#spare me I need to deal with the pain
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Imma be honest, Terry would have been much more successful convincing Claudia, if he' ha'd showed her the ruins of Katolis.
I simply cannot believe anyone would be moved seeing Sol Regem dead and not have been like "Yeah, man...but...he was kind of an asshole".
#the dragon prince#tdp shitpost#spare me I need to deal with the pain#the dragon prince season 6#tdp spoilers#tdp claudia#tdp terry
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college!sukuna lives literally next door. you live in one of those apartment complexes where you rent a room and then have a common kitchen, bathroom and stuff with your almost-roommates inside of a bigger complex made of apartments just like yours, for students only.
if it wasn't for his 9 year old brother yuuji, who casually lives across from your room (wasn't this place for college students?) and is the literal definition of a ray of sunshine, you'd hate his guts. sure, he's hot for a guy who looks like he's failing half of his classes and makes sure you hear every single one of the girls he brings into his room at night, but he's still a major pain in your ass.
"where the hell do you think you're going?" he tells his brother, leaning on his door, arms crossed. the child is rushing to put his shoes on and zipping his sweater up.
"yn said she's going to take me running!" he responds grinning, tripping on his own feet from how excited he is before softly knocking on your door, all while sukuna looks at him raising one eyebrow.
"i'm starting to think you like her more than me, brat," he grits out just as you get out.
"oh he does, he just doesn't want to hurt your feelings by saying it," you rub in his face without sparing him a glance. he huffs and rolls his eyes, really wanting to punch you in the face. you ignore him and smile at yuuji, getting at his eye level.
"ready? whoever gets tired last will be the first player tonight in mario kart," you say wiggling your eyebrows.
"deal!" he squeals happily before running out the door. you know he's going to wait for you, he's a good kid, he's not going to run away. he's more mature than any 9 year old should be.
"y'know, if you needed some cardio you could've come in my room," sukuna tells you coming closer and looking you up and down. you have this cute set on that is making him salivate, but he still maintains some kind of distance.
"on my dead body, itadori senior," you lightly push him out of the way and go back into your room to get your bag.
"come on, i'll even push your head in the sheets so as not to look at your annoying ass face," he remarks, and you shoot him a dirty glance. he flips you off.
"can you talk about something that doesn't make me want to rip my ears off?" you mumble while searching for your house keys.
"i can talk about how i'll break your neck if you don't bring back my brother in two hours, if you want," he says, looking at you from the doorway, bored.
"he still likes me more."
"when you get home there will be another lock, bitch."
#college au#sukuna x reader#sukuna jjk#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x y/n#sukuna fluff#i guess? idk#LITTLE YUUJI MY BELOVED
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🐝 * ― 𝑬𝑷𝑰𝑪: 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.
Troy Saga ❛ do what i say and you'll see them again. ❜ ❛ what do you live for? what do you try for? ❜ ❛ say no more, i know tat i'm ready. ❜ ❛ the blood on your hands is something you won't lose. ❜ ❛ is the price i pay endless pain? ❜ ❛ something feels off here, i see fire but there's no smoke. ❜ ❛ we should try to find a way no one ends up dead. ❜ ❛ why should we take when we could give? ❜ ❛ i see in your face, there's so much guilt inside your heart. ❜ ❛ have you forgotten the lessons i taught you? ❜
The Cyclops Saga ❛ it's almost too perfect, too god to be true. ❜ ❛ what gives you the right to deal a pain so deep? ❜ ❛ your life now is in my hand. ❜ ❛ remember them, we're the ones who carry on. ❜ ❛ what good would killing do when mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use? ❜ ❛ i am your darkest moment. ❜ ❛ i don't know where i went wrong but i warned ya', and you failed the test. ❜ ❛ that's just like you, why should i be surprised? ❜ ❛ unlike you, every time someone dies i'm left to deal with the strain. ❜ ❛ i'll remind you i saw you as a friend but now we're done. ❜
The Ocean Saga ❛ at this rate, we won't make it out alive. ❜ ❛ please don't tell me you're about to do what i think you'll do. ❜ ❛ yes, but how much longer til your luck runs out? ❜ ❛ you rely on wit, and people die on it. ❜ ❛ you're like the brother i could never do without. ❜ ❛ and suddenly you doubt that i could figure this out? ❜ ❛ keep your friends close and your enemies closer, never really know who you can trust. ❜ ❛ 'cause the end always justifies the means. ❜ ❛ do you know who i am? ❜ ❛ you are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great. ❜
The Circe Saga ❛ whatever you need to say can wait some more. ❜ ❛ there's no length i wouldn't go if it was you i had to save. ❜ ❛ wouldn't you like a taste of the power? ❜ ❛ don't thank me friend, you very well may die. ❜ ❛ did you do something to them? ❜ ❛ if you make one wrong move, then you're done for. ❜ ❛ you and i are now evenly matched. ❜ ❛ you've given me no reason to bestow you with my trust. ❜ ❛ who's to say, with the mistakes i've made that they will be the last mistakes i ever make? ❜ ❛ this is the price we pay to love. ❜
The Underworld Saga ❛ all i hear are screams, every time i dare to close my eyes. ❜ ❛ i no longer dream, only nigtmares of those who've died. ❜ ❛ when does a man become a monster? ❜ ❛ now you tell us our effort's are for nothing? ❜ ❛ how has everything been turned against us? ❜ ❛ do i need to change? ❜ ❛ i'm the only one whose line i haven't crossed. ❜ ❛ what if i'm the problem that's been hiding all along? ❜ ❛ what if i've been far too kind to foes but a monster to ourselves? ❜ ❛ if i became the monster and threw that guilt away would that make us stronger? ❜
The Thunder Saga ❛ you wouldn't have spared me. i made a mistake like this, it almost cost my life. ❜ ❛ i've got a secret i can no longer keep. ❜ ❛ you know that we are the same. ❜ ❛ we must do what it takes to survive. ❜ ❛ tell me you did not know that would happen. ❜ ❛ if you want all the power, you must carry all the blame. ❜ ❛ how are we supposed to trust you now? ❜ ❛ how much longer must i suffer now? ❜ ❛ someone's gotta die today and you have got the final say. ❜ ❛ please don't make me do this. ❜
The Wisdom Saga ❛ you've made your worst mistake here. ❜ ❛ this cruel world doesn't give out presents just for being good. ❜ ❛ you're my friend, i couldn't ask for more. ❜ ❛ did you know you talk in your sleep? ❜ ❛ i'm what you want here, i'm what you need here. ❜ ❛ you don't know what i've gone through. ❜ ❛ i know your life's been hard, i'll stay inside your heart. ❜ ❛ life would be so much worse if you had died. ❜ ❛ you dare to defy me, to make me feel shame? ❜ ❛ no one beats me, no one wins my game. ❜
#rp meme#rp memes#rp prompts#roleplay meme#lyric sentence starters#sentence starters#musical sentence starters#rph#type: meme
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Don’t They Know a Rabbit Can’t Cry pt.2
Synopsis: the road is long and winding. You've been through so much. but the hardest thing to deal with is the newest revelation from Lilia.
Pairing: rio vidal x fem!reader, agatha harkness x fem!reader x rio vidal
words: 3.3k+
A/N - gave up on trying to make this something i couldn’t. It ended up focusing on the readers relationship with Rio sort of separate from Agatha. Sorry if that's not what you' expected
WARNINGS- swearing, descriptions of blood and injuries/pain
PREV //
The vibrant orangey-red sky and comforting embrace do little to distract from the stinging bubbling across your palm. It hurts something fierce. Red hot and wet. You keep your hand in a tight fist; blood bubbling beneath. It tickles a little as droplets spill down your wrist and onto the fabric of your clothes. Agatha sits behind you with her legs on either side, cradling you like one would an injured child. Soft voice in your ear an attempt to encourage you to show your injury. You stay curled into yourself. Shunning her pleas. It was just a scratch. It would heal in time. The other woman didn't need to fret about you any more than she already did. You hear another voice before you notice them. Rio must have returned from her trip. A few words were shared with Agatha before her attention was diverted to you.
"show me,"a temperate request.
"no," you urge. Twisting more into Agatha's embrace. Her grasp tightens slightly. Rio merely sighs before snatching your wrist and tugging your arm out. Your brow furrows.A tiny grunt of discomfort. She pries your fingers apart with ease, revealing the gash across your palm.
"How?" she catches your gaze but you don't answer so her eyes flicker to Agatha an instant later.
"accident in the woods."
"Can you not speak?" rio questions, fingers a smidge tighter around your arm.
"Can you let go?" you shoot back, attempting to pull away but she holds on tight.
"you must be more careful," Rio leans down, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your palm "My love."
"you needn't worry," you express as she eventually releases your hand. A faint red scar that would go away in time. "I am fine."
"for now," Rio shows a smile. Tiny and gentle. Easy to miss. She cups your face and you instinctively lean into her touch; thumb brushing over your cheek. "does it feel better?" said warmly. You nod. "I am glad."
"This is why you should listen," Agatha scolds
"you know, should you need you can just call for me?"
"I do not wish to bother you." you express, a touch warmer. Softened by the soothed hand.
"it matters not when it is you," Rio murmurs. A brighter smile.
"and it is me who is too soft?" Agatha scoffs. "hardly,"
"This is different," a hand held out as she stood. "it's getting late. We should go inside before you catch your death."
"a little cold never hurt me." you accept her hand allowing the help up. "Agatha and I finished making jam earlier, you should try some."
"you made jam just for me?"
"it was not made for you," Agatha comments following behind the two of you. "you just happened to return."
The end was so close you could almost taste it. The bitter taste of death. It's not that your wish was to die right at the end but to rid yourself of the burden of immortality; and live a life that would one day end for that was what made it worth living in the first place. Hundreds of years of a life that should have ceased years ago. You would also be rid of Agatha and Rio. No longer a spare moment interrupted by their presence. Agatha Harkness who grew more unbearable to be around the further you travelled the road. And Rio Vidal… a green witch you used to know. Maybe Lilia had been lying. There was no way to fact-check now. There are but three others left. Agatha, Jen and Billy. You have no idea where they are. Agatha had basically charged out of the last trial. Jen and Billy were a mystery. You had wandered in search of respite. Searing pain encases your arm; a trail of blood droplets leading towards a tree. You tumble against it. Breathing through the overwhelming sensation.
"whatcha doin'?" such a playful tone could only belong to one witch. Rio. Too focused on yourself you hadn't even noticed her presence but now the slight chill in the air was beginning to shiver up your spine. Her magic always felt a little overwhelming. She possessed a great deal.
"where have you been?" words harsh as your eyes search for her. A shadowy figure across the way leaning against a tree. A pit begins to form in your stomach "Rio?"
"working," eventually answered. Working. Even back then it was always her reason for taking days away. You never really challenged it. You had no reason to. And Rio never seemed interested in explaining what she got up to. "where are the others?"
You dare a shrug. The fire spreads in response. You swallow a groan as best you can but it is much harder to hide your face. You had never been exceptionally good at that. "somewhere up ahead. Listen closely and you'll probably hear Agatha yelling," An attempt at a joke but your heart is hardly in it. You takea resounding breath and let your head tumble back against the bark. Seems like you spend a lot of time amongst the trees. Rio used to say it was important to foster a good relationship with nature. It's what sustains all living things. She was a green witch though so her connection in particular probably made her biased. You always enjoyed exploring with Rio. Many hours spent in grassy fields or harvesting fruit for sweet treats and whatnot. "I just…"
"you're hurt," a knife between fingers twinkles in the moonlight. "and Agatha just left you?"
You never wish to defend Agatha Harkness of all people but in her defence, she wasn't aware of your injury. None of them were. A rogue sword managed to catch you before you could jump out of the way. You would be fine. It wasn't a devastating blow. Just grazed the skin all the way down your arm. Probably looked worse than it was. "nothing new then."
A bark of laughter that quickly settles from the green witch. "she was practically sobbing when that boy got hurt," pushing herself up, she starts stalking towards you. "guess we know where her priorities lie," you swallow hard. Guess we do. While you had made it rather clear you wanted nothing to do with her. Rio bringing up her reaction to Billy did pull at your stomach a little. Once cared so much. Now cared so little. It wasn't like you were hiding your injury well if Rio's quick evaluation was anything to go by. One momentary glance away from the other witch and she was suddenly towering over you. "shame," she crouches down to your level, hooking her index finger under your chin and lifting ever so slightly. "to leave such a pretty thing behind," heat floods your cheeks, making you feel a different kind of warmth. She was playing to your softer side. The vulnerability of being injured. A cunning fox playing with her food. You wait for the enviable moment she switches. Often her treats were paired with tricks. A hand around your throat. A knife in your back. Disappearing one night without a trace. But she doesn't. "let me kiss it better."
Rio was an extraordinarily healer. No need for spells or chants she preferred physical contact. In the past, it was often a kiss; much like the famous saying. You'd witnessed her lick Agatha a few times to dispel her injuries.
"no, it's fine," your free arm shoves her away. "get off me."
Entirely unfazed.A slight chuckle. "still mad?"
"fuck you."
"guess so," the corner of her lips quirk up into an almost missable smirk. "it'll only take a second," a furrowed brow is met with a viper fast root vine that slithers around your wrist and yanks your arm out on display. An audible groan dragged from your lips. Eyes scrunch up as tears begin to swell.
"what the hell?" typical Rio. "don't lick me."
A threat rather than a statement. You know her games. The attempts to rile you up. A roll of her eyes. She crosses her legs as she sits down opposite you. The tip of her thumb swipes over her tongue before cold fingers wrap around your arm. You watch her gradual movements, applying pressure around the edge. "does that hurt?"
"you know it does." you grit your teeth. Willing yourself not to cry. She didn't deserve it. She presses even harder. Pain pricking around her fingertips. You squirm but it only makes your arm burn and her grip tighten. "Rio," voice low. A little whiny. Begging for something; her to let go or heal it, you're not sure. "please," her thumb drifts slowly. Collecting blood and leaving a faint scar in its path as the stinging sensation begins to fade. A few stray tears manage to fall your cheeks. The green witch pops her blood-soaked thumb into her mouth. Holding your gaze a satisfied smirk grew. A low hum. the delicious taste of your suffering.
"just like old times," muttered quietly. She sounds almost timid. Perhaps a response to reminiscing on the past or she knew the reaction she would get bringing it up. If you didn't know her well enough, you'd think she was fond of your time together.
"Can you… let me go now?" the vine tightens before slipping away. You run your fingers over the scar, stretching your wrist out. It was feeling a lot better. Rio watches you carefully. No attempt to get up. You make no attempt to push her away. Softened by a soothed arm. She reaches out once more. Hesitating as if giving you a chance to stop her before she wipes away the remnants of your tears.
"better?"
You nod a little and her hand lowers. "thanks."
"this game you're playing ends soon. Do you think you'll get what you want?"
"why wouldn't I?" you query.
Rio's hands maneuver across the dirt around her in smooth steady motions. "nothing feels…" a handful of dirt brought up between the two of you before pouring to the ground. "off to you?"
Your eyes narrow in contemplation. Does anything feel off? Nothing felt normal. You were on a magical road. The Witches Road. The stuff of legends. "should it?" a soft sigh falls past Rio's lips.
"you may think you've changed- almost convinced me with that whole tough girl act" She shakes her head. Almost like she's disappointed. "but you're still that same girl." she expresses. No venom in her words. Hardly an emotion at all. "naïve. Trusting. I could say the world was ending and you'd probably believe me."
"I'm not," you try to sound as firm as possible. Fingertips going back to your arm. "I wouldn't believe a word that comes out of your mouth."
A chuckle. "and yet you believe this road is the answer to all your problems."
"Agatha is the one who asked me to come,"
"and you just believed her?"
"She is the only known survivor," many witches attempt the road. That much you knew. Nobody ever comes back. It wasn't that you believed Agatha. She was on some misguided trip for power. It was more an act of desperation.
"notorious liar and serial killer Agatha Harkness."
"you need a coven for the road and I-" you continue but she's not listening.
"hid behind dark magic."
"Rio,"
"the woman who abandoned you-"
"Rio. stop it," you state loudly.
"I'm not doing anything," she shrugs. "just speaking the truth."
"I know what she did- what you did," you huff. Your eyes flicker down to the small pile of dirt Rio made. You reach for it. Rolling pieces of the road between your fingers. It felt rough. Sharp. Real. that sword that sliced your arm. The blood that spilled. It was real. "I need this- I need the road to be something." you drop it back down. smoothing it around the ground with your hand. It had been a long road. It was hard being here. Seeing them again. Sharon. Alice. Lilia. You hardly knew them but they didn't deserve to die. This couldn't have been for nothing. You needed to get to the end. To prove you weren't that stupid girl they thought you were. You needed the suffering to end. It had to be real. It just had to be. "I can't keep searching forever." your words hang heavy in the air.A despairing confession to the road.
"Why do you see immortality as a curse?" the other witch asks. Your eyes flicker up to find her staring at you. You feel hot under her gaze and quickly look away. "and not a blessing?"
A blessing? That was ludicrous. It brought you nothing but suffering. Endless life was no gift. How could it be? How could Rio of all people believe that after what Lilia said? Unless it wasn't true. "Rio."
"yeah?"
"why didn't you tell me?" or more so how could she not tell you? You had known her for centuries. And yet it was Lilia who revealed her true identity.
"tell you what?"
"Lilia said you're…"
"I'm…?"
"death," a whisper on the breeze. Death. Rio was death. Is death. Some living embodiment of a concept. It wasn't easy to comprehend. Your brain still didn't quite understand how it worked or if it was even true.
"What happened back there?"
"you'd know if you'd been there," a bitter tone. You don't know why. It just felt like one minute she was there and the next she vanished. Back then and even now on the road.
"do you think you would have handled it well if I had?"
You shrug. Who knows. Back then you navigated the world with an unchecked sense of naivety. You would never deny the girl you once were. You would have followed Agatha and Rio to the end of the world had they asked. They were everything. You truly used to believe they had your best interest at heart. It was stupid thinking back. To trust two predators so easily. there were plenty of red flags that you chose to ignore. You don't know how you would have reacted to the news. There was no way of knowing. You're not that girl anymore. "maybe."
"not even a little."
"you don't know that,"
"I do," her voice is forceful. No room for misinterpretation. "I really do."
"I don't get it," she reaches for your hand. Slow and cautious. You don't pull away. You let her have the moment. The original Green Witch was something you were familiar with. You had originally thought that just meant she was a really powerful witch which is still true but different. a cosmic entity. It's hard to understand a concept such as death having a physical form. Never mind one that looked so ordinary. Well, not ordinary but humanoid.
"you do get it, trust me" as she squeezes your hand. Presumably an attempt at reassurance. You pull away. Perhaps she was right. Maybe you just refused to accept that Rio was death. Maybe it was just too hard to understand. As you stare into captivating eyes you see a world that once was. Silk black hair spilling out from a spring green hood. Kissing wounds so minuscule just to save you some discomfort. The prettiest of flowers just so happened to appear on your strolls. Delicate locks embellished with perfect petals. Sure, she had never been the gentlest of souls. Not like Agatha who was always there to catch you when you fall. But Rio Vidal had her way of showing affection. How could someone like that possibly be death? "you're trying to apply human morality to death. But death is neither right nor wrong. Good nor bad. It simply is." it simply is. Death didn't discriminate. It wasn't fair or just. It simply is. Hated by so many. Sought after by others. Death wasn't good nor bad but Rio? Could her actions really be excused? If all the bad she did wasn't her doing then neither were those little moments of goodness. Was something like death even capable of feeling? "I am the natural order of all things."
"not me though," you say quietly. "does immortality not go against your natural order?" Rio's eyes flicker away but you reach for her face. Firm hands cupping cold skin. She always ran a little cold. Guess that made more sense now. You can tell she's surprised as you push her to face you. Force her attention to remain on the unnatural. "did Agatha know even back then?" rio nods against your hands. Of course, she did. Maybe that's why they ran off together. A serial killer and the embodiment of death. Quite the pair. "oh,"
"it's how we met actually- before you," that small pocket of anxiety sinks deeper at the mention of a time before you. To a relationship only they shared. You had your moments with each of them. But they had many more without you and that would always mean something. "death doesn't wait for you at the end of this stupid road. I've always been right behind you."
Anger settles but never gone. Your jaw tense. Nails digging into the back of her neck. She doesn't even flinch. There is some truth behind her words. You've been chasing death for as long as you care to remember. Searching for her in textbooks and scrolls. Bitter potions and fruitless spells. But in actual reality, you have known her all along. It was funny in its own way. Ridiculous. Even now as you hold them in your hand, it's still hard to understand. Your mind races with questions. So you merely sink into death. Wrapping your arms around her as you bury your face in the crook of her neck. Inhaling the familiar earthy scent and dewy undertones. It's a second or two before her arms wrap around you and her body relaxes. Her grip is fierce; bruising even like she's been waiting for this instant. Fearful you'll slip away again if she lets go. It's a comfort in a way. Terrifying in another.
"you're not mad anymore?" you very much still were. There had been no apology. Barely an explanation. That flame still burned inside. This wasn't forgiveness by any means. You were just overcome. Tears threatening to spill as you cling to her. Allowing your emotions to wash over yourself. It's strange. It's confusing. It's Rio. She's never held you with so much urgency. So much sentiment.
"te he extrañado," a painfully tight squeeze that gives you a point of hesitation. An admission you never predicted. Not now. There's a twist in your stomach. A tug at your heart. A deep inhale of death. It makes no sense and yet so much. Possibly a joke. Some sick game she was playing. How was the embodiment of death was somehow capable of missing you and yet…
"I miss you too," confessed against the skin of her neck. Her grip falters and you take the opportunity to pull back. You come face to face with her once more. Offering a small almost sad smile. Rio looks to the ground and you follow. a single white daisy. She plucks it. Rolling the stem between her fingers as she looks to you once more. flower so lovingly placed behind your ear before rising to her feet.
"you should head back to the others," she insists, brushing herself off. "wouldn't want you to get lost out here," a sharp turn on her heel. You scramble to your feet as she begins walking away. Brow furrowing.
"Rio," you call out. She halts but doesn't turn your way. You know there's no point in chasing after her. "did you… do this to me?"
"do what?"
"curse me," she lets your query linger in the air for an uncomfortably long time.
"Maybe," she answers back. "run along now rabbit."
#rio vidal x reader#agatha harkness x rio vidal#agatha harkness x reader#agatha all along#rio vidal#agatha harkness
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Hi! If you're comfortable with it, could I request batfams reactions to a reader who's suddenly clingy on their period or something similar? Normally I like my personal space but I am desperate for some type of warmth because cramps are actually killing me 💔
Bruce would still keep his distance, as he knows you don’t like physical touch. However, he would still be around you more, always asking if you need something. Anything sweet? Any pads? Any source of warmth? He will provide it immediately and be very understanding to you lashing out (don’t worry, he knows you can’t control it).
"What is it? You need pain killers?" He rumages in the bag he brought with him and hands you some pain killers.
"Hm? Chocolate? Yes, right awa-...what? Oh, oreo chocolate...? Mh. Fine, I'll go get some."
Dick would be very cuddly, almost as though HE’S on the period. He would hug you and sometimes even carry you around, despite your complaints…
“PUT ME DOWN YOU OVERSIZED CIRCUS CLOWN”
“:(”
Would he put you down? Well, yes. However, only at the destination. Then, after putting you down, he would take a step back and remain at that distance for about 5 minutes. After that, he would hug you again. And so the cycle repeats.
It does annoy you a lot, however, he is COMPLETELY unbothered by your shouting and your complaining. Like, dude. Take a fucking hint, will you? Obviously, since he’s already there, he also provides you with whatever you need. This means: If you want him to leave while also making him think that he’s doing you a favour, go send him to do something like getting you food or spare clothes. He will happily skip off, thinking he’s gaining your favour.
Jason would be playing with fire, always bothering you with stupid requests.
“So, wanna come to the library with me? I wanna go read something, but I also want you to be there”
You grumble, clearly declining his request.
“Well? Yes or no?” He is not taking the hint.
“No.” You mutter.
“What? A little louder, please”, he leans in closer.
“I SAID NO. Leave me the fuck alone. I want nothing to do with you. Haven’t I made that clear? Are you too stupid to notice? Do I need to be more direct?”
“:d”
At that point, he gives up for his own safety.
Tim, the leech, uses this opportunity, almost viewing it as a blessing.
“Heyyyyy, I have a heating pouch and all your favourite snacks and drinks and your favourite show prepared. If you come over to my room, I’ll make sure that nobody enters beside you and me AND I’ll let you take up the whole bed while I sit on a chair. What do you say? Wanna come to my room? :)”
If you foolishly decide to reject his offer, he will work hard to come up with something more alluring. Tim doesn’t give up easily.
Damian remains professional. He would probably create a presentation highlighting why you should ask him for help during hard times and not his brothers.
“Sibling. I am able to provide you with anything you require. As you know, whatever I provide is better than what anyone else in this manor could provide, hence why you should only ask me for help. Additionally, I am not as pushy as the other rejects, so taking up my offers is most ideal for you too. My goal is to help you, while their goal is to be in your proximity. Compare our values and see which you are most satisfied with.”
Stephanie and Cassandra completely understand. Despite how hard the others try, the girls would naturally be of most help. They’ve been there, they just get it. They also don’t annoy you, so you spend most of your period by their side. They just aren’t as loud and pushy as the others.
Secret bonding moment unlocked.
With special permission from Bruce (which they got with a lot of yapping and convincing), they get a hotel room and stay there with you until your period is over. This is very refreshing, as you don’t have to deal with the boys anymore and finally have some peace.
Honestly, the manor is always full at all times, but now it’s just the 3 of you. You all bond and have fun while the rest misses you. No, seriously, prepare for lots of cuddles to make up for your lacking presence </3
#maybe barbara joins you too#rorii talks#dc comics#batfam#platonic yandere#x reader#platonic batfam#tim drake#yandere batfam#dick grayson#jason todd#yandere tim drake#dc#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#bruce wayne#yandere bruce wayne#yandere cassandra cain#cassandra cain#yandere stephanie brown#stephanie brown#damian wayne#yandere damian wayne
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phone calls
pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader
content: dom!abby, sub!reader, fingering (a receiving), cunnilingus (a receiving), praise, degrading, masturbation, punishments, abby on the phone while getting fucked, bratty!reader.
You love to push Abby’s boundaries and buttons, and behaving in a way that you know enrages Abby, forcing her to give you the attention that you crave. But sometimes, it backfires on you.
You’re kneeling between Abby’s thighs with your hands neatly folded in your lap and a large dildo buried deep inside of you. Abby gave you strict instructions to stay quiet and still while she worked. The only attention she has given you was a quick slap to the face when you tried protesting, other than that, she’s completely ignored you.
Normally, you’re well-behaved when Abby is punishing you, but you're desperate for Abby's attention. The urge to grind on the dildo and the slick that is leaking down your thighs isn’t helping either.
You glance up at Abby. Her brows are furrowed and she’s aggressively typing on her keyboard, obviously having to deal with some stupid man from her work.
“Fuckin’ Owen.” She mutters angrily, grabbing her phone and dialling a number. She raises the phone to her ear, her voice changing to a cheerful one once she’s picked up.
“Hey Owen, I’ve seen that you’ve…” Her words become background noise as an idea hits you.
You slide your hands up Abby’s muscular thighs, pushing them apart slightly. Abby glances down at you, giving you a warning glare. You innocently smile, your hands continuing their path towards her heat.
In this moment, you’re grateful for Abby deciding to only wear boxers as you’re able to easily slip them off her hips, giving you access to her. You suppress a whimper at the sight of her dripping cunt, apparently, she’s not the only one desperate for attention.
You brush your thumb against Abby’s throbbing clit, chuckling at how her hips jerked towards your hand, begging for more. Using your spare hand, you spread Abby’s thighs further apart. You drag your fingers through her slick before softly pushing them into her awaiting hole.
Her walls are immediately clamping around your fingers, and she throws her head back, covering her mouth to muffle a moan. Your soft moans follow hers as you start to grind on the dildo.
“You okay, Abby?” You hear Owen ask through the phone speaker.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just hit my toe on the table,” Abby lies, attempting to push your hand away from her.
Instead of pulling away from her, you wrap your arms around her thighs, dragging her closer to the edge of her seat, and wrapping your lips around her clit, sucking softly. You push your two fingers back into Abby, curling them to hit the spot that drives her insane.
“Fuck. Owen, I’m gonna need to call you back. Alice just knocked over one of my vases,” Abby hits the hang up button before he could protest.
You moan loudly into her cunt as she grabs onto your hair, pulling you further into her. The pleasure from the dildo and the pain from her pulling your hair forces you to the edge of your orgasm.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare cum,” Abby grunts, grinding her hips into your face, desperately wanting to reach her high.
You could decide to ignore her, but instead you mumble a quiet, “Yes, Abby.”
“God, you’re such a whore. Couldn’t even wait till I was off the phone before touchin’ me, huh?” Abby’s voice is surprising dominant compared to her whiney moans. “Couldn’t even follow simple instructions either, fuck, always gonna be my little brat, aren’t you?”
You hum, cherishing the way she struggles to keep up with your fingers as her orgasm approaches. Your moans become louder as you struggle to control your own orgasm, every bounce causes the dildo to rub against your g-spot.
“That’s it, baby. Doing such a good job fucking yourself like some pathetic slut. Fuck, look at the mess you’ve made, you’re dripping all over my floor.”
You feel your face heat up at Abby’s comment. You are absolutely soaked and now there’s a puddle of your slick between your thighs. If your face wasn’t buried between Abby’s thighs, you would be more embarrassed.
Suddenly, Abby’s thighs clamp around your head and her back arches. A loud pornographic moan leaves her lips as her orgasm washes over her. She quickly becomes overstimulated and pushes your head away.
You carefully pull your fingers out from Abby, wrapping your mouth around them and moaning at the taste of her.
“Taste s’ good, Abs,”
Abby hums, wrapping her arms around your waist and easily lifting you into her lap. You cry out in frustration as the dildo slips out of you, leaving you with an uncomfortable feeling of emptiness.
“Poor baby.” Abby coos, her fingers tracing around your clenching hole. “All stretched out and ready for my cock – if only you had behaved, though.”
Your mouth falls open in protest, “But, Abby- “
Abby delivers a sharp slap to your thigh, “Don’t complain. You should be thanking me for even allowing you to fuck yourself."
“Thank you for letting me fuck myself,” You mumble, embarrassment flooding your system.
Abby kisses your forehead, “Such good manners,”
You preen at her praise, assuming that she was about to let you off the hook. But you couldn’t be more wrong.
Abby wraps her arms around your thighs, easily picking you up and walking towards the bedroom. You try to ask her what she’s doing but she’s dead silent – not a good sign. You knew not to disturb her while she worked, especially when you’re being punished. Yet, you decided to be a brat and disturb her.
You thought that being stripped of her attention and being edged was enough of a punishment, but she obviously didn’t think so.
Abby throws you on the bed, forcing your thighs apart and positioning herself between them.
"Always gotta be a fuckin' brat while I'm working," You yelp as Abby's hand comes slapping down on your clit. "Bet you act like this so I can punish you, huh? Dirty girl."
"Abby, I-"
You choke on your words as Abby pushes three fingers into you. She curls them perfectly, forcing a pornographic moan to fall from your lips. She wraps her mouth around your clit, flicking her tongue mercilessly as her fingers pump vigorously into you.
"Oh my god," You whine, your back arching off the bed.
She suddenly pulls away, "You are not to cum unless I allow it, do you understand?" You nod, but that isn't enough for her. "Words, baby."
"Yes, Abby. I understand," You whimper, hoping that she goes back to what she was doing before.
Instead, she decides to tease you. Her wet fingers glide over your stomach, leaving wet marks in their tracks. She continues to slowly drag her fingers across your exposed skin until you're crying out for her.
"Please, Abby," You sob, tears welling in your eyes. You feel pathetic.
She chuckles before placing her mouth back over your heat and thrusting her fingers into you. You feel yourself getting close, faltering right on the line of that blissful pleasure. Your hands seek solace in her hair, tugging at her braid and hips grinding against her.
Then she stops.
The confused look on your face makes her laugh, "Did you really think I'd let you cum, brat?"
MUCH LOVE TO @abbyism TO HELPING ME FINISH THIS <33
#abby x you#abby x y/n#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson tlou2#abby tlou#abby anderson#abby the last of us#abby x reader#abby anderson x y/n#abby anderson x you#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x female reader#melposts
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YOURE WRITING IS LIT AMAZING OMG- I had an idea: Sukuna switching in and telling u yuji likes you (romanticly and sexually) and eventually switching back and the aftermath…. 🙏🙏🙏
forgive me for whatever i do. (yuji itadori x reader)
word count: 4.9k warnings: a teeny bit dark, angst, suggestive content, 18+ a/n: y'all, I think I kind of altered what the original vibe was meant to be for this request, but I am apparently physically incapable of not making a fic angsty, I'm SORRY. Also, this was a bit inspired by Remember You by Dominurmom, link if you wanna listen cause it makes me cry. I hope you all enjoy and please remember my requests are always open! 🥹🫶🏻
Friends. It was a good word— a safe word. It was one you had found solace in hiding behind for years. How could you dare risk the beautiful ebb and flow you had found within the days of while you’d experienced with your best friend? No matter the pools of warmth that engulfed your chest with each glittery-eyed smile-- no matter how the both of you had always found your way back to each other whether rain or sunshine-- no matter how much you loved Yuji Itadori. Friends; it was a safe space.
There was a time when you wanted something more. It was so early on, before you were too scared to lose him yet. When you two had first met, you felt undeniably pulled toward the bright-eyed and charismatic boy. Both of your lives had been overwhelmingly and newly hectic, what with your being thrust into a life of curses and sacrifice. Similarly, Yuji was still coping with the abrupt weight of managing the demon he now shared a body with. It was never the right time.
So, your timid glances and blushing compliments soon turned into confiding conversations and fierce loyalty. You two fell into the gentle and safe rhythm of a blossoming friendship. Of course, deep down within the confines of your cowardly hearts, you were always drawn to one another. There was always a hope, never communicated, that maybe once your lives found a peaceful medium, you two would no longer need to hide behind the solace of friends.
This certainly wasn’t how you wanted it to happen.
Yuji had always made it appoint to keep you and Sukuna at opposite ends of his world, in all senses of the phrase. He barely spoke of him to you at all, in fact. It was actually something you argued often with him about, worried about the impacts of keeping that kind of burden locked away would have on him. In typical Itadori fashion though, he wouldn’t even entertain the notion of an argument with you. No, he’d just squint his honey-brown eyes, and flash that bashful smile to you, a half-assed excuse about why it wasn’t that big of a deal falling easily from his lips.
The truth was though, it was a big deal to him-- a massive one, in fact. After having already witnessed what that counterpart of his could do, the havok it could ensue on those important to him-- nothing scared him more than the prospect of you coming face to face with Sukuna. Yuji felt this fear so much so that he spared you the details. He didn’t want you to think of him in such a way, to know that any part of him was capable of such atrocities. Yes, he’d bear it all if it meant none of it touched you.
So, when he felt his own body deteriorating rapidly in tandem with the whaling blows of cursed energy courtesy of the special grade the two of you had been cornered by, the thought flickered in the back of his head. Heaving out a pained groan, Yuji’s gaze found yours, and he pushed it back down. But you screamed. You screamed, and he couldn’t help you-- he couldn’t move. You screamed, and he was trapped beneath the concrete pillar that had fallen so unceremoniously over his heaving chest. You screamed, and suddenly, it was his only option.
“Sukuna!”
The King of Curses was not one for favors, especially not for the brat that held him hostage in what was meant to be his vessel. He assessed the situation before him-- the one he’d been watching intently from the safety of his own shrine. Through his insolent vessel’s eyes, he could only see you. It was all the brat would look at, you were all he ever looked at. Whether it be the back of your head, hair swaying gently as you’d turn to smile at him, and Sukuna would always feel the boy’s heart clench fouly at the sight. On some occasions, you’d be looking right at him, your eyes with stars behind them, and the demon wanted nothing more than to rip them right from their sockets simply for the way his vessel would tremble under your gaze.
Pathetic.
Maybe if the brat had been looking toward something else for once, they wouldn’t have been in this predicament. But he was racing toward you at every chance he got, taking blows that were meant for you, countering attacks that you had antagonized. He couldn’t understand how someone could be so weak.
So, he laughed. In the back of Itadori’s frenzied mind, Sukuna cackled at him. The boy whispered a plea, tears stinging his eyes as he watched you stumble to your feet in a grave attempt to escape the repeated blows being landed on you.
“Anything, I’ll do anything, please!”
The demon liked the sound of that. Yuji could feel the control slipping away from him, his consciousness being sucked up by the all consuming darkness lurking within. For just a moment, he fought against it, staring up at you in an almost drunken haze.
“I’m sorry. Please,” He called out to you, voice hoarse and morphing into one you didn’t recognize. “Just look away.”
In mere seconds, the boy you loved was shifting before your eyes. His features were sharpening; sinister, black marks pooling onto his skin like ink. The second set of eyes below his own snapped open, and they were looking right at you. Maybe, Sukuna thought, if he saw it for himself he’d understand, without the barrier of this boy’s soul in the way. Still, as he stared into your fearful eyes, he felt nothing but indifference-- no-- disgust.
Jagged chunks of concrete rubble sliced through the air around you, knocking into your already weak body, some even slicing through the special grade in front of you. Blinking back the dust that invaded your sight, when your eyes opened again, the curse was desecrated; an explosion of grotesque, purple evidence of what it once was.
Sukuna didn’t care to save you. What enticed him more for the approximate two minutes he had left in control of this body, was breaking down the brat a little. In all fairness, when you stood there so helplessly, so vulnerable with eyes full of fear before him, how could he resist? His impossibly sharp teeth flashed under the moon’s light as he stepped toward you, torn shirt hanging loosely off his shoulder and chest.
You wanted to apologize to Yuji, to tell him that you tried to look away like he’d asked. It wasn’t a fair request though. No, not when your best friend, the boy you loved, was being held hostage. You feared if you looked away he might do something awful to him-- unaware of what lurked in the dark chasm of his thusfar imprisoned mind.
“I’ve gotta say,” Sukuna’s gravelly voice reached your ears. It didn’t hold that playfully boyish cadence you had come to love. In its place was one that mocked you, laughing boisterously in the face of your trembling fear and anticipation of what he’d do next. “In the flesh, you’re pretty underwhelming.”
You gulped down the bile that threatened to rise from your stomach. Still crumpled on the ground from the last hit you’d taken, you weren’t sure if you should attempt to stand; unsure if he’d find that acceptable. Sukuna tilted his head at your silence, taking two slow and calculated steps forward.
“Disgusting.” He spat suddenly, gripping you by your elbow to haul you up. You yelped in surprise, trying not to shed the tears that welled in your eyes at the sting of his nails against your skin. “This brat spends day in and day out allowing himself to be consumed. And for this?”
Your brows furrowed at his words, and you pulled against his grip.
“Give him back.” You gritted through your teeth, fear igniting your body in tremors.
Sukuna’s red eyes, all four of them, lit up sinsiterly, grin widening in a manner that appeared painful. You realized for that split second that he likely didn’t have much time at all to wreak havoc, and he was enjoying this. He wanted to hurt you-- to hurt Yuji, even with the limited scope of his abilities at the moment.
“How romantic.” He cooed mockingly. His hand came up to grasp your jaw, forcing you to look into the eyes of your best friend, but he wasn’t there. Your stray tear betrayed you, slipping down your mangled cheek. Leaning forward with gusto, he licked a debauched stripe up the path your traitorous tear had taken, cackling madly as the salt tainted his tongue. Pushing you back a bit, his voice was suddenly booming, cracking at your abused eardrums with fervor. “All day!”
You tried to keep your face neutral, to be unwilling to give up the shred of dignity you had left-- for Yuji.
“All day this brat pines and trembles and burns with the thought of you-- pathetic!”
For a moment, you felt your heart stop at his words. Surely he wasn’t implying that Yuji, even in the slightest sense, saw past more than just your friendship. You knew you shouldn’t. It wasn’t him, but your lips were moving to a different rhythm than your mind was, and you were whispering to him in hushed bewilderment,
“What?”
“And you’re so stupidly oblivious, too? How revolting.” Despite his disgusted words, the baleful smile on his face grew that much wilder. It struck you then, how much you had disconnected yourself from the fact that the body before you, holding your body weight up with a deafening grip on your jaw, was Yuji. You didn’t see him. When you looked at that pink hair and felt the familiar curves of his hands, he wasn’t your best friend. “I suppose you’re not the only ignorant one. I can practically feel the way your weak little heart pounds everytime that brat looks at you.”
Your cheeks were burning at this point, and if he couldn’t see it in the dim moonlight, he could surely feel the heat under his mean fingers. Blinking away your tears, you willed your lip to stop trembling.
“He doesn’t know it, you know.” Sukuna chuckled, spurred on by your painful silence. “I spend all day having to listen to him whine about his unreciprocated, little love-sick infatuation.”
It was making your stomach churn, the way he was turning your feelings for one another, ones that you were only now becoming privy to, into something so revolting. The words falling from his lips were ones you prayed so long to hear. You had spent so many sleepless nights staring back at your best friend where he laid sprawled out on the other side of your bed, both of you too traumatized from the day’s monstrosities to sleep alone-- to leave each other. This isn’t how you wanted to find out though.
Amongst the desecration of your normal lives, you wanted to grasp onto the hope of innocence, of pure and untouched love and fondness. You hoped for bashful confessions and spontaneous kisses, ones that were purely Yuji’s intent. Sukuna was snatching the opportunity right from beneath you two, and he knew it.
You shook your head, or tried to with the grip that was forcing your gaze on him.
“My days are filled with his insolent whining, and I don’t find solace at night either.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think by the eager way he was spilling these thoughts out to you that he was happy to spend his fortitude in such a manner. You did know better though, and you knew what he enjoyed was the chance of domestic normalcy he was ripping away from the boy that held him hostage. “No, he touches himself at night.”
“Stop it.” You spat, unable to hold back the dam of your tears any longer. They spilled freely down your cheeks, and you swore you could see his red eyes roll into the back of his head. Your weak hands came up in a desperate attempt to shield your ears from the intimate secrets Yuji likely never intended for you to hear-- not like this anyway. The hand that held your jaw quickly fell, and he laced his fingers through yours mockingly, forcing you to listen.
“That brat thinks of you all night when he’s beating himself off like the degenerate he is. Sometimes he calls out your name too, when he--”
You couldn’t take it anymore, feeling as though you might throw up. Above all else, your heart ached for Yuji, and you wondered if he could hear what was going on, if he was clawing his way out. You wanted to apologize to him, tell him you never meant to find out this way. You wished you could forget.
“Yuji!”
Your cry made the demon smile, but it quickly faded with a knowing furrow of his brows. Eyes drooping lazily as he looked toward you, he shook his head. The marks on his face were slowly absorbing back into his skin. His upper lip curled in disgust.
“Pathetic.”
In an instant, he was falling to the floor limply, bringing you down with him. When you looked up in a frenzied haze at the head that fell onto your chest, you noted with relief that it was Yuji again. His eyes fluttered open deliriously, taking in his surroundings. Looking up, he was met by your grief-stricken expression, fresh tears clinging to your face. His freshly healed arms were pulling himself up clumsily, hovering over you in a way that made it obvious that fear was gripping at every nerve in his body.
“What— what did he do? Are you okay?”
It was Sukuna’s very intention, the manner in which you had no choice but to see Yuji so differently now. As he hovered over you, unintentionally entrapping you under his tensing arms and bare chest, you couldn’t help but blush as the curse’s words rang in your mind. The thought of the boy you’d dreamt about for so long thinking of you in such a way, touching himself to the thought of you, longing for you-- and he was right there within your reach.
“You… you don’t remember?” You whispered, trying to calm your racing heart.
Yuji quickly shook his head, his comforting brown eyes tracing down your body as if to assess the damages. When his hands molded around your waist to pull your shirt up, the one that was slowly flooding through with blood from the gash on your side, you gasped and flinched away. He gulped back his nausea at the racing thoughts of what Sukuna could have done to you to warrant such a response. His hands reeled back to his sides, and he sat back on his knees.
“I got pretty messed up back there… I think I was still healing.” he explained slowly, wanting so badly to help you, but unsure of how you viewed him now-- how scared you were of him. What he didn’t know was that you weren’t scared of him, not at all. In fact, you wanted to pull him in, hold him close, tell him that you’ve loved him all this time as well. It should have been an idyllic occasion. In the back of your mind though, you knew if Yuji hadn’t confessed to you himself already then there was likely a reason, and you shouldn’t force the decision onto him just because the curse residing in him ripped away the layers of protection that shrouded those feelings. “Please, I’m sorry. What did he do to you?”
He didn’t remember, and maybe it was better that way. At least one of you could be spared the humiliation. It took some time, but you had convinced Yuji that you were simply shaken up from the fight, though you felt he still wasn’t entirely convinced. His movements were painfully careful as he carried you to safety. It was so clear in the way he touched you with such delicacy, that he feared scaring you more than he thought he already had.
You stared up at the ceiling that night, tears clouding your vision as you toyed with the edge of the gauze that wrapped your abdomen. In all the time you two had known each other, you couldn’t wrap your head around why he was so scared of opening up to you about the monster he shared a body with. Countless nights you’d spent after missions, as he stared unblinkingly at a wall, begging him to confide in you. In just under five minutes with the thing though, you understood the cruelty he was trying to protect you from.
There was a soft knock on your door, and you lifted your head up as it slid open. Yuji stood tentatively at the entrance, looking like the absolute picture of health compared to your mangled self. He was scratching at the back of his head awkwardly, a little quirk you’d grown to love, much like everything else about him. Flashing you his attempt at a bashful smile, he tilted his head at you.
“Thought you could use some company.” He offered. It was somewhat of a routine of yours to meet together after a particularly grueling mission. The two of you would lay in bed, facing each other with moronic smiles on your lips as you talked about everything-- everything but the horrors you’d witnessed. It was the only way you could find yourself calm enough to fall asleep. If you two talked each other’s ears off about the comparable strength of two manga characters, or argued halfheartedly over what was the superior horror movie in your already trash-fire line up, if you distracted one another line by line-- the two of you would forget about what you saw. Just long enough to allow your eyes to forcefully drift in exhaustion.
Now though, as he stared undecisively at you, you could tell he wasn’t sure if he would still be allowed such privileges. Despite being lost in the labyrinth of your own mind over the night’s events-- over him-- you smiled softly for his sake and patted the spot beside you. Your breath hitched as he eagerly closed the door behind him and climbed into bed beside you. His sigh of relief fanned over the side of your face despite his attempt at concealing it. You felt his eyes on you, his body already on its side and facing you, awaiting for you to do the same.
“Oh, your side.” Yuji sighed in ackowledgement, and you simply nodded in agreement, not wanting to reveal that you simply couldn’t look him in the eyes without bursting on the spot. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as he reached out to softly graze his hand over the wounded area. The boy saw the way your breath hitched and your expression shifted, slowly retracting his hand. “Listen, I’m sorry for whatever happened back there. Please, look at me.”
A little piece of your heart broke off at the pained desperation in his tone. Blinking back the tears that threatened to form, you turned your head to the side to look in his wide, distraught eyes. Softening your gaze, you struggled against your pain as you forced yourself on your side to face him.
“No, Yuji, it’s okay--”
“No it’s not!” In an instant, he was sitting up, looking down at you as his chest heaved with purposeful breaths. “He’s taken everything from me, and I…”
His shoulders slumped, and a rosy tint rushed to his cheeks.
“I won’t let him take you too-- I can’t. So, please, just tell me what I have to do to make you not scared of me anymore, and I’ll do it, okay? I’ll do anything.”
Unable to take it anymore, you moved to sit up with a grunt. Yuji’s hands quickly shot out to help you until you were facing him. He looked back at you with such conviction, such longing in his gaze, and, with hindsight bias, you wondered how you never saw it sooner.
“You’re my best friend, Yuji… I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then why can’t you look me in the eyes?”
You pursed your lips, tentatively taking his hands into yours to hold them between you two. His breath hitched ever so slightly at the connection. Scraping your thumb over his knuckle absentmindedly in a manner that was scrambling his brain like eggs, you thought carefully on your next words.
“You don’t think anything could ruin our friendship… right?” You asked timidly, eyes meeting his through your lashes. His brows furrowed at your question, and he found himself leaning forward to gaze into you sincerely, shaking his head quickly.
“Nothing. Don’t you think we’ve been through too much together already? You’re kinda stuck with me.”
The hesitantly joking tone in his voice made you smile softly. Yuji had a way of easing your anxiety that way, as if there was a little door in your mind that only he had the key to open up and gaze into whenever he pleased. It gave you more confidence to continue your pursuit..
“And there aren’t any secrets between us? Nothing you’ve… not told me?”
Gulping thickly, he felt his face pale. There was something he was keeping from you, something he had come to terms with being content with if it meant he’d never put your relationship in jeopardy. An attempted smile broke into his face, but the corners of his lips were twitching anxiously. You could have melted at the sight.
“Uh… no. You know I tell you everything.” The lie stumbled from his lips unconvincingly. Your lips set into a firm line as you shot him a knowing yet playful look. Suddenly, his eyes were darting everywhere but you. They were at your hands, on your nose, on the ceiling, anywhere that would allow him to gather his thoughts. “Is this about the dent in your bathroom wall? Cause I promise I have a good explaination, a-and I was going to tell you, but you were already upset about the--”
“I love you.” It fell from your lips, permanent, unable to be drawn back in. In truth, the both of you could have died that night. Yuji was practically pinned under a building, and you had been face to face with the king of curses. The sentiment of either of you dying without having heard the depths of your feelings for one another was not lost on you. The lifestyles you led were perilous, self-sacrificing, and morbid. You already lived in fear that your next mission would be your last, and, as you were blanketed by the comfort brought upon by the proximity of the boy you loved so dearly, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel this type of fear too. Not for Yuji.
“Take it back.”
Okay, maybe his blunt order hurt more than the boulder that flew into your side earlier, but you still stood by what you said. A small, breathless gasp fell from your lips as you stared at his solemn expression.
“Oh,” you muttered out meekly, and, despite your burning embarrassment, you couldn’t tear your eyes from his. “I’m sorry, I just—”
“I wanted to say it to you first.” He reiterated, his lips pulled to the side in frustration, eyebrows furrowed as he regarded you. “I spent years thinking of what I wanted to say to you. Take it back.”
Relief flooded your system like a drug, flowing through your veins and relaxing your constricting muscles. In its place came a bashful flush at his words. Smiling softly in disbelief, you shook your head a bit.
“Okay,” you drew out slowly, watching him square his muscles back as if preparing for his line. “I take it back.”
Despite his previous determination and insistence that he had something profound to say, all he could do was lean forward to press his lips against yours clumsily. He couldn’t help himself, not with the way your twinkling eyes stared up at him expectantly, glimmering with an excitement he felt he was alone with for years. A muffled huff of surprise from you was swallowed right up by his eager lips as he lunged forward to deepen the connection he’d just forged.
“‘M sorry,” Yuji mumbled against your mouth, reaching up to grip at the side of your face as if you’d ever run from him. “Know I talked all that shit, but I forgot what I was gonna say. I love you. I just love you. I’ve always loved you.”
He didn’t allow you any room for a response because his desperate push against your lips had you leaning back to accommodate the sudden weight, and you fell back against your pillow. The boy eagerly chased you, crawling over your panting form to pour out all the soliloquies he longed to spill out to you with some semblance of eloquence, he wanted it all conveyed to you through his frenzied devouring of you.
Your mind was reeling with his sudden urgency, and you quickly came to the realization that the both of you had been living with this fear of passing one another up. Your hand snaked up to run along his chest, daring to explore up his neck and into the tufts of his pink hair. A soft moan of your name had you blushing profusely, suddenly remembering what Sukuna had told you about the extent of Yuji’s desires for you. You wondered if this was what he sounded like when he called out to you at night with his hands wrapped around himself. Squinting your eyes, you willed your imagination to take a quick u-turn, remembering that that wasn’t information Yuji had given up willingly.
“Say it back.” Yuji suddenly demanded, finally tearing away from his assault on your lips to stare down at you determinedly. “Say it again.”
Your free hand came up to cup his cheek. There was so much fear and guilt and sadness pent up in your chest at the prospect of what Sukuna had taken from him that night. It had never been like you to lie to him or keep things from him. As your thumb ran across his bottom lip lovingly, and he looked so accomplished, so content with how this night had somehow progressed in his favor, you realized that the curse hadn’t taken anything from him. Not when you were there to make sure that kind of hatred never touched him.
“I love you too, Yuji.”
His wide, boyish grin lit up the dim room. Swinging back down with fervor, the two of you laughed against each other as your teeth clashed messily. Humming contentedly, his wandering hands traveled down your side and snuck up your shirt. God, he’d dreamed of this for so long, and you were right there- underneath of him and pliable to his every touch. He knew he was getting ahead of himself, he could feel it in the way his boxers tightened uncomfortably against him, but he feared he may wake up at any second back in his dorm room alone, like he had so many times following his messianic dreams about what it may be like to have you.
As his fingers creeped up, you flinched against his fervent grasp that lit your wounded side ablaze. Yuji was suddenly reminded of the night’s events, and he cursed quietly before reluctantly pulling away from you. Looking down at your flushed cheeks and swollen lips, an unbrittled exhilaration swirled in his chest. There would be so many more nights with you, he would make sure of it. He leaned forward to press a last, longing and solemn kiss against your forehead-- a promise that you two would come back to this.
Carefully, he pulled his grasp away from your wounded side and settled down beside you. Unlike those countless nights the two of you shared a bed, Yuji laid snuggly against you, locking your knees under his strong legs. With his head propped up on his elbow, he beamed down at you, lovestruck as he affectionately tugged your shirt back down. As his fingers lingered against the protruding gauze, his expression creased a bit.
“You… you never told me what Sukuna did.”
Although he hated that he felt the need to ruin the moment with such dark thoughts, no amount of lust could have driven that fear from the back of his mind. Your smile faltered marginally at his words. Thinking of how excited he was to confess to you, and how ardently he fell into this new role so comfortably with you, exploring you with an innocence that was a stark contrast to the dark world you two traversed, you shook your head. Leaning up to press an assuring kiss to his cheek, you looked right at the slits under his eyes, as if daring the curse to acknowledge you.
“He didn’t do a damn thing.”
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#jjk fanfic#jjk fic#jjk x reader#jjk#yuji itadori x reader#yuji itadori#yuji imagine#itadori x reader#jjk itadori#itadori x you#itadori fluff#yuji itadori x you#yuji itadori x y/n#jujustsu kaisen x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#itadori yuji#yuji itadori x oc#itadori yuji x reader#itadori yuji x you#itadori yuuji#itadori yuji smut#yuji itadori smut#yuji itadori fluff#jjk yuji#jujutsu itadori#jjk yuuji#yuuji x reader#yuuji itadori
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Calling Her Phone [W.M]
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: You love to push Wanda's boundaries and buttons, and behaving in a way that you know enrages Wanda, forcing her to give you the attention that you crave. But sometimes, it backfires on you.
Content: Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, fingering (W receiving), cunnilingus (W receiving), praise, degrading, masturbation, punishments, Wanda on the phone while getting fucked, bratty!reader, mommy kink.
You’re kneeling between Wanda's thighs with your hands neatly folded in your lap and a large dildo buried deep inside of you. Wanda gave you strict instructions to stay quiet and still while she worked. The only attention she has given you was a quick slap to the face when you tried protesting, other than that, she’s completely ignored you.
Normally, you’re well-behaved when Wanda is punishing you, but you're desperate for Wanda's attention. The urge to grind on the dildo and the slick that is leaking down your thighs isn’t helping either.
You glance up at Wanda. Her brows are furrowed and she’s aggressively typing on her keyboard, obviously having to deal with some stupid man from her work.
“God, Tony.” She mutters angrily, grabbing her phone and dialling a number. She raises the phone to her ear, her voice changing to a cheerful one once she’s picked up.
“Hey Tony, I’ve seen that you’ve…” Her words become background noise as an idea hits you.
You slide your hands up Wanda's thighs, pushing them apart slightly. Wanda glances down at you, giving you a warning glare. You innocently smile, your hands continuing their path towards her heat.
At this moment, you’re grateful for Wanda deciding to only wear panties as you’re able to easily slip them off her hips, giving you access to her. You suppress a whimper at the sight of her dripping cunt, apparently, she’s not the only one desperate for attention.
You brush your thumb against Wanda's throbbing clit, chuckling at how her hips jerked towards your hand, begging for more. Using your spare hand, you spread Wanda's thighs further apart. You drag your fingers through her slick before softly pushing them into her awaiting hole.
Her walls are immediately clamping around your fingers, and she throws her head back, covering her mouth to muffle a moan. Your soft moans follow hers as you start to grind on the dildo.
“You okay, Wanda?” You hear Tony ask through the phone speaker.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just hit my toe on the table,” Wanda lies, attempting to push your hand away from her.
Instead of pulling away from her, you wrap your arms around her thighs, dragging her closer to the edge of her seat, and wrapping your lips around her clit, sucking softly. You push your two fingers back into Wanda, curling them to hit the spot that drives her insane.
“Fuck. Tony, I’m gonna need to call you back.” Wanda hits the end call button before he can protest.
You moan loudly into her cunt as she grabs onto your hair, pulling you further into her. The pleasure from the dildo and the pain from her pulling your hair forces you to the edge of your orgasm.
“Don’t you dare cum, slut.” Wanda grunts, grinding her hips into your face, desperately wanting to reach her high.
You could decide to ignore her, but instead, you mumble, “Yes, mommy.”
“God, you’re such a whore. Couldn’t even wait till I was off the phone before touching me?” Wanda's voice is surprisingly dominant compared to her whiney moans. “Couldn’t even follow simple instructions either, fuck, always gonna be my little brat, aren’t you?”
You hum, cherishing the way she struggles to keep up with your fingers as her orgasm approaches. Your moans become louder as you struggle to control your own orgasm, every bounce causes the dildo to rub against your g-spot.
“That’s it, baby. Doing such a good job fucking yourself like some pathetic slut. Fuck, look at the mess you’ve made, you’re dripping all over my floor.”
You feel your face heat up at Wanda's words. You are absolutely soaked and now there’s a puddle of your slick between your thighs. If your face wasn’t buried between Wanda's thighs, you would be more embarrassed.
Suddenly, Wanda's thighs clamp around your head and her back arches. A loud pornographic moan leaves her lips as her orgasm washes over her. She quickly becomes overstimulated and pushes your head away.
You carefully pull your fingers out from Wanda, wrapping your mouth around them and moaning at the taste of her.
“Taste s’ good, Wands,”
Wanda hums, wrapping her arms around your waist and easily lifting you into her lap. You cry out in frustration as the dildo slips out of you, leaving you with an uncomfortable feeling of emptiness.
“Poor baby.” Wanda coos, her fingers tracing around your clenching hole. “All stretched out and ready for my cock – if only you had behaved, though.”
Your mouth falls open in protest, “But, mommy- “
Wanda delivers a sharp slap to your thigh, “Don’t complain. You should be thanking me for even allowing you to fuck yourself."
“Thank you for letting me fuck myself,” You mumble, embarrassment flooding your system.
Wanda kisses your forehead, “Such good manners,”
You preen at her praise, assuming that she was about to let you off the hook. But you couldn’t be more wrong.
Her fingertips suddenly are encased in red wisps, your body is lifted from her lap, and she stands, walking towards the bedroom. Her magic hovers you over the ground and forces you to follow her. You try to ask her what she’s doing but she’s dead silent – not a good sign. You knew not to disturb her while she worked, especially when you were punished. Yet, you decided to be a brat and disturb her.
You thought that being stripped of her attention and being edged was enough of a punishment, but she obviously didn’t think so.
Wanda's magic throws you on the bed, and she forces your thighs apart and positions herself between them.
"You always are a little brat while I'm working, aren't you?" You yelp as Wanda's hand comes slapping down on your clit. "Bet you act like this so I can punish you, huh? Dirty girl."
"Mommy, I-"
You choke on your words as Wanda pushes three fingers into you. She curls them perfectly, forcing a pornographic moan to fall from your lips. She wraps her mouth around your clit, flicking her tongue mercilessly as her fingers pump vigorously into you.
"Oh my god," You whine, your back arching off the bed.
She suddenly pulls away, "You are not to cum unless I allow it, do you understand?" You nod, but that isn't enough for her. "Words, baby."
"Yes, mommy. I understand," You whimper, hoping that she goes back to what she was doing before.
Instead, she decides to tease you. Her wet fingers glide over your stomach, leaving wet marks in their tracks. She continues to slowly drag her fingers across your exposed skin until you're crying out for her.
"Please, Wanda," You sob, tears welling in your eyes. You feel pathetic.
She chuckles before placing her mouth back over your heat and thrusting her fingers into you. You feel yourself getting close, faltering right on the line of that blissful pleasure. Your hands seek solace in her hair, tugging at her braid and hips grinding against her.
Then she stops.
The confused look on your face makes her laugh, "Did you really think I'd let you cum, brat?"
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x y/n#mommy wanda#wanda x you#wanda x reader#wanda x y/n#wanda maximoff#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch x you#scarlet witch x y/n#kayoposts#wanda maximoff imagine
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His Shadow pt.2 Azriel x Reader
a/n: all the feedback from the last fic is insane! I can’t even express the joy all of the comments bring me, the kind words mean so much!!! I'm so happy this concept is liked, I definitely want to explore more with it:)) I hope you enjoy!! <333
1.8k words
synopsis: azriel makes a deal with himself to get his shadows back
Warnings: angst, fluff
pt.1
He’d gotten so used to you being there, so comfortable with the shadows that always surrounded him.
Now that they were gone—now that you were gone—he was left with an inescapable feeling. Loss.
It felt like lead in his body. It twisted, and turned, weighing itself down on his ribs. Aching at every little thing he began to notice, the little things you did for him. The things he’d taken for granted.
He missed the way your darkness covered him like a protective blanket. Missed the ease it brought him. Without it, he felt bare.
He missed your voice, your whispers. If he closed his eyes and thought hard enough he could almost hear it. Almost. He’d never taken the time to memorize it. Never took the time to see beyond what was on the surface. Why hadn’t he?
How did he disregard you?
You, the first to show him compassion, apart from his own mother. You, who suffered with him in that cold keep, locked away. Unable to grow, to learn, to live.
You were there for him, with him.
How could he have overlooked you?
He holds on to your words, the idea that you would answer if he called brought him only a fraction of the comfort you gave him daily.
You weren’t really gone, he kept telling himself. He’d see you again.
When it was necessary.
No longer would you whisper a good morning to him when he woke, or a goodnight when he slept. No longer would you be there, just to be with him. Just to rest on his shoulders, or weave between his fingers.
He’d used you, like a tool. Like you were just another weapon in his arsenal.
The pain in his chest swelled, twinging as the image of misery on your breathtaking face invaded his mind. The awful things he’d said, the hateful accusation he’d made.
You cared so greatly for him, for so long, only to receive cruelty in return.
How had he ever thought your absence poetic?
Being away from him was a physical struggle. The need to be there for him, to comfort him, to apologize, and to express your faith in him was undying. You were surprised you’d lasted a full day.
No matter how he treated you, no matter how much it hurt, he’d always be everything.
Yet you kept hearing his words. ‘Are you jealous? Is that it?’ Kept seeing that angry glare he’d aimed at you, and how it melted away when you’d taken form. ‘Because I don’t give you enough attention?’
You kept remembering the change in his eyes, in the way he looked at you. Like he’d just then realized you had a mind of your own, that he didn’t have to think for you.
You’d thought it would make you happy. To have him really see you.
It didn’t.
You felt anger and sorrow. Angry you practically had to spell it out for him. Angry the most observant person in the Night Court, if not all of Prythian, had never spared you a second glance. Sad that you had to look like him to get his attention.
You'd given him every opportunity, you'd shown him your capacity for emotions countless times. He ignored it every single time. No, ignore wasn't right.
Ignorant.
Ignorant was the better word.
Perhaps it was your fault for expecting more of him.
In the beginning, his neglect hadn’t even mattered. You didn't realize he treated you any differently. That is until you saw him interact with Rhys and Cassian, and then eventually Mor and Amren.
With them, he was… still distant, closed off in a way. But he smiled, he laughed, he joked. He empathized with them, got angry for them, or sad, or happy. He loved them.
With you, it was just, find me this… bring me here… go listen to them… keep me hidden…
He never smiled at you.
It was your own fault for expecting him to think of you as anything other than a servant.
That’s what you are, right?
The need to grovel at his feet came back. You felt ridiculous. You lived to serve him. Without him you wouldn’t even have a life.
You were such a fool, living darkness throwing a fit over some hurt feelings.
He was the only reason you were able to feel anything at all. He gave you meaning. He was your purpose in life, not the other way around. He had no obligation to you, he didn't even have to call on you. The fact that he did was a gift in itself. Just like the pain you felt was a gift.
Without him, you’d just be a regular shadow.
That should be enough for you.
So when you heard his call, when you felt that irresistible tug on your soul, you answered.
You answered though you knew he had no reason for it. He wasn’t in danger, he didn’t want to go anywhere, didn’t need you to spy on anyone or find anything, he was just calling you.
You answered because no matter what you said, no matter how you felt, he would always be everything.
Azriel waits for you. Standing in the center of his room, shifting his balance from his right leg to his left.
He couldn’t keep his hands still, they ran through his hair, adjusted his shirt, got stuffed in his pockets only to leave them a moment later and rub at his neck. His arms cross in an effort to keep them still.
He was anxious, and restless, and nervous about messing up, but most of all he was angry at himself.
He wouldn’t be surprised if you ignored his call, even though you said you couldn’t. You’d probably found a way, after all he’s done he wouldn’t blame you.
It would hurt like hell, but he’d understand. Why would you bother giving him a second chance?
He’d never even asked you for a name.
Did you even have one? Do shadows need names? They obviously have a language, one he was able to speak and understand. Did you have a family? A people? Were you born or did you just appear one day?
These were all things he should’ve known already. Things he should’ve had the mind to be curious about.
He was too focused on himself and everyone else.
The lights dim, announcing your presence.
His arms uncross, falling at his sides. You really came.
Swirls of darkness slip into his room, slowly inching toward him. The way they move is lethargic. It makes him sick.
He speaks when you make it within a foot of him. Pushing past the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.”
The shadows stop. Gone was the mighty spymaster. All that remained was the boy who cried out to you on that cold night several centuries ago.
“I’m so sorry.” He repeats. “You don’t have to accept my apology. I don't want you to. I know I haven’t earned it. I just want you to know that If I could go back and change everything I would.” The words were nothing but the truth. He wished more than anything to go back and treat you right. To erase all the hurt he put you through.
His heart jumps when you continue toward him, slithering up his body, encasing him in your energy.
He feels you curl around his ear, and then he hears your voice. That airy tone reverberating through his head. A sound only he could hear. Only he could appreciate. One he hadn't until he knew what it was like to lose it.
“I forgive you.”
Azriel wanted to weep at those words. For you. For him. For what he’d done to the two of you. For what the two of you could’ve been if he’d just sacrificed a little of his time to be with you. Like you always had for him.
“No, you don’t,” He began, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
The lights flicker, once, twice, then he feels it. Your hand.
His gaze trails down to watch your smokey fingers lace with his. The feeling of your skin touching his had his heart racing for other reasons. Very different from the chill of your shadows.
He lets his hand curl around your own. Squeezing as he went on, hoping you could hear and feel every last drop of his sincerity. “I could apologize to you every day for the rest of our eternal lives and I still wouldn’t deserve it.”
You step in front of him, meeting his stare. The emotion it held stitched something back together inside of you, something that'd gotten torn apart years ago.
“I will do everything in my power to change that. I promise.” His thumb rubs circles on your hand. “I will spend the rest of my life proving that I am worthy of you. That you chose right.” He felt his body tingle with each word, the sensation traveling down his arms, his chest, and his back. Ink undoubtedly marking his skin with a visual reminder of the deal he’d just made with himself.
To strive to one day earn your forgiveness. Your loyalty.
You reach out a hand resting it on his face, so faintly it barely even touched him. Afraid you were overstepping.
He leans into it, covering it with his own, holding it there.
Your mind drifts back to when you met him.
His small voice, crying out for anyone.
The strength of the Gods couldn’t have kept you from him.
You didn’t choose wrong. You knew that. It didn't matter if he believed it or not.
“I swear it.” He vows, bringing you back to the present. His hazel eyes so intense, so sure, burning into your own. You couldn't help yourself.
You kissed him.
His lips connect with yours and everything stops. Everything fades away until it’s just you and him.
He knew he’d never stop chasing the feeling it gave him. Something so simple, so easy, like breathing or gravity. Something he couldn’t live without. Not now that he’d had a taste.
One of his hands land on your waist, pulling you closer. The other leaves your hand to find purchase on the back of your neck, angling your head to deepen the kiss.
It was euphoric, he wanted to get lost in it, in you.
You pull away when his tongue brushes over your bottom lip, needing a moment to breathe.
Your eyes remain shut for a moment, stuck in that feeling. When you finally pry them open you study his face, taking in every detail, committing every single bit to memory.
He's breathing heavily, scanning you with a hunger you’ve never seen before. Eyes darting all over your face, repeatedly drifting back to your lips as if he too was struggling with restraint.
Then he smiles. Pure elation on his beautiful face.
The sight was divine.
You copied the action, smiling wide. You didn’t care if it looked or felt unnatural. You were just happy.
Happy to be his shadow.
taglist <33: @sidthedollface2 @mischiefmanagers @theravenphoenix26 @leeknows-wife @fxckmiup
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angry italian | a.h x fem!reader
ꨄ requested: anonymous
ꨄ genre: angst + fluff
ꨄ summary: after getting shot in the stomach, aaron can't help but become emotional and rossi can't help but notice which leads him to discovering your relationship with him.
a loud shot ringing through the air combined with your blood curling scream caught everyone's attention. you hunched over in pain while holding your side, blood spilling from between your fingers. aaron was the first to get to you, shoving past rossi and everyone else who was in his way. the unsub had taken the chance to run while all the attention was on you but when morgan noticed he took off running after him, only after sparing you a second glance.
"y/n! no, no, no, no, keep your eyes open, please." he lays you down on the ground and replaces your hands with his because his hands are bigger than yours, they cover more area.
rossi came over to announce that the medics were on their way and to hold you, only to get confused when he saw aaron already holding you. choosing to ignore what he saw, rossi kneeled down beside you and placed his hand on your hair.
you managed to blink away the tears in order to look up at him, you let go of aaron's hand and reached for his. "dad, i- i'm sorry. i'm so sorry." you sobbed.
"don't apologize, it's not your fault." he made sure to place a kiss to your head before standing up and letting the medics in. he started to turn around but stopped when he noticed that aaron was still holding onto you. "hotch? she needs to get to the hospital!"
aaron looked back at rossi before looking at you, he ran his hand over your face before letting the medic take over holding your wound.
"i'm right behind you, okay?" aaron squeezed your hand and stepped back so they could wheel you off into the ambulance. he stood there until he couldn't see you anymore. despite the anger bubbling in rossi's chest, he tossed aaron the keys and let him drive them to the hospital.
+++
rossi went in the see you first since he's family while aaron paced back and forth in the waiting room. he was continuously checking his watch to see how long rossi had been in your room.
"aaron." rossi put his hands in his pockets and walked further into the waiting room. "you can see her now but don't be too long, she needs rest and we need to talk."
aaron hardly let him get the last part out before he was rushing out to your room, rossi shook his head and took a seat on the bench.
when you heard the door open you pushed your head into the pillow the best you could, thinking it was your dad coming back to lecture you on your relationship with aaron.
"sweetheart?" you couldn't turn your head fast enough to look at him. aaron sat down on the chair beside your bed and reached for your hand. "how are you? are you in any pain, i can get the nurse?"
"aside from my dad lecturing me about our relationship, i think i'm okay." you squeezed his hand, lightly laughing at the look on his face. "don't look surprised, he'll get over it."
aaron shook his head and leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips, you moved your arm to rest over his shoulder and push your fingers through his hair. you pulled away and looked over your shoulder as if you could sense your dad staring daggers through the glass at you both.
"you should go deal with that." you chuckled. aaron sighed and stood up, he made sure to check that you were okay before heading out into the hallway to speak with rossi. he barely got the door closed behind him before rossi was biting his head off. "she's my daughter for gods sake, aaron!"
all you could do was laugh as you listened to your dad switch from english to italian with every other sentence he spoke.
#golden1u5t#myrarants#criminal minds fandom#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x fem!reader fluff#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader angst#aaron hotchner x you
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Don't be brash. Don't be flashy. And don't show off.
That's what Price explicitly told soap before he went in. It was a crude operation. An illegal cage fight organization that was a front for making off the books deals. They had been monitoring an HVT for months, he comes around for one night every couple weeks. Intel says he's supposed to be here tonight.
And now soap's here. And it's been a long night. With more still ahead of him.
In the not so hindsight it wasn't so weird to send him in. He used to get into only too many fights before Ghost held his collar, and even more so before Price leashed him. He could spar Ghost on the mats for hours on end. So it was quite befitting to have him locked in a fight cage circling with beasts bigger than Ghost, and crowds louder than a circus.
As he circled a monster of a man broader than him, taller than him, meaner looking than him, he felt it almost reminiscent of the first time he met price. His hair too, longer than it should have been. Overconfident but with fire to spare. Only last time ended with a dislocated knee and fractured patella, and Price was telling him he'd take care of him if he could only pull his head out of his ass. And this time Price had let him off his leash as he sidestepped the blow that would have put him on the ground, and was swinging bloody fists into flesh. The bell dinged as his opponent fell.
His fists were bloody, his face was bleeding, his ribs were bruised, and sweat had his hair flopping on his forehead, but the crowd cheered louder as he leaned against the chains caging him in. And Ghost came up beside him as they cleaned his dome and went in search of another contestant.
"Price and Gaz have eyes on the HVT. How much you got left in you?" He didn't flinch when Ghost came up from his blindspot.
"How long do you need?" He muttered, not looking at the man.
"Make it an hour and I give you a reward. Hour and a half and I'll make it better."
Oh?
How soap did love a good treat.
"Break a glass when you want me to throw." It would pain him deep in his soul to throw the match, but probably not as much as the blow to take him out.
---
He had no idea how long I'd been, he'd stopped keeping track a long time ago. Stopped noticing faces. But he must've pummled half a dozen men, at some point between talking to Ghost and they following fight, he'd accrued a group of challengers.
He was facing a big bloke, but hardly the biggest. Long since had the burn set into his muscles, but adrenaline dulled his aches to the buzz of excitement.
A crash and a commotion outside the cage.
That's his cue. He threw a right hook, too it clow in the redraw. It was good contact, but hardly the best. His opponent feigned an obvious left and he compensated, but only just too slow. It rattled his brain, and disorientation made him too slow to block the blows to his ribs. He let himself go down after that.
The bell dinged, and he made no attempt to push the assists off him as they dragged him out of the cage.
Ghost took him under the shoulder, and helped him through the pulsing, dizzying crowd. People were touching him, screaming, slapping him on the back. He collected his spoils, but they needed to get out. They had the package, and he was going to crash soon.
His eye was starting to swell shut, blood smeared his face, his knuckles were split and ugly, his ribs, arms, legs were all turning with bruises. The adrenaline trickled from his system and the colors and sprains and breaks began to throb and ache. He let Ghost take more of his weight the further they got.
#everyone thank ear for giving me cage fighter soap thoughts#el rambles#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#ghostsoap#soapghost#call of duty#cod#cod mw2
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I still love you, I promise
pairings: ex!lovers; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia;
warnings: angst; sickness; ed; pregnancy;
"Do you need to sit down?” You hear a muffled voice as you feel your feet beginning to give up on you. "What- What do you mean I'm pregnant?” You ask with a shaky voice. You had a feeling that you were but now that your suspicions are confirmed, and you hear it out loud, you can't believe it. Don't want to believe it. You are denying it. "No, I can't-“ You choke on your words, trying to make sense of what you were going to do. You feel a sharp pain in your heart as you realize. He isn't here. He isn't yours. He is hers.
You realize you will have to raise the baby alone. His baby. You were forever going to have a reminder of him. Every time you'll look at the baby, all you'll see is him.
"What if I don't want the baby? Can't I do anything about it?" You blurt out without even thinking. But as soon as the words leave your mouth you regret ever saying them. “I'm afraid you can't. You are already three months and a half in. Your boy is developing.” You freeze in your spot. "What do you mean boy?” “You are having a baby boy, congratulations!” She gives you a warm smile but you feel your stomach drop. A boy. You were having a boy. 'What will Rafe say when he finds out? Should I tell him?' You were deep in your thoughts when you heard the doctor talk to you again. “That'll be all. We'll schedule an appointment to check on him but we'll do that later on the phone.” “Thank you.”
You made your way towards your car as you stood frozen in your seat. You'll be all alone, raising your baby, while he plays happy couple with Sofia. You took a shaky breath as you pulled out of the parking lot, driving to your house.
When you got there you quickly made your way inside, seeing all of them displayed on the couch. The sound of the door closing made them all look towards where you stood. “Where have you been? Do you know how concerned we were?” Topper yells as he is quick to stand up from the couch. “I know, I'm sorry.” You mumble while fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. Sarah and Rafe spare a concerned glance to each other before they turn their attention back to you. “Sarah I need to talk to you. It's important." You say still fidgeting with the rings. "Yeah, 'course” She replies as she starts walking out of the room, following you.
“What happened? Are you okay?” But you don’t answer, instead you pull her in a hug as she remains confused but squeezes you hard as she reciprocates the hug. “I need to tell you something but you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone, especially not Rafe.” “I promise! What is it?” You take a shaky breath as you say the words out loud. “I’m- I’m pregnant.” You wipe away a single tear that escaped your eye. “WHAT?” She looked at you shocked and excited at the same time. “Shhh” You hush her because you don’t want the boys to find out. “I’m sorry. Is it Rafes?” She asks just to make sure. “Of course, who else’s would it be?” She nodded her head with an obvious expression on her face. “Yeah, yeah.”
“I don’t know what to do, I don’t- He isn’t even- How will I raise-“ You mutter between choked sobs as you panic. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, I’m here for you. You’ll be fine.” She tries to reassure you, but you can’t calm down. You sob into your hands as she pulls you in a hug. “It’s okay, let’s just eat something and we’ll sleep, yeah? We can deal with it tomorrow, okay?” She mumbles as she gives you gentle strokes on your back.
“Okay.” You let out a quiet response as you wipe around your eyes. “Do you want to order something? The boys already ordered when you were out. Or we can make something ourselves.” She gives you a light smile as you plop down on one of the chairs. “We can make some pasta if you want to.” You played with the necklace around your neck. “Yeah, sure, whatever you want.” She smiles as she puts a pot with water on the stove. You get up and take another pot where you can make the sauce in. You pour the sauce in the pan and add some seasonings to it.
After some time, the pasta is ready and you plate it. “Wow, this looks delicious! Ask the boys if they want some, while I wash the dishes, please!” You exit the kitchen and made your way towards the living room where you see the boys caught up in a game.
You clear your throat and all three heads snap towards you. “We made pasta. Want some?”
“Did you poison it, or why are you asking?” Topper raised a brow while snorting.
“No, but I’ll make sure to poison it next time, just for you.” You gave him a wink as you waited for an answer.
“Yeah, sure we’ll have some!”
“Come on then!”
You start walking to the kitchen with Top and Kelce in front of you and Rafe behind. You feel a hand on your wrist starting to pull you back.
“Why were you at the hospital?” He asks still holding your hand.
“I-“ You suddenly felt out of breath at the touch on your arm. You stare at his hand and back up at him, and he quickly lets go of you as if your touch was fire.
“Just had to check something.” You murmured, missing his soft hand on yours.
“Check what?”
Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to look for an answer, but couldn’t come up with anything.
He was still staring at you, waiting for a response.
“What’s going on here?” You hear Sarah’s voice interrupt the silence between you and him.
“Uh, nothing. We were just talking.”
“Okay, come eat! You haven’t eaten anything today! Come on!” She grabbed your hand, leading you to the kitchen where you saw Top and Kelce on their second plate already.
“Oh come on! Leave some for the rest of us.” You laughed as you sat on a chair next to Sarah.
You ate half of the food on your plate when Kelce got up to go and plate a third portion.
“Kelce, chill out man! Do they keep you starved?” Everyone laughed as he sat down with his plate.
“You are the best chef ever! I might come over every day if you are cooking.” He laughed.
After you all finished eating, Rafes phone was buzzing with a few texts from next to you.
He was putting the dishes in the dishwasher with Topper so you though it won’t hurt anyone to sneak a quick glance.
As you glance at the texts with pit in your stomach you start feeling sick. The smile from your previous jokes was replaced by a sad expression as you remained quiet, taking out your phone to scroll on instagram. When you noticed the boys finished with the dishes, and he was walking towards you, you got up from your seat to retreat to your room. You repeat the texts from her over and over in your head with a heavy heart. ‘hey baby’. They were calling each other baby. Yours and his nickname. Now you were truly sick. You rushed past them and upstairs to the bathroom gaining a few concerned looks from your friends.
“What was that?” One of the boys asked but it was silent.
Sarah followed you upstairs and Rafe went to check his phone. He saw a few texts from Sofia but he ignored them. He placed his phone back on the table and raised a brow at nothing in particular.
“What was that? She was fine like a minute ago.”
“I don’t know man, she must’ve seen something on your phone when it buzzed ‘cause she seemed happy like three minutes ago!”
You were fast asleep now with Sarah massaging your scalp while you dreamed of how easy things used to be when it was just you and him.
To be honest in your head it was Rafe that was massaging your scalp while you slept next to him, not Sarah.
“Look at this view! Rafe it’s beautiful!” You said as you admired the beauty surrounding you both.
The salty breeze of the ocean giving you goosebumps as it hugged your skin. The sand and the water colliding together like they were made for each other, while the sky was displaying gold rays of sun making the sand that was sticking to your skin radiate your features more.
“It really is beautiful!” He smiled softly while watching you with only love in his eyes.
This was the moment when he truly knew that you were the one for him. That he loves you.
“I love you!” He said with a genuine and soft voice.
You turned around shocked, unsure if what you hear really came out of his mouth. You were not expecting this.
“You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to kno-“ But before he was able to finish his sentence, your lips crashed onto his, hands going behind his neck, while you got closer on the picnic blanket.
When you pulled away you both were smiling like fools.
“I love you too!” You said without hesitation as he pulled you against his chest. You sat there in a comfortable silence, watching the sunset as you replayed his words over and over in your head with a grin on your face.
You looked over your shoulder again to see what he was doing, but he wasn’t there. You sat up panicked as you started to call out for him, but to no avail. He wasn’t answering.
You looked around desperately but al you could see was a bunch of sand, no track of Rafe.
“Rafe!” You called out again, and again.
“Rafe, where are you?”
“Rafe, please, this is not funny!”
“Rafe, please don’t leave me all alone!”
“Baby, please come back!”
a/n: Hey guys!!! Hope you like the chapter. This is PART 2 of my series IslyIp!! Please leave a feedback so I know if I should keep going and also if you have any requests please lmk!!
#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fic#rafe imagine#drew starkey obx#drew starkey
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SANCTUARY — SPENCER REID!
Spencer has a rough night.
spencer reid x gn!reader | 1.7k | hurt/comfort | book fayre !!
WARNINGS | spencer’s drug addiction, withdrawal descriptions, needles, track marks
part one.
main masterlist. | event masterlist.
a/n — thank you for the love 🫶🫶 (i accidentally deleted the ask but i had it screenshotted thank god)
When you offered Spencer the spare room in your apartment so he wouldn’t have to be alone during the worst of his withdrawals, he was so grateful he cried.
Now though, he was beginning to wonder if it was really all that good of an idea.
Spencer couldn’t help it, really. The drug cravings he was dealing with were intense. He would try and try, but nothing was working— not gum, not candy, not freezing cold showers or sleeping 18 straight hours.
It didn’t help that the withdrawal symptoms were getting worse. He was exhausted, his stomach was in tangles, headaches pounding incessantly behind his eyes.
It was getting harder and harder to resist each passing minute. As he desperately looked around your apartment for something, anything, to get the drug-induced itch out of the back of his mind, he decided he couldn’t do this anymore.
Desperate, Spencer slowly made his way to your room. He knew that you would probably be asleep, but he didn’t care. He slowly pushed open your door and crept into your room, trying not to trip over anything in the shrouded darkness shielding you from a disturbance to your slumber.
He gingerly sat down next to your sleeping form, gently shaking your shoulder to rouse you, and after a few moments, you slowly began to stir, slowly blinking your eyes open and looking up at the shadowed figure by your side.
You take a sharp breath in through your nose as you wake, blinking the sleep harshly from your eyes. “Spencer? Are you okay?”
At the sound of your tired voice, Spencer tensed up slightly. Even in the low light of the room, he could see the sleep-filled haze in your eyes, and a little guilt tugged in the back of his mind. But the need for his drug was too strong to care about minor things like that.
“No,” He whispered back bluntly.
You clear the sleep from your throat as you edge yourself upright, dragging your knuckles over your eyelids. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes traced the tired way you wiped your eyes, only furthering his guilt. But again, the craving and the need for his internal torture to stop overpowered that feeling.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Spencer stated almost desperately, avoiding eye contact with you.
You exhale slowly.
“Spencer,”
He still refused to look at you, staring at his own trembling hands and scratching at the inside of his elbow.
With each second that passed, the need for a needle in his skin only grew stronger, and it was starting to become hard to keep resisting the urge.
“Look at me,” You tapp the side of his chin with your finger, a gentle gesture for him to turn his gaze towards you.
He slowly raised his gaze to your face, and you could clearly see how exhausted he was. Dark bags hung heavily under his eyes from lack of sleep, and his body was wracked with tremors from the withdrawal symptoms.
Seeing your sympathetic expression, his guilt only increased. It was like you knew exactly what he was going to say, and he didn’t know if that scared or embarrassed him more.
“I-,“ He started, his voice wavering. “I need-“
“Spencer,” You shake your head at him softly. “No…”
For a moment, he wanted to be angry, to scream and demand you understand his situation. But as he took in the weary yet sympathetic look on your face, a wave of shame passed over him.
“Please,” He whispered hoarsely, “I can’t do this. It hurts too much.”
“I know it hurts,” You rub your hand carefully down the curve of Spencer’s neck, settling it on his shoulder. “I know,”
He clenched his eyelids shut as your fingers began to massage his shoulders. It was almost enough to make him relax a bit.
Almost.
But that craving, and the pain, still clawed at the back of his mind, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore them.
“I need it,” He choked out, opening his eyes to once again gaze at you pleadingly. “Please, I just- I need it,”
The more he talked, the more desperate he began to sound, and he knew how pathetic he must look.
There’s a small pause as your eyes flicker over his expression.
“You remember why I offered you to stay here don’t you?”
He nodded tiredly, his head hung low in shameful understanding. You were trying to help him, and here he was begging you to let him do the one thing you’ve been trying hard to help him not give in to.
“Come on,” You let your hand fall from Spencer’s shoulder onto his leg, squeezing at his hand as it lies on top of his thigh. “Come with me,”
You groan tiredly as you climb out of the comfort of your bed, and Spencer hesitantly lets you guide him out of your room.
When it finally registers that you’re taking him to the kitchen, a flicker of pathetic hope blossoms in his chest, only for it to be immediately squashed down under the loss of your contact and the opening of your freezer.
It’s an ice tray that you pull out, cracking the plastic harshly against the edge of your kitchen counter to free the ice cubes from their confines and plucking one between your fingers, gesturing towards him.
He glances down at the ice cube, not really understanding why you’re giving it to him. But when he sees your expression, it clicks for him, and his eyes widen. He knew how withdrawal and drug addiction worked, so this trick wasn’t new to him. He just didn’t think you would be willing to do this for him.
He warily held out his arm to you, and even in the dim light of the moon outside, you could see the faint track marks that scarred his arm.
If you’re deterred by them you don’t show it, and you press the ice cube carefully against the bruises, dragging it over the tender skin.
“Do you want tea?
He winced slightly as the cold ice cube touched his arm, the sensation familiar yet foreign. He slowly shook his head at your question, not trusting his voice to answer you.
He stared down at the ice cube with a mixture of relief and shame. He was so far gone, to the point where the feeling of frozen water on his skin helped to calm the incessant itch of drug withdrawal.
“Hot milk then,”
He glanced up at you from under his flattened curls, slightly confused.
Hot… milk?
He’s confused for a minute, then it clicks. Hot milk. To help him sleep. Like a child.
It was embarrassing, really, but right now he was too tired to care.
So, he slowly nodded to you, watching as you busied yourself making him the warm milk. He was torn between looking ashamed that he’d even considered shooting up to have the easy out, and being grateful that you were willing to help him so calmly.
“Keep the ice going, Spencer,”
He quickly obeyed your instruction, bringing the ice cube back down to his forearm and slowly rubbing it over the faint scarring. It wasn’t the best, but it was better than nothing, and the cold soothed his itchy skin.
He stayed quiet as you made the hot milk, watching you carefully add a little bit of honey to help sweeten the drink. He wasn’t sure why, but something about you being so calm and unbothered by this whole situation felt so… comforting.
After a few minutes, you returned to him, hot cup of honey milk in hand, and held it out to him. He couldn’t help but stare at it for a moment, a swirl of emotions playing through his tired mind. But he quickly squashed the swirling thoughts, taking the milk from your hands and slowly sipping the warm liquid.
“The change in temperature should shock your system,”
He hummed in acknowledgment as he took another sip of the warm milk, letting the heat of the beverage run down his throat.
He’s read about the method before, where suddenly increasing or decreasing the temperature of the body can help with withdrawal symptoms.
It was supposed to be paired with hot showers and ice baths, but he supposed ice cubes and hot milk worked too.
He quickly downed the rest of the milk, watching as you took the now-empty mug from his hands.
As the heat of the milk began to warm up his body, exhaustion really started to wash over him, and he could barely stop a yawn from escaping his lips.
He could see the slight upturn of your lips when you noticed he yawned, and felt the shame hit once again.
Here he was, a 24 year old man, and you were handling this situation like how someone would a child. But the tiredness made it impossible to care very much about how pathetic this all looked.
“Come on Spencer,” You press your hand gently between his shoulder blades, a prompt to get him moving. “Back to bed,”
His movements were sluggish as he let you steer him back towards the bedroom. It was like his body had suddenly hit a wall of exhaustion without warning.
“I’m sorry,” He murmured, stumbling slightly as you guided him into bed.
“Shhh, none of that, lie down,”
He tiredly did as you said, slumping down on the bed and letting his tired body sink into the sheets. As he closed his eyes, a wave of exhaustion washed over him, making it hard for him to think.
“Thank you,” He whispered quietly, his words a bit slurred by the sleep that was quickly catching up on him.
“That’s it, just rest now, Spencer,”
He mumbled incoherently as he nodded, already slipping into the haze of sleep. As he slowly drifted off, he faintly registered the feeling of your hand gently smoothing his hair from his face.
And just like that, he was asleep. His breath evened out into the deep pattern of his sleeping breaths, and he relaxed, not realising just how tired his body had become from the strain of his withdrawal.
#𝜗𝜚 book fayre。#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#mgg#spencer reid angst#criminal minds angst#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fluff
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any hc for male reader x yandere batfam?? any of them will work. also the batboy didn't know he was bi at first (unless you're doing Tim). and the reader is dealing with internalized homophobia?
somethin short n sweet :]
Soft! Older! Yandere! Damian Wayne / Male Reader
> romantic > tw/cw: internalized homophobia, references to violent homophobia > word count: 723 > a/n: just something short and sweet... > male reader can be cis or trans
"Study with me," is what Damian Wayne says, before placing a pile of books on your already-crowded table.
His clean cut appearance contrasts with the hipster, rustic interior of your favorite cafe. It’s not really his scene, as far as you’re aware. Both the decor and the abundant crowd.
You lean back in your chair, narrowing your eyes. "Wayne.” You have to try not to sneer.
You are acquainted with him, after all. His marks are always top of the class, and yours are always seconding. You’re at Gotham U entirely on scholarship, just having transferred from community college. You’re first in your family to go to college, period, and they were risking everything for you to be here. You had to be top of your class if you wanted to pursue your post-grad plans.
Always being second to this nepo-baby billionaire is a bitter knock to your self-esteem. You wince, feeling sharp pain on your ribcage. One you don’t need with all the other bitter knocks your classmates already give you.
You stare up at the man, wishing he hadn’t caught you in your seat. You blink, realizing that he isn't moving. "Wait, what did you say?" you ask.
“... I said, 'study with me.'" He elegantly lands in the seat across from you at the all-too-small table. "I’ll be sitting here.”
You gape at him.
“But– y-you don’t even like me…?” Damian had never spared you the time of day until … this day. You assumed you were a gnat to him at best. Just some brokie who managed to sneak his way into his school.
How utterly wrong you were.
Damian Wayne hadn’t expected to end up with anyone other than a woman, he supposed. It had been assumed of him during his childhood and he hadn’t questioned it. From a young age he had been aware of homosexuality, and that men could be attractive, but he hadn’t considered it for himself in any serious capacity.
Even Timothy coming out didn’t spur any curiosity from him. Despite his siblings teasing, his closeness to Jon was entirely platonic. So Damian just assumed, like the majority of the world, he was heterosexual. Until you had transferred into one of his classes and stole his breath away.
Damian’s eyes narrow and, if you can believe it, glimmer with interest. “I don’t recall ever saying that. For all you know, I could be quite fond of you.” His eyes lower to where your lips lie. “... Or at the very least, interested.”
You cheeks heat rise to your cheeks, before you flinch. There's no way. He didn’t mean it like that. Yet despite discerning his expression… Oh fuck, maybe he meant it like that? You panic, head snapping away from his. No– no. You are not going to be weird about this. You could have a friend here.
The last time you misinterpreted friendliness from your peers as romantic advances... Those bruises are still healing, still aching when you stretch and bend. Your stomach roils with hurt, fear, and betrayal – no. You weren’t going to repeat the same mistake this time. You’ve been ostracized from most of your peers by now. ‘Pervert’ and ‘predator’ they named you. But maybe… you could have a friend here.
In your silence, Damian finds tendrils of curiosity churning in his stomach. He wants desperately to talk to you. To hear you speak. To listen to you talk at length about the lectures he finds so droll, but you find rapturing. Test scores meant nothing. He may be better at memorizing the text, but he’s read your essays. He clears his throat, lifting his chin on instinct to feign confidence.
You look up at him shyly, before realizing you’ve been mulling in silence like a freak for the past few minutes. Damian doesn’t mind, having been able to openly admire you.
You cough, trying to ease the confusion thrumming in your veins. “... Well, fine. I could use a sounding board.”
“Shall we start with the next test review?” Damian offers, flipping open a book.
You perk up, having been about to suggest lighter reading rather than the dense, metaphysical chapters your professor recommended. You nod fervently, lips curling to Damian’s delight.
“Yes, please,” you say, metaphorical tag wagging.
New friend, new friend, you inwardly cheer.
Damian’s thoughts run considerably more romantic.
#yandere batfam#yandere damian wayne x reader#damian wayne x reader#yandere damian wayne#mine#maybe write a full fic on this someday i kinda like gay damian#maybe he deserves gay sex
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The Arrangement (12) - In the Beginning
Chapter summary: Astarion meets up with Ava and it triggers something deep within him.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Mention of masturbation. Dissociative episode. Bloodlust.
Word count: 4.8k
Series Masterlist . Ao3
He should have known this would happen eventually.
His love affair with the sun had reached an unavoidable end. Yet again. Luck had seldom ever been on his side, so this shouldn’t sting this much.
But it did.
His eyes darted to the half-moon window high up above through which scorching shafts of sunlight tore and lit up the dingy cellar.
Revulsion stirred within him and the flares of anger threatened to consume him whole.
The very same sun rays in which he had bathed for weeks were now a sore reminder of his true and inescapable nature.
He titled his head back against the wooden crate, his eyes fluttering shut in defeat as he sat on the cold floor.
Astarion had served his purpose and was now cast to live in the shadows once more, bound to his hunger and to all the inconveniences of being a vampire spawn.
The pain of being scorched by the sunlight had been revived in his mind after weeks of freely strolling around the Sword Coast in some impromptu quest to save Baldur’s Gate whilst having to deal with an inconvenient wriggling dweller inside his head.
But all the physical pain of being burnt mercilessly paled in comparison when his ears picked up approaching footsteps.
He knew who they belonged to.
The sound was carved into his mind like a dagger that wouldn’t budge.
You.
He winced as the squeaky door was pushed open.
“Astarion?”
He gritted his teeth, silently praying you’d simply walk away and leave him to his misery.
But his prayers had never been answered before, and that wasn’t about to change now, least of all when it concerned you.
In truth, he doubted any God above would be able to keep you from plaguing his thoughts.
“Astarion, I know you’re in here.”
Then leave.
He remained silent, eyes fluttered shut and an urge to be swallowed whole by the ground below.
Light and careful footsteps drew near and only came to a halt as a swift rush of air indicated to him that you were crouched in front of him.
Shit.
“Hello,” you said and he could hear the warm smile in your voice.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and he was sure that if he had a beating heart, it would most likely skip a few beats. Instead, he felt his stomach lurch as hunger simmered dangerously.
Your kind eyes met his and he craved nothing more than to have you be gone.
From all the afflictions he was yet again a slave to, you were by far the most painful one.
“Did you come here to mock me?” he spat, the poisonous words leaving his mouth before he could hold back.
Your eyes widened slightly. “Mock you? Astarion–”
But he cut you off like a knife through flesh. “Spare me – I saw the way they laughed as my skin crumbled to ashes. So if you’ve come here to have your share, you can just leave.”
He was being unfair and he didn’t need your wavering smile as proof.
After all your travels together and his unrequited feelings towards you, he couldn’t fight his arrogance from surfacing.
But you never gave up on him – through deceit and manipulation, you were unmoving and relentless in your loyalty to him.
“I’ll have you know that I scolded all of them for doing so,” you said firmly. “It was uncalled for, especially after everything we’ve been through together.”
His jaw clenched harder and his eyes narrowed.
Oh, he couldn’t stand it. That look on your face – pity. It immediately triggered a visceral reaction deep within him, and when he saw you reach out to him with your hand, he flinched away and recoiled against the crate behind him.
“Don’t touch me.”
Your hand immediately stilled before dropping to your knee, and he saw a glint of sadness cross your eyes.
It wasn’t disgust or anger that caused him to utter such words.
He just knew your touch would ruin him and that he’d allow it.
“We can find a way to solve this,” you tried again with newfound determination. “We will find a way.”
He scoffed, averting his gaze.
Unfortunately, the laws of the worlds didn’t bend to the whims of lesser beings without compromise.
And he soon realised what really bothered him was how vulnerable he felt – how exposed and weak he surely looked in your eyes.
Pathetic.
Useless.
Tainted.
Broken.
“Do you trust me?”
He remained silent.
“Do you?”
Your insistence gnawed at his nerves, causing him to lock eyes with you again.
“It goes beyond trust, darling. If walking in the sun again – or curing vampirism altogether – were that easy, I would not be here in the first place.”
Even through his snarky remark, you found a way to hold a smile and it immediately disarmed him. “Astarion, if there is anything our travels together have taught me is that we're quite good at turning the impossible into possible,” you said with conviction. “If there is a way to help you, we will find it.”
In another lifetime, he would have called you a foolish human who uttered big words without knowing their meaning.
But in this one, he did know you didn't extend promises lightly.
And if there was a sliver of hope he could cling to, he'd take it, especially now that Cazador was no longer around to compel him otherwise.
“Well, who's ‘we’, exactly?” he asked, easing himself against the crate.
Your face lightened up. “You and me, of course.”
The two of you. Just the two of you?
Oh, he liked the sound of that. Very, very much.
His jaw slacked as hope kindled inside him, soaring dangerously high.
“Well, and Wyll – he's offered to help.”
Said hope plummeted back to the ground, shattering.
He scowled with a click of his tongue. “Did he, now? How chivalrous of him.”
You nodded. “I'm sure the others will come around, too.”
Astarion supposed this was a decent prospect, but almost grimaced when you extended your hand to him.
“Deal?”
He wanted to believe your relationship with him surpassed a mere friendship value, but he had grown tired of hoping for more.
Still, he would greedily take anything you would offer him.
Whether it was an indication that you craved more than friendship, or a simple handshake.
As such, he took your hand in his, revelling in the familiar warmth. “We have a deal, darling.”
Once he entered The Blushing Mermaid, it was evident that the presence of six Flaming Fists was not welcome at all.
Bork immediately asked for only two to stay inside as they were beginning to frighten the clientele.
But, much to his convenience, he immediately found who he was looking for, sitting in the furthermost corner of the lounge area.
Ava.
The plan was simple: try to get a confession from her – if applicable – but they would still be bringing her in for questioning as Rob Sorel, her lover, awaited her with Wyll.
A measured smile spread across her face as she noticed the fists behind him.
He slithered to her table with determined steps, aware that there was a possibility that this conversation would lead nowhere.
He slowly took the seat across from her, casually placing his twin daggers on the chipped table.
Ava's eyes dropped momentarily before meeting his again. “Oh, Astarion. Offering a silent warning with poison-coated blades? You needn't do that with me.”
Astarion's lips twitched upwards in silence.
He knew this dance better than most. He could read others quite efficiently when it came to sudden shifts in body language, and he had noticed Ava sitting straighter and her saccharine smile wavering all of a sudden.
And he had her right where he wanted her.
“You can't be too careful. Isn't that what some say?” he said, absentmindedly drumming his fingers along the handle of one dagger.
She took a sip from her cup before tilting it. “I'd order one for you, but I know this isn't your drink of choice – unless you brought her along for a sip, that is.”
Her taunt was enough to set him ablaze and the tip of his blade was immediately carved into the wooden table, earning a jolt from her.
“You do not get to goad me with her,” he snarled, gripping the handle so fiercely he might snap it in half. “She is off limits and you were delusional to even think you could bring her into this without consequences.”
Suddenly, her face twisted into a hard scowl and whatever traces of sweetness vanished. “I would not do anything with her without talking to you first.”
“You still offered her a deal, thereby roping her into something she is not to be a part of,” he retorted. “Her blood is off limits. She is off limits.”
Ava leaned back with a roll of her eyes. “Is this a case of you not wanting to share? Not even if that could be beneficial to you?”
His grip loosened slightly as his brows furrowed. “What is your point?”
She took another sip. “Her blood mixed with yours could be beneficial to my experiment and, thus, to you and even that massive horde of spawn in the Underdark.”
Of course Ava would want to play her cards right to keep him around.
It was a temptimg prospect, and he would never consider it at your expense.
He was no fool and you were no bargaining chip.
“I could never ask that of her. She stays out of this.”
She forced a yawn. “Have you forgotten your arrangement with her? Her blood for your good behaviour? Or does all sense of reason rush to your cock when you feed on her?”
Ava's words slashed through the air and he was momentarily taken aback.
The nature of your arrangement with him was vastly different. It wasn’t as simple as him being kept in line like some obedient pup. He could have turned the offer away and live exclusively off boars and deers – much to his horror.
The difference was… well, you.
Your unwillingness to let him go.
Your blood.
Your insistence on helping him keep his mind clear by allowing him to freely feed on the blood of a thinking creature.
And not just any thinking creature.
You.
His first.
The only blood he craved to the point of madness.
“Though, I can tell you haven't fed in a couple of days,” she went on with a dramatic pout. “A lover's quarrel, hmm?”
Oh, she was vicious.
This was the same woman who had shared a bed with him to ease him coming to terms with intimacy. For the most part, her simply being naked by his side hadn't helped much, but it seemed enough, and he was desperate to overcome the prison that his mind had become.
However, this was also the same woman who slayed her kin without hesitation.
She could go from being as kind and sweet to holding a stake to his chest.
Astarion felt a sense of dread wash over him as he realised he had greatly underestimated her.
Now, he needed to tread lightly.
The blade sunk deeper into the table as he leaned closer. “You wanted her blood in exchange for information.”
“Yet it is a far less selfish bargain than your arrangement with her, is it not?”
He ignored tar taunt. “Who is after me?”
“I do not know yet.”
He gritted his teeth. “Lies.”
Ava's face softened and he watched her slip into her usual overly sweet demeanour. “Astarion, we can be here all night hurling accusations and witty remarks at each other,” she said with a sigh. “Or we can approach this in a more sensitive manner.”
He didn't budge. “Who is after me?”
“I do not know who is after you,” she said. “Someone is, but I have yet to find out who.”
There was something in her tone that felt disingenuous. Almost as if she hadn't expected him to press her on this.
“Or there is no one at all besides you,” he said casually.
Her eyes widened slightly. “Me? And what would I gain from doing such a thing? Your blood is an integral part of this experiment. Locking you up in a prison cell would prove to be a nuisance.”
His patience was wearing thin.
“Darling, I've been around long enough to know people lie – you are a pristine liar, but a liar nonetheless.
In truth, he was merely bluffing in an attempt to spot any cracks in her story. He needed anything he could get from her.
And a part of him still hoped this was all a misunderstanding.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “I can see what you are trying to do and it won't work.”
He thought as much. Still, he had to give it a try.
“What about Waterdeep?”
For the first time that night, Ava looked genuinely dumbfounded. “What about it?”
“No casual killings over there, hmm? In the past hours – accidental ones, perhaps?” he pressed.
She frowned deeply in response. “What are you accusing me of, exactly?”
“Someone was murdered and I am simply trying to rule you out as a suspect,” he said, feigning concern.
“You overestimate my reach outside Baldur's Gate.”
He scoffed. “But not the reach of a certain patriar who so happens to be your lover.”
Ava's lips parted but she didn't utter a word.
“Rob Sorel has dealings in Waterdeep and knows which strings to pull to order a murder.”
She was visibly agitated, but he couldn't tell the cause. Was it the mention of a patriar? Or was he simply nearing the truth?
“Who was killed?”
It was all pointless.
A shame.
He merely turned in his seat and motioned for the two Fists at the door. Both immediately approached with the Mage Slayer right behind.
By this point, Astarion wasn't sure if Ava was even involved in this at all, but he couldn't take any risks. She would be taken in for questioning regardless of his judgement.
“Astarion?”
The room was immediately plunged into silence as multiple heads turned to watch the scene. From behind the counter he spotted Bork shaking his head in clear disapproval, visibly displeased with the ordeal.
“Astarion? What are you doing?”
His eyes met hers as he sheathed his daggers. “The right thing.”
He was known to do that from time to time, even against his better judgement.
She rushed to her feet, clawing at her dress in search of her own dagger. “Astarion!”
He could hear the rising panic in her voice, and he silently watched as the mage cast Hold Person on her before she could so much as blink.
She was instantly left petrified in place as the violet sign on the floor caged her in.
Gasps echoed around him and the two Fists promptly rushed to her side.
“We'll handle it from here,” one of them told him.
There was a part of him that vaguely wondered if this was the correct approach.
A part of him that hoped for Ava not to be involved in any of it.
And then, from across the room, he saw you.
He blinked twice, thinking his eyes betrayed him, but there you were, standing by the door with a Fist at your side, staring back into his crimson eyes.
And it was as if he had been mentally slapped.
Ava had dared to involve you.
You.
And it had been his fault.
The unruly and dense crowd in the room wasn't enough to contain him from darting hurriedly to meet you.
Annoyance hit him first and it was woven into his words once he was in front of you, gripping your forearm. “Why are you here? I told you to let me handle this.”
You immediately yanked free with narrowed eyes. “I wasn't trying to interfere. But this idiot,” you said, pointing to the Fist who merely shrugged, “pushed me inside and – wait! How did it go with her?”
Astarion caught hold of your shoulders, pulling you to the side as Ava was carried away through the door.
As soon as it closed behind them, the fanfare commenced once more in between heated whispers and glares from those around the two of you.
“Marvellous as you can see,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “She didn't confess to anything, and I had limited time.”
You pushed the door open once again and he promptly followed you outside, until he felt a hard shove from someone's hand.
“Move, spawn.”
He glanced over his shoulder only to see a frowning Fist right behind.
“We are not cattle to be ordered around,” he spat, adjusting his vest. “Honestly, Wyll ought to have you all stand trial for severe lack of manners.”
“It's Duke Ravengard to you,” the Fist growled, hand on the hilt of his sword.
Astarion clicked his tongue humorously. “It's Wyll to me and Duke Ravengard to you, Fist.”
Before tensions could escalate any further, you were already tugging at his sleeve, and dragging him across the wooden pier.
Just as the Fist opened his mouth, a myriad of clashing and banging sounds were heard from inside and he turned to open the door.
Probably a tavern brawl.
What fun!
Seconds later, the armoured man was toppled to the ground as the door burst open with people yelling profanities and slinging fists at each other.
“I'll kill ya! WHERE IS MY CHICKEN, YOU OAF?” a drunkard missing most of his teeth yelled, holding a frying pan in his hand.
“YOU ATE IT, YOU IMBECILE!” said another, stepping on the fallen Fist and nearly losing his balance.
Behind them, Astarion spotted several items being tossed whilst Bork's voice begged for order.
He almost clicked his tongue.
Tavern brawls were too much fun and he always adored adding fuel to the fire by standing on the side and instigating these drunkard fools.
But a quick glance at you and he could tell you wouldn't approve of such activity, so he remained at your side.
The other two Fists that were standing guard nearby, clumsily rushed to the entrance.
“Go call for backup!”
The youngest nodded and nearly bumped into Astarion as he tried to keep his helmet steady.
“Oh! Do not leave! Do not move!”
Astarion immediately raised both hands innocently. “Wouldn't dream of it.”
“Right. Thank you!”
Idiot.
Surprisingly, you hadn't let go of his sleeve and your hand moved to his wrist, pulling him to cross the road until you reached the metal balustrade that allowed a privileged view over the Grey Harbour Docks.
It was far away from the chaos that had erupted, but not quite far that would potentially get you into trouble.
Although… “Maybe we should leave.”
Astarion arched an eyebrow at you. “And going against the voice of authority?”
Your face dropped and he fought the urge to pinch your cheek teasingly.
You were so easy to rile up.
“You scheming little delinquent, you,” he said with a devious smile and a chuckle. “I'm all for acts of rebellion, but we ought to stay nearby this time.”
“Do you think we should go help them out?” you asked, glancing over at the rising commotion nearby.
The two of you exchanged looks before shrugging.
“No. They can fend for themselves,” you said, leaning over the fence, eyes set on the lulling sea that spread vastly into the distance.
“Actually, they're quite incompetent, but I don't feel like creasing my shirt,” he said with an annoyed click of his tongue, inspecting his sleeves as he joined you. “Let them fight off the drunkards. We get to collect the scattered coins on the floor afterwards.”
You shot him a curious look. “You do that?”
“Well, obviously? I put the gold to good use, at least.”
“Embroidery?”
That tugged a genuine smile from him and he caught himself staring at you under the moonlight.
Gods.
He would never tire of admiring your beauty and how it was almost embarrassingly too easy for him to get lost in your eyes.
It also didn't help that he hadn't fed in a few days.
Bloodlust clouded his mind and made his insides turn.
It was the soft sound of your voice that snapped him from his thoughts. “What now? I mean… Ava.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, they are to interrogate Rob Sorel and see how both their stories hold up.”
You heaved a deep sigh. “So we wait.”
“We wait.”
Astarion had grown used to the silence that would often settle around the two of you. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one. It was the kind that he had never experienced before.
He wasn't sure there was a name for it, but he knew the feeling attached to it all too well.
The silhouette of passing ships on the horizon, dancing along the calm waters added to the overall soothing atmosphere.
He could stay a while longer like this.
With you.
His eyes eventually darted to the side and he nearly jolted when your head turned to him, as if you had felt his burning gaze.
“You can feed on me once we get home.”
He wanted that.
He needed it.
He craved it.
But… “I can do without your blood for a while longer, darling.”
A white lie.
He could feel his mind spotting and blanking at times already, especially when near you. Maybe he had gotten too addicted to feeding on you to the point his body could no longer go extended periods of time without blood.
Your blood.
And as much as he appreciated your offer, he needed to withstand his hunger.
Ava's words echoed in his mind and he almost felt repulsed from having allowed himself to be so dependent on you and putting you through it in the first place.
“Are you alright?” you asked, visibly worried.
“Yes – of course, darling,” he forced a smile to curl his lips.
Your hand came to rest on his forearm. “Astarion, you can feed on me. I mean it.”
His eyes dropped to your neck, the symmetrical puncture wounds still visible from when he had last bitten you.
Hunger swelled to the point of agony and he could almost smell your blood and feel it coursing through your hand.
You gave him a reassuring nod, which only made it harder for him to resist the urge to give in.
“I should go hunt, actually,” he eventually managed to say and his words felt like ash in his mouth.
You chuckled slightly, squeezing his arm. “You'd probably have to bring a Fist with you.”
He grimaced, but appreciated your attempt at diffusing the tension. “They would end up being the ones hunted by some beast in the woods, and I would have to step in and save the godsdamned idiot.”
Your eyes widened and then you laughed.
Hard.
And it was the most comforting sound he had ever heard in a long while.
It was enough to steer the bloodlust away and he laughed with you.
“It reminds me of the first time you fed on me,” you said, wiping off the teardrops that had formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing. “Remember? When you drifted off into the woods to hunt for something more ‘filing’?”
Oh.
Shit.
His smile wavered and you immediately caught on to the sudden shift.
“What?”
He thought he had told you what truly happened that night….
…. he hadn't?
“Well… I…” his words failed him and as he pondered how he should approach the topic.
Concern suddenly splattered across your face. “What is it?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I didn't exactly go hunting,” he said with a tense chuckle.
You remained silent, waiting for him to go on.
“I just had to get away from you… to… uhm, well – take care of a little problem that stirred whilst I fed on you, if you catch my meaning.”
He allowed the implication to dangle from his words, and it wasn't a particularly subtle one.
And then your eyes widened once more in sudden realisation.
“Oh… it makes sense,” you said all flustered, withdrawing your hand from his arm. “You did say my blood feels really good.”
‘Good’ was an unfair understatement.
It always felt divine.
“Don't misunderstand,” he quickly added. “It was totally out of my control. I was quite surprised when I realised just how…” hard he had gotten.
“Just how…?”
“Just how much your blood affected me.”
He could remember it clearly in his head.
How desperate he was to slip into the woods and find a secluded place so he could see just how much of a mess his trousers were.
He could feel it, obviously, but he wouldn't know the extent of the ‘'damage’ until he undid his trousers.
“Did you… get…. really hard?” you drawled out in a hushed tone as if scared someone other than him might overhear you.
Astarion figured this was the last topic he expected to be addressing given that the background noise consisted of screams and threats and loud noises and glass smashing.
Hardly the right ambience.
“Yes.”
He could almost remember the feel of the bark of the tree digging into his back as he hurriedly undid the lacing at the front until he was able to free his cock.
“And what did you do?”
Were these merely questions that stemmed from curiosity or were you trying to stir something else…?
“Well…” he started, “you can't expect me to reveal such things aloud.”
He watched you swallow hard as you nodded. “You can say in my ear, then? If you want to, of course,” you quickly added.
You were too adorable and he was in dire need of a distraction from his bloodlust.
This would suffice.
He leaned closer, and pressed a kiss to your heated cheek before his lips grazed the shell of your ear.
“I had to take care of it.”
You shuddered.
His cock had never been as hard and as thick before he had fed on you. It had made him utterly speechless to see all the precum dripping from the tip.
He had been almost too scared to even touch it.
But when he did….
The groan that had erupted from his throat had been too difficult to rein in. His cock had felt warm and it had throbbed from your blood coursing through it, giving it a faint pink tint to it.
“In the woods?” you asked, gripping the railing with both hands.
“Yes.”
He could hear the faint beating of your heart increasing. “What if someone had run into you?”
His cock twitched.
Innocent, little pup…
“Why, darling… did you want to run into me,” he lowered his voice as his lips brushed against your ear, "and witness my despair as I touched myself?”
You gasped.
Despair didn't quite cover it.
He couldn’t remember a time when he had ever felt like he'd implode lest he reached climax.
It was a novelty and he had felt… alive.
He had heard of how delectable the blood of thinking creatures could be, but he had never anticipated this feeling of fullness and how addictive it could be.
“It was so warm… from your blood, sweetheart,” he purred, feeling himself getting carried away.
You bit your quivering lip before replying, “Did it feel good?”
Maybe too carried away.
And when you shuddered again under his faint touch, it was as if he had been slapped back into another plane of existence.
He suddenly straightened himself and blinked.
What was he doing?
His abrupt change in demeanour was enough to earn a reaction from you, and he could see lust in your half-hooded eyes as you stared at him in confusion.
And just like a tidal wave that one couldn't hold back, he felt disgust and revulsion lacing themselves into a powerful mixture that caused him to take a step back.
His mind was flooded with Ava's accusatory words and the memories of him seducing you for his own benefit.
“Astarion?”
Your voice was miles away and he couldn't even bring himself to blink anymore.
The nauseating feeling was heightened by the fact that he had a very inconvenient erection strained against his trousers, begging for attention.
“Astarion… what is it?”
Your voice seemed even more distant than before, as if he had been plunged into a well and couldn't get out.
Why couldn't he get out?
Why was his cock so hard, but his mind so repulsed by it?
And the impending feeling of dread began to slowly overtake him like storm clouds rolling over the mountains, bent on flooding the land below.
And when it began to rain in his mind, it poured.
He needed to get away.
He needed to get away from you.
You tried reaching out to him with your hand, but he flinched away. “Don't touch me!”
And he could see it in your eyes.
Pity.
Again.
“I – I must go.”
And he didn't look back.
TBC
#astarion#astarion bg3#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion x you#astarion x oc#astarion x female tav#astarion smut#astarion x female reader#astarion x f!tav
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Long Post
Every time I see the ‘let my girl be happy’ tag and the post is about canon Nessian, it infuriates me as much as it breaks my heart. Sometimes I wonder if those who romanticise Cassian’s toxic behaviours are speaking from a place of privilege or ignorance, because admitting that calls for addressing real-life abuse and misogyny they are forced to endure.
I’m an Indian living in a highly patriarchal, misogynistic society where women are still required to marry someone out of convenience for the sake of their families. This is not the cute arranged marriages you read about in books or watch in movies. Most women have to sacrifice everything they stand for to ease their families’ burdens. And let’s not even start with dowry or DV. Sure, our society has progressed in many ways, yet, this is the reality of most women when it comes to marriages. No matter how well-off you are, no matter how successful you are in your career. It’s more nuanced than you imagine; parents meddle with children’s lives at every step, and our lives are more intertwined with our families than in western society. So I simply can’t read Nesta’s story and delude myself into thinking she got a happy ending with Cassian or the Inner Circle. I keep my emotions out of most of the criticisms to help people see the situation objectively. That’s hard to do in this case, but I’ll try.
Nesta is the eldest child who ‘fails’ her sisters, though it is her father’s responsibility to care for three young girls. Having been groomed to be a housewife all her life, she contributes in the only way she knows—by doing the chores and nurturing her family. She seeks help from relatives and friends, while the ones in position to do so ignore her. And when the time comes, she finds a way to be of use to her family by marrying Tomas. Despite all this, Nesta is considered a failure of a sister, simply because Feyre made a choice. Most of these only come to light in Silver Flames, and even the few instances where Feyre realises this, there’s no real appreciation for Nesta’s efforts. Instead, they are dismissed or only mentioned to highlight Feyre’s empathic tendencies and her awareness of her sisters’ plights, rather than uplifting Nesta’s character. None of these are acknowledged as they don’t fit the typical masculine ideals glorified throughout the series.
As Nesta navigates her life as a newly transformed fae, she partakes in a war in which she has no part in. She has no obligation or need to risk her life for the Night Court, or any other court, or even the mortals. These are the same acts that made Feyre a hero in the first book. But when it comes to Nesta, and she rises to the occasion, her actions are downplayed as she grapples with PTSD from her death, the Cauldron, the toll of war, and her father’s death. None of her sacrifices or her attempts to protect her sisters are given an ounce of importance or respect they deserve. Instead, it’s framed as Nesta’s duty as the eldest sister or the sister of the Night Court’s High Lady.
When she deals with her trauma, everyone takes great pleasure in controlling how the situation unfolds. She goes as far as living alone to spare her sisters. Yet Feyre and Elain, who have the choice of when and how to regulate their emotions, fail to grasp the concept of personal space. Her actions are self-sabotaging at best and have no real consequences on any of the other characters. Still, they are amplified to an extent that it’s turned into a court affair. The reason for this is Nesta isn’t coping in the right way. Gambling, drinking and sex—common activities for the Inner Circle—become a question of their reputation the moment she engages in them in her pain, emphasising that these are only acceptable when done with them. Spending Feyre’s money on gambling may seem like a reasonable cause for Rhysand to interfere, but if we factor in how Nesta’s rightful wealth from Tamlin or her father was lost as a direct consequence of Inner Circle’s actions, along with the fact that she is still owed money for her contribution in the war, Nesta is deliberately stripped of any monetary agency to trap her.
If this isn’t punishment enough, she is locked in an inescapable tower with a man she wants no part of. When she objects to this, she is lied to about their laws and threatened being thrown among people who will consider her a threat. She has no interest in training to fight or working for the Night Court, but she’s forced to. She’s not compensated for any of this labour either. Nesta is known to starve herself after the war to the point that she’s nothing but ‘skin and bones’. Cassian, an established gym bro in the series, weaponises food against her when she refuses to eat what is offered or when. The moment she shows any interest in eating, he judges her for being picky and brings up her latent guilt that led her down that path in the first place. Later on, knowing she’s not fit enough, the Inner Circle insists on training her right away, in freezing conditions, without proper clothing. Nesta soon learns that she has no choice but to comply. She goes on to train with Cassian, work in the library, and accept the food the house gives her. This is the first step in breaking her.
Nesta has no one to rely on or talk to in the house except for Cassian. The relationship that develops between them is not circumstantial but a well-orchestrated one. Even for small talk, Cassian is her only choice. After learning Nesta was SA’d by the kelpie and on the verge of death, no one (including her sisters) cares for her as much as they should. The only person who checks on her is Cassian, and even he is so overcome with desire and lust that he has sex with her instead of comforting her. It is common knowledge that sex is a coping mechanism for her and that she has been SA’d twice—something only Cassian knows. This perpetuates the idea that even when a woman is hurting and in pain, she must be appealing, and her trauma should be sexually gratifying and desirable for the man. A woman can walk back from the doors of death, but she must look pretty while doing it. There is nothing empowering about that.
Then, there is Eris’s seduction. Feyre looks down on Nesta for contemplating selling her body to take care of her sisters. But the same is expected of her when she serves the Night Court. It is almost glorified and revered by Cassian himself. During their conversation in River House, he lets her believe that she has to earn both his love and her sisters’. Not once does he contradict any of her fears or insecurities. For the first time, Nesta has sex with him without it being an escape, and the next morning, Cassian abandons her, reinforcing the idea that she indeed earned the sex and love for what she did in Court of Nightmares.
When Nesta reveals the truth about Feyre’s pregnancy, her true feelings are swept under the rug by how she ‘failed’ her sister again. She has the right to expose Rhysand and his plans. Even if the situation isn’t the most ideal, she is locked in a tower and only talks to anyone when the IC choose, which limits her options. Besides, when will the timing ever be perfect for such a conversation? She is again vilified for being the only one honest with her sister. Her intentions are twisted to cover up others’ mistakes. Cassian, once again, is the one who punishes her for it.
At this point, Nesta is suicidal, and Cassian recognises the signs. He still insists on taking the hike, also using the silent treatment to enforce the idea that she is in the wrong. His interactions with Feyre prove none of them dwell on Nesta’s actions as much as she believes. While she is having a guilt trip, edging her closer to suicide, Cassian laughs behind her back with Feyre, almost enjoying her fears. At the end of this trip, Nesta finally opens up about her trauma for the first time, and Cassian swoops in with his own sorrows and how he overcame them. Instead of making her feel seen and heard, she is once again lectured on what she should do and how.
Lastly, Cassian and Morrigan have a mildly, if not completely, inappropriate relationship that Nesta is expected to accept. If she expresses jealousy or anger, it’s not because of the bond or their relationship, but will be seen as her inherent quality. She can’t fight it as everyone else has accepted it as a normal relationship. If she shows any displeasure, her past of sleeping with other men will be brought into the conversation, and she will be scrutinised. This is very similar to the ‘men will be men’ narrative—the man can flirt with whoever he wants, and it’s harmless, but the woman has to behave.
Throughout the series, everyone is against Nesta. Her family is her responsibility. She has a duty to protect and serve them, no matter the circumstances, no matter how much it costs her or how much pain she is in. Her own sisters side with her in-laws, saying it’s how things are and she ‘doesn’t have to be so miserable’. Her life is forever bound to a man she initially wanted nothing to do with and her everyday existence is dependent on him. She is trapped with him until she learns to accept her fate. He doesn’t lay a hand on her, but he psychologically and emotionally abuses her until she complies with his family and behaves to fit their image. He even gives her the silent treatment, withdraws sex/intimacy from her, leaves her alone in the tower, cuts her off from everyone she loves and cares about if she misbehaves. She has no financial independence, leaving her at the mercy of her sister and her family. Even when she’s hurting, she has no choice but to risk her life for them or go to war when they demand. She goes as far as changing her body for her future child. Her life is threatened by her in-laws, but no one bats an eye at that, forever leaving her fearing for her safety.
If you believe it’s just fiction and that all this is exaggeration of something in a fantasy book, you really need to look around you. This is a real nightmare for most women around the world. Your girl, Nesta, isn’t happy. She settled. She has accepted a life in which she is treated less than a dog and used as a weapon. She’s been beaten down until she learnt not to step out of line if she wants to live. She is still with Cassian because she doesn’t see a life other than that as an option and has come to accept whatever scraps her sister and her family have decided to throw her way. And I sincerely hope that if you ever come across a real-life Rhysand or Cassian, you have the wits to protect yourself and run the other way.
#nesta#nesta archeron#nesta was wronged#nesta archeron deserves better#cassian critical#rhysand critical#feyre critical#elain critical#inner circle critical#morrigan critical#acotar critical#sjm critical
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