#stripped of your body your past and your voice is it really still you anymore?

[ramenwithbroccoli]

hey girl did it hurt? when he loved you so much he gave you immortality, but not enough to ask if you actually want it?

[spacebarbarianweird]

Things We Deserve

Summary: Astarion re-lives one of the traumatic episodes of his life, and considers himself unworthy of love.

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, f!tav, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of past abuse

TW: a mild description of forced prostitution

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Thanks @satanicspinosaurus for your help! I live for your commentaries on ethical issues.

It is on the same corner of the street in the Lower City. Again.

A young elf is looking for a “client”. It's not difficult — he has soft white curls, a gentle smile, the body sculptured by some elven god. A glance, two, some nice words — and there is a night of passion ahead.

A half-orc, almost twice as big as the elf, grabs his chin and studies his face as if Astarion is an inanimate object. Then orders to lift up his shirt. The client looks at him with the same expression as if he were buying a horse. 

His hand gropes the elf’s crotch, causing him to moan. 

"Works for me", the half-orc grabs a handful of silver curls with his stiff fingers. "Never fucked an elf".

Astarion obeys. This is what he is. A mere street whore.

No, go away, you don't need to do that anymore. You are free, don't let him touch you!

Astarion knows what will come next. Two half-orcs, who despise and hate elves to their guts will really enjoy having one for themselves for the whole night. 

They’ll give him pain. Disgust. Burning touches. 

"Entertain us, elf", the half-orc groans pressing the Astarion’s face into the pillow. 

Here’s a joke: the elf wants to die. Sadly, he is already dead. And that's his life now. Forever. 

Beatings. Non-consensual sex. Or consensual? Is this what he wants? He never says “no”, after all.

I want you all to burn down, Astarion thinks spreading his legs. I want you to suffer as much as I do!

The half-orcs never give him a chance to drag them to the Cazador’s mansion. They won't die. They won't suffer. They use Astarion and then leave. A small sack of silver breaks when it is thrown on the floor.

And Astarion will have to deal with his sore body and numb mind. Forcing himself to get someone else inside the brothel, knowing too well that he is already doomed for torture because he hasn’t returned on time. Even if he delivers the most innocent and beautiful virgin to Cazador, he will be punished anyway.

Flayed with a razor. What? He is a vampire. He will regenerate. 

Astarion opens his eyes and finds himself on the floor. 

Where is he?

It's not a brothel. More like an Inn?

Reality slips back into his mind, replacing the awful visions of the past.

It wasn't real. Of course, it wasn't.

He doesn't have to sell his body anymore. He doesn’t have to sleep with people he doesn't like and want. He won't be beaten for saying “no”. He even has the luxury to say “no” to Tav, the only person whose body he enjoys. 

But two hundred years of memories are too vivid. Tortures. Humiliation. Misery. Forced prostitution. He had to do the most disgusting things on his master's whims, and Astarion is afraid nothing will ever wash it away. 

The flood of darkness flushes his brain again. Astarion rises up on his knees as if in a desperate prayer.

Why him?

Why did it happen to him?

His life was stolen. His personality, his future, his past. All was brutally taken away along with his beating heart.

Leaving only pain and disgust.

Tears burn his skin. The scars hurt as if they are still fresh and bleeding. 

He was stripped away of everything. Of freedom. Of dignity. Of his own self-respect.

The person he could have become. The future he could have embraced. 

Why?

Why?!

He digs his nail deep into his skin as if trying to peel it off. He is a vampire. It will regenerate.

Touches. The smell of unwashed bodies. Movements inside him. The fake pleasure. Pain. Always — pain. Either physical or mental, but often both. 

He clenches his fists and groans like a wounded animal.

"Astarion"

A gentle voice resonates with his broken thoughts. 

“Astarion, are you with me?”

He looks up and sees Tav. She sits in front of him. Concerned face. Worried eyes. She doesn’t move, doesn’t try to touch him. Like he's a person.

Like he's worth something.

Like he's broken and she needs to be careful.

"Oh, hello, darling", the mask is on again. "I am sorry. I've been carried away a bit. Tell me how was your day in the sunlight."

Tav sighs. “Astarion, I returned an hour ago. And you’ve been like that all this time.”

"Darling, you could just call me over”, Astarion smiles. 

"I have done it five times."

“Oh. Then … “

“Astarion, I know when your smile is sincere and when it’s not. Don’t force yourself.”

He stops and sits back.

“May I touch you?”, she asks.

He nods. The caress sends a shiver down his spine and Astarion flinches avoiding looking at Tav.

He remembers. Again, and again. Never-ending tortures disguised as pleasures. Things he would have never done voluntarily. The dirt on his skin. The poison on his tongue.

Astarion wants to hide. He wants to disappear. He wants to run away.

Tav crawls closer to him to hold him in her hands. 

He shivers.

“Hush, I am here. Tell me what is plaguing you.”

He almost orders himself to relax. Tav is here. Tav loves him. Tav doesn’t judge. Whatever he tells her, she won’t get angry. She won’t hurt him. She won’t punish him. Tav won’t use him for sex and pleasure. It will never happen no matter what he does. 

He can run away. He can say “no”. He can fight back.

"Just a memory of a certain night in the lower town. A night of... what I usually was supposed to do. I...” the words stuck in his throat. “I am tainting you, Tav. I am ruining you.”

"Stop", Tav puts her chin on his shoulder nuzzling his collarbone. 

"I am a terrible person, Tav. I truly am. It all happened to me and I sometimes think what a terrible person I used to be if I inflicted it all upon myself.”

Instead of answering, Tav holds him tighter as if not to not allow him to drown in dark waters. 

"Do you remember anything from your past life?"

"No"

"Then why do you think you were a bad person?”

“Because — … “

He doesn’t know the answer. A corrupt magistrate who would easily ruin people’s lives. An arrogant racist who hated everyone who didn’t belong to the pure fairy kin. 

But was it true?

“Listen, Astarion. I won’t pretend I know what you were like back then. I won’t lie by saying I know why it happened to you. But everything you “know” about your past life comes from Cazador. What if it was just another of his tortures? He wanted you to believe you were a bad person. He wanted you to think you were guilty. I know that type. It’s a special pleasure for them to torture good people. He — “

“Made me a street whore.”

He spits the last word. Yes, that is what he was all these years. He can mask it all with fancy words. Conquests, lovers, seduction. When it was just abuse.

Words spill out of him.

"Sometimes I wasn’t even supposed to drag anyone to the mansion. It was more like retrieving information by doing the only thing I knew how to do well. Sometimes it was an order to pleasure someone - as a reward for them. Sometimes it was just pointless. Just one more thing to break me even more.”

"You say like you did it of your own free will", she says.

"I-"

"You did it because you were like a puppet. Because it was impossible to say “no”. The moment you set yourself free, you stopped doing that."

"And the first thing I did was seduce you!”

She cups his face and kisses his forehead. It causes another flow of tears. 

“I have my own free will, too,” she says. “Do you think I would sleep with you if I didn’t want to? I am not the person who hooks up with men in brothels and I am not the person who would enjoy a sentient trophy to fuck. It’s not normal to find people on streets and treat them like objects.”

Tav cradles him in her arms. Astarion’s muscles are still tense. He can’t do anything about that. Maybe, if Tav leaves him for a moment, he will find a way to relax but the mere thought of staying alone scares him.

She kisses him. Saying all the sweet words she knows to soothe his worries.

"I have an idea," she finally says. “Could you lie on your stomach?"

“What for?”

Tav kisses his neck.

"Please?"

He is trying to lie on the floor but Tav stops him.

“On the bed.”

He hesitates but agrees. Astarion puts his hands under his cheek. His bare back is exposed and it causes him to clench his fists again.

“I will stop if you feel uncomfortable, love. Just tell me and I will stop”

He nods. Tav saddles him with her hips and presses hands on his ribs.

“Can I touch your scars?”

“Yes.”

Tav presses arms into his skin causing a pleasant pressure. The fingers massage his back but there is nothing sexual about it. It's not a premise, not a prelude. It will lead to nothing. He won’t have to pay back.

The hands massage his back, strongly and gently. 

"You have beautiful hands”, Tav murmurs. “They can do so many things —”

Yes, he thinks darkly, bringing pleasure mostly.

“They can sew, embroider. Pick up lockers. Steal pretty things. I like watching you doing tricks with coins. Can’t take my eyes off. Speaking of which… ”

Tav touches his curls.

“You have incredible eyes. Crimson red – “

The color of blood.

“The color of wine”, Tav proceeds. “You are always vigilant, like a cat on a hunt. You notice small details and see things I don’t.”

Tav moves a bit to be able to press a kiss on the crown of his head.

“You are so smart. You know so many things.” She gently touches his right ear. “I love your ears and how they peek out of your hair. They are so adorable especially when they twitch a bit, reacting to sounds or to your jaw movements.”

She keeps talking to him, massaging his back. The words of reassurance, of love, sound like a prayer. The touches and kisses cover his skin like a healing ointment.

Astarion feels protected. Loved. 

And then it’s just too much.

He bursts into tears. Desperate, painful. Tears rip his chest apart causing pain in the throat. 

Tav stops and gets off him allowing him to lay on his back.

“Astarion… Did I hurt you?”

He wants to say something but he can’t. He cries like a child abandoned in the streets. Cries like he did many years ago when the first tortures were inflicted upon him. When he realized no one would save him. That the Gods were silent and merciless. 

“Astarion…”

All the darkness he has in his heart is spilling through the tears. They wash away the pain and disgust like rain washes dirt in the Lower City. 

With effort he pulls Tav to him pressing her to his chest. She wraps her hands around him.

“Thank you”, he mutters through tears.

They sit like that for an eternity. Astarion listens to Tav’s heartbeat and breathing. He remembers her first reaction to his stories – anger. Pure, livid anger. Anger to people who did this to him. Not only Cazador but everyone who treated him like an object. And sorrow – she mourned his past along with him. 

She is his happiness. The happiness he has never considered worthy of. He has found it with her. And he will be forever grateful for her patience and care.

“Tav?”, he whispers but she doesn’t reply. He pulls away a bit and sees she is asleep.

Astarion chuckles and helps Tav to lie on the bed beside him. He tucks her into the blanket and makes sure she lies on the dry side of the pillow (not the section damp with his tears).

And then, he begins whispering words like a prayer.

Thank you. Thank you for existing.

--

Tag List

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire @marcynomercy

[jvkeh]

embarrassing things enhypen did during sex

⤷ c.w brief smut mentioned | enhypen legal line x reader | © jvkeh

# heeseung

after what felt like eternity, he got up from the bench, ready to accompany you into the shower and give you the fuck of a lifetime. you both were stripped down to nothing, the tension only amplifying the further you went without sexual interaction. and as he attempted to corner you into a corner and place a hand behind the wall, he realises there’s no grip when everything’s wet and his balance is thrown off. suddenly, heeseung is suddenly feeling his bare ass making contact with the floor and making him screech at the loud impact. he ended up having to limp out of the shower with your assistance, with a bright red imprint on his butt and a bruised ego that made him never want to attempt shower sex ever again. the only thing that came good out of it, is your pure laughter, but he makes a mental note to check you in with a psychiatric, as he’s concerned about your sense of humour.

# jay

he was hitting from the back at a strong pace, opening his mouth to let out what was expecting to be a loud groan at the sound of your pussy clenching on his cock, before a burp exits his mouth. you both pause momentarily, letting the volume and randomness of his burp take hold of your mind before his dick reminds you it’s still inside your cunt. you were torn between wanting to cum and wanting to leave the bed because he ruined the fast paced steamy atmosphere and now the air is beginning to smell like rotten eggs and cheese. “jay, this is really not appealing to me.” you broke the tension as you turned to look at jay, seeing him shrug. “don’t worry baby.” he replies, the egg and cheese radiating off his voice and making you scrunch your nose up in disgust as he leaned over and kissed you, the scent reminiscing on your body now. “it’s the beauty of life.” it be more beautiful if he brushed his teeth.

# jake

you were riding his thigh, as he laid back into the couch, eyes closed and his abs unclenched. it’s been like this for the past ten minutes, and while you were struggling to reach the end purely on your own, you were confused to why jake’s thigh wasn’t tensed. there was wet marks imprinted on his trackpants, yet he wasn’t reacting the way you wanted. pausing, you waited for him to say something, before realising he was softly snoring. he fell asleep. “jake!” you shouted, angry at the fact he completely abandoned your problem in favour of some zs, and he shook under the sound of your voice, eyes flying open as his hands begin to find his way back onto your waist. “oh yeah babe keep goin-” he tries to resume with a sleepy voice, until jake makes eye contact with your not impressed face, and then the both of you broke out in laughter. (you gave him a earful after that)

# sunghoon

“look, it came out accidentally. like, no person with common sense would do that intentionally.” sunghoon tries to reason with you as you looked at him in disbelief. “don’t water down the problem, hoon. i know what i heard.” you rolled your eyes, pulling your underwear back up, not wanting to continue with your ministrations now he did it. “i’m not having sex with you until you stop this issue. because it happened more than once!” and sunghoon can only slap his face in annoyance, frustrated to why it happened again when he made a promise to you not to do it anymore. you see the dejected look on his face, and only sighed before placing an arm on his shoulder. “look, love, i know you’re frustrated. but it’s hard to actually cum myself when you moan out your own name when you climax.”

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @enhacolor

[demonskiss]

how would they react to a very sleepy darling? like if you just constantly fell asleep everywhere

- 🪽

too much sleep

cw: noncon, somno, creampie, cnc, oral (reader receiving), fingering

WARNING: VIOLETTA’S SECTION IS COMPLETELY PLATONIC

written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable

falling asleep in front of emory is one of the worst things you can do to yourself. they think you’re absolutely foolish for it, even if you can’t control it. and they’d be right, when they snake their hand further up your thigh, a emitting a quiet, but malicious laugh. you’ll be stripped naked by their deft hands, fucked silly on their cock, and they don’t even care if you wake up, in fact, they want you to wake up. they’ll make sure to time your awakenings to when they cum inside you, grinning when they see your horrified expression, and if you don’t wake up? oh well, they’ll make sure to leave a rude awakening for you, covered with dried cum on your violated body. you should really find better locations to sleep yknow?

blythe is taken aback at your sleeping form. yes, the urges tell him to ravage your body, to wake you up in the throughs of passion. but they couldn’t do that to you, not when you are so vulnerable. he brings this up to you the next time you’re awake, and when you tell him that it’s okay, he can touch your body, they can take you in your sleep and you don’t mind if you get waken up, this changes him completely, and every night, you’re awakened to him groping your body with passion in his grey blue eyes. he mumbles a half hearted apology, squeezing the meat of your thighs before diving back down between your legs once more. you’re afraid you won’t have much time to sleep anymore, they’re completely insatiable.

violetta drops her pencil on the ground when she feels your head drop to her shoulder. she can’t help but blush, her muse, her closest friend is so close to her! she can see every small detail on your lovely face, and she’s amazed every single time. she can’t wake you, there’s no way she can when you’re sleeping so soundly right next to her. a prepared artist always has more than one pencil, and she sketches your lovely features, snarling at anyone who dares try to disturb your slumber. she simply laughs it off when you’re embarrassed about falling asleep on her, it just means you trust her after all! and that’s super important between friends!

ambrose sees this daily, when he was hidden when you first moved in, to now, when you’re fully aware of him and his peculiar mannerisms. but he still cannot get over how stunning you look, the way your chest rises and falls like a steady beat, the way your face looks so calm and still, reminding the man of his body back when he died. he can’t control himself, grazing your body with the pads of his freezing fingers, slipping his hands past your clothes, watching you moan softly in your sleep. it gets him so aroused hearing your sweet voice, egging him to slip his fingers down to between your legs, coaxing his fingers further into your hole. he then takes out his fingers, and quickly removes his spectral clothing, pushing himself where he truly belongs. and he wraps his arms around your warmer body, thrusting slowly and shallowly, taking his time. he’s truly sweet, and he’ll make sure he won’t wake you up, even though you’re half freezing to death because of him.

you cannot expect to send me this and me to not write somno? enjoy the food my pretties >:3

[sumeruin]

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!

♫♪: pairing: pantalone x secretary! reader

♫♪: warnings: written by a minor, noncon/dubcon, was written to be yandere but could be read without, power imbalance, pet play, lots and lots of cum play, like seriously this is mostly cum play read at your own risk, collaring (but not the actual proper kind), slight blackmail, humiliation, brief exhibitionism, lingerie, i think that’s it, but if i missed anything please let me know!!

♫♪: a/n: part two to this drabble from a while ago!!

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!

this is absolutely humiliating.

you thought you’d be able to handle it, a 10% raise on top of your already obscenely high salary for a secretary would give you enough money to move out of your apartment and get a house, maybe even in one of the nicer parts of snezhnaya, and you figured he’d be at least a little bit nicer since you were cooperative.

oh how wrong you were.

you hadn’t realized how much pantalone would enjoy prolonging your torment. every morning when you get to work ever since you agreed to the uniform change, he’s made you strip out of all your clothes, (in front of him, of course, because, as he so eloquently put it, your body already belongs to him, of course he’d want to watch his property change.) put on the skimpiest, most humiliating lingerie, kneel in front of him while he attaches your leash to your collar, and sit perfectly still while he cums all over your face, multiple times, usually, unless he’s feeling particularly merciful.

he never lets you take off the collar, either. not that you could if he did, there’s a lock on it and you watched him destroy the only key after he placed it on you. today, he seems to be feeling especially cruel, the lingerie he picked out for you is much more revealing than usual, and he decided to cum on your face three times this morning, forcing you to wear a huge amount of his release for the entire day. he chose a set today, with dark blue, see through lace over the entire thing and some leather straps that dig uncomfortably into your skin.

the worst part, though, is definitely the panties. even ignoring the fact that they’re completely see through, only covered by very thin lace, they’re crotchless, and pantalone has taken to randomly pressing this buzzing device he got from fontaine against your clit when you’re walking past him. well, he doesn’t let you walk anymore, good pets only crawl, but you don’t really have any room to protest.

today, he seems to be enjoying humiliating you a little more than usual, he’s been making you kneel on the ground next to his desk with your legs spread for the last two hours, giving anyone who opens the door a perfect view of just how depraved he’s made you look. and oh, do people open the door. he’s been ordering anyone who he has superiority over to come to his office. he even made all his recruits do their reports in his office instead of at the training ground like usual, just so that he can torment you even more. you’re just grateful he at least gave you the mercy of a cushion to kneel on, your knees definitely wouldn’t have been able to take kneeling on his hardwood floors for this long.

you’re quickly snapped out of your thoughts by pantalone’s voice, dripping with amusement and condescension and oh so mocking. he gives your leash a little tug as he speaks, effectively pulling you closer to him by the neck, and once you take the hint and crawl over to him, he grips your chin, chuckling quietly to himself at your appearance as he tilts your head side to side, thoroughly examining you. “well, my dear, how do you like your uniform? i can’t imagine that much cum is comfortable to wear on your face, especially when it’s dried like this…”

you know better than to agree with him, he’s baiting you, trying to get you to complain about your uniform so that he has an excuse to punish you. you fell for it the first couple times, but you’re slowly learning his manipulative ways. your voice rings out, so sweet and clear, knowing that he can’t stand it when you mumble. “it’s not an issue, sir.”

pantalone raises an eyebrow, smirking at you as he coos softly, his hand that isn’t holding your chin moving to stroke your hair. “aw, is that so? do you enjoy wearing my cum on your face, my dear?”

you pause a little at that. it’s obviously a trick question, your only options are to tell him that you don’t and risk being punished, or tell him that you do and risk him trying to make things worse for you. you only have one option, really, you can’t take another one of his punishments, so you speak, swallowing a little bit as embarrassment floods your body. “yes, sir, i enjoy it.”

he gets this gleam in his eyes, and you feel dread slowly clawing it’s way up your spine. he only ever looks like that when he’s planning something terrible.

“that’s good to know, darling… if you enjoy it so much, why don’t i give you more then?” he pauses, letting out a small laugh as he sees the mess he’s already made of your face. “though, i’m afraid there isn’t much room on your face… ah, i know, why don’t you tell me where you want more of my cum, dear? you surely must have a few ideas, since you enjoy it so.” he tilts his head to the side, giving you that he always does when he knows he’s won.

you gulp, thinking for a minute before you settle on your hands. it’s not like you use them for much at work anyways, and it’s a much better option than anything else. “u-um… i’d like your cum on my hands, please, sir.” you pray he can’t tell how reluctant you are as you speak, trying your hardest to mask the dread in your voice.

pantalone gives you a mocking smile, his voice so condescending when he speaks, talking down to you like a dog. “oh? you’d like to have my cum on your hands, would you? i suppose that would work… though you’ll have to clean up any mess you make, of course.” he gives your leash another tug, pulling you in between his legs as he slowly pulls his cock out. “now, pet, cup your hands underneath the tip. and why don’t you give it a kiss, hm?”

you reluctantly oblige, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his hard cock, cringing just barely when his precum coats your lips. luckily for you, he doesn’t seem to notice your slip up, too busy loosing himself in the feel of your soft lips on such a sensitive area. he sighs with pleasure, one of his hands tangling itself in your hair as he brings his other one down to stroke his cock, keeping his eyes locked on you the entire time. he’s quickly approaching his peak, and he speaks just before he cums. “beg me for it. beg me to cum on you, pet.”

you feel your humiliation and shame rising yet again, but you know you have no choice when his grip in your hair tightens ever so slightly. you take a deep breath, and then you speak, begging him so obediently, making sure you put some faux enthusiasm into your voice. “please, sir, please cum on me, i w-want it so badly, i n-need your cum, please, sir!”

with a loud, and as much as you hate to admit it? pretty sounding moan, pantalone finally cums. though, only some of it ends up in your cupped hands, most of it shoots out uncontrollably and coats your chest and stomach, the warm liquid covering you thoroughly as you cringe internally at the feeling. he sighs, leaning back in his chair as he grips your leash once again, his hand falling from your hair as he puts his cock away.

he pulls your leash taut, lifting up your body by your neck as he forces you to stand in front of him, his head getting closer to your ear as he leans in, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he speaks words that only serve to make your embarrassment worse, proving that you weren’t fooling him one bit with your little act.

“thank you for humoring me, dear. i know how unenjoyable you find the feeling of my cum.”

♫♪: tags: @mirangel, @drooluwu

[secretwhumplair]

Their Majesty

1,142 words | The black prince [WT] (sequel to Elgar waits)

Content | Painful healing, emotionally painful etiquette

Notes | Everybody bow for Ozriel! They're here to patch their little brother back together.

Taglist | @echo-goes-aaa @whump-blog @scoundrelwithboba @whumpcreations

Please come in. Please come in. Please come in.

Orafin’s heart was in his throat, but it wasn’t in fear like it had always been in the past horrible months. His sibling was here. They were right outside. He had no doubt they would rush to him as quickly as courtesy allowed, but Ozriel was very good at keeping their regal appearances. He admired that, but he still couldn’t help wishing for them to come running. He couldn’t even think of what all might hold them up, despite having gone through the same training, so overwhelming was his desire.

And it was mere moments before they entered, passing Elgar who had led them.

They were so very good at holding themself together. Even having known them all his life, he barely saw the twitch when they paused for a moment, stone-faced, to compose themself. They looked… exhausted. Older, too.

He bowed to them as best as his position allowed. They were Crown, now.

»Your Highness.« There was the slightest scratch underneath their voice, and when they came to sit beside him, he saw the tears they couldn’t cry sparkling in their eyes. »You’re injured, let me take care of that first.«

He nodded, blinking back tears of his own. They were here, and yet they had to stay dignified.

»Medic.«

The medic rushed forward so fast they almost tripped, kneeling down by their side.

»You others are dismissed.«

Tarrev and the attandants who had snuck in with them bowed out, and Elgar was about to follow them when Orafin reached out a hand to him. It was selfish, perhaps, when Elgar was so uncomfortable, but he wanted him by his side for this—and also for him to see Orziel as the force for good they would be in his life.

Orziel looked over, not even asking any questions. »Stay,« they commanded in Teeradian. Orafin was glad Elgar got to hear his country’s language; it might reassure him a little.

Upon their order, he crept back into his place at Orafin’s other side.

Orafin took his hand, and gave Ozriel the other so that they could connect to his body. They didn’t really need it anymore, but it would help, and Orafin was glad for an excuse to look for comfort. This would hurt—the whole pain of weeks of healing, compressed into one short song.

The medic handed him a strip of thick leather, their eyes regretful. »Bite down on this.«

Ozriel looked at him. »I’ll start with the legs, and then you’ll tell me what else is hurting.«

Only when he nodded did they close their eyes, and start to sing.

They had a lovely voice, but unfortunately, Orafin didn’t get to enjoy it in the least. It took all he had to keep his teeth clamped down on the leather, keep his screams somewhat muffled. If he had thought having them broken in the first place, jostled, and once or twice, when their master felt particularly cruel, kicked had been bad, it was nothing to what he was feeling now. Every thought was drowned out in agony fierce enough to radiate into his entire body. It engulfed him, his bones were molten glass, it would never end-

It ended. Of course it did, and with a suddenness his mind could not comprehend. He just lay there, shivering and sobbing, and only slowly came back into the real world to notice he was crushing the fingers of both his companions. He carefully loosened his grip.

The pain in his legs was gone, all of it. Well, if he paid close attention, he could tell the bruises were still there, but that was nothing next to the pain the broken bones had caused him.

He smiled up at Ozriel, working himself back into a sit. They returned the smile, although it didn’t reach their eyes. Orafin couldn’t blame them, given what they’d just witnessed, and actually caused.

Then he looked over to Elgar, and realized his expression was worse.

His eyes were wide and horrified and fixed on his legs. He had probably never seen, or rather heard, the black art in action before—it had never occurred to Orafin, having known it his whole life, but he knew it wasn’t widespread outside of Ochuria.

He could understand that the way it felt inside the body, the way it tugged at the blood of anyone close enough to hear it, might be unsettling to someone unused to it.

He gently squeezed Elgar’s hand.

Elgar flinched.

Outright shock washed through Orafin. No. This wasn’t right. He had known Elgar was anxious, but this was their shared comfort, their quiet little language of mututal care.

He almost burst into tears before Elgar finally returned the squeeze, his eyes cast down.

Orafin swallowed. With Orziel here, he would be able to tell Elgar a bunch of things in private, and he hoped he could finally put his worries to rest. But for now, the medic needed to supervise his healing. Already they were examining his legs, clearly uncomfortable with scrutinizing their crown’s work like this.

They nodded, relieved. »Excellent, your Majesty.«

»What else do you need healed, your Highness?« Ozriel’s voice was softer than the formal words.

They couldn’t regrow an entire organ, Orafin knew perfectly well. He’d known all along, but now, so close to them, the thought still crossed his mind as if he was eight years old again, convinced his eldest sibling could do anything.

Instead of his mouth, Orafin indicated his back, and Ozriel themself helped him pull off the simple tunic he had been given in place of the rags he had arrived in. He heard them gasp softly. He didn’t know what it looked like, of course, only how the bleeding tears the whip had left in his skin time and again burned, but he imagined it wasn’t pretty.

It wasn’t as bad as broken bones, he told himself. It wasn’t as bad in healing, either. But he was still glad when it was over. A bit of spit was running down along the leather, and he took it out to wipe it off and catch his breath.

Ozriel held his hand. »Anything else, your Highness?«

He pulled up his slate. Only bruises. The were layered and many and they did hurt, he wouldn’t exactly be playing ball anytime soon, but they would be easier to bear day by day for as long as it took them to heal the natural way rather than all at once.

They had amply experimented on this when they were kids, on more harmless scrapes and bruises, so he was sure Ozriel understood.

They nodded, a small smile on their lips. »Alright. You’re dismissed, then, Doctor.«

The medic bowed. »Your Majesty… your Highness.« And then they disappeared, leaving them finally alone.

[heich0e]

you place one foot in front of the other on the curb before you, the toe of one shoe meeting the heel of the next. you move slowly, repeating the motions as you step a little further along the raised edge of concrete.

the air outside is cool, the breeze lifting the gauzy hem of your dress as it brushes past, and you can still hear the music from the party inside--close enough to the building not to feel as though you're entirely apart from it, but distant enough to catch your breath a little bit.

"you're gonna twist your ankle."

you look up and see issei slouched against the brick wall of the building, half-hiding in the night's shadow. his voice is gentle enough not to startle you, but you still pause when you notice him. you watch as he flicks a bit of ash off the end of his mostly-burned cigarette, and then takes another drag with his eyes still on you.

"am not," you counter indignantly, taking another careful step to spite him.

issei pushes himself off the wall, letting his cigarette drop to the ground and be crushed underfoot, and approaches where you're walking along the curb like a balance beam.

in spite of your confidence, when he's within arms reach you find yourself stumbling slightly; you teeter in your heels on the narrow strip of cement, and your hands fly out to balance yourself. mattsukawa catches your hands in his--warmer, larger than your own--and steadies you without missing a beat.

"told you," he says smugly, and your face scrunches up in annoyance.

he doesn't let go of your hands.

issei walks along with you, hands clasped in his, as you continue your tight-rope walk.

"so," he says as you step along, a little more surely now that he's there to guide you. to catch you on the off chance you should fall. "why aren't you inside?"

you hum contemplatively, fingers tightening around his for a moment when your heels wobble over a crack in the curb. "just needed a breather."

issei nods, like he understands. "lotta bodies in there, huh?"

"who would have thought oikawa and iwa even know so many people?" you echo his remark.

"who knew so many people like them enough to come all the way to miyagi just to see them get married," issei counters with a wry smile. you laugh, nodding in agreement.

"well, iwa i can understand, but tooru?"

mattsun chuckles, dipping his head in a affirmative nod.

you finally make it to the end of the curb, no more concrete left stretching ahead for you to travel, and issei stands before you with your hands still held in his own.

you blink up at him.

"i'm kind of annoyed you're still taller than me even in heels and on a curb."

he smirks. "get taller heels."

your lip curls at the corner, though it's in disdain rather than smugness. "shrink."

he laughs again, a real one this time. the kind of laugh that shows all his teeth. the one that makes your tummy pang a little bit.

once his laughter subsides, he fixes you in a look that feels out of place. too intimate for two people who are standing just outside of their best friends' wedding. too intense for people who aren't supposed to look at each other like that anymore.

"you look really pretty tonight," he says softly, as gentle as the evening breeze. it makes goosebumps prickle across your skin in the same way too.

"thanks," you say with a commensurate lightness.

"new dress?" he asks, letting his eyes wander down to trail over the garment you have on. you don't mind the way his gaze feesl as it traces over you.

"no," you say, your voice still barely above a whisper. his eyes flicker back up to yours.

inside the party, you hear the song change. it's an older tune, one that was popular when you were all in high school, high energy and electronic. there's a cheer from the partygoers as you assume they're all flocking to the dance floor. it's nostalgic. makes you think about your life when the song was still on the radio. listening to it through one headphone while issei listened through the other.

"we should get back inside." you pull your hands out of issei's grasp, stepping down from the curb and past him towards the door to the event venue.

issei's hand catches yours again just before you can retreat. you pause with your feet coming together, your arm stretched behind you towards him, your eyes still on the door.

"save a dance for me, okay?"

you force down the little smile that threatens to appear, swallowing back the butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

"alright," you reply, and then you peek back over your shoulder, "only if you make sure i don't twist my ankle."

he smiles, and lets your hand drop once more.

"yeah, i can do that."

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Break Me Down

Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: Angst, hurt/no comfort, slight smut

“We should forget this happened.”

It takes one sentence from him to ruin your time together and knock off the barely stable balance you had managed to keep over the last few days.

The news about Geto, his leaving, his murders, his execution notice, it all felt like a blur to your hazy and overstimulated mind. The words “kill on sight” haunt you even now.

Still, you realize it was definitely going to hurt Satoru even more, and you were the one who sought him out to ask how he was dealing with it all.

You feel stupid now for caring about what he was feeling beneath all the jokes and bravado. He’s not one for opening up, not to everyone truly, but he simply looked so unnervingly raw when you found him, stripped bare of happier emotion from head to toe, expression sunken, head low, and eyes dark.

It was obvious he was hurting, and you simply wanted to provide comfort. A small voice, asking how he was feeling because the look on his face was heartbreakingly sad. A warm body to hug his own because when you grabbed his hand it felt like burning in ice.

And really this is your fault for thinking all those little moments: all the jokes, the awkwardness you’d sense from him given the right look, how he’d tense and look like he swallowed a frog whenever you were left alone with him for too long meant anything. You never openly mentioned about it, but you had hoped there would be a little truth to the things others, mostly Geto, teased him about when it came to you. Just a little at least.

It all seems like a faraway dream instead of something that was happening only minutes ago, when everything seemed so warm but now he was being so cold. You want to scream but you don’t want him to have any more reason to leave.

“Gojo, please,” you start, unsure what you even wanted to say, and the words stick in your throat like glue.

“We both know this was a mistake.”

“We?" You'd scoff if you didn't think you'd start crying from the motion. "You’re the one who started this.”

“And I didn’t mean for this to happen, but it did,” he admits hollowly, blue eyes avoiding yours as he focuses his sights on the floor, refusing to look at you when only moments before those same eyes made you feel like the only one in the world. Foolish to think you’d be that important to someone like him.  

You grip the sheets tight under you, hoping to calm your tremors, but your voice still shakes. Gojo could’ve stopped before he enchanted you with his sweet kisses, before he stripped you bare, laid eyes on your naked form, and fucked you like he actually cared about you too.

“You had plenty of time to stop before now.”

“You're right. No argument there."

You’re not sure if he knows exactly how much he’s hurting you, how your heart is searing under your chest as if a hot poker was piercing through it, or if he’s trying to hurt you on purpose. If he was, it was working.

You feel so stupid falling for those disgustingly soft kisses on your skin, his arms wrapping around you, and the touch of his smooth fingers treading along your body.

You’re sniffling now, and you hate the feeling of being this pathetic in front of someone who used you. You hate the fact that you still love him when he finally braves meeting your puffy gaze. His face isn’t raw anymore, bare with a full display of emotions you’ve never seen from him. It’s closed, guarded, and you know there’s no way you will ever reach past the wall around him.

“Go, just, go. I don't want to see you.”

You hate it makes you want to cry more when he did.

[ravenzeppeli]

Claimed

Chapter 2- The Eavesdropping Blues |La Squadra x Reader|

Warning: implied sex, strong language, threats. MA.

Formaggios POV

"You don't fucking dress like that in public girl, what's wrong with you?" Formaggio faintly heard Prosciutto snap as he walked past your door, causing him to immediately freeze, his ear immediately pressing against the door. "You can wear a shirt that isn't low cut. Isn't it fucking winter?"

"Why do you have to judge what I wear?" You replied back, your voice sounding defeated. "You're being too bossy. We're supposed to be moving slowly, but you keep trying to control every little thing I do. I can wear what I want."

Formaggio heard Prosciutto scoff. "Take off the top and give it to me, I'll buy you a better top later. You can dress appealing without showing yourself to random men. Your body is only for our eyes."

"Don't you ever buy me anything, I don't need or want any of you buying me stuff. I can take care of myself completely fine," you snapped, heavy footsteps suddenly dashing across the floor. "Prosciutto, I want to keep the top. I'll cry if you take it."

"Oh really?" He snapped, a groan escaping his lips. "You are a dramatic girl, you know that? Fine, keep it, but if I catch you wearing that shirt in public, I'll spank you." That ending remark caused Formaggio to pause; does Prosciutto actually spank you?

You sighed, "Okay. I won't wear this specific shirt in public." The way you said that seemed suspicious like you already had a plan forming. You definitely were interesting, really weird, and you were hot.. Formaggio could kind of go with dating you, but he still wanted to watch ass shaking and get his dick sucked at the strip club. Out of respect to you, he'll wear a condom when random women suck him off, which he always did anyway.

"And you're going to have to spend my money. You are mine, meaning you spend my money and obey me. Women should obey." He heard a squeak of your bed. "Now, why don't you get over here and get on your knees? Be a good girl for me. Go ahead and take your top and bra off."

"Okay," you replied back, and with that, Formaggio quietly left, not wanting to hear you suck Prosciutto off. That's just too personal. "I'm not spending your money," he heard you say as he walked out the front door.

-----

"I love you so much, more than words could ever describe. You are just so fucking beautiful," Formaggio heard Melone say as he went to pass by the kitchen. That caused him to freeze, yet again listening in. He couldn't help it, he was fucking nosey. "Look at you.. you're so perfect. It goes deeper then your looks, I love your soul."

"Yeah, sure," you replied, your tone soft and caring despite the dry response. "You don't need to tell me lies, I'll keep sleeping with you. You don't have to keep going with all this."

"Women don't like me Y/N. I'm well aware that I'm a creepy and off-putting guy. All I get is rejected. You never rejected me," Melone told you, his voice gentle. "I've always wanted just one person to love.. and I told myself that when I find that person, my love would be strong and unconditional. You are that person, and in that, I will be loyal and loving to you."

Their was silence for a good minute before you finally replied, "You are all mafia men. You're all going to cheat on me and treat me bad, that's what your type does. You don't need to keep feeding me lies. I'm okay with what you are."

That offended Formaggio, what the fuck did you mean by that? Are you seriously going to judge them without knowing them? Melone was a fucking weird guy, he had a strong feeling that Melone was being serious. He never got lucky with women either, even the sex workers avoided Melone. Hell, the strippers refused to give him lap dances, he don't even go to the strip club anymore, only ever going three times and creeping the girls out to an extreme. Formaggio wondered, why doesn't Melone creep you out? Clearly you aren't right in the head, which was what Risotto had to find because no normal girl would fit in with them. But you seemed to.. kind of.

"I've already told you I'm going to be loyal, please don't label me. I really do love you and think you are beautiful, and I am glad you're my girlfriend," he quickly replied, this time having a sharpness in his tone. "You are mine, and I will protect you with my life. I've been so lonely, you know? I've been waiting for you, I truly feel like I have. I believe in soulmates."

"Well, I do like you. I can admit that, the others I don't really like yet," you told them, causing Formaggio to frown. "Well.. Formaggio is okay, but I know he's a dirt bag. But he is really funny." He raised his eyebrows - should he be offended or not? He wasn't a fucking dirt bag!

"You just need to get to know the others, I've seen you spend time with Prosciutto. Don't you like him?" Melone asked.

You let out a dry laugh, "no I don't like Prosciutto. He's so fucking bossy and annoying. I'm not an idiot, he's literally trying to train me like I'm some dog. I'm only physically attracted to him." You then sighed, seeming to be annoyed. "Listsn, I'm not the type of girl that won't listen to a man, I get that I sometimes gotta listen, but Prosciutto has weird rules."

"To be fair, baby, I also don't want you to go places by yourself. I don't mind how you dress. Men will always look at you, but I just want you safe, and I always want to know where you are. You're a part of this team now, and you may be an easy target," Melone told you. "I don't mean it like that.. you are strong, but men are viscous, especially men in this field. You can call me anytime you need to go somewhere or need anything. I would never get mad. You are my first priority now."

Melone was really laying it on hard for you. God, Melone was so weird, how did he already fucking dedicate himself to you? It's only been two weeks, Formaggio hardly even speaks to you, mainly just letting Melone and Prosciutto keep you. Well maybe his words would keep you here with them, Risotto keep saying he feels like you're going to try and run away from them.

Nobody would admit this, not even you - but the moment Risotto saw you, he was set on keeping you like he was always meant to find you and take you, claiming you as theirs. It was so easy too.. you were a petty criminal, had a stand, and it was obvious you had some understanding of the mafia. Risotto made it seem like he was asking you, but he was telling you that you now belonged to them. He did sweeten the deal, saying you would never be killed and that you would be safe and protected. He promised that you would have a stable job, knowing how hard it was for a criminal to find a stable job. You seemed to just say yes to him.. and then he kind of arranged you to be their girl.

Sharing a girl.. it's weird as fuck, but Formaggio can't find a girl to settle with. Prosciutto filed for his third divorce four years ago, and Ghiaccio doesn't even acknowledge the existence of women or any life outside of the team. Also.. they were assassins who killed people and committed terrible crimes. Some women knew of their reputation and avoided them. This seemed to be kind of work. With their busy schedules and hectic lives, a shared girlfriend seemed to make a little sense.

"Alright, Melone.. thanks," you told him dryly. "I do appreciate you very much. Thank you. You are easy to like," you told him, your tone softening up.

"I love you. You don't need to say it back. You don't need to love me for me to love you. I'm going out to do some research, want to come with me or stay here?" He questioned, a sigh escaping his lips. "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow, but I'll be texting you all day, and I'll call you tonight. Please try and answer, but I understand if you're busy."

"Be safe, alright?" You told him as he walked away, Formaggio quietly moving into hiding as Melone left out the front door. Formaggio waited a few minutes, wanting to approach you but stopping when Illuso swiftly entered the kitchen.

"Well, hello, Y/N, don't you look like a cute little girl today?" Illuso questioned, his tone even giving Formaggio the creeps, Illuso was a sick fuck, probably worse then Melone but he hides his urges. "Look at you.. come here, let me get a good look at you girl."

Formaggio let himself peak around the wall, seeing Illuso snake his hands around you, rubbing all over your back, side, his hungry eyes on you. "I am not a little girl, okay? I am an adult."

"Well, you're 12 years younger than me, and look at how short you are. I honestly love your full cock sucking lips the most, you suck dick great," Illuso commented, his hands landing on your ass, you just seemed to stare up at him. "I've had my dick sucked a lot, you definitely are number one. Good girl."

You crossed your arms over your chest as Illusos hand roughly smacked against your ass, a loud pop sound filling the air as you crashed into Illusos chest, his arms tightly locking around you. "I literally don't care. Why are you telling me this? Go away." He smacked your ass again, this time tightly grasping your ass cheek. "What do you want?"

"I came in here to grab a beer, wanted to feel you up first. What's so bad about that? You don't mind, right? I mean, I'm your boyfriend after all, are you uncomfortable?" Illuso questioned, his tone taunting. "Or are you scared of me? Scared I'll do whatever I please with you?"

"Risotto said you can't kill me," you snapped at Illuso, a chuckle escaping his lips. "I'm not scared of you at all, Illuso. You don't scare me one bit."

"Aw, I don't wanna ever kill you, that would be a waste of a good throat," he told you, causing you to frown, attempting to back away from him, causing his grasp to tighten. "But I will punish you if you aren't a good girl. Got that? And I'll punish you real hard." He let you go, only to grab your wrist, grasping it tightly. "Don't be stupid.. don't step out of line."

He let you go, walking past you as he opened the fridge. "Oh, and I'm about ready to fuck that pussy so get ready for that. I'm getting bored of just head, and I'm dying to see how that ass looks." He grabbed a beer, closing the fridge as he walked away, leaving before you could reply.

-----

"You don't have a say in any fucking thing, you're lucky I even let you have a say in yourself," Prosciutto snapped at you, causing you to glare at him. "Don't you glare at me. You did something bad! You do not leave this base without telling someone!"

Now, usually, you just got quiet and let Prosciutto run all over you for these past going on three weeks, but you seemed to be feeling extra feisty today because your reply was actually insane. The fact that you had the balls to say this to Prosciuttos' face without running away impressed Formaggio.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, my husband? My owner? I don't see a ring on my finger, I don't see a fucking stamp on me that says I need to listen to you!" You snapped at Prosciutto, causing Risotto to immediately look up at you. "Like, what the fuck is your problem with me?"

Prosciutto immediately stood up, swiftly approaching you. As he raised his hand, Melone stood up, stepping in front of you. "Don't hit her! She's new to this Prosciutto, just ease up on her a little. It's hard for her to adjust to being with all of us.. don't be mean to her."

Formaggio smirked a little. He couldn't help it, knowing that you may be smarter than everyone thinks. You've been observing them, he noticed that, and in that he noticed you and Melone becoming inseparable. He protected you, defended you - Melone was your pass to permanent survival here, and it was clear that you took notice to him.

Melone was.. he was a nerd, a creepy nerd. He's done sick things to mainly women, and even before he joined the team, he had a problem with killing women who rejected him and laughed at him. You never once laughed at him or called him a creep, instead sitting and talking with him, even accepting him. That's all you had to do.. with being the first chick to accept Melones weird ass you now have a permanent bodyguard. Formaggio sure as fuck wouldn't protect you, it ain't his job, he's just here for the pussy. But it was obvious that Melone and Prosciutto wanted more then pussy. Melone wanted love. What the fuck did Prosciutto want from you?

"Goddamnit, Melone, she isn't just your girlfriend!" Prosciutto snapped, glaring at Melone, his hands balling into fists. "She has a smart ass mouth and deserves to be smacked! Move Melone, let me discipline her as I please!"

You started to slowly back away, the two bickering men not noticing as you slowly began to backward walk towards the front door, seeming as if you were about to leave. Risotto suddenly stood up, causing you to freeze as he walked over to you. He grabbed your wrist, dragging you over to the couch and sitting you down next to Ghiaccio and right next to Risotto.

"Where did you go?" Risotto asked you, suddenly pausing as he leaned closer towards you, getting in your face. "Why do you smell like a skunk? What's that strong smell?"

You leaned back, and your back firmly pressed up against the back of the black leather couch. "It's weed, I went to go pick up some weed."

"From a man?" Risotto questioned, his tone hard. You didn't answer, instead looking down. "Strike one, don't let me get to strike three. If you want weed, one of us will get it for you. You aren't to associate with other men in the mafia outside of us unless necessary. Let this be your only warning."

"Risotto, that isn't fair," you muttered, your eyes staying on the ground. "I should be able to get my own weed. You're taking away all of my freedom. This isn't what I agreed to."

Risotto sat back. "It doesn't matter what you agreed to. You are our girlfriend now, meaning you need to show respect when respect is requested. You need to respect Prosciutto as much as you respect me."

"But I don't like Prosciutto!" You snapped at Risotto, immediately causing Prosciutto to turn towards you. "Nothing personal."

"Oh, you don't like me!? Really!? You don't fucking like me!?" Prosciutto snapped, glaring down at you. "You're lucky that Melone is here.. you are so fucking lucky. Because I assure you nobody else will protect you. You're nothing but a toy to us."

"A toy that most of you can't operate," you calmly replied back, causing Formaggios mouth to hang open slightly. Goddamn you were brave as fuck to say that.

"Who!?" Illuso snapped, that remark getting his attention. "Girl, you better watch what you fucking say to us. You could get knocked out."

"I'll hit you back," you replied back even calmer, causing Illusos face to suddenly harden. "You can't do anything to me that hasn't already been done you fucking idiot. Even if you were to kill me, I wouldn't give a fuck." You looked at Illuso, an actual smile appearing on your lips- damn, you hardly smiled. "Because I would be dead. So how about you and Prosciutto leave me the fuck alone? I don't give a fuck about what either one of you have to say."

"Y/N you gotta shut the fuck up babe," Formaggio finally added in, trying to help you. He knew he said that he would never help you but you were saying some wild shit. "You keep saying things that'll get you smacked, so maybe just shut up." He didn't wanna smack you, he knew you weren't talking about him, but Prosciutto and Illuso wanted to hurt you.

You looked over at Formaggio, blinking as you stared at him. "Fine, whatever," you replied, seeming to calm yourself down a little. "It's just not fair."

Pesci got up suddenly, immediately walking out the front door. Prosciutto gave you a deadly glare before following behind Pesci.

"Y/N, please baby, you need to just.. why did you say most of us can't operate you? What does that even mean?" Melone questioned as he sat next to Illuso. "Did you just insult our sexual abilities?" He frowned, seeming upset.

"I wasn't insulting you," you told him, instantly causing him to calm down. "I was insulting Prosciutto and the guy next to you." Just as you said that, Illuso leaned forward, his large arm stretching out as be roughly smacked your thigh, you hardly mustering up a flinch, instead rolling your eyes. "Okay, sorry."

Melone seemed annoyed by Illuso smacking your thigh, but he said nothing due to your reaction, instead giving you a smile. "Excellent. Now, let's put this behind us and move on. Okay?"

"What do you gotta say about all this Ghiaccio?" Illuso asked, his eyes landing on Ghiaccio who hasn't said a word since you've stepped in the door.

Ghiaccio didn't look up from his computer, shrugging. "Fuck if I care," he replied, his eyes finally glancing over at you, being unreadable. "Can we just get on with this? I'd like to be home before the fucking sun sets." He looked away from you as your head turned to look at him, his dark eyes swiftly cutting back to his computer, ignoring your gaze.

[lunaekalenda]

Hi An I hope you’re doing well and I’ve been feeling hurt, sad, depressed, and wished I could disappear due to losing my new job after two weeks and no longer want to find work anymore especially with the repeated rejections in the past year. Can I request a hurt/comfort/fluff one-shot of Eren x Fem!Reader where Y/N shuts herself in hers and Erens dark shared bedroom with the door locked sobbing uncontrollably in bed wrapped in a blanket covering her figure and head/face and wishing she could be erased from the world after repeated rejections from getting a job she wanted. Then, Eren tries to get Y/N to open the door and begging her to let him in despite her refusal causing him to worry more for her safety, well-being, and making sure she’s not hurting herself until Eren finds a spare key in his pocket to let himself in before he stripped out of his clothes and underwear before climbing into bed to comfort Y/N and cradle her in his naked body. As Eren lifted a part of the blanket off Y/Ns face, he tearfully begs Y/N not to harm herself, how he doesn’t want to be alone without her, and reminds her how much he loves her especially reassuring her there are places for her where she can work before showering her with kisses and rocking her to help her feel better. Finally after Eren calms Y/N down, he laid Y/n down on his bare chest and tells her that even if she was let go, there’s still hope she’ll find work again and he doesn’t want her to kill herself before comforting her with her favorite lullaby to help her rest? Thank you -🌼

hey!! i'm sorry you're going such tough times, and i hope it gets better for you soon! i'm sure you'll be able to recover and keep going, and you're strong to do so! never lose hope, i'm sure a lot of people (including me) are cheering for you!! you're very loved and very much capable and talented! i hope this helps even a little bit <3

warnings: non-sexual nudity, mentions of self harm, intrusive thoughts, anxiety, panic attack. be careful with reading the first paragraphs, as they have strong self-consciousness and negative thoughts that could affect anyone on a crisis. if you wanna read the comfort directly, jump to the red dot.

Your house was silent. Maybe that was the trigger.

Eren had the blinds down, as he usually does when he leaves, and the darkness of the room made you sadder. Alone, silent and dark. Your home was exactly how you felt. You really wanted that job, and still, you were unable to get it. Taking the big grey blanket that Eren bought for you some time ago, and getting changed into your sleeping clothes, you let your fluffy bed hug your body sweetly, covered by the soft fabric, but still it wasn't enough. You still felt the cold on the inside.

You felt how the rejection took root on your heart, and a tree of thoughts started to grow from it. What if you were not enough? If they didn't see you capable? If they didn't trust your works? If they didn't like you? Is anybody going to accept you anywhere?

You take the blanket above your head, covering your shining cheeks, where tears run down quickly. Getting rejected more than once isn't easy to assimilate. Your head hurts from crying and you close your eyes. The world feels way too heavy for you right now, and you wish that burden was taken off your shoulders. You don't know how many time you've been crying, and you don't know when you fell asleep during it.

.

You hear knocks, followed by your name, in Eren's voice. He knocks again, but you don't feel strong enough to stand up and open the door. Your muscles feel tired and your head feels dizzy. Your eyes start to close again, but your hear a key against the door, Eren's steps inside the room, the light from the corridor filling the bedroom. Eren walks quickly towards you, kneeling by your side. He takes a bit of the blanket away, checking your face. Your eyes are swollen from crying and they search his slowly. He smiles softly when your eyes meet his.

"What happened, love?" he asks in low voice, no more than a whisper. You take your body to your side of the bed, and he understands what you mean. Undressing quickly, Eren takes the blanket and slides next to you, taking your body on a hug, his warm skin calming your muscles. You sigh against his body. His hands run over your thighs, your arms ad your back. He caresses you as he lets you speak.

"I got rejected for that work. Again." just remembering it makes you feel miserable again, but you feel his lips pressed on top of your head. His hug gets tighter as his caresses are still sweet on your skin. "I don't know what fails... I have a nice portfolio, I have nice reviews from my past jobs, I always try to answer correctly at all the interview questions for what? To get rejected again and again and again and cry and see someone get the job I've been fighting so hard for." Tears are unstoppable again when he kisses your head again.

"Love. If they didn't get you, it's not your fault. You're incredible, and all your past bosses say the same about you. I'm sure there are a hundred jobs made for you. I know you really wanted this job, but they're the ones losing. Show them who you are. Make them search you. Make them beg you to join. Andm, if that isn't the case, I'm sure you'll enjoy your new work so much you wont' have time to think about the one that rejected you." he takes a tear away with his thumb, feeling how your erratic breath starts to follow his, and he sighs. "You're amazing, and no one, specially an interviewer. should tell you otherwise."

Then, he takes his time to kiss every one of your tears until they stop falling, to rock your body slowly until your breath calms down, to hear every single one of your thoughts and reassure you that there's a lot of people who loves you, who enjoy being by your side, and who feel lucky to have you in their lives.

"And I'm the first one of that list." he whispers. "I don't know where I would be without you, and I'm sure I wouldn't be the man I am today without you. That's your magic. You make people better. You make people happy, loved, cherished. And you should get the same back."

Your eyes feel quite heavy from all the tiredness of crying, and you let your body meet his, more comfortable and more warm. You whisper against his chest. "Thank you. For everything."

As a response, he sings your favorite lullaby for you, keeping the rhythm with soft caresses on your back, until you feel asleep on his arms.

[wellthebardsdead]

Flynt: *spent the last 30 years of his life, blind, almost mute, homeless and starving, just ready to give to give up on life but still tapping his rusty old tankard on the cobblestone to beg for anything* …hungry… foo-d…

Estormo: *walking past to the city gates to head for skyrim only to freeze upon recognising the bosmers face…* you- *remembers the fear in his eyes as he severed the tendons and muscles in his tongue, and how he pleaded to him with his eyes before he blinded him with acid* i- it’s really you…

Flynt: *whole body going into complete fight or flight remembering his voice* nA-Ghhh h-hewp! He-lllrp! *starts crawling away spilling the few coins he had from his tankard on the ground*

Estormo: *walks to him slowly* this is how the empire treats their veterans then?… left homeless and begging after everything you went through?… *sighs lifting the bosmer up, feeling genuine guilt for the pain he caused him but repulsed by the smell the 30 years of neglect had left on the poorly little elf* No matter- *coughs* the dominion always provides…

*a few hours later*

Flynt: *frightened out of his mind, being stripped naked from his rags by the very elf who’d tortured him decades ago* h-hewp! Hewp me! P-pwease!!

Estormo: I am helping you if you’d just hold still- *tugs on flynts loin cloth*

Flynt: MO! *suddenly bites him with the ferocity of a bear*

Estormo: FUCK!!! *tries to push him off only for the bosmer to sink his teeth in deeper* LET! GO! *punches him hard over the head*

Flynt: *seeing stars, let’s go and falls onto the hard floor hitting his head further* nngh-nn-nmm- nnno…

Estormo: *looks at the wound before seeing what he’d done* oh- oh no… no I’m sorry… *lifts the smaller elf up* don’t bite me anymore okay?… I’m trying to help you- *pulls the cloth away before putting the wood elf in a tub of warm soapy water* just let me… help…

Flynt: *tears pouring down his face as he clings to consciousness* h-hate… you…

*a few weeks later*

Flynt: *seated in estormos room in the thalmor embassy, trying to eat his food and struggling badly, tongue unable to assist him in swallowing or chewing anymore making him dribble*

Estormo: *sighs and grabs his head again wiping his face* can you be any more repulsive?! Just tilt your head back to swallow damn it.

Flynt: i-i choke…

Estormo: ‘I’ll choke.’ ‘I’ll’, honestly it’s like you’re not even trying to get better! *wipes his face again* Stop drooling like a mutt damn it.

Flynt: *flinches and starts crying again out of complete fear and helplessness, feeling so afraid and humiliated beyond words and couldn’t convey it even if he tried*

*A few days later*

Flynt: *somehow managed to escape the thalmor embassy only to tumble down the hill and fall into the river leading from the solitude bay towards Markarth and somehow end up all the way in the rift, only to end up on a cart bound for Helgen after being mistaken for a prisoner* wh-where am i?…

Ralof: hey you, you’re finally awake…

[pigeonwhumps]

Blackmail

Finding Safety masterlist

Whump Girl Summer day 6: Blackmail

Taglist: @littlespacecastle @whumpymirages @flowersarefreetherapy @painful-pooch (plus @justplainwhump bc you've been waiting for this)

While at university in Canada, Aaliyah is forcefully reminded of her past as a pet.

Set a few years after Cass and Aaliyah move to Canada. Aaliyah's in her second year.

1.8k

CWs: BBU, pet whump, rape/non-con, sexual slurs, flashbacks, conditioned whumpee, degradation, self-degradation, blackmail, non-con nude photos, discrimination, briefly implied homophobia, dehumanisation

Aaliyah closes her laptop and removes her headphones, stretching widely. She's enjoying researching for this essay but despite her ability to stay in one place for hours at a time she's getting stiff. And her ears are aching.

Her roommate Zac looks up from his own textbook. "You want to take a break? We have plenty of time."

She picks up her tablet and chooses her words from the symbols. Zac waits patiently, something he's good at and which she's always grateful for, given how some people act about her AAC software.

"Get water. Will be quick."

"Take as long as you need, I'll look after your stuff."

"Thank you."

She heads out of the library and crosses the corridor to the water fountain, drinking as much as she can and splashing a little on her face too. It feels nice.

She hears footsteps behind her and moves out of the way in case whoever it is wants to use the water fountain.

They don't. Instead, they bark out an order.

"Respect."

Aaliyah drops to her knees before she even knows what's happening. No, this can't happen here. She didn't even realise she still did that.

She tries to get up but her body's locked. If she gets up before Master says she can–

No. No, she's not there, she's safe, Master isn't here. He never will be.

So why can't she move?

"I thought so," says a confident, sneering voice from behind her. "See, my cousin's studying in the States, and his frat house just bought a box boy. So cute and eager to please. Combination of some sort, I think. Apparently you're not gay if it's a boxie you're fucking. Anyway, he showed me their pet on a video call and it's funny. The way you cock your head, your inability to read and write, and you always cover your left forearm, no matter how warm it is or what else you're wearing. You're a WRU slut, aren't you?"

Aaliyah doesn't respond. She doesn't reach for her tablet, or move her head, or try to get up. She can't do anything, and that's probably enough of an indictment by itself.

"I knew it." The voice is gleeful now, and he grabs her arm in a bruising grip, pulling her up and pushing her along. "Disabled restroom should be free, right?"

Distantly, Aaliyah realises she should resist. Master isn't here anymore to make her do this. She doesn't want to do this.

But she's not a person. And it has never mattered what she wants.

The boy shoves her into the bathroom and she tumbles to the floor, ending up sprawled on the tiles.

She hears the lock click with a dreadful finality.

"Now, I don't know any of the positions, but I want you on your hands and knees. I'm sure you know how to do that, at least. Oh yeah. And strip."

Aaliyah obeys with shaking hands, throat tight. She wishes the floor wasn't so white and the light wasn't so bright, it reminds her too much of the facility.

She flushes as he looks her up and down. She's not sure how he knows her, but she recognises him from somewhere. The name will come eventually, she thinks.

She doesn't want him seeing her. This isn't like when she plays with Cass and Calixte, this is different, it's like she's a pet again.

No, not just a pet. Owned.

"You really are hot. No wonder you volunteered to be a slut, your looks are your best asset. I don't see why you hide them, I mean most Romantics don't, right? They seduce and manipulate using them. Your looks might not be your very best asset though, I think I'd like to try you out now. You're bottoming, obviously. Let's see how good a slut you can be for me."

Aaliyah holds back her tears as the boy climbs on top of her. She's been taught how to hide her emotions, she's an expert at it, and she blinks her eyelashes seductively at him as he positions her to his liking. She ends up on her back, legs spread between his. He looks at her like she's a banquet.

"Oh, you really are a nice-looking pet. Keep your eyes on me, I want to see your face while I fuck you. I hear you Romantics are trained to love your owners, and really, that sounds ideal."

He's not her owner. He's not. But as he opens the lube in his pocket and slicks her up, teasing her with his finger, she finds that difficult to remember.

He positions himself and slides his cock inside with a wink. Fuck. She hates this. She wishes she could go back to not caring, but now she knows what it's like not to have to do this, not to believe it's all she's worth, not to have an owner (and that's the most important thing she's learnt, and the most painful), it seems impossible to do. The boy isn't her owner, but he feels that way.

So many people fucked her in training, and then there was Jacob, too, so maybe it doesn't matter if he's her owner anyway. She's a WRU slut at heart, after all, and with her owner gone it would make sense that she's a general slut for everyone now.

No... no, that wouldn't make sense. Not the way she'd like. She has Cass and Calixte, although she doesn't want to think of them right now, doesn't want them associated with this.

She buries her emotions deep down where they can't show, covering her anger and sorrow and utter terror with a veil of pleasure. She desperately wants to curl up in a ball and cry it out but she can't. She has to behave, and do what she was made to do.

She's a good pet at heart, after all.

He fucks into her, not caring how she feels about it, and she turns the small moans and sobs that escape into sounds of enjoyment.

"Oh, you're so good at this pet, my god. Keep doing that, this is good."

Aaliyah wants to stop. Just stop, stop giving him this, stop giving in, kick him and stop him from ever doing it again. But she's a good pet, so she won't. The lights are bright and it's so white and she knows she can't disobey or she'll get shocked. The handlers will use their batons if she fights back.

No. No, she's not there, she's free. Free and still a pet and still being fucked against her will.

A hand slaps her cheek, the stinging pain bringing her back to the present.

"Hey. Bitch. Don't zone out on me now, I was enjoying your attention."

Aaliyah bats her eyelids and does what she should. It hurts, but she's made to take that, so she does, even if she desperately wishes she was somewhere else. Anywhere else.

Almost anywhere.

It seems like an eternity before he comes inside her, which is usually permission for her to orgasm too. The boy sighs blissfully and withdraws.

"You are an excellent pet slut." He does up his trousers and pulls his phone out of his pocket, cocky grin back on his face. "Just gotta do something."

Later Aaliyah will wish she had punched him or covered her face or run or something, but right now she just lets herself be manouvred. She's a pet, she doesn't have any free will, and anyway she can't bring herself to move. It's all too much, all over again. He takes photos of her face and her barcode and the two together, and other parts too, making it very clear who and what she is, and what she's done.

"Nice photos. I won't share them so long as you don't tell anyone about this. And, well. I might come up with more terms later. Gotta finish college before I can move and get a Romantic of my own, after all. Do we have a deal?"

Aaliyah nods, barely keeping the tears at bay. How did she end up like this?

"Great. See ya."

He stalks out of the bathroom without so much as a backward glance, and Aaliyah locks the door again before sinking to the floor. Now, the tears come. They can, now he's gone, she doesn't need to keep such a tight rein on her emotions now she's alone.

She didn't... how did this happen? How could she let something like this happen? She's not a person, this is a clear reminder of that, because a person wouldn't be so useless. They wouldn't have a barcode that makes them so easy to control. Master's dead and she's still a pet, still owned in every sense except the completely literal one. She scrunches up under the sink, giving herself a few minutes to cry messily, snottily. Not silently pretty, as a Romantic should.

She takes a deep breath, then another. Then she gets up and leans over the sink, scrubbing her face, wiping away the tears, making her eyes less puffy.

Maybe Zac will assume she's had a panic attack and not ask too many questions. She hopes so.

She dresses hurriedly with shaking hands, wanting nothing more than to go home and curl up in Cass' arms. But she can't do that, because then he'd ask and she'd tell him and she can't risk those photos being shared.

As a pet, she's not allowed wants anyway.

She brushes herself down, takes another deep breath, and heads back out.

Zac spots her as she re-enters the library and frowns. As soon as she's close enough, he murmurs, "Are you okay?" She nods. She's fine, she always is. "Okay. If you say so. Another half hour, then we'll go get food?" She nods again. She's in no shape to use her tablet to communicate right now. Zac squeezes her shoulder and looks back down at his textbook, frowning thoughtfully and highlighting another line.

Aaliyah opens up her laptop and puts on her headphones, pressing play. She prepares to draw down her notes and bookmark the sections she needs for her essay.

It's hard, so much harder than earlier. She was enjoying it before but now she can barely concentrate. Her head swims as she tries to settle back into the research. She has to rewind the audio of her textbook several times as she zones out, constantly replaying the last half hour or so. It hurts, physically, mentally, everything, she was hoping she'd never feel that hurt again.

She's useless. She can't concentrate, can't even read or write. She doesn't know things that everyone else finds obvious, that they all stare at her for not understanding. She's trying, she really is, but she's hopeless at it.

She's been pretending to be a person for a while now, but she's not. She never will be. She's a pet, and that's all she'll ever be.

[larz-barz]

HIII CAN I GET A MUISATO?? (Maybe an AU of their young selfs?) And can you make a bad ending but really romantic one, like ex: “muichiro dies while holding kurisato’s necklace” or like “kurisato died thinking muichiro’s safe even though he wasn’t” or something that can actually tear me up since I feel like crying today🤭 btw kurisato’s young self has long brown hair with yellow strips of hair, and golden yellow eyes🙇 (make muichiro 10, kurisato is 11) and yes, can’t forget personality- kurisato is mostly calm, muichiro is mostly happy and cheerful, both of them don’t yell much, or never yelled, so just make them both lose temper-(I’m sorry if this is to much to ask for😭) and yes you can add your oc’s to this story👍

THANK YOU MILO🙏‼️

okkk!! i gotchuuu!!<333

——————————————————————————

The necklace

——————————————————————————

Kurisato had been staying with the Tokito twins for the past few days.

This night seemed to have an ominous aura to it.

It started with Muichiro and Yuichiro arguing over whether or not they could be demon slayers.

Kurisato’s eyes fluttered open.

A mysterious figure stood at the door.

“Mui.. Yui..” She muttered, her heart rate speeding up.

The 2 boys woke up at the sound of her panicked voice.

They shot up at the sight of the mysterious figure.

“Kuri stay back..” Yuichiro spat out as he and Muichiro watched the figure, both keeping their guard up.

She frowned, she’s the older one, she should be protecting them.

“No. I’m older, the 2 of you need to stay back.” She said, coldly, getting in front of the 10 year old twins.

Muichiro frowns, getting angry at her persistence.

Kurisato always did this no matter what.

She always thought that since she’s the oldest of the 3 that she has to be the one to protect them.

“Kuri, let us protect you for once! Or better yet, let’s protect each other!!” He yelled angrily, making Kurisato spin around angrily.

“It’s my job to protect the 2 of you! I’m the oldest so it’s my responsibility!” She yelled back.

The figure took this as a chance to attack the 11 year old girl.

She screamed in pain. Blood spurted out of her back and dripped to the floor. “Kuri!!” Muichiro shrieked, dropping to the floor to check on her.

Before the demon could strike her once again, Yuichiro jumped in front of his brother and Kurisato.

Muichiro could see the girl’s breathing slow and tears entered his eyes.

He looked up at the sound of Yuichiro’s scream of pain.

He was too shocked to say anything as his brother’s left arm flew back into the wall, separate from the boy’s body.

He laid Kurisato down by Yuichiro and he fought against the monster, showing no mercy.

He lured it outside and managed to distract it until the sun started to rise, killing it quickly.

He slowly stumbled back to his and Yuichiro’s house, seeing his and Kurisato’s bodies where he’d left them.

He fell to the ground to check and see if they were still alive or not.

Yuichiro was but barely.

Kurisato however, wasn’t alive anymore.

“She told me to tell you she wants you to have her necklace, and she loves you..” Yuichiro muttered weakly.

Muichiro hugged Yuichiro tiredly, tears filling his mint green eyes.

He could no longer feel Yuichiro’s breath against his cheek.

Muichiro pulled away, eyes wide, and he screamed when he realized he had lost his brother and his long time crush to the same vicious monster.

As requested by Kurisato, Muichiro carefully unclasped the necklace that hung around her neck and put it on himself.

——————————————————————————

Approximately 4 years after that fateful day, the day that changed Muichiro Tokito for life, he found himself facing off against his ancestor, Kokushibo.

He fought for his and everyone else’s lives till the very end.

Kokushibo landed the finishing blow on the mist hashira.

Muichiro died slowly and painfully.

His final words that he uttered as his life force ebbed from his grasp were, “I love you too, Kurisato Tsuko..”

He died grasping necklace of the girl he loved.

~the end~

A/n: I hope this pleases you!<33

[kittenchancorruptionarc]

Derek wasn’t sure how much more he could take from Fox’s…strange fanbase. He didn’t mind stripping naked for his unhinged chat members, it fed into the pride he has for his body further really…but being forced to slice his wrist open?!

These people are fucking INSANE!

Good thing the beastkin kept an emergency first aid kit in his streaming room, as the blonde quickly grabbed it and tore into it as he took out some rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and gauze.

He got to work on patching up his wound, not wasting ANY time so he wouldn’t potentially bleed out. Thanks to Derek often being on babysitting duty for his siblings when he was younger, he’s got some decent first aid knowledge…

He sighed in relief after the treatment worked, despite the rubbing alcohol making him hiss and swear under his breath. But…

God, his wrist still hurt like a BITCH.

“You…you mother FUCKERS…” Derek spat at the chat, grabbing his scattered clothes as he sloppily threw them back onto his body “You’re all fucking PSYCHOTIC! Yeah…I’m fuckin’ done here. Thanks for the money though, assholes!~ Might get myself another car since my last one got totaled…stupid fucking cunt didn’t use her turn signal…”

He went to open the door to make his way back to the elevator, and to the waiting room and act like nothing EVER happened here. “Just make up some shitty excuse for the cut, sliced myself on the chair or somethin’…”

Before the bratty man could make his great escape, a silhouette had already opened the door and was glaring at him from the doorway, making his blue eyes WIDEN as his heart sank to his stomach. Judging that the shadowy figure was VERY short with noticeable fluffy ears on the top of his head…

There’s no doubt this was Fox. He’s been caught red handed.

Oh shit.

“U-Uh…h-hi!!” The bottle blonde stuttered out “I was just…c-checking this place out because I was bored! That’s all!”

“Hmm…” Fox’s voice BOOMED across the room “Really now? Because…” He started to walk closer to the other, effectively backing him up against a wall as he held up what appeared to be his cellphone in the boy’s face “I have evidence that says otherwise, Goffard.”

The older man’s clawed finger tapped on a random app icon as Derek’s activities on the stream are revealed to be archived, he quickly scrolled past everything he’s done including the forced self harm, the stripping game…everything. He turned pale, his pupils dilating, sweat beading down his face…

Oh, he’s SO FUCKED.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself, young man?” Fox put his phone away and crossed his arms, looking unamused at the others actions. “Are you just going to stand there and cry like you ALWAYS do when you get caught pulling your bullshit? Hmm…or maybe…you’ll actually act like an adult take some responsibility for once?”

“Um…I…g-Well…” Derek stuttered before his flight response kicked in “Uhhh…THINK FAST!” He used his tanned fingers to pull back the beastkins suspenders and let them SLAP harshly against his nipple areas, making him let out a loud groan in pain and grab onto his chest as the other FLED into the hallway, the stench from the cells not even bothering him anymore as he was just focused on getting the HELL out of there as he ran and ran…

Before he felt a strong, familiar hand tightly grip onto his shoulder that made him stop in his tracks. When he turned, he found out that hand belonged to his father, Mr. Goffard.

Oh…

OH GOD NO.

“H…Hi dad!!!” Derek stuttered “U-um…I wasn’t doing ANYTHING!! Don’t listen to w-what that old fuck says to y-yo-“

“Can it, boy.” His voice was gruff, stern, you could tell he wasn’t having ANY of his sons bullshit today. “I already know what you’ve been up to in there. I’m not believing anything YOU tell me this time. Care to explain yourself?”

“W-WELL YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TAKEN SO GODDAMN LONG IN THAT MEETING! GOD, YOU ALWAYS DRAG ME HERE THEN EXPECT ME TO DO NOTHING! I’M NOT A FUCKING ROBOT DA-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, DEREK!” He grabbed the boy by his shirt collar “YOU THINK THAT’S A DAMN PROPER EXCUSE TO STRIP DOWN AND SHOW EVERYONE YOUR-“

“GENTLEMEN, GENTLEMEN, PLEASE!”

Fox SHOUTED from across the hall, making his way to the arguing father-son pair as he tried his best to diffuse the situation to an extent. “I believe you’ve scolded your son enough, Mr. Goffard. Let’s calm down…” Derek’s father sighed and put him down, his son taking in deep breaths due to how his shirt collar choked him as his dad turned to the other “You’re right, sorry about that. You know I get…frustrated with him easily.”

“Mhmm, I’m very much aware of that. Let’s focus more on…

Deciding what his punishment shall be for making a mockery on MY livestreams, shall we?”

“Mm…good idea.”

The two towered over Derek, their eyes piercing into him as a nervous smiling formed on his lips.

“H…hah…oh I’m fucking SCREWED.”

EVENT END.

((I’ll let you all use your imagination on what Derek’s punishment is! I think it’ll be much more fun that way. Any asks that mention your own interpretation on his fate will be correct ;] ))

[jing-yuans-wife]

This is my final commission to @allofroti

I enjoyed writing this and I will never let anyone dampen my writing spirit. Thank you for supporting me and loving my writing, even if it had few errors in it. Thank you for supporting all four brothers in these commissions not just one or the other. I really feel honored to have supporters like you and many who encourage and are just as thrilled when reading my content. Thank you so much!

🥹 Now on with the final piece of work.

The early hours of the morning, this is the time when everyone in New York are still out and about having the time of their lives. The dark hours are however, the time when crime takes place as well. Thieves, murderers and even petty pick pockets are waiting in the shadows for the next victim.

Thanks to the four protectors of the City, these villains could never make ends meet. It was thanks to the leader in Blue, that the crime rate in the city had all but declined. This City was at Its safest thanks to Leonardo Hamato and his brothers, these four scout the streets almost 24/7. The brothers almost never sleep, until they know that no crime is left unattended they never fully rest.

At the end of a long night, all Leo could think of was calling up Y/n.

Finally when you arrived, it was quiet in the lair. Having no idea what Leonardo was up to, you could only hope it was not too over the top. However a small part of you actually needed him to just go over the top, you were touch starved. These past few weeks have been brutal on your nerves. Your boyfriend was the only one who really knew how to help ease your nerves.

Once you get inside his room that you both share, there was this scent that you couldn't explain. You wanted to turn the lights on, but a hand gently grabbed your outstretched wrist."Ah my lovely flower~. Shall I help you relax a little bit as usual?~." He asked you in such a sweet yet sensual voice, the sound always sends shivers up your spine everytime. Your body decided to betray you and just follow his every move. Once you were sitting on the rather comfortable bed, your vision was temporarily obstructed by what you can only think was a blindfold. Your wrists tied and forced above your head, his love for Shibari was what attracted you to him. He knew how not to hurt you, yet knew how to restrain you.

The next phase was something that took you by surprise, he slowly strips you until nothing remains. Your back was soon pinned to the bed and the feeling of something rather large entering you, this was so sudden yet so pleasurable that tears started streaming down your face. The tears were not from pain, oh no these tears were from pure pleasure. His soft warm lips felt kissing away the tears while he slowly pumps his erection in a teasing motion, the sensation was just too much that you whined at how he was teasing you.

A low chuckle was heard from him,"Whats wrong baby?~, can't handle sensei anymore?~." He churred in your ear so close that his warm breath tickled your neck.

"Faster please Sensei. I want more Im begging you!." Were the only words that your mind could come up with.

"As you wish my loyal student~." Were his last words before you were all but railed. Your cries of ecstasy, echoes inside almost every corner near Leonardos room.

It was later after your rather heated session, he takes you to have a relaxing warm bath. With him sitting next to the bathtub, he rubs your neck gently and makes sure that you are in no way stressed out. He believes in very good aftercare and loves you so much, he would do anything to help satisfy his 'Flower' as he calls you affectionately.

🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡🍡

@dilucsflame33

@doctorelleth

@tinkabelle19

@turtle-babe83 @crazysarah-98

[cloudspotterclub]

damaged (s.c.)

Pairing: injured!shang-chi x reader

Summary: You didn't know how much of Shaun's past he'd hidden from you until you got a call that your boyfriend was in the hospital.

Word Count: 943

Warnings: whump, angst, fluff, sort of hurt/comfort?

a/n: I had a dream about Shang-Chi and I am now soft for this man. This is basically what might've happened if the bus fight had gone worse.

"Oh my God, Shaun!" You gasped quietly, your hand shooting up to cover your mouth.

"That you, baby?" He groaned, trying to shift his body to face you.

You rushed to the side of his bed, gently pushing him back down. It killed you to see him like this—so battered and beaten and different. Not cracking corny jokes and being your hype man, but lying in a hospital bed after nearly getting killed by god knows what.

You took an uneasy breath as you sat on the chair beside the bed. "Hey, yeah, it's me. Please don't try to get up, I'm right here."

You couldn't help the tears that pricked at your eyes as you watched the love of your life struggle just to open his eyes, his head lulling to the side as if he was too weak to hold it up on his own. Despite that, he still managed to reach for your hand and squeeze it.

"What're you doing here?" His words came out slow and slurred together. "Thought you were in New York."

You were grateful his eyes were closed as you felt the tears streaming down your cheeks. "Um, yeah, I was," your voice trembled, "I came back when I heard you were, um, hurt."

He pinched his eyebrows together at the cracks in your voice. "Sweetheart, are you crying?"

You stifled a sob and roughly wiped your face with your free hand. Your body shook with the effort to keep your emotions at bay, and you knew he could sense it.

"How could I not when—when you're half dead in a hospital bed?! And I have to hear about it from some sorcerer? Nobody is even telling me what the fuck happened, Shaun—can I even call you that anymore?"

The dam broke then, and you allowed the sobs to escape you at the thought that you came so close to losing him entirely. You buried your face in one hand while he gently stroked his thumb across your other.

In all honesty, you weren't really mad at him for leading this whole other life. It was more the fact that he could've died and you would've been completely blindsided—the most important person in your life being ripped away from you with no prior indication that anything was wrong. It was the frustration that you were kept on the sidelines and helpless because you didn't even know there was a fight to join, and you were stripped of the chance to stop him from getting hurt.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry," he frowned, voice low, "I thought it'd be safer if you didn't know about my past, but I didn't consider how much I was hurting you. I'm sorry."

You sniffled, guilt settling as you saw the remorse splashed all over his face.

His eyes fluttered as he tried to keep them open. He took a slow, uneven breath, "I wasn't honest about my family. My dad isn't a good man, and after my mom died, he trained me to follow in his footsteps. I ran away, but his men found me, and now here we are. I guess I was rusty."

Your eyes scanned over the small cuts littering his face. Both his eyes had swelling and bruising beneath them, probably because of the hit that broke his nose. He cringed with every movement, and you could hear how he struggled with each breath. You wanted to rip your eyes away, but a part of you was afraid he'd disappear entirely if you ever did.

He was still trying to focus his vision on you as he let go of you and shakily brought his hand up to wipe your cheek. "Hey, no more tears for me, alright? I'm still here. You should see the other guys, this is the face of a man who won."

You let out a strained laugh, cupping his hand on your face. "I'd hate to see what it looks like when you don't win."

He shot you a tired smile, "Don't worry, I've got too much to live for."

You let out a deep sigh as you looked over him again. He was trying so hard not to fall apart for your sake, but you could see right through him. "Alright, Shang-Chi, move over."

"You know, you can still call me Shaun. Feels weird to change it up now." He slowly shifted over to make room on the bed, and you tried not to look too worried at how his face contorted in pain. You settled beside him, careful not to put too much pressure on his side.

"Here, lean your head back," you instructed, shifting the pillow underneath his head. You pushed his hair out of his face and continued stroking it back as his features melted into relief.

"You don't have to keep it together for the both of us all the time, Shaun. And I never want you to hurt yourself ever again just to spare my feelings." Your voice dropped to a whisper, "I love you and I will always, always be here."

His eyes fluttered closed and he mumbled something incoherent as you softly kissed his temple. The uneasy look on his face was almost entirely gone, and you were sure he'd drifted off when his labored breathing evened out a few moments later.

You were still far from okay, but you knew he was never going to let himself rest until he was sure you were alright. It was ridiculous, really, how much discomfort he'd put himself through so you wouldn't worry. You gazed at his sleeping form, tears welling up once more.