagging: @zepskies

Soldier Boy guzzled down his third raw drink before he decided to call it a day and go home. He took off his supe gear and changed into more casual clothes in the dressing room in his quarters at Vought's tower after he took a quick shower. He shook his head with a sneer when he tugged the shirt above his head, remembering her telling him —bossing him— that he wasn't to come home stinking with blood and cigars and whiskey and Vought. Soldier Boy didn't take shit from anyone, but he found himself helpless against her wishes—orders. He was grinning though, amusedly so. Sometimes he wondered where his obedient and good wife went. He liked that version of her, nonetheless.

Though he liked to think that his baby was igniting her wild spirit, his pretty wife seemed to have gotten quite sensitive to strong scents, and her stomach grew weak ever since he got her pregnant with their first child four months ago. It was chiselled in his mind; the memory of her hoping onto his chest with happy shrieks when he returned from work affirming the news.

He had been sensing the baby's presence for a week thanks to his superhuman senses before that, and he'd told her that night to go check on it with a doctor. They were eagerly trying to have a baby so it was of no surprise, but it still pulled a huge smile on his lips and made pride swell in his chest. He was going to be a father in nine months. The thing he wanted to be the most.

But as it turned out, pregnancy wasn't as magical as his mind fantasised to be. It wasn't all fuzzy and beautiful like he imagined. He cursed the damn commercials for that. Fucking marketing.

The first couple of months were rough. Morning sickness, vomiting, ungodly cravings at ungodly hours, horrendous mood swings, and worst of all; minimum intimacy. She'd become fragile unlike her nature. And she got overly concerned that he might hurt the baby whenever he suggested penetrative sex. Orals were, certainly, out of the equation. It was both frustrating and maddening to say the least. He was a fucking man and had needs. The best he could get was quick and not so enthusiastic handies from time to time when she could provide. Long story short, he was growing blue balls from the ordeal. Fuck, he used to make fun of men who couldn't get laid properly. The irony had such an impact on his ego; his pride of being a fucking man.

It was not easy for someone like him to stay faithful to his partner. He rarely recognised commitment before he met her, and being surrounded by blatant temptations all the time didn't make things any better. He could have anyone at any time, ladies would eagerly kneel and suck him off without a question if he wanted them to. But he'd be damned if he wasn't in charge of his own self. He'd be damned if he dared to break her heart. He'd be damned if he ruined his family, a family he never thought he'd ever have, for such vagaries.

In time, however, pregnancy did prove itself to be the most beautiful of all affairs. Surprisingly so. Whenever he spooned her up hugging her from behind, he found odd tranquillity of hearing hers and the babe's rhythmical heartbeats, or when he caressed her bumping tummy, feeling his child's life forming inside of her body, a creature they both made, lack of sex seemed to be durable and trivial at some point. Something he himself wouldn't believe before. But here he was. His disgust and appal from what pregnancy entailed gradually dissipated and were replaced with zeal and thrill. And most certainly, he enjoyed the changes of her body the most. Ben just loved the way her boobs were swelling up with milk, and the way her stomach was flourishing with his child. Boob massage was something he greatly took pleasure in. Kneading her sore breasts while hearing her moans of relief. He'd come to learn that intimacy could be found in many other things than sex.

Ben noticed he'd come to hating every moment he spent away from them. His temper got much worse, his teammates observed. And he became more aggressive than he already was when fighting crime. The happiest moment of his day was when he dropped the shield and took the helmet off to head home, where his beautiful wife would be eagerly waiting to have dinner with him even though most of the nights he'd come home and find her dozing off on the couch where she'd been waiting for him. He'd carry her to their bedroom and have dinner by himself — he skipped that very often — then slip right behind her on the bed holding her close to his body. The concept of coming back home to someone was so much alluring to him. He felt his life was complete. Real.

Ben arrived at their penthouse, assuming he'd find her soundly sleeping while she stayed awaiting him. He didn't announce his return loudly as he used to do before the pregnancy. He didn't want to wake her up. But much to his surprise — and delight, Ben found the place dimly lit with scented candles, sensuous silence prevailing within the air.

Ben's eyes glimmered, and an instant wolfish grin slipped into his lips when his eyes landed on his wife's figure as she clambered down the stairs. A thin, short gown with a raunchy red colour hugged her frame, its fabric was so thin that he could see her skin glowing through the red. Her breasts were full, putting her cleavage on more display. Whereas the bump of her belly was deliciously visible. Her hair was neatly styled and spruced up and her pretty face was elegantly painted with make-up.

“Welcome home, Ben,” She warbled with a smile, eyes filled with sultry desire as she strolled down to him. He was dazzled by her appearance, he was practically eating her with his eyes. Fuck, pregnancy did make her much prettier. “Hope you didn't have dinner yet 'cause I made you something special tonight.”

Her palm grazed his stubbled cheek. Ben leaned into her touch, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm, a grin gracing his mouth. “'Course I didn't. Why the fuck would I eat outside when I have a capable wife like you at home?”

She giggled gleefully at his statement as he pulled her flush against his body. He eyed her with a hazed gaze. Her mouth was luring him in, deliciously so. He liked that lipstick shade on her lips so much. He couldn't but to give in to the utter temptation. Ben tilted his head down and captured them in a burning kiss. An instant moan escaped her throat as his mouth passionately pressed to hers. Her arms encircled his neck, hands combing through his brown hair. He synced their heads for a better angle, and deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into her warm mouth. His hands brushed her sides then her ass.

He broke the kiss momentarily and she gasped vehemently. He could hear the rapid pace of her heart and the gushing blood through her vein, pooling down in her groin. He crushed her lips again, hands travelling up to remove the dress but she squealed and pulled back.

“Benjamin, dinner's gonna get cold!” She laughed again when he buried his face in her neck, kissing her skin softly.

“Is that really what you're fucking concerned about now?” He grumbles in a teasing tone.

She giggled, “Should I be concerned about something else—woah!” Ben grabbed her hips and lifted her effortlessly, heading to the living room with her pretty legs around his hips. His lips plundering hers again all the way until they reached the couch where he sat with her straddling his lap. The kiss went wild once they settled comfortably on the couch. His big hands stroked her thighs ardently. They trailed up to her ass giving it a firm squeeze and she moaned in his mouth, plucking the rim of her satin panties. He smirked into the kiss, fingers tracing down to her core. His grin widened when he met her bare cunt.

“Oh, baby,” He rasps when she rolls her hips slowly, pressing her cunt on his clothed cock, “Aren't you a pretty fucking tease?” He tugged at the lip of the crotchless panties, a mischievous grin playing on his mouth.

She guffawed with a coquettish tilt of her head, and his cock twitched in an immediate response. However, the innocent look on her face opposed the tortuous pace of her hips. She was fucking tantalising him with those hips. And he fucking liked it despite the screaming urge growing in his chest to flip her over and fuck her raw. Oh, she did like it rough, the little slut. She liked to be beneath him and beg him to go harder and faster, to yank her hair and make her choke on his dick. She loved how he manhandled her with his superhuman strength despite being only a human, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't take great pleasure in it too. Ben's nothing if doesn't live to be in charge. He'd been shocked that a tiny woman like her could handle him as such. But he was quick to remember that she was with his fucking child. He couldn't go rough on her like he used to do even if they both craved it.

She didn't stop her torment as her delicate hands rested on his shoulders for support. He could smell the sweet scent of her arousal soaking his crotch and he growled, “Holy fuck, you gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours, or you planning on making me cream my pants?”

Her lips twisted wickedly, “Depends,”

“On fucking what?” He grunted, brows furrowed, puzzled. He was way too hard and drunk by her scent to clearly think or read between her lines, “Baby, you're fucking killing me here.”

“Aw, am I to seal the greatest era of America's history?” She giggled again, “What an honour.”

Then it clicked. The fucking slut. She was tempting him to ravish her. Maybe he should, but again, he worried about her and the child. Because honestly, he wasn't so sure if he could restrain himself if he unbridled that side of his.

Then his mouth splitted in a huge grin, brushing his cheek to hers to grumble in her ear, “The only honour you're gonna get is milking my cock empty in that slutty pussy of yours.” He chuckled triumphantly when he sensed her shivering in delight. Leaning his head backward, he saw her chewing on her lower lip adorably with a cute pinkish red dusting across her face, whereas her eyes were searing with covetousness. Ben pecked her nose and lifted her up again, gently. She trilled a series of choppy laughters and playfully kicked her legs when he carried her to their bedroom.

Needless to say, she took whatever honour he bestowed upon her like a champ.

He was craving a whiff of a cigar. He used to smoke after a good fuck in bed, she'd even share him a couple of drags sometimes. But since it was off the table — temporarily — he focused on and enjoyed her fingers running on his chest.

Fuck, pregnant sex did feel amazing. He gotta admit. He did hear from here and there that a woman with child, at some point of her pregnancy, would be touched by sudden and high libidinousness. But fuck, didn't that catch him off guard. And fuck, if he didn't enjoy it down to the last minute detail. And dare he say, it was the best sex he ever had. It was perfect; she was perfect.

Never did he think that he'd find home, his real home in a simple elementary school teacher he met on one of his tours throughout the country. A beautiful and smart woman who always kept him on his toes and had him wrapped around her pretty fingers.

Ben smiled and kissed the crown of her head, and slowly, it turned into a trail of kisses down her face. Then he captured her lips, and soon enough, they were engaging in a heated make-out session.

“Ben,” She whispered as she gazed at him, voice a bit hoarse from screaming and crying beneath him for hours.

His hand was rubbing circles on her ass languidly, “What is it, dollface?” He drawls with a thick voice.

“Sorry for not being a good wife for you the last couple of months.” She said meekly, bringing his hands to cradle them in hers, while he just frowned at her words, “They were tough times on me, on us.” She sighed, pressing light kisses on his rough hands, “But everything's gonna be set right again, I promise.”

Ben's frown only got deeper when he noticed the lick of fear and desperation in her eyes and voice. Fuck, she was scared shitless. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His wife was scared if he was screwing around on her because of her lack of attention due to the pregnancy, for she used to shower him with doting and devotion as a good wife did. Fuck, did he, by any mean, do anything wrong to arise such qualms in her? He certainly did not. Then he fucking remembered that nasty reputation of his that proceeded him.

Fuck, gotta reassure her and chill her the fuck down. He can't have her in such a position. He can't have his home in such a precarious, dark place. Not after what the two of them had done to build what they had up. He wouldn't allow it.

“Hey,” He passed rough-padded thumbs under the lines of her eyes, palms caressing her cheeks, “Nothing went fucking wrong to set back right, sweetheart,” Then he gave her belly tender strokes, “You're an amazing wife,”

She was; everyday she woke up, five in the morning, to prepare him a delicious-ass breakfast. She took it upon herself to be his barber and shaved his beard almost everyday and trimmed his hair every now and then. She was patient when he wasn't. She embraced him when he was practically a walking ticking bomb. She patched him up — when needed — at night when he'd return to her roughed up from fighting crimes. She soothed him down when frustrated and angry. She took his bad temper and relieved it thoroughly. She was everything. She was home.

Ben's finger flicked her nose playfully, “As I'm fucking sure yer gonna be an amazing hot momma,”

Ah, here it was, the sheepish smile that reached her eyes. He'd fucking cherish it forever.

He kissed her forehead, “You're perfect; my perfect wife, my perfect home.”

🦅 Soldier Boy Masterlist.

🦅 Main Masterlist.

🦅 AO3.

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 4

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

THIS IS BAD! I have updated the tags on AO3, but I'll add it on here too:

Bashing of like...every IC member? Especially the Archeron Sisters, discussion of chronic pain, discussion of Infertility, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please, take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

Master. Master, you need to wake up! The shadows were the ones that woke him. Azriel blinked open his eyes… and a moment later the thick cloying scent of blood hit him.

It woke him up immediately. He shot upright on the couch, shadows rushing around him. The scent of blood came from Zahra’s room. 

Nobody else was in the cottage. He knew that. The shadows would have alerted him if there was. 

Which meant that…

He was up before he could think twice about it, hurrying to the door of her room, heart beating furiously, already dreading what might have happened. What she might have done to herself.  “Zahra?” Azriel asked loudly. “Zahra, are you alright?”

A choked gasp, a pitiful moan…all he needed to hear. “I am coming in.“ he warned her. Azriel pushed open the door…and he froze at the threshold of the doorway, staring at the sight awaiting him. 

This couldn’t all be her blood. 

Right? 

Zahra lay in the middle of the bed, curled on her side. Her body shook through painful shivers and her skin had already taken on a worrying grey colour, near lifeless. 

And the bed…the sheets…they were a mess of crimson. 

Blood had soaked through the sheets, staining the mattress…It was…it was horrific.

“Go away.” She whispered, her voice weak. “Please.”

Yeah. That was so not happening. 

His heart was pounding, his chest nearly painfully tight as his eyes focused on her. On Zahra’s shaking body, on her pale face. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Azriel said softly, his voice strained. Gods. What had she done to herself?  “Where are you hurt? What did you do?” He demanded, coming closer, reaching out to touch her arms. Her throat and wrists were unblemished, if one ignored the cold sweat…just as she whimpered again, nearly violently flinching, doubling over.

Between one breath and the next…suddenly it snapped.

The golden bond unfurled to the smell of his mate’s blood, to the sound of her pain.

“I…” she tried to speak, but her words became caught in her throat, choked off by another gasp of pain. By the Mother…

Azriel could feel the bond between them. It seemed to hum in his very bones, demanding that he fix this, that he find the cause of her pain and make it stop.

He knelt on the bed, his knees sinking into the pool of blood, hands hovering above her.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked her desperately.

She just whimpered, her whole body shivering. “Can’t you just….leave me alone?” She asked brokenly, her voice cracking. “Please. It’s just…”

Azriel ignored her, carefully shifting her body until she was lying on her back. But in doing so, he accidentally brushed against her stomach, and all he could think was that he had literally never heard a scream so painful.

Her nightgown was drenched with sweat and blood…dark red right by…

„Have you had your cycle yet as a fae?“ Azriel asked sharply. But that shouldn’t…this was too much blood for that…wasn’t it?

Her eyes were scrunched shut, her face a twisted rictus of agony. She shook her head at his question, teeth clenching. “No…” she said through clenched teeth, her voice high with pain. “No, I haven’t gotten one..”

Which made no sense either because she had…because she had been a fae for nearly three years at this point. Zahra should have gone through multiple cycles by now. 

And while fae cycles were vicious, they weren’t…

They didn’t involve this much blood. Usually. 

Another whimper of pain, another tremble of that bond in his chest…and Azriel was done. 

Madja. He needed Madja.

“I’ll get Madja,” he told Zahra tightly, hands gently cupping her face. “I just need to go get her, and then I’ll be right back,” he promised her desperately, just as another choked-off moan came from her. 

The shadows came flowing out of the corners of the room, pressing against Zahra's face. Go, Master! they demanded.

Azriel’s throat closed up. He hated the thought of leaving her, even for a moment. But he gave a sharp, resolute nod. “Okay..okay, I will be right back.”

He gave her one last look, her pale face and dark hair soaked with sweat and blood, and then he was gone. 

“Madja!! Madja!” He bellowed. He wasn’t normally one to be panicked, he was an Illyrian trained from birth to be calm under stress, to keep his head. But this…Gods, this had his heart in his throat and his mind racing.

This was his mate. 

He had waited half a millennia for her and she had been right in front of his nose for three years and he hadn’t fucking seen it. 

If he had seen it earlier, maybe then it would have never gotten this bad, maybe then it wouldn’t have…

He was quite sure that he gave Madja half a heart attack, but quite frankly, Madja was used to worse from him and his family. 

And so, Madja only took one look at his panicked, wild expression and her own went serious. “What happened?” She asked as she rose from her chair.

“It’s Zahra,” Azriel said, his voice thick. He swallowed, trying to get a grip. “She’s…bleeding. So much…blood. It’s everywhere, it’s all over her bed and clothes and…gods, I don’t know what happened, but I need you to come, now.”

Madja’s eyes widened, her hands going to the satchel at the table. “Take me to her.” She said simply, shoving a few jars into her bag. 

Zahra was where he had left her, shadows worriedly swirling around her. And the sigh that greeted them made even Madja’s breath hitch. 

“Zahra, can you hear me?” Madja asked immediately. “I am going to help you, alright?”

Zahra’s eyes flickered but didn’t open. Her breaths were uneven and pained, her face twisted. “Y-yeah…” she panted, voice quavering.

Azriel knelt by the bed, one hand coming down to hers and lacing their fingers together. He could feel the damp and icy cold skin against his…her heartbeat skittering underneath her skin…Azriel was practically shaking himself with how worried he was, his whole body trembling with fear.

“You’re going to be just fine,” he murmured softly. “Madja is here, she will figure out what’s wrong.”

Zahra groaned, her fingers giving a weak twitch in his before gripping onto his hand like a lifeline.

“Hurts..” she whimpered, her voice cracking.

“I know,“ Madja said soothingly. “I’ll need to lift your nightgown, alright? Just to see where we are at.“

Zahra gave a low whine, her eyes scrunching up tighter, but she made no protest or move to stop the healer. Azriel didn’t know if she did that because she trusted Madja or because she was far too far gone to even care. Madja carefully peeled back the blood-soaked fabric, carefully lifting it up over her stomach.

Azriel kept his eyes on Zahra's face, pressing a kiss against the back of her hand.  “Squeeze as tight as you need to,” he told her softly. 

“What if I hurt you?” she forced out, but he just shook his head. 

“You won’t,” Azriel promised her simply. And even if she did…he wouldn’t care. He would have given everything in that moment to make sure that she was comforted even a tiny little bit. 

Her face was drenched in sweat, her body quivering, and she looked far too young, too fragile at that moment. 

He forgot sometimes, how young she really was. Not even a century yet. Not even…

But she still squeezed his hand tighter. Her eyes clenched closed, her breaths laboured and quick. “Hurts…it hurts so badly…” she whimpered brokenly.

Whatever Madja was doing to her…Zahra’s breathing was becoming panicked and even more pained, her whole body shaking. 

Azriel was having to restrain the urge to pull her into his arms, to tug her up against his chest and try to soothe her. To drag her away from Madja, who he knew was only trying to help and instead comfort his mate. 

So instead, he pressed another kiss to her sweat-slick skin even as she cried out sharply. The sound made him flinch. 

“Gods,” Madja cursed sharply and Azriel’s head snapped towards her. She was looking far more upset than Azriel had ever seen her. 

“What is it? “ he asked shakily, Zahra whimpering and he turned back towards her, unable to tear his gaze away from the anguished, pain-filled face of his mate. “What’s happening?

“You should have been brought to me immediately, Zahra” Madja said softly. “I could have lessened the pain, dear.”

Zahra didn’t say a word, biting her lips, her face still pulled up into a pain-filled grimace. 

“How often?” Madja asked, her voice softening.  

Zahra’s breaths were hitching, coming in shallow pants as her trembling increased. She shook her head softly, her words coming out between gasps. “Often,” she’d whimpered.

Zahra gave another moan, and her hand clenched even harder around Azriel’s. Every one of her shudders and flinches was like a knife straight into his heart.

He had no idea what they were talking about, but it couldn’t be good, he knew that much. 

“How old were you the first time?” Madja asked gently.

“15,” Zahra whispered, wetting her lips. Every single word seemed to be forced out of her chest.  “I was 15.“

15…so young. Gods, so damn young.

Madja’s face was grim, “And the last?” The healer questioned.

“It went on for 6 years,” Zahra whispered. “Until 4 years ago.”

Madja nodded tightly. “You were still human,” Madja said softly. “The scarring is…extensive. Humans heal slower don’t they?”

“Yes,” Zahra whispered.

Azriel’s heart was hammering in his chest, his mind racing to try to catch up to the conversation that was happening. He felt so goddamn useless. There was something wrong, so wrong, and he couldn’t do a thing to try and help. The feeling of helplessness was killing him.

And this…this sounded like they were implying something so awful that he daren’t voice it. 

“What’s wrong with her?” He demanded. “What do you mean by scarring?”

Madja’s hands were moving across the skin of Zahra’s abdomen, pressing down gently, something that resulted in Zahra’s whole body flinching “There is extensive scarring in her reproductive system.” The healer told him bluntly. “Like she has been injured for an extended period. Over and Over.”

Zahra let out a shuddering gasp, her head tilting to press into the pillows and away from the healer’s hands.

“Cauldron, sunshine, what happened to you?” Azriel whispered.

He hadn’t actually expected an answer. He got one nonetheless.

“I did what I had to. I always did what I had to,” Zahra whispered, green eyes begging him to understand. “We had no money and Feyre was sick and… Was I supposed to let my little sister die?” Azriel went utterly still at her words

She had…she had done something to her own body to save her sister. Something bad enough to give her scars on her internal organs. What the hell had she ever done to cause this much damage?

“What did you do?” He forced out.

Her breath was shaky. “I gave the only thing that was mine to give up. The only thing that…the only thing that that apothecary would want,” she recounted with a shudder. Azriel’s blood went cold, freezing in his veins.

He didn’t…he couldn’t possibly mean…

“He raped you.” He whispered.

He wished she would disagree…would tell him that that hadn’t happened…but what she did say…it was even worse. 

“I went to him willingly. I let him do this to me. I didn’t fight him,” Zahra corrected him, her voice weak. 

Like that made it any better. Like that…

“You were so young,” he said softly. “Gods…Zahra..” his voice broke, and he couldn’t speak anymore.

He didn’t even have the words…didn’t even have the thoughts…didn’t…

“He hurt you,” he choked out.  It wasn’t a question.

A shuddering breath from her. 

“Yes,” Zahra answered weakly. “It…I did it once for medicine. But after that…I did it for money. I came back and I let him do it to me again. And again. And when he got bored, he thought of something new, something worse and…He did things to me…I didn’t even know you could do that to another person.” 

His entire body was shaking with rage. The shadows wreathing around him darkened almost into black. 

He had never wanted to rip another person into pieces with his bare hands as much as he wanted to right now. 

Madja stilled next to them, her hands still on Zahra’s skin…trying to heal the worst of it, Azriel could feel that. 

The healer’s face was carefully blank, but Azriel had known her long enough to see the subtle signs of anger. Madja had an incredibly good mask, but Azriel was able to read people when they didn’t want to be read.

And…there was another thing…

“Do your sisters know?” he asked weakly. Did they know and still treated Zahra like they did? Ignored her outright at some points and wished she didn’t exist at others? 

The dynamic had been fucked up from the start…the first time they had met Zahra she had been in her maid uniform…clearly treated not as a member of their family but as staff. 

But they had believed…they all had believed that maybe the change from human to fae was good for one thing and that would fall away…that this could heal…that all 4 of them could be sisters, properly, now. Maybe something that went well for once. 

Now Azriel wondered how naive he had been in particular. 

He was a bastard just as she was. Azriel would never be accepted by his half-brothers either. His half-brothers had ruined his hands. And her sisters…

“Nesta…Nesta thinks I had an affair with a married man,” Zahra choked out. “Which I did. Kind of.” 

A horrible, bitter laugh tore itself out of the Azriel’s chest. “An affair…” he repeated, disbelieving. “You didn’t have an affair. You were raped.”

“I let him do it. I did it willingly,” Zahra disagreed, her voice weak. 

She had agreed, because otherwise they would have starved. 

“You were fifteen!” Azriel whispered, anger flaring up with his grief. “You were a child! You were nothing but a goddamn child. And you did what you had to to survive. You sacrificed yourself for your family’s survival!” He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to get a grip on his own emotions.

Madja’s hands were still moving over the skin of her stomach, her face set in a heavy grimace.

Zahra’s eyes were fixed on his face, her breaths still shallow and pained. “I am sorry.”

He couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand her apologies. Not right now. Not for this.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to the back of her hand.

“You were just a child,” Azriel repeated, voice choked. “None of this is your damn fault.” For once… she didn’t protest. 

Zahra just closed her eyes, a few tears trickling out from between her lashes.

Madja’s hands stilled, and then the healer carefully pulled away. She didn’t say anything, and Azriel felt a new fear fill his chest. “What is it?” He asked her. “What’s wrong?”

“The scarring is…extensive,” Madja said carefully. “I am…I am sorry, but I think you may be barren.”

Zahra didn’t even flinch.

“I know,” Zahra answered, her voice flat. “I haven’t bled in years until now.” The words were like someone driving an ice-cold knife between his ribs and into his heart.

He didn’t care that she couldn’t carry his children. He didn’t fucking care. 

He only needed to know that she was safe and healthy…But to know she had been hurting for so many years…to know that she had sacrificed herself for her family…it broke his heart. 

And they didn’t even know that she had done that. 

Madja’s expression darkened further. Perhaps at the thought of what Zahra had been forced to endure, or perhaps because this new information opened up a whole other level of complication.

“That…does explain why the bleeding has been so severe,” the healer said. “Gods, child.”

There was silence in the room, Azriel still gripping Zahra’s hand in his. 

He didn’t care that she couldn’t give him children, not unless she wanted to. But the fact that she would never have a choice in the matter. That she had sacrificed not just her innocence, but the future she could have had, for her family’s sake…

He clenched his jaw so tightly he was surprised it didn’t crack.

Zahra was staring up at the ceiling, her emotions carefully schooled and hidden away. So cold and indifferent…so numb. Numb. 

He could recognise the signs because he often felt like that as well. 

Azriel wanted to hold her. He wanted to pull her up to his chest and into his arms and hide her from the entire world. From all the horrors and nightmares that she had been forced to endure.

Protecting and keeping her and making sure she never hurt again…

“I have some potions for you to take…I’ll ask Violet to make you some specially tailored for you…” Madja said softly. 

Violet was the apothecary they used for most of their potions. And also the one that Zahra did the accounts for. 

Azriel forced himself to nod. Zahra made some vague murmur of understanding, as Madja put said potions on the bedside table. 

Madja turned her gaze to Azriel, dark eyes searching his face. “You should stay with her tonight,” she said quietly. “Make sure the bleeding doesn’t get worse and call me immediately if it does.”

Azriel nodded again. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, not unless Zahra asked him to leave.

The healer rose, giving another glance at the two of them. She made a sound in the back of her throat, as though she wanted to say something, but she just gave a single nod before turning and leaving the room.

And then it was just the two of them in the room. Azriel sat crouched next to her on the bed, his hand still clamped around hers.

He didn’t know what the damn hell he was supposed to say.

“I’m sorry.” And there she was, apologizing yet again for something that wasn’t her fault in the least. 

His eyes widened at her voice, the unexpectedness of it breaking the silence in the room.

“What?” He asked, his voice cracking. “What could you possibly be sorry for?”

She didn’t open her eyes, but he saw her expression flicker slightly. “For…for this.” She said hoarsely. “For making you deal with this.”

His heart felt like it was collapsing in on itself again. “You didn’t make me do anything,” he said quietly. “And you have nothing to apologise for.”

[swanhaze]

ON THE BEACH — conrad fisher x reader

warnings: alcohol, swearing, yn is a mess, miscommunication, angst, slight hurt comfort

she stumbled through the sweaty bodies of people, her mind spiraling, the bottle of alcohol feeling heavy in her hand, this past year has been rough for yn, the love of her life dating her best friend, losing the house that she spent all her summers in, the women who was like her second mother dying.

it was bound to happen but it didn’t hurt any less, just like yn finding a full bottle of alcohol on the table and picking it up was bound to happen, hurt people do that sometimes.

the night air hits her when she walked out party, this was exactly what she needed, the late night breeze to bath her and wash away all her stress and hurt.

she lets out a sigh, closing her eyes feeling at peace for second, but that was interrupted when she opened her eyes to see two fishers and a conklin looking at her with not the best looking facial expressions.

“what happened?” she asks, her words slurring together, a product of the amount of alcohol that she’s had in the past hours.

there’s silence for a couple seconds that felt like hours, the six eyes of the three people looking at her in concern, it was obvious that she wasn’t it the right state of mind to be telling her this, especially when yn loved the beach house so much and losing it has been doing a toll on her.

the conklin girl is the first to speak up, “nothing, yn.” she says softly, trying her best to shake up yn, lately anything she says to yn angered the girl lately, it’s not like belly could blame her though.

yn stumbled down the steps, grabbing onto to jeremiah’s shoulder to stabilize herself, “it doesn’t seem like nothing.” she says, bringing the bottle to her lips.

she feels his eyes on her, the older fisher, but her clouded mind tries to ignore it, she can’t be weak.

“it’s nothing I promise.” belly says inching closer to her best friend hesitantly, are they even best friends anymore?, “hey, maybe you should take a break from the drinks.” she says raising her hand to take the already half way done bottle from yn.

yn brings her hand that holds the bottle away from belly’s reach, scowling at the girl, “why?” she asks, “don’t act like you’re a saint Isabel, that’s never gotten drunk before.” yn says implying to last summer.

the taller girl squeezed her eyes before opening them again, “that’s not what I’m saying.”

“that’s exactly what you’re saying.” yn says moving away from jeremiah’s shoulder, she knew that wasn’t what belly was saying, but her drunken mind wanted to pick a fight, something she couldn’t do all year, because she was pretending to be fine.

“because you’re belly conklin.” yn says tauntingly, “the girl that can’t do no harm, the saint that everyone loves, give it up for belly conklin everybody!” yn yells unexpectedly grabbing some attention of some of the people around them, they get waved off by conrad.

Jeremiah puts his hand on yn’s shoulder but she shrugs him off, “but you know who should be called the saint?” she asks sarcastically walking closer to the other girl, “me.” she points to her own chest. “because I never would’ve did what you did to me belly.” yn says tearfully, the hurt from the past year fills yn’s head as she tilts her head back to keep her tears at bay, “I would’ve never done that to you.”

“yn.” his voice fills her ears, a sense of concern is in his tone, it makes her feel weak, something that she never wants to be, but look at her now, drunk and almost in tears.

“what are you talking about yn?” Jeremiah cuts his brother off, but he knows what she’s talking about, everyone knows, all except conrad.

“nothing.” she says mocking the words that were said to her not to long ago, she then smiles her emotions doing a 360, “who cares, let’s have fun guys!” she exclaims, trying her best to take their minds off of the vulnerability that she just showed. “it’s a party!”

conrad finally inches closer to her, trying his best to take the bottle out of the intoxicated girl’s hands, “yn, belly’s right let’s take a break from the drink.”

she pushes his hand away, “no.” she whines stubbornly, backing away from him.

yn brings the bottle up to the sky and smiles, “let’s make a toast guys.” she says stumbling backwards, Jeremiah’s hand finding it’s way to her back immediately.

“let’s make a toast to…” she trails off looking up in thought, before her smile becomes bigger, “a toast to losing the beach house.” she jeered.

belly and jeremiah’s face fall even more if that’s possible at the girls words, conrad shaking his head disappointedly, disappointed that you would say that and even more disappointed that you let yourself get to this state.

she brings the bottle conrad’s face, only for it to be pushed away and she gives him a fake pout, “no toast?” she asks tauntingly.

“suite yourself.” she says brining to bottle to her lips.

she drunkenly walked away and yells out, “you guys are so boring!”, she takes another sip, “I’m going for a late night swim.”

the three watch her figure disappear into the night, “late night swim?” conrad whispers to himself in confusion.

her throat burns as she stumbles through the sand, heading towards the water that replicates a black hole, ready to suck her in.

she take of last big gulp of the alcohol before letting herself lay in the ocean, letting it take her away, only the sound of the waves filling her ears.

she finally feels at peace, she closes her eyes and lets all the hurt, stress and sorrow release from her, the waves wrapping around her like a cozy blanket, cradling her like how susannah would.

just as yn thought she had some peace, she feels herself being pulling from her blanket that is the waves and into the air, “what the hell yn!”

she’s thrown over the persons shoulder and out the water, she already knows who it is, and it’s makes her angry.

“let go of me!” she screams hitting his back repeatedly as he walks out the water, “you asshole!”

she feels herself being thrown on the sand and looks up at the oldest fisher, “why did you do that?” she demands.

“why did I do that?” he asks in shock, before pointing to the ocean behind him, “yn, you could’ve died! I just saved you.”

“I didn’t ask to be saved.” she said stubbornly as she got off the sand and stood up.

“what’s your problem?” he says, it sounds like he’s completely fed up.

“what do you mean?”

“wha-what do I mean?” he asks walking closer to the shorter girl, “yn you’ve been acting different since last summer, all you’ve done is ignore me and if you’re not ignoring me you’re giving snarky marks, you’ve been a brat all year.” he says pointing at her accusingly.

“I have not been a brat!” she raises her voice defensively.

“yes you have!” he yells back leaning down to her face.

“even if I was being a brat I have every right to be!”

“really yn?” he laughs sarcastically, “really? what’s your right for acting like a fucking brat.”

“-because I’m hurt!” she yells over him, pointing at her self, “I’m hurt that you would date my best friend knowing that I was in love with you!” a nasty sob is finding it’s way up her throat, everything that she’s pushed down from the last year finding it’s way up.

he inches closer to her, he looks at her like she spoke another language , she’s in love with him? “what are you talking about?” his voice is shaking, his hands are shaking.

“don’t make me repeat it.” she whimpers, this is what she was afraid off, she lets something out and she can’t stop.

“you’re in love with me?”

“why are you acting like you don’t know?”

“because I did’n-!”

“you didn’t know?! are you serious conrad?” she yells over his yells, “do you take me for an idiot? everyone knows, steven knew, jer knew, taylor knew, shayla knew, your mom knew, belly and steven’s mom knew, my mom knew!”

yn lets out a shaky breath, “belly knew.” she says letting a small cry out, she still can’t believe that her best friend would do that to her. “everyone knew conrad, you had to know!”

he shakes his head repeatedly, bringing her face closer to his chest, “I didn’t know.” he whimpers and repeats himself about ten times as she sobs into his chest. “do you know how hard it was to watch you two? so shameless, it felt like you didn’t care for my feelings at all.” she cries turning her face away, but he cups her face in his hands and turns her to face him.

“I’m so sorry yn, I didn’t know.” he says letting his thumbs wipe her cheeks, “this changes everything..” he trails off, “if I knew I would’ve…”

“you would’ve what!” she cuts him off, pulling away from his grasp.

“yeah you would’ve what conrad?!”

both conrad and yn snap their heads in the direction of the familiar voice.

belly stands in the sand her orange outfit making her stand out, she doesn’t look at yn, knowing she’ll cry if she looks at her broken best friend, “you would’ve what conrad?”

“belly…” he trails off.

“no,no you would’ve what? you would’ve dated yn?” she asks walking closer to the two.

“don’t do that…”

“no,no, you would’ve what? you would’ve dated her?”

“yes, I would’ve!”

belly and yn flinch at his outburst, he would’ve what? “and you would’ve never forgotten her corsage too right?”

yn shakes her head trying her beast to wrap her head around what just came out, the man that she’s been in love with her whole life’s mouth. “I… I need to go..” she says stumbling away from belly and conrad.

“wait yn!” conrad exclaimed reaching out for her.

“I’m sorry.” she says walking away, “I can’t right now… I’m tired.” she then walks into the night leaving her best friend and the love of her life in the beach.

[seijorhi]

Etched in Red: Vermillion (Part One)

Event Masterlist

Okkotsu Yuuta x female reader

Part Two

w.c 1.4k

tw: yandere themes, kidnapping, implied dub/non-con, non-explicit gore

There’s nothing… wrong with being weak.

It isn’t a moral failing or anything to be ashamed of, it just is. For most people – normal people – that’s okay. They accept it, adjust their lives accordingly and move on. 

The thing is, most people don’t actually need to be strong, not in the physical sense. 

Most people aren’t jujutsu sorcerers.

Yuuta frowns, watching you laugh as Inumaki offers a hand to haul you up to your feet, brushing the dirt and grass of your skirt once you’re upright. Another sparring session that ends the exact same way all of them do; you, flat on your ass, wholly at the mercy of whichever of his friends is standing over you.

Problem is, they’re going easy on you; Maki leaving her left side wide open, Panda practically telegraphing his hits. Lately, he’s noticed it with Yuji and the other second years, too. It’s like an unwritten rule that they never go too hard, never push you too far. Trying to help you without hurting you in the process.

Because the simple, painful truth is, you aren’t strong enough to take it.

And believe it or not, he does get it… sort of. When Gojo dragged him into this he was petrified. Useless. He got thrown in the deep end, first first with Maki and then with Inumaki, and he had to figure it out fast, but… he also had Rika. 

He also had his cursed technique. 

Three years in, with graduation looming, you’re a step above a window. Still a grade four, although unlike with Maki it’s not some political, sexist bullshit keeping you there.

For right now, that’s okay. They’re your friends, none of them think any worse of you for it. They cover you on the missions you’re sent out on, and that’s not gonna change any time soon, but–

“Everything okay, Yuuta?”

He exhales a shuddering breath then straightens and turns your way with a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” he asks, idly toeing at a rock by his feet. Maybe you won’t notice the flush colouring his cheeks. “Looked like you hit the ground pretty hard back there.” 

You laugh, waving it off like it’s no big deal, and to be fair it isn’t – you go through this multiple times a week, but that doesn’t mean it rankles him any less when you say, “Nothing I can’t handle. Toge was taking it easy on me.”

You don’t know the half of it. 

“C’mon,” you tell him. “Panda says you’re up.”

—

Forty minutes later, breathless, aching and bruised all over, Yuuta shuffles with you and the others back to the dormitories to shower before eating when a familiar head of white hair pops into view.

“Yuuu-taa,” Gojo greets in a sing-song voice, altogether too happy for the group of exhausted, hungry students glaring back at him. “A word?”

Not remotely a request, considering he’s got an arm looped over Yuuta’s shoulders, steering him away from the rest of the group before he can get so much as a word out. 

Leading him into an empty classroom well away from the dormitories, Gojo props himself up against one of the desks, leaving Yuuta to stand awkwardly in front of him, trying his best not to feel like a misbehaving child about to be lectured. 

When he speaks, there’s no trace of levity left to soften the blow. “What happened?” 

Gojo isn’t talking about the training session outside.  

Yuuta swallows, stiffening. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You read the report. As long as she’s with me, Rika and I–”

“So you expect the higher ups to send you along on every mission she’s assigned?”

His cheeks flush again, this time with indignation. “They can’t send her alone! She’s not– she… ” Isn’t strong enough.

At his floundering, Gojo lets out a heavy, over-dramatic sigh, as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders alone. “Yuuta, you’re a special grade. Do you really think they’ll let you play babysitter just because you have a crush?”

His heart squeezes, a thick lump lodging itself in his throat. He doesn’t deny it, there’s no point. Blindfolded or not, Gojo sees everything.

Not that his Sensei has room to talk about crushes. 

“I don’t care, I’ll go anyway! I’m not letting her get hurt.”

“Special grade or not, you won’t be able to stop it,” Gojo tells him, a strange sort of smile teasing at his lips. “They’ll smell her coming a mile away, that inexperience, overconfidence. Such a weak, tasty little sorcerer. Easy pickings. She’ll draw them in like flies to honey, one after another, until there’s too many to fight all at once – that’s what happened last time, didn’t it? You lost focus.”

Yuuta stills entirely. 

Gojo tugs at the bandages over his eyes, revealing one brilliant, blue iris. “She dies. That’s the only way this goes. You understand that, don’t you?”

—

It kills Yuuta that Gojo turns out to be right.

The body lying on the cold, metal table can barely be called that. Half a torso and a leg. That’s all he got back after getting rid of the curse. 

“Okkotsu,” Ieiri’s calm voice breaks through his reverie, and he glances up to find her tired eyes boring into him from across the room. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think she looked concerned.

“‘m fine,” he mumbles, letting his head tilt back to fall against the cool tiles. “I’m not the one who died.”

Ieiri opens her mouth, only to close it a moment later. “Of course.”

And so it goes. Inumaki, Panda and Maki hover, quiet and subdued. No one knows what to say, but none of them are surprised, he can tell that much through the thick, strained silence. 

Death is pretty much a constant for them. Jujutsu sorcerers don’t tend to lead long, happy lives, but this isn’t just losing a classmate seven days out from graduation. A pang squeezes at his chest and he doesn’t bother holding back a heavy exhale. 

“I’m tired. I’ll… catch you guys later, I guess.”

Yuuta doesn’t wait for an acknowledgement, turning on his heel and leaving them there outside the gym, staring uselessly after him.

But he doesn’t head back to his room. There’s nothing for him there. 

No, Yuuta walks for a long, long while. Back to civilisation, to the city teeming with people and curses, each step more surefooted, eager than the last.

By the time he reaches the apartment, he’s pounding the pavement, and takes the stairs two at a time. His hand shakes as he slots the key into the first lock and twists, then the second, his heart’s halfway to his throat when he pushes it open, heading straight for the bedroom–

The knot in his chest loosens, a relieved sigh escaping him at the sight of you, spread out in his sheets in nothing but your underwear, fast asleep. Safe, where he left you.

It takes him no time at all to toe out of his sneakers, shed his jacket and climb up onto the bed next to you, mindful not to jostle you too much, not to disturb the thick metal links coiled loosely at the bottom of the mattress. Your eyes are still puffy, cheeks wet with the sheen of tears when his fingertips glide over them, intent on smoothing your hair back from your face. 

Poor thing, you must’ve tired yourself out. 

Yuuta has every intention of letting you sleep for a little while longer yet – he’d meant what he’d said to Maki and the others, there’s a bone tired weariness that’s been clinging to him since he dragged himself back to campus that morning, and it’s only now, here, lying next to you that he feels it start to leach away, like poison syphoned off. 

A small, soft smile tugs at his lips. 

Perfect, beautiful girl. 

Gojo was right. You had to die. There aren’t enough sorcerers to deal with the increased curses plaguing the city. Weak or not, they would’ve kept sending you out, and he wouldn’t always be able to guarantee that he’d be there to protect you.

You had to die so they’d leave you alone. So that he could keep you safe. 

Nestling closer, he thumbs at the curve of your cheekbone again and brushes a kiss against your lips, doing his best to ignore the hot pulse of want that burns through his blood, coiling tightly in his guts. 

There’ll be plenty of time for that later. For now he just wants to lie here with you, safe and tucked away. Together. 

It’s better this way. You’ll see.

[fxtalitygod]

Survival. IX

Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, mentions of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 1-2x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint)

Word Count: 3.4k

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue

You remembered the most content morning you had ever had. It was a relatively beautiful and tranquil day in the garden. The sky was clear, and the sun was beaming brightly, yet the weather was pleasant. It was the most satisfying day you had ever had within the temple.

It was also the day your twins spoke their first word.

You had been spending quality time with your twins, your attendant joining the activities as you both basked in their childish nature. She had grown as close as family and acted like an aunt to your kids, and if you were being honest, she felt like a sister to you in some sense. You truly appreciated her company and assistance throughout the time you had known her— especially when sharing this memorable moment.

It felt like it was out of a dream when the word effortlessly slipped from your daughter’s mouth. Moments ago, she was a child who only knew how to babble, laugh, and cry, but now she was a little girl capable of speaking. And if your daughter hadn’t surprised you enough, your son letting the same word slip next had left you paralyzed with shock.

“Mama.”

Yes, it was a standard word for a child to speak first other than Dada or Papa— a cliché, as most would say, but that was the last thing on your mind. To hear your child acknowledge you for the first time and know they recognize you as their mother was a pleasure that could not compare to the joys of sex, alcohol, or money– it is a pleasantry of its own. You swore you would do anything to hear them call you their "Mama" for as long as possible.

And if anyone took that away from you, they would be damned to hell.

The screams of a woman echoed through the temple. The shrieks were ear-splitting and could cause anybody's ears to bleed upon walking into the hearing radius. You could only listen as the screams continued, the sound muffling out as your ears began to ring again.

Why was she screaming? The woman in question should have been thrilled that your children were deceased– they would have been a threat to her. She was probably trying to win Sukuna's favor in some fucked up way. The bitch had no right to grieve in your presence nor in solitude. You had every want to strangle her soundless; however, something stopped you from that impulse.

Your throat began to burn.

At that moment, you realized the screams of grief and agony were those of your own. Nobody was present in that room, just you and Sukuna, as your cries echoed in the room and nearby halls. You were blinded by your own tears as you stared at the now-blurry image of your twin's hanging corpses, choking on your own sobs as you collapsed to the ground, holding your midriff with the painful thought that the life you had cultivated within you for nine months and raised for six years was now reduced to carcasses hanging from a wall.

Your blessings had been snatched from you, from right under your nose.

You should have known things would have not been so simple. You should have never let your guard down for even a second. This was your punishment for being so blissfully ignorant when you should have analyzed all the possible faults in your plan and anticipated any threats that remained to perform a clean escape.

You stood on weak legs, shuffling to the wall that was covered in blood. In your mind, you always thought that the blankness of those walls would drive you mad– you never anticipated that the splash of color would be the thing that forced you to insanity. The crimson dripping down the wall proved you wrong.

Your hands shook as your fingers hovered over the pins that were holding your children in place, flinching back as you swallowed the bile rising up your throat before reaching for one of the pins again. You made an attempt to hold back your sobs but with little success. Huffs, spittles, and gurgles continued to resonate from you as you held back your cries– you looked pathetic.

Your hands felt weak as you pulled the pin, the audible squelching sound of the flesh rubbing against the item sickening you to the core, yet you persisted. You pulled the lower pins that you could reach from your son and daughter, tears gushing out of your eyes as you did so. No torture was as great as this, especially when you went to reach the higher ones. You stood on your toes, stretching for the pins that were sunk into your twin's hands, but it was futile. Under normal circumstances, you could have reached that high; you would have improvised a way to do it, but your mind was numb, and your body felt weak.

"Help me," you choked as you continued to reach.

The only response you got was silence.

"Please," you weakly whispered, "Please, help me."

Silence lingered again, but before you could plea a second time– your husband spoke.

"Why?"

You paused in your movement, your breath hitching as the simple word echoed in your head.

"Why?" you repeated, bewilderment found in your whisper, "Why?"

Your head slowly turned to look over your shoulder, your eyes gleaming with fury as you looked at Sukuna.

"I'll tell you why," you seethed, "For eight years, I have lived in this temple with you and your sickened whores and bastards– lived in your residence with little to no complaint. I have endured everything bestowed upon me and have managed to keep my spine straight with my head held high– and when in your presence, I have given you nothing but the lowest bows of respect despite the falsities of that action; I sacrificed my pride!" you paused to breathe before continuing, "I bore you children and dealt the blunt trauma of my impossible pregnancy and labor without complaint or ask of favor because you and I both know I would have gladly died in the process. In my life here, I have asked you for ONE SINGULAR FAVOR that would benefit both of us!"

Another pause as you caught your breath.

"The very least you could do," your voice shook with exasperation, "is grant me this one selfish wish."

"Do you understand the line you are crossing, Little Flower," Sukuna threatened as he took a few steps forward.

"Well aware," you answered without hesitation, "but at least if you killed me now, I would reunite with my children and be rid of you," you grinned mockingly at your partner.

You watched as the menacing man raised a hand, keeping eye contact with you as he did so. Normally you would have feared that this was the end of the line, but that was before your worst nightmare had already came true. Some part of you wished that he would hit you, hoping that once he did, he would snap you out of what you hoped what was an illusion of some sort, a night terror, a cursed technique, possibly a hallucination— all three were very much possibilities, but deep down you knew you were in denial, however, you did not want to accept it.

The slap never came.

Instead, your companion reached his arm above you, removing the pins that held your twins hostage against the wall. Sukuna took his time, clearly in no rush, leaving you antsy as you began to wriggle in impatience. You just wanted to hold them and look upon their innocent face. Maybe they were not dead, maybe there was still a breath of life in them, and you could somehow convince your husband to use his curse reversal technique on them due to the terms of your contract.

Maybe, just maybe…

Once the last pins restraining your children were removed, you were quick to cradle your twins, holding them close to your chest as more sobs escaped from your quivering lips. Your fingers lightly touched their skin as you caressed their faces with motherly gentleness. After moments, your cries subsided into a quiet lament as you continued to hold your little boy and girl.

You would have done anything to prevent this fate.

"Mama..." a voice spoke, but excessively strained and quiet.

You jumped up to see your little boy's eyes open no more than a slit. Without hesitation, you rushed to grab his face, babbling words of encouragement for him to stay awake. You were eager as you prepared to attempt to perform reverse cursed technique, but before you could, another strained voice sounded.

"Ma-Mama."

You panicked once more, moving to face your daughter as her condition was nearly the same. You were torn on what to do and had almost turned to Sukuna for his assistance, but it was useless. As quickly as those words were spoken were as fast as they faded back into eternal sleep.

What was this? You had to ask again, but what had you done to deserve this? To be worthy of this torture? Was there not a more deserving candidate for this cruelty you were enduring? Had you just been born to be cursed like this?

Questions raveled your mind, and thoughts ate at you alive– you were beginning to spiral. Your voice, along with many of the other voices from your past, flooded your head, screaming at you all at once as the memories began to invade your consciousness. Your head was starting to hurt from lingering in your mind, far away from reality. If anyone were to look upon your form, you would seem like the hollow husk of a woman based on how you sat there unmoving and totally silent as you stared blankly at the bloody wall– it seemed like you were looking through it like a piece of glass, that is how lost you were, until...

Everything went silent.

The voices in your head had settled, and all you could hear was Sukuna's breathing and your own echoing throughout the room. It was eerily quiet as the two of you remained.

"Their first words were their last."

You spoke without thought; the words had just slipped as you turned back to the father of your children, being met with his expressionless stare. You did not expect a response, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was no happier about this situation than you were; however, Sukuna was not grieving like you were. Your reasons for your dour moods were different, but that did not matter– you both were upset about what occurred.

As you held your husband's stare, it was almost as if you had some sort of understanding with one another, communicating without speaking before turning your attention back to your twins. With caution, you gently lifted your children into your arms, slowly standing as you managed to balance their limp bodies in your hold as you walked toward the door.

Your feet moved without command as you walked through the corridor, Sukuna walking at your side as you ventured in silence. The experience was almost that of your arrival at the temple– all eyes were on you; however, there were no whispers of gossip or vial comments and disgusting displays of arousal as you departed. The tension radiating from your aura was too great for such ill manners to be publicly displayed.

You had no clue where you were going and were hardly thinking about it. Your mind was void of consciousness as you reached the grand doors of the temple, stepping out into the cool night air. A part of you wishes you could have enjoyed it, to relish your first time outside the temple walls since your marriage, but the feeling was bitter and dull, especially as you looked upon the lights illuminating from your village.

Trekking through the terrain, you watched the lights grow brighter and more prominent, similar to the unknown feeling festering in your chest. You could hear their voices, their chanting of uprising as you approached the crowd, stopping just at the border of your village. One of the village elders was the first to notice you and Sukuna's approaching figures before ceasing the noise, focusing on your arrival.

"Y/n L/n, you have finally come home. Your family will be happy to know that you have finally returned," pausing to look at Sukuna before bringing his attention back to you, "It was wise of this monster to return you as requested. Come now child, we shall reunite you with your family."

You could hear him speak and understand his meaning and indirect stab at Sukuna's pride, but the words flowed from one ear to the other as your body remained rooted at the barrier.

"Come now, child, you are free!" the elder insisted as he motioned to you, confused and seemingly irritated at your lack of response.

"No."

The word slipped out seamlessly as you blankly stared at the man, watching his expression turn into shock.

"What do you mean, 'No'?"

"It means what I said," you simply responded before continuing, "Why would I come back to a home that sent me away like a lamb to the slaughter. You presented me like a slab of meat to the man you call a monster as if he were some valued patron, but suddenly, I have become worthy of retrieval after how many years? Why is that?"

"You ungrateful woman! We have pursued you for some time due to your parents' request. They paid handsomely to bring you back home, paid enough to fund our cause."

"And what cause was that?!" you retaliated.

"To kill that vile creature who stole you from us, my dear daughter!"

"...Mother," you whispered to yourself as your mom came into view, your father following her as they made their presence known.

"But it seems his influence has already tainted your mind," your mother spoke with a solemn look in her eyes, "But we can fix that if you just come home." the woman persisted as she held her arms out for a welcoming embrace.

Her comfort was tempting, but there was a lingering feeling of hesitance the longer you looked at the picture. This was something you wished for a long time, to be welcomed home with open arms, but the dream seemed stale as you stood there unmoving.

"Then why were harmless children slaughtered in his place?" you questioned.

"Harmless?" your parents uttered, baffled by your statement, "Those children were born to become monsters along with their father! They were far from harmless! That is why we had to cut them out of the picture!" your father yelled.

"...You did it?" you softly asked.

You could see your father's mouth open before closing, moving his gaze from your eyes to the motionless bodies in your arms. The disgusted faces your parents held were replaced with one of bewilderment and fear. They could finally understand your reluctance.

"Y/n..."

"They were harmless..." you started in a mutter, "They were not monsters! They were innocent! And you accused them of crimes they have never committed!"

"With their upbringing, it would have been inevitable! They were their father's children, after all!" the village elder interrupted, disdain laced in his voice.

"They were not guilty of Sukuna's crimes! They were innocent children!" you voiced, outraged with the small-minded thinking.

You looked to your parents for support but were only met by them avoiding your stare. They believed their actions were reasonable and considered them valid. You were not the one who was influenced... they were.

"Damn you all," you muttered, turning your back to the villagers.

"We did this for you to survive, Y/n! And here you are, well and alive. You kept your promise, so please come home!"

"Survived...survived..." Your chest heaved as you began to laugh hysterically. You placed your children down before rising, "Is this what survival is, just staying alive? Well, if that is the case, then yes, I have survived just like I promised, but with the cost of my life! I may have survived, but I will never live...not without them."

"There will be other opportunities to have children, my dear, with a far better suitor," your mother attempted to persuade, her arms still held open.

"Excuse me?"

That had done it.

"The man you practically sold me to was far from my first choice of significant other, but at least he managed to give my life some meaning, something to live for...and you took it from me, the last crowd of people I thought would do such a thing...how naive of me."

"Y/n, if we-"

"If you what?! Tell me, if you had known those children were mine, would you have spared them, given them mercy?"

No response.

"That's what I thought. You know I had hoped to come home with open arms, and shown by tonight, my wish came true; however, that was before I had the twins– the dream expanded to have all three of us welcomed with warmth...how pitifully optimistic of me."

"Y/n, I cannot tell you those events you hoped for would have come to fruition, but I can tell you this: you can start over, have a family you have always dreamed of... pure children."

Silence.

"They. Were. PURE!"

And just like that, the extent of that unusual feeling lingering in your chest had unleashed. The full extent of your furry had combusted in the form of your cursed energy and technique. Within the blink of an eye, what was once a bustling village full of chatter and laughter was now a blazing inferno filled with screams and cries.

You could see the fire, smell the blood, and hear their screams as they begged for mercy. They cried out for their children and loved ones whose bodies were now burning in the roaring flames, reduced to cinders and ashes. Those who threatened to charge were killed before they could make contact, their bodies contorting in ways the human form was incapable of, causing cries of pure agony as they were left to bleed out in their mangled state– they were retired to suffer in their pain as the life slowly drained out of them. If a suffering soul was fortunate, the fire would catch them aflame and kill them faster, or debris would land in a fatal spot or crush them whole to end their misery.

Viewing the demolished structures and flaming bodies, both dead and alive, was a petrifying view– yet you felt nothing. Your breath was methodical, your expression blank, your body unmoving. Pity and remorse were thrown out the window– fear and anguish had long vanished; however, anger and resentment lingered like a tiny flickering flame that continued to grow with each crumble and cry that could be heard.

Although your exterior appearance seemed calm and collected, your heartbeat said otherwise as it accelerated, pounding against your chest so hard you could eventually drown out the hollers of distress with its rapid thumping.

They were now suffering the pain and torture you had suffered for years to its full extent...

Unlike you, it was the kind of punishment they deserved.

You allowed yourself to view the sight for a few seconds longer before picking up your son and daughter, balancing them in your embrace again, and turning your back towards the village. You began to walk toward the temple, knowing better than to run off, but it was not like you had a reason to go anywhere else. There was no life for you. You were to remain by Sukuna's side until you died, and you were content with that.

"Y/n."

With all the heightened emotions and events that occurred only moments ago, you had forgotten Sukuna was there. The curse user had not muttered a word nor made a movement. He idly watched your wrath unfold, watched as you burnt your home to the ground.

You paused for a minute, looking blankly ahead as you thought of the past and reflected on your choices. Out of every action you committed, there was one you regretted most.

"I should have killed myself that morning, the morning after the ceremony. It would have saved me a lot of trouble and heartache."

With that, you walked off into the night, letting that thought of regret linger in your mind.

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya@pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one@rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade

[2018-01-20]

if you still have your 1k words of kissing satoru pls bestow it to me 🧎🏽‍♀️i’m grabbing him by the back of his blindfold and making out with him fr

pairing. high schooler!gojo satoru × gn!reader

content. fluff + one kiss, implied that reader is shorter than gojo, somewhat proofread (i hate everything) read slowly!!

sticky-note. IM CRYING the way u worded this ask made me want to write an entirely new thing of making out w gojo 😭 ty for sending this in leeee 🫶

it is no secret that gojo satoru looks like a good kisser.

he’s attentive; one large hand on the small of your back to hold you steady while the other rests on your hip, eyes on you to see if you’ll make the first move. to both his and your dismay, you don’t move a single inch.

“i can’t do it,” you finally say, exasperated, pulling away to quickly hide your face in your hands. you awkwardly twist away from his figure, unable to stand the way that you’re able to see his stupidly pretty eyes through his sunglasses. it infuriates you to no end. “i give up. this is too embarrassing.”

“that’s so mean of you to say,” gojo whines not unsimilar to a toddler, but there is only amusement in his tone as he lightly tugs on the waistband of your pants, trying to get you to turn back around. “shouldn’t you be honored to kiss the one and only gojo satoru?”

“shutupshutupshutup,” you chant, mostly to yourself than to the obnoxious boy behind you. you swat weakly at his hand while trying to ignore the demonic voices in your head.

it is no secret that you’ve liked your classmate for a long while now. as cute and funny (and hot) as gojo is, he is twice as annoying and unpleasant. you swear he makes it his daily goal to get your blood boiling every chance he gets. that is the sole reason why you don’t plan on professing your love anytime soon: due to the fact that shoko will forever be disappointed in you and will never let you live it down if she knew. you don’t even want to think about what utahime would ultimately think of you.

he continues to bug you, “c’mo-on...” you can practically hear him sporting his signature smug grin. “do you really wanna go back to jujutsu high like that and kiss suguru instead?”

at that, you spin around in an instant—a mortified look on your face that further urges you to stab an accusatory finger at his chest. “y-you’re a damn liar! there is no way that there is an actual curse who’s goddamn antidote requires you to kiss someone when you get hit.”

sneakily, he wraps a palm around your wrist but makes no move to push your hand away. “but you just got touched by that cursed spirit, right? doesn’t your skin feel all sticky and itchy, like i mentioned?”

as much as you hate to admit it, you know that he’s right. before the two of you had gotten into the fight in the first place, he warned you not to get hit and the symptoms you would have to face if you did. your skin does feel like you just took a swim in poison ivy, and your head feels dizzy with a sudden migraine that should not be there, since gojo had instantly caught you the moment you faced a hit from the cursed spirit.

“b-but it doesn’t make any sense,” you sputter out, a weak last-minute resort. you really do not want to kiss gojo satoru—at least, not because of a measly curse—and have to hear him blab about it later on to your friends. you rant on, “if such a technique exists, then why didn’t you just kill the thing right away? aren’t you the strongest? why am i even on this mission with you?”

“hey!” he feigns an offended gasp, “are you saying that you don’t like hanging out with me?” he groans and dramatically lays an arm on his forehead, reminding you of a mistress in distress. you stare blankly. “how cruel of you. and besides, just because i’m the strongest doesn’t mean i can kill a first-grade so quickly.”

you keep staring at him with a disapproving look, but he only looks back at you with a joyous glint in his eyes. “...you’re insufferable,” you finally huff out, your hand still in his. but the both of you can hear the undertone of surrounder in your voice.

you stand awkwardly still in front of him for a few solid seconds, narrowing your eyes as he returns your defeated glare with a sheepish smile. you can’t help but sigh to yourself—you’re going to have to prepare yourself for a mouthful from shoko when you both head back.

you let him pull you closer when he tugs at your hand, your other palm moving to rest on his chest to steady yourself. but even then, you don’t get to kiss him until he leans down from that freakishly tall height of his— gently meeting his lips with yours.

it isn’t a quick peck. in fact, it’s a sweet and slow kind of kiss that makes your heart skip a concerningly amount of beats. a free hand of satoru’s moves up to softly cup the back of your head to deepen the kiss. nothing about his movements show that he’s in a rush to get the whole ordeal over with—and as much as you would like to lie and say that you hate it, you can’t help but step forwards to reach him better too.

your mind is in so much of a daze that you don’t even realize that satoru turned his limitless infinity just for you.

when you finally step back into reality and—reluctantly—pull away, gojo is grinning brightly with his sunglasses tucked into his hair. you didn’t even notice that he pushed them up to make the kiss more comfortable for you. however, you do notice that your skin still very much feels uncomfortable on your body and your head is pounding (whether it be from the symptoms or the kiss, you don’t really wanna know).

“you’re so cute,” gojo chuckles unabashedly, laughing again when you avert your gaze with another huff and a warm face. you are more than used to his flirty remarks and his more-than-platonic habits, but somehow it feels more... genuine this time around.

“and gullible,” he suddenly adds, the out of blue comment making you turn back towards him with a raised eyebrow. you squeak out a sound of surprise when he unexpectedly, but gently, pushes your head downwards, his other hand now in your line of sight. you feel more confusion swirling in your head when you see him holding a small vial with some clear, greenish liquid inside of it.

“here’s the real antidote,” gojo casually cheers, and he does not have a single shame in the world. a whole minute seems to pass by until you connect the dots, and when you do, the first thing that pops up in your mind is the thought of absolute murder.

“are you serious?” you practically screech. “you made that whole kiss thing up?”

[meanbossart]

You know the Hag casts Vicious Mockery, right? Some of her lines are really fucking mean, lol. To Astarion, she says, "Deep down, you like to be leashed, don't you?" and there's another about the stink of rats on him. To a male drow player, she says something like, "On your knees, boy, just like the matriarchs taught you." She's got something for every race and class, and special stuff for companions.

Anyway. What is something personal and deeply hurtful that she might say to Drow to derail him?

What are his triggers in general, if any? Stuff that will anger him "randomly", in the sense that someone close to him might not understand why he was triggered (and perhaps he might not understand either)?

I had know no clue actually LOL since I found out you can cast silence on her and kill her in two turns I have never given that woman much time to get a word in 😂

DU drow is, unsurprisingly, pretty volatile. Earlier in the campaign when he's fresh off the nautiloid I could think of a few things that may set him off quickly (later, and in ANE, he's much more subdued though, and it depends more on who says it and the kind of day that he's having lol)

Some things that get particularly on his nerves:

-Belittling him, implying that his body and attitude are just a front for his weaknesses. The fastest way to buy a fight with him is to just laugh at everything he says and does and not take him seriously at all. -He's at times insecure about making his loved one's (Astarion & Shadowheart's) lives worse by being around them. Present him any example of how that may be true and you'll have a very sad/angry drow. -Treat him like a wounded animal that just needs a hug and a pet and he'll get all better, it will annoy him even if you have good intentions. -Insist on something after he says "no". Even a little bit. Even if it's silly. You can speedrun any of these by being a female drow. SO for the actual crux of the question, here's a few strong contenders for Vicious Mockery lines that Ethel could blast DU drow with (CONTENT WARNING: IT'S AUNTIE ETHEL.) :

-"Bark, bark, bark, little dog, It don't make you look any scarier"

-"You trying to kill me or fuck me? Or kill me to fuck me? Or fuck me to kill me, pork-chop? "

-(Imitating a crying baby) "That's what you sound like to everyone around you, little boy."

-"Daddy's gonna be so, so disappointed. I'd clench up my hole, if I were you."

-"Such big swings for a drooling, inbred lech."

[hauntedfictionland]

Being their emotional support person —

☾︎✰❛❀ Shadow and bone characters x gn!reader

Includes/warnings: light mentions of PTSD, injuries, slightly stalkerish behaviours and implied romance.

🪐notes: i sort of recently got into Shadow and Bone and oh boy I'm absolutely in love, the plotlines, music, and characters are so beautifully done. I do truly hope that Netflix renews it back.

— I. KAZ BREAKER

(♥︎^⁠_^♥︎)

You and Kaz went back quite a long time as far back as the time his brother died with his innocence. You went through that together, from the sidelines you watched him change drastically, grow into a man whose name was rather feared than loved.

Kaz doesn't admit it, but he relies on you a lot. He knows the harshness he's put upon you everyday isn't new by now, but still unwelcomed. It stings him. You almost get treated the same as any other crow, if not for the times where you'd hold his upper arm in an act of comfort when needed.

And he'd let you. ♡

You're not the most significant part of the group, or the strongly important. But you can be useful enough in his words to ‘stay’, definitely not because Kaz wants you there by his side as he's always had most of his life.

Or so what he insists.

He looks upon you along with every plan of heists, a wordless query of help. It does not look like it, but your opinions and suggestions matter to him more than you'll ever know.

And when you need a favor, he's all yours. Jesper would sometimes find him doing questionable things for a man like Kaz's taste, when he'd ask it always goes a simple “Y/N asked for this”.

When Kaz is faced with his past, especially if without black gloves he has used as a shield—he won't come to you. The most would be handing his gloves back.

But after the worst is gone, he'll slowly reach out to you. Sitting beside you, head leaning on your shoulder. That is the moment he wants the most, support to get back to the daily life.

He needs you.

Needing anything is a weakness surely but he truly never considered you his, without you he'd actually fall apart with the absence of the power to get back again. You're his strength. His support, his person.

You're his, and he's yours.

— II. INEJ GHAFA

(♥︎^⁠_^♥︎)

Inej doesn't really feel comfortable relying on a lot of people, anyone for that matter. Yet when it comes to you it almost seems so effortless. Perhaps that's the effect you have on her.

Kaz brought you in a while ago when he was in desperate need of a healer.

When she saw you the first time, you seemed shy to the point of not even being able to hold eye contact. However as time slowly passed on you spend way more time with Inej than anyone else as she tended to get herself in all sorts of trouble.

Inej would find herself looking at you often, wondering how the alignment of your lips to the sharpness of jaw could ever be so perfect.

She started to let a few things of her past out here and there while you'd bandage her, careful enough to never reach the tip of the surface.

Bit by bit, it turned into a habit. Only now she would come to you herself and open up even when there was no scar or injury on her.

Something about the way you listened so tentatively with soft eyes that held no judgement, your words which grasped onto the feelings she couldn't seem to comprehend and your affection, all of it pulled her in.

And she could not let go.

Sometimes Inej feels a bit guilty, how you're always there yet she isn't. She wants to know about you, your interests, your fears, your life. And she wants to help. In that sense she feels worse.

She's the wraith, she's never been scared of anyone. Yet Inej feels herself becoming powerless the moment she looks at you.

And that'll be the death of her.

— III. ALECSANDER KIRIGAN

(♥︎^⁠_^♥︎)

Much like Kaz, Kirigan is not the most reliable at showing affection. But he does know very clearly the way you've helped him will not go unnoticed or unappreciated.

Rather unexpectedly, even as a grisha on his team you've somehow managed to slip into the cracks of his facade. The demeanor he held.

After Alina fled, he wasn't in the calmest mind. And sensing you just hold him without a single word, a hand soothing his shoulder with a wave of your magic spreading around him. He in the longest while felt peace alongside tranquillity in just a few minutes.

With him in your arms, you gave him a sense of assurance without ever putting them into words.

Kirigan keeps you absolutely spoiled. He tells the extravagant jewelries and fancy wines are gestures of reward for your exertion which he'd give to anyone who'll work just as hard. Except that in truth he feels he owes you a great deal whenever his emotional hard times are mended because of you.

And it's his way of showing the utmost appreciation, almost affection you've placed in his heart for you.

The fact that you don't judge or mock, even think of him as ‘weak’ for not being the powerful general everyone sought out to be has him in a chokehold.

He thinks about you, and every one of your encounters has him thinking for weeks. Each and single one. Soley, it does come off as any surprise when Alecsander sets at least one grisha protector to watch you. Your safety is his utmost priority and even perhaps to know a little details about you and the people you talk with.

Which you don't need to know about whatsoever.

The time he revealed his true self to you, he was very much afraid that was the way he'll lose you. You'd see the monster his mother claims him to be and run far away. But instead when you embraced his dark side with a glint in your eyes, he knew you had him whipped in a tight hold.

— IV. ALINA STARKOV

(♥︎^⁠_^♥︎)

You first saw Alina when Zoya sent her flying across the field. Rather before that, eyes stealing glances on you.

She knew who you were, the great earth summoner. And as per who she was, Alina felt inclined to meet you. Her newly found peers brought her upon you, and when you turned to face her, Alina was quite at a loss for words.

Wonderstruck.

You seemed far much greater than she imagined, and oh she had a lot to learn from you.

Alina found you on many occasions, tried to as best she could. Questions about your powers, her powers, and secrets of the little palace. You gave them all, heart smiling fondly at her genuine curiosity.

You'd discover yourself sitting beside her, on the floor with backs leaning against the wooden bookshelves. Walks around the little palace or the library, you were growing much closer with her as the days passed.

Sometimes a word or two would slip out of her missing a certain Mal, and the camp of the first army. She would close them, a bit scared of your thoughts that is before you assure her. That whatever is was held in her heart, she could absolutely come to you.

And came she did.

You and her would spend hours under the night sky, hearing her stories of the orphanage—worries she held about herself, and Mal. Either way Alina was sure you were her answer.

The way you'd given her a tiny beam of grin, hands grazing over hers. Talking conclusions she could barely listen when her focus was your lips. A connection she felt that was electrifying.

Alina believed it was because of your power as the Earth, and her's as the Sun summoner. However in that, a deeper part of her knew something was more than that.

A single time someone referred you as her Earth summoner, the mere prospect of that—even when she knew the other meant it in no harm, drove her crazy.

The time after you comforted her about the troubles she held about Mal, sincere yet bittersweet smile on your lips. You knew she had feelings for the boy, a thought that made your gut wrench for a reason you didn't acknowledge.

When you asked her that, Alina's eyes gazed at yours before she pulled her lips on yours in return so softly you could only hum.

You were hers alright.

[roronoacherries]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘢 𝘻𝘰𝘳𝘰 𝘧𝘵. 𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘺

3.404 words — inspired by anon request

content: nsfw, fem. reader, slightly non-con, unprotected, degradation, implied daddy/breeding kink, choking; y/n cheats on zoro with luffy and the swordsman decides that if she wants to be a slut, they can share her.

note: this has been in my drafts for too long i don't even know if it's good but i tried. the characterization and plot are terrible but i'm just tryna get fucked by the captain and his first mate, okay?

luffy would understand. he would. all you needed to do was tell him; tell him that your heart belonged to zoro, that you were his in every sense of the word. he’d drop the subject without hesitation. 

he was betraying his first mate without knowing it, all by your cause – the thought weighed on you as you lay breathless in the captain’s arms. the straw hat didn’t know any better – it was on you to let him down, to deny his indecent proposal. but when you felt him pressed against your backside, slurring as he whispered crudities in your ear, all you   do was think with your heat, too tipsy to listen to your head or your heart. 

the first time should have been the last time. you swore to yourself that it would be when you came to your senses… but didn’t zoro constantly reproach everyone about it being the duty of the crew to fulfill the captain’s orders, regardless of what they may be? and if the captain wanted you on your knees for him, his fingers tangled in your hair as he used you to chase his own pleasure, who were you to deny him of it? if he wanted you to sit on his face while he feasted on you, insatiable from between your thighs, what right did you have to say no? 

he was your captain; it was your obligation as a straw hat to obey his orders. all he needed to do was say the word and he could have you – whether he wanted you to ride him, to watch you whimper incoherently as you bounced on his cock, a sweaty, needy mess; to be balls deep inside you, fucking you mercilessly into the mattress, gripping your ass tightly as you moaned incessantly against a pillow. 

what zoro didn't know wouldn't hurt him, you reasoned. and this was the last time. you promised yourself you'd tell luffy the truth next time – but time and time again, you couldn't bring yourself to deny your captain. it was too intoxicating, the way luffy could fuck you senseless, using your cunt as his plaything – it was too good to give up. 

you loved zoro — he treated you like a goddess, all but worshiping you in bed; he knew your body better than you did and could prove it in a thousand different ways. there was no one who could make you feel like he did, no one who could please you more than he could. the swordsman was a passionate lover; the captain was a selfish one. so it should have been enough for you – it should have been easy to reject luffy’s advances if all he did was use you for his own pleasure, but you liked being used. 

you tried to make sense of it, to find reason in your wrongs, but to try and be sensible with luffy’s cock hard against your ass was futile. 

“yes, captain”; “please, captain”; “fuck me, captain,” we’re the only coherent thoughts you could form when he came to you, his eyes heavy with lust — the guilt and shame of it all only weighing on you after committing your sins. 

and it was guilt-ridden that you always made your way back to zoro, begging to get on your knees for him. you'd please him in all the ways you knew best, never letting him return the favor. 

“just let me make you feel good, baby.”

but the swordsman was no fool. he knew that if you were coming to him, asking to suck him off for nothing in return, it wasn't because you wanted to be a good little slut for him. he wasn't blind to the weakness in your step after your disappearances or oblivious to the lingering scent of sex on your skin when you came to him. nor did he miss the hunger in luffy's eyes whenever you strolled past him.

no, but zoro didn't think of confronting you about it. if you wanted to be a whore, he'd let you be one — though not without reminding you who your sweet cunt really belonged to. 

you could spread your legs for whoever you desired, it wouldn’t change that he had you wrapped around his finger. all it ever took was one look and he could have your heart racing; he never had to say a word, only to meet your eyes…to absentmindedly drag his fingers along your thigh as he took a swig of sake and you’d stumble over your words, excusing yourself from the dinner table, eagerly awaiting him below the crow’s nest. 

“how’s my girl doing?” zoro murmured against your lips, returning the kiss you greeted him with before pulling away, his hands resting on your waist.

“never leave the ship without me again. i missed you,” you pouted, pressing your lips to his once more. wrapping your arms around him, you dragged your lips along his jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses down his neck. “someone might see…” zoro warned quietly, though not pulling away from you either.

“don’t care.” with pleading eyes, you looked up at the swordsman. “i need you.” 

“‘s that right?” the swordsman teased, feigning a smirk in spite of the tightness he felt in his chest. he’d already decided this would be the last night he spent with you; why, then, did your words make him falter in his resolve? why did his subconscious hold out for the hope that in asserting that you didn’t care if this relationship was no longer a secret, you were choosing him? 

he forced the thought out of his mind. what did it matter, if the damage had already been done. he met your eyes, those he’d lost himself in so many times before. “how badly?”

“so badly,” you sighed, holding his face in your hands. giving into you, zoro closed the gap between you with a feverish kiss. your legs wrapped around his waist, your body aching so desperately for his touch that if he wanted to, you’d let him have you on the deck. 

“hold on,” he said, breathlessly, placing a hand on your waist as he stepped toward the ladder of the crow’s nest. you held on to him tightly as he climbed, resting your head comfortably against his shoulder, a soft smile tugging at your lips at the sight of him. “i love you, zoro,” you whispered, closing your eyes and missing the way zoro’s widened at your words. 

love. 

the word had come easily to you, as if you were worthy of loving him. you tried to push the thought out of your mind, planting soft kisses along zoro’s cheek as your lips made their way back to his the moment you entered the crow’s nest. 

you kept your legs locked around him as he gently rest your back against the floor, rolling your hips against his fervently. “please. zoro.” 

was it the guilt that made you so desperate to have him? 

“so goddamn needy for me, aren’t ya?”

the desire to forget that you’d let someone else stand between your thighs? 

“i need you, ‘ro…” 

“who’s this pretty cunt belong to?” zoro pressed himself against you, spreading your legs further, the throbbing of his length alone making you feel weak. 

“it’s yours, zoro. all yours.” you didn’t deserve him. 

“y’ hear that, captain?” 

you stiffened, feeling a sudden weight in your chest as zoro stepped back. his gaze stayed fixed on you as you failed to hide the panic and shame on your face. you had no right to look away, to avoid seeing the hint of pain that hid in his eyes — the pain you had provoked — but you feared that if you didn’t turn away, you wouldn’t be able to fight back your tears. and you had no right to cry. 

your eyes met luffy’s who stared back at you blankly from where he sat, his legs spread apart, arms resting against his knees, before looking at zoro, “didn’t seem that way when i was fucking her.” 

“zoro,” you struggled to speak, knowing it would be useless to. “i can explain.”

“and what’s there to explain?” the swordsman gripped your chin, his tone cold but calm as he forced you to face him.  “that you’re a filthy slut?”

there was nothing you could say, nothing you could do but stare back at him in guilt and take his anger. “that you’ve been lettin the captain fuck you whenever he wants like you’re his toy?”

“i’m sorry,” you spoke in a whisper, knowing your words could fix nothing. zoro was right, after all. 

“guess one man isn’t enough for you.” he removed his hand from your face before turning his back to you, not bearing the sincere look of regret and heartbreak in your eyes. despite the coldness in his demeanor, he had still held you with the same gentleness as always. 

“that’s alright. if you want to be a whore, we can share. ain’t that right, luff?” you looked at the two in confusion, certain that you must have misheard. luffy’s eyes were on you now, eyes alight with a hunger that reminded you of the dripping sensation between your thighs from moments ago. they couldn’t be thinking…

“why don’t you start with her, captain.” zoro took a seat across from you, leaning back and spreading his legs as he stared down at you still on your knees. “go on, y/n. show the captain what a good girl you are.” he taunted. 

your attention turned back to luffy and you opened your mouth to protest, to beg zoro for forgiveness but all words were lost on you as you found yourself at eye-level with your captain’s protruding boner. even through his shorts, the sight was enough to make you hold back a whimper. 

but you couldn’t. not like this. what kind of person would that make you?

“show me what a little slut you are, y/n.” zoro smirked. you felt your heat pulsate at his words. morality and reason told you one thing, but your body – the drool pooling in your mouth, the throbbing between your legs, the burning sensation of your skin aching to be touched – told you another. 

“c’mon, y/n, don’t be shy. ‘t feels so good when you have my cock in your mouth,” luffy coaxed. face hot with shame, you slowly tugged luffy’s shorts down, his thick length swollen red; you spared a glance at zoro while luffy’s hands gently grasped your hair, noticing his hand palming his own length through his pants. 

“put that mouth to good use now,” zoro spoke, his voice deep and commanding. 

obediently, you took luffy’s cock in your hand, squeezing gently as you licked and sucked softly at the tip. you looked up at the captain, admiring briefly the way his breath hitched, mouth agape as his eyes shut in pleasure. but luffy wasn’t one to let you tease or take him slowly; he was impatient and rough, and though you’d expected it, the feel of his hand pushing you forward suddenly still caused your eyes to tear. 

“she’s good, ain’t she luff?” the pair admired the sight of you, cheeks flushed, watered eyes staring up helplessly, mouth stuffed with luffy’s cock. “so good,” luffy slurred through quiet grunts. “t’s like her mouth was made just for this.”

“…and i bet the whore’s dripping wet,” zoro thought out loud. you could have sworn you heard a low moan escape his lips. “fuck, i need a taste.” 

your eyes widened at his words and a whimper definitely left your lips then, provoking a thrust from your captain that made certain tears fell from your eyes. 

you felt zoro behind you, his hands firmly grasping your ass after lifting your skirt. he didn’t bother to remove your panties, licking through the already-soaked fabric. you fought in vain to hold back the moans this sensation arose, evoking a slew of curses from luffy. you couldn’t keep from digging your fingers into his thighs, eyes weeping as you feel him deep against the back of your throat. 

if you could have, you would’ve pouted when zoro pulled back; though he only did so to tug your underwear down with his teeth, making his way back to your cunt slowly, leaving a trail of kisses along the inside of your thighs. you could swear that no other man knew how to use his mouth as well as the swordsman. and, god, did he love to use it on you, his cock throbbing as he grew intoxicated on the taste of you. 

you knew you couldn’t last long – you never did when zoro had a say – and you could feel your legs begin to shake as the swordsman spread your legs, giving his tongue a better entry. if it weren’t for his hands squeezing your ass so tightly they were bound to leave a mark, you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up. 

“shit. let me finish inside her, zoro…” luffy grunted and you couldn’t help but whine as he pulled out and zoro obliged, pulling away, leaving you so close to coming. his hands left your ass, but not without one coming down again with a rough slap. “what’re you thinking, pretty little slut? want the captain to stuff you full?”

“please,” you begged, nodding desperately as you stared up at luffy, dumbfucked and doe-eyed. the straw hat wasted not a second shoving his cock deep within you, his pace as selfish as ever as he sought only his own release. 

“she’s so fucking wet. shit feels so good,” luffy huffed, a grin tugging at his lips as he left you breathless. you couldn’t help but love the way he stretched you and the merciless pace with which he pounded into you. he was undoubtedly a selfish lover who knew no restraint, overwhelming your senses without remorse. 

“luffy, ‘m so close,” you moaned, your voice needier than you intended it to be; every inch of your body felt like it was on fire, your walls tightening around luffy as his cock pulses deep inside your wet heat.

“i’ll fill you up and make you come so good if you call me something else…” he teased, ecstatic at the sight of you whimpering under him. you didn’t 

“captain- fuck. please, captain.”

“you sound so pretty when you call me that,” luffy praised, pressing his lips to your cheek before quickening his reckless pace. his eyes shut in bliss and his breathing grew heavier as he reached his high, ​​the feeling of his hot cum pumping into you more than enough to push you over the edge. 

“thank you, captain.” you mumbled, a weak and whimpering mess. 

“thank you, y/n. you’re a sweet little slut.” luffy left a trail of kisses along your cheek as he slipped out of you, your pussy dripping with his seed, but even in your fucked out state you turned away when his lips came too close to yours. despite everything you’d done – all of the times you’d let luffy fuck you senseless – you’d never let him kiss you. that was, however small and insignificant, the one thing you wouldn’t take from zoro. 

this detail was not lost on the swordsman, who moved from where he’d sat admiring you drunk on luffy’s cock to press his lips to yours hungrily. it was far from a romantic kiss, but something carnal and possessive; a claim that you were still, and would always be, his own – even if he decided he wanted nothing to do with you. 

you could feel his hard cock pulsing against your thigh. “don’t think you’re done yet,” he huffed, pressing himself further against you before releasing his thick length from its constraints, leaking with pre and flushed red with the need to feel your walls tightly around him. “let’s put on a good show for the captain.” 

there was little more you could do than stifle a moan and nod pathetically in response. you didn’t know if you could take him, still far too sensitive from luffy, but you desperately wanted to feel his pretty cock inside you nonetheless. 

zoro pressed his tip against you and you groaned at the sensation. slowly, he pressed himself further into you though still without giving you the pleasure of feeling him stretch you completely. you wanted to beg him to move faster, but you were afraid all you would be able to do is mumble incoherences. regardless, you knew zoro was well aware of your desperation; the swordsman always knew exactly what your body desired, often before you knew yourself. 

a smirk spread on his lips as he leaned forward, biting gently at your earlobe. “no one can fuck you like i can.” he whispered. 

threat or gentle reminder, you weren’t given time to process zoro’s words before he thrust roughly into you, bottoming out without warning. zoro took only a moment to indulge in the familiar feeling of your soaking cunt clenched around him, hissing at the pleasure, before thrusting into you at a pace rivaling the captain’s in ruthlessness. 

the swordsman, however, was more precise, more intentional with his movements. he rolled his hips against yours, purposefully hitting all the places he knew would draw out the most sinful whimpers from your lips. 

his hands, too, moved along your body, touching you in ways that consumed your senses; cupping your breasts in his hands, toying with your nipples; inching one hand slowly down your torso as it found its way to your clit while the other moved to your neck, not applying any pressure but making your breath hitch anyway. no, he knew to wait until he felt your walls squeeze around him after his cock took a couple of rough hits against your favorite spot; until you let out a guttural moan cut short by his fingers tightening around your throat. 

“how’s my babygirl feel?” zoro hummed, pulling you into his arms as he repositioned you both so that you were seated on his lap. “think you can fuck yourself on my cock like a pretty little whore?” 

part of you wanted to shake your head, but you were too close to your climax to argue. holding onto zoro, his face buried in your chest as nibbled and sucked on your chest, you moved your hips against his, slowly despite yearning for the intensity of the swordsman’s thrusts. 

“look ‘t how you’ve got luffy fucking his fist just watching you. it’s no wonder he couldn’t keep his hands off a slut like you,” zoro said, feeling his warm breath against your neck as he left a trail of kisses down to your shoulder. 

“zoro, ‘m close,” you whimpered, a tight sensation growing in your abdomen as you bounced on his cock inconsistently, fighting to keep your thighs from giving out. 

“ride it out, baby, you’re doing so well.” zoro held your waist for support, restraining himself from fucking the lights out of you. if you couldn’t come on your own then that would be part of your punishment. 

“please, daddy, let me cum with you.”

you knew well that this word would flip a switch within the swordsman; that he would groan at the sight of your eyes pleading him to fuck you as you halted your movements. you knew well that his eyes would darken and he’d press your back against the floor again as he pushed your thighs up to your chest, thrusting into you hard as he neared his high. 

“fine. in that case, you’re gonna take every last drop of daddy’s cum. got it?” 

you nodded desperately, wanting to feel him empty himself inside you, shoving his cock into you mercilessly to make sure you didn’t let any of it drip out. 

“fuck. you might be a dirty slut but this pretty pussy’s still all mine,” zoro groaned, giving his last few thrusts before pressing his lips to yours. you held him close, legs wrapped around him, your body aching at the mere thought of him pulling out. 

he was right; no one could fuck you like he could – no one could make love to you like he could. but you’d been too much of a whore to think with your head (or your heart, for that matter) instead of your cunt. and you’d have to let go, sooner than later.

─────────────────────────────

taglist: @zorobraun @maaarshieee @lyriczhou @tinkywinky27 @dimimyth @gaby-chwan @tk6uro @zoros-4th-sword @idiotlittleme @zoronnoa

masterlist | taglist

[kngrose]

can we get some bully headcanons for sevika? Please 😫🥵

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐊𝐀 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘

WARNINGS: bullying, harassment, implied degradation, implied dehumanization, implied power dynamics, abuse of power/position, abuse, violence. be safe, heed warnings!

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : anon………… you might be onto something…

When it comes to bullying you, Sevika takes it to a different, almost sadistic level. There’s something particularly unsettling about the way Sevika derives enjoyment from your discomfort and pain, especially because she perceives you as weak and vulnerable.

It’s not enough that she’s already double your size, her sheer height that towers yours, and her mass— inclined top to bottom with muscle. Or that she could easily snap you in two if she so pleased.

She’ll be testing the waters at first; bumping your shoulders harshly when she passed you, hard enough to make you stumble back. Or tripping you occasionally, watching your arms flail fruitlessly to catch yourself.

Because bullying isn't simply about asserting dominance; it’s about relishing in the power she holds over the situation. It’s about drawing a reaction out of you, it fufills her in a way nothing else does.

She’ll step up her game once she realizes a little bump on your shoulders just isn’t enough. Now, she’s spewing insults and making harsh threats. Talking poorly of you amongst others in your presence; all to make you acutely aware of the hierarchy. The dynamic. She’s the one in control, you don’t get to ignore her.

And there’s never a sense of empathy or remorse in her actions—only a dark satisfaction that feeds her ego and solidifies her position of power over you.

She’s harsh, she’s cold. She incredibly insensitive. What really makes Sevika stand out is the fact that she takes her time, patience is a virtue. She’s calculated with what she says and does; makes sure its always something that’ll hit the nail on the head.

When she speaks, it’s laced with a cold, condescending tone. She finds content in making you feel small, belittling your every attempt to stand up for yourself. Her words are like ice, cutting through any bravado you might try to muster.

She’ll give you orders, ones that are humiliating and degrading. Ones that almost dehumanize you. Dont walk towards her, crawl. What reason do you have to walk anyways? Not like you’re going anywhere she isn’t. And in addition to that, there’s no need to take a chair either, you’ll be just fine on your knees at her feet. She doesn't need to raise her voice; the venom in her tone is enough to make your stomach turn.

She makes it very clear that you’d better do what she says.

And if you hesitate? That’s when Sevika leans in, her proximity a reminder that she’s always in control. The heavy threat of physical violence is there, lurking in her body language, and that’s usually all it takes to make you pliant. You have no idea what she’s capable of.

“You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to break something."

When she does decide to escalate, it’s a careful and well thought out move. She might corner you in a quiet, isolated spot, where your fear is palpable, and she can enjoy the way your breath hitches when you realize there’s nowhere to run.

She’ll impose her massive size on you, blocking you in. Trapping you. It’s maddening, not know what her next move is.

And if you try to fight her, she’ll be elated. She couldn’t miss that small fire erupting in your eyes. A look nothing short of sadistic etching it’s way onto her face. It’s thrilling, she thinks. It’s almost cute, watching you aim poorly executed blows at her face and chest; your form is horrible, you’re doing more damage to yourself than anything. She’ll snicker, because it’s funny, and because she knows it’ll discourage you.

She’ll relish in this moment, she loves to watch the fire dim.

“Feeling brave, puppy?” She’ll sneer, and she’ll push you. Hard. It’s sends you backwards, just barely keeping your balance. Its the first time shes used her full force on you. “Fight me, then.” She’ll follow up with another shove, this one knocking you off your feet.

And she’ll bend down, gripping the collar of your shirt to reel you back up. “On your feet. Fight.” She doesn’t even have to hit you, she realizes. She’s just tossing you around, pushing and shoving and pushing and shoving. Watching you hit every corner in the room. “Fight back.” She’ll bark, but she knows that you won’t.

She can see it manifesting on you, clear as day. You’re tired; you can hardly keep your balance up. There’s small bruises forming on your shoulders and arms; from being shoved into different surfaces.

But there’s something else she notices as she grabs you off the floor again, your scared, tired eyes meeting hers.

That fire, it’s gone.

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist to be notified whenever i post, xx

taglist: @opropheticsoul @randomperson291 @arevik2345 @gravegoer @d3eathnotes @nikaachuuuu

[creative-caramel-coffee]

It’s me again, something similar happened to me yesterday when I was moving to school, and could really use the girls for comfort rn

R is stressed trying to quickly move things, perhaps moving into wandanat room? When she falls, to her it’s blank one minute she was standing the next she’s in pain on the floor? Obviously r is stubborn and tries to carry on not wanting to be seen as weak or lazy. But the girls notice and immediately go into caring mode where the see r is actually bleeding and hurt her ankle.

“Oh my sweet girl you could’ve come to us. We aren’t mad. Let’s clean you up”

“You can’t walk darling, you’ll make it worse”

“Lots of love for our love bug”

“Shhh no saying sorry. They are not necessary sweet girl, you can’t help it”

Any fluffy comfort dialogue 🥹

~ 🕯️ I would like this emoji like you suggested so you can see I’m the writer you’ve been on my page recently lmao

Moving in but with crutches

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.5K

Summary: Reader is super excited to move in with her girls but she’s a little clumsy and ends up needing some tlc

TW: light mentions of blood, sprain (implied), injury

A/n sorry this took so long to get done but I hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing it. Also I’m happy for you to be 🕯 anon :)

It was finally time. Ever since moving to the compound your gaze had trailed after them like a lost puppy. Them, being the power couple of the compound. Them, being Wanda and Natasha.

You were sure the mind reader and spy couldn’t have missed the light shades of pink that dusted your cheeks every time they spoke to you. Or maybe they just thought you weren’t very sun safe, either way it didn’t matter now because the three of you had been dating for four months now and despite all the milestones that are in a relationship this one was the one you were most excited for. Moving in with them.

Sure, you had been sleeping in their bed for like two weeks now, but it was never really officially your room. You still had all your stuff in the other smaller room tony had built for you when you joined the team. Wanda and Nat party because they were sharing a room and party because they had been on the team for far longer, had a much larger and your opinion much nicer room. Furnished with Wanda’s touches and Natasha’s tastes. There were enough plants, courtesy of Wanda, to compete with a forrest and it was just beautiful.

You had spent the morning packing your stuff into box’s, sure it was just across the hall, but your stuff was important to you, and you wanted the full experience.

You came to the tower with nothing but your name and the clothes on your back, so you wanted the full nine yards. Wanda and Nat were supportive and had been helping you pack. But as lunch neared all of you were getting hungry so nat and Wanda had gone out to pick up some takeaway. Claiming that the living alone lifestyle was about to change, and you should make the most of it. Of course, that statement led to an argument over who was more of a blanket hog which you did your best not to be roped into.

Once the two had secured their keys and left, still bickering however, you turned up your music and moved over to some of the heavier items.

Pulling the books off the bookshelf and placing them neatly in boxes you moved over to the lamp. But in your haste accidentally pulled on the chord.

One second you were upright and the next thing you knew you were on the floor. As your senses came back to you and you shifted into a sitting position, the pain flooded in. Your ankle was bleeding, the bulb must have smashed, and on top of that the joint hurt like all hades.

Despite the calming breathes you took your ankle was starting to look worse. A light blue bruise that you were sure was only going to darken began to form around the joint and you closed your eyes.

Thank God you had turned up the music or someone would have surely come in to see if you were ok. How embarrassing, being an avenger only to be taken down by a lamp. No. You were not lazy. You were not weak.

Sucking in a breath you carefully got to your feet trying to avoid the glass. Putting any pressure on the ankle made it feel like you were stepping on a thousand suns, but you simply pushed through. You were not weak. You were an avenger. You moved as fast as possible to clean up the mess, which let's be honest wasn’t very fast.

You swept the glass up and placed the seemingly undamaged corpse of a lamp into a box for later. However, it was now no longer welcome in your new room. No. You made a small pledge to hide that box for when your ankle was better and seek some revenge on the stupid piece of furniture.

You had just finished sealing off the box of nightmares with the packing tape when two short raps came from the open doorway. You turned around as smoothly as you could with the pain in your foot and smiled at Natasha.

“Hey baby, Wanda’s gone to start getting the food ready in the kitchen are you gonna join us?” She asked.

“Yeah sure. Like I’d ever say no to that.” You said trying your best to hide a wince as you took a step towards Nat. Her brow furrowed and eyebrows pinched together as she didn’t miss the action at all.

“Baby? are you ok?” She asked. You wavered but plastered on the fake smile you used for Tony’s galas.

“One hundred percent. Did you get pad Thai?” You asked and tried to change the subject. Nat knew something was wrong and looked you up and down doing a mental scan to find the problem. You knew you were screwed when her eyes zeroed in on your sock. You had slipped it on last minute to hide the cut on your foot and in your haste had managed to miss the fact it had bled through the pale fabric.

Nat was over by your side in an instant, she guided you by your shoulders to the bed and pressed down to make you sit.

“Sit” she said leaving zero room for questions. You simply nodded as she crouched down and placed your foot on her knee. Gently she peeled back the sock and sighed at the semi-deep cut that ran down your heel. Your ankle was swollen and looked angry, and Nat was surprised you were able to walk at all but suspected that the fading adrenaline may have something to do with it.

“Wanda!” She yelled and the two of you heard hurried footsteps and Wanda appeared in the doorway.

“Yes?! Whats the matter?” She asked looking panicked. When she saw the two of you were still alive and breathing, she sighed and placed a hand over her heart.

“Jesus don’t do that nat.” She said. Nat shrugged.

“Sorry baby. Can you grab the first aid kit in the bathroom Y/n/n here felt she could hide something from us.” She said gesturing to the ensuite and then your foot which was propped up in her lap. She was holding the destroyed sock to the cut to stop the bleeding which made you wince. Wanda nodded and disappeared before coming back with the kit and placing it down beside Nat.

Wanda gave the injury a proper look now and softened her gaze and took your hand, rubbing circles on your knuckles with her thumb.

"Oh, my sweet girl you could've come to us. We aren't mad. Let's clean you up" she said.

“I-its fine. Im fine. No problem.” You said and went to move your foot from Nat’s lap who had just finished bandaging the cut. She grabbed your calf gently but tightly and glared at you before softening at the sight of tears in your eyes.

"You can't walk darling; you'll make it worse" she said gently and you huffed.

Wanda stood and sat next to you on the bed and began pressing kisses to your cheek and arms.

“It just means lots of love for our love bug" she said and pulled you in for a hug. Nat nodded and joined the hug.

“Sorry.” You said in a small voice. But Nat hushed you with a kiss to the lips it was soft and tender. When she pulled away, she looked into your eyes.

"Shhh no saying sorry. That’s not necessary sweet girl, you can't help it" she said and rubbed her nose against yours in a gentle moment of pure love.

“Do you want me to bring the food here or Natty can carry you into the lounge so we can prop your foot up to eat? Either way you're getting ice and rest on the ankle.” Wanda said and you let a single tear fall at the tenderness of it all. Wanda was quick to wipe it away and press a kiss to the tear track.

“Baby don’t cry love. We’ve got you honey.” She said and you sniffled.

“The lounge maybe?” You said and Wanda chuckled.

“Of course, sweetheart. Nat?” She said and gestured to you who grinned like a feral animal and scooped you up with little to no warning. You squealed and clutched your arms around her. She laughed deeply and you swatted her chest. The three of you went to the lounge and Nat called Bruce to bring you some crutches for later and Wanda finished prepping the food.

After the three of you were cuddled up under a blanket with ice on your ankle and old movie reruns playing in the background. Soon you drifted to sleep as Wanda ran her hands through your hair and nat traced patterns on your exposed thigh. After all you were only in a large t-shirt and boxers. The rest of the team was away apart from Bruce, but he never left the lab anyway. You we’re content. Happy. Safe. And loved. Life couldn’t get any better.

MASTERLIST

[stellar-skyy]

MECHANICAL HEART - Platonic Ei & reader

i. SUMMARY: After she discarded her first prototype, Ei created a second. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Dehumanization (is it dehumanization if they aren't technically human?), mentions of abandonment, implied emotional neglect. Ei isn't the best parent in this one tbh. iii. NOTES: Platonic, angst, puppet!reader, gn!reader, 0.8k words. iv. A/N: ok i said i wasn't gonna write this week cause i'm busy but in my defense i've been procrastinating a lot and this is the result.

When Ei sought to create a body to withstand eternity, she didn’t plan to create two prototypes. She only needed one vessel, and any excess was unwelcomed. What she didn’t account for was failing miserably at her first attempt, and having to redesign her plan entirely.

You were the stronger one, if only by a small fraction. You had stared up at her, wide and unblinking, and something changed behind her eyes. She brought you close into her arms—gently, for any more pressure and you might have cracked into two.

It wasn’t quite love. She cared for you the way an inventor cared for their creations, all out of a sense of duty and a desire to preserve what has been so carefully built. There wasn’t a single ounce of maternal affection behind it.

She looked after you of course, like any good inventor would. She’d repair the cracks across your arms and legs, and test each one of your joints to make sure they were in working order. Her hands would trace around your wrists, feeling exactly where the ball-and-socket connected with an unabashed sort of curiosity. You were a source of fascination for her, a wonder of her own invention. How could it be that she created something like you from parts of her inhuman self: eyes glistening with tears that felt real, staring at her with such childish innocence.  

You were so human—perhaps even more so than herself—and yet you were completely synthetic.

She didn’t love you. But she held you in her arms and pressed gentle kisses to your forehead when you cried, and was that not close enough? You could forget how cold her lips were on your skin, and try to ignore how limp her hold was, if it allowed you another moment of believing she cared for you.

It was a sort of care, you reasoned. An emotion so raw and tender, one might mistake it for love if they were desperate enough. Deep down, you knew better. You knew that all the love Ei had to share died with her sister. If there was any left, she would have taken pity on the other prototype—your brother.

He was a soft one. Round face, long lashes, hair falling down his back in waves of indigo. His sobs spilled freely from the moment he was created, covering his cheeks in tears. An emotional creature, Ei had called him. Too fragile to rule a nation, too weak to be used as a reference for her final vessel like you had become. Almost as quickly as he’d been created, he was whisked away and out of sight.

“Safekeeping.” She said. She didn’t tell you what that meant, or which corner your brother had been tucked away into.

But even gone, his presence never truly left you; he was always there as a cautionary tale for what could happen if you failed to live up to Ei’s expectations. He was the example, the proof that if you weren’t enough, you would be discarded like the simple puppet you were.

There wasn’t any love in her eyes when she looked at you, but she still spent time at your side. She’d sit with you for hours in the Plane of Euthymia—whether it be out of some misplaced sort of parental instinct, or a deeply rooted guilt at creating you in the first place, you wouldn’t know—not saying much, but content for you to exist within the same space as her.

The entire occurrence felt a touch too normal to feel natural. You were just two inhuman creatures, masquerading as mortals for each other’s sake. She kept the visits brief, and always dismissed you first.

(And if she embraced you as you left, a suspicious glossiness over her eyes, you didn’t comment on it.)

It was observing the humans themselves that made you realize how unlike them you truly were.

They lived so carelessly, talking loudly amongst themselves and living blissfully without the crushing weight of the world on their shoulders. Women would walk with children balanced on their hip or clinging to their hands. They’d ruffle their hair and laugh at their antics, and there was a distinct feeling that you couldn’t quite place. No heart lay in your chest, but there was a phantom heartbeat thrumming in your ears.

Wouldn’t it be nice to be treated with such… what was it, love? You had never experienced such a thing, not from the person who acted as your ‘mother’. She could do the exact same things they did, but you would be able to tell there was no emotion behind it.

You were her puppet, her creation. You were born from parts of herself, cobbled together into something resembling a person. And no matter how tightly she held you, no matter how many times she looked at you with an unreadable look across her face, you wouldn’t truly be her child.

It wasn’t love. She made sure you didn’t get it mixed up, telling you bluntly that there wasn’t room for love in eternity.

That didn’t matter. As long as she still took care of you, you could pretend.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Can you do headcanons for how Jennifer Check would comfort a male S/O?

sure thing anon 💕

Jennifer Check comforting a male s/o

Warnings: slight hurt/comfort, implied angst, brief mentions of murder

As we all know, Jennifer is not a very touchy-feely kind of person

She tends to push down her own emotions and hide them with an unbelievable amount of snark so she won't be seen as vulnerable or weak

At the beginning of your relationship she'd most likely continue trying to remain detached and unbothered until she saw you upset over something

If you were any other guy she'd eat you immediately, but luckily for you she makes an exception because she loves you and couldn't possible dream of devouring your cute little face (her words, not mine)

Her first reaction is to hunt down whoever hurt you and make them pay, regardless of whether you want her to or not

It's much easier for her to eliminate the problem through murder than it is for her to reassure you either physically or verbally, but once it becomes clear that the first option usually doesn't work she decides to try doing the second one instead

Jennifer never had anybody to rely on or go to for comfort before she met you, so the idea is a bit foreign to her

The first few times she tries to help you feel better she accidentally makes things worse by saying the wrong thing

That's not to say she doesn't try to help, because she does, but it's a learning curve for sure

After awhile she's finally able to get the hang of it, even if she isn't perfect

If it's physical affection that you need, she's more than happy to let you cling onto her for as long as you need to

Verbal reassurances aren't exactly in her wheelhouse, but for you she definitely tries her best

Most of the time she just sort of awkwardly pats your back while muttering something along the lines of "it's okay, don't worry"

It doesn't seem like much, but coming from her it means a lot

Assuming you're someone who enjoys her vulgar sense of humor, she'll probably end up cracking a joke just for the chance of getting to see you smile

She feels accomplished the second she hears you let out a snort of laughter, proud of herself for being able to make you feel better in her own way

End notes: anon I love you for requesting this in general but specifically with a male reader

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