#they insult you and then they make out about it after

[euthymiya]

content includes: female reader, drunk reader + mentions of alcohol, modern + non curse au sukuna, established relationship, unnamed friends, reader makes one (1) dick sucking joke, reader dips fries into shakes because she’s elite like that, he carries reader

It’s half past midnight when he comes to pick you up. Your face sours as soon as you see him, taking an instinctive step back.

“Nuh uh,” you say, wagging a finger back and forth in his face as he scowls. “It’s girl’s night. No men allowed—we’ve been over this!”

“As if I wanna join your stupid girl’s night,” he scoffs. Sukuna is tired. (Of you). It’s too late at night to be worrying about what ditch you’re going to end yourself up in after lord knows how many drinks, so regrettably, he takes matters into his own hands.

It’s a good thing he does, too, he thinks with a flare of his nostril as he eyes the drunk, mess of a woman that’s supposed to be your ride home. Designated driver my ass, he all but grumbles under his breath.

“Hey—” he looks over to the side with an irritated flick of his eyes as a hand smacks his shoulder. Your friend (in not better condition than you) levels him with a snarky look before she hisses, “You heard her! It’s girl’s night. Go away.”

Sukuna ignores her—because, well, that’s what he always does anyway. She talks far too much to be considered a normal amount, and he doesn’t like the shrill sound of her voice. Instead, he turns to you, gives you a firm, scolding look before he grunts, “We are going home. Now.”

You seem to catch onto the stern tone of his voice because within seconds, you’re slumping against him as you whine, “Fine,” with a pout. “Mean.”

“Yeah?” He snorts, “You know what’s meaner? Nasty men who find girls passed out in the middle of the streets. Now let’s go. We’re going home—all of you.”

A chorus of whines and petty insults makes him want to grab a drink himself—being inebriated seems like the only way your friends are tolerable, but as annoying as they are, he refuses to leave them here wasted.

So he does the noble thing, and sacrifices his ear drums as they play whatever stupid pop song is trending on the radio at full volume down the streets, heads sticking out of the windows and screaming the lyrics out to innocent passerby’s.

Sukuna is just a guy. Not the best, most chivalrous or charitable guy, maybe—but just a guy, all the same. He’s not done anything wrong to deserve this torture. He’s been nothing but a kind (usually) boyfriend that loves you unconditionally (most of the time), supports you wholeheartedly (when it suits him), listens to your problems (if he’s in the mood), and makes you feel special (as long as it doesn’t inconvenience him).

Still, he’s stuck basically being an uber driver—for free, no less—to your ungrateful, bratty, obnoxious friends that aren’t pretty enough to enjoy your company in the first place. They don’t even thank him when they get out as he drops them off one by one to their homes, opting to say goodbye to you as if you’re the one who pays for the gas in his car.

Finally, the last of your friends (who he likes to consider nuisances) leaves, freeing him of anymore radio pop songs and unnaturally loud giggles.

He grumbles as you ask, “Can we get milkshakes?”

“No.”

“Please?” You whine, “I want strawberry.”

“That’s great,” he says sarcastically, “The answer’s still no.”

“Please, please, please, Kuna? I’ll suck your dick on the drive there—”

“Jesus, what’s the matter with you?” He hisses, fighting back flushed cheeks as he glares at you once the car rolls to a stop at a red light.

Usually, he’s the one making such lewd comments and getting under your skin—but lacking in sobriety is seriously forcing the two of you to switch roles. He’s starting to wonder if maybe he should be nicer to you—you deal with a lot. (Not that he’s mean. He considers himself a pretty generous boyfriend).

“I’ll even pay,” you offer.

“You didn’t bring a wallet, so it looks like I’ll have to pay,” he says blandly.

You grin, giving him an innocent smile as you excitedly ask, “So that’s a yes?”

“Are you going to be quiet if I say yes?” He clicks his teeth in thinly-veiled irritation.

You grin, nodding enthusiastically.

Well, he thinks bitterly, so much for no more pit stops.

It’s not long until he’s pulling into the drive-thru of the nearest fast food joint, rolling his window down to order your stupid, late night request.

“We’ll take one strawberry milkshake, please,” he says gruffly.

“Anything else?” Comes the tired reply of whoever is taking his order.

“No—”

“And large fries, please!” You lean over him to shout out the window and make sure the poor worker hears you. Sukuna glares, (gently) pushing you back into your seat as he hisses, “Put your seatbelt on! And you asked for a milkshake, not a damn meal.”

“Fries aren’t a meal,” you huff, “And they’re good dipped in the shake. You can’t have one without the other.”

“No—”

“I’ll scream that I’m being kidnapped,” you warn, “I want my fries.”

“Fucking fine,” he throws his hands up, exasperatedly caving to your request because, yeah, having some drunk, half-conscious woman in his front seat screaming bloody murder about being abducted at two a.m. is not a good look to a stranger that doesn’t know any better. “One strawberry milkshake and large fucking fries and that’s it,” he growls to the other person through the drive-thru speaker.

It’s not the poor employee’s fault, and he knows it, but he’s too tired and sleep-deprived to care about his snarky attitude.

“It’ll be ready at the window,” the man speaks tiredly, completely unphased.

“Yay!” You squeal.

It’s a pretty bothersome task to have to stop the car five minutes after receiving the food just to open the lid of your cup for you so that you can dip your fries into your milkshake easier, but he figures it’s better than a tiring drive home. Or worse, a spill all over his car seats at your own attempt.

He glances over at you wearily as he finally (hopefully) starts to drive home, watching as you dip your french fries into your frozen drink and happily eat away. He crinkles his eyes at the combination.

He’ll never understand people’s unnatural obsession with pairing anything remotely salty and sweet together.

“My friends think you’re weird,” you hum, taking a handful of fries to your mouth as you say between chewing, “They say you’re intense. Like, scary intense. But I told them, that’s just his face.”

Finally, a small smile cracks on his face, breaking through the grumpy, tired exterior. He snorts, shaking his head. “Drunk you has way too much to say.”

“Drunk me is honest,” you retort, clutching your fries to your chest as you huff, “Now I’m not sharing my fries anymore.”

“You weren’t going to anyway,” he rolls his eyes.

Finally, his car pulls into a familiar parking spot, just outside of your shared home as he parks and turns to you. You giggle at him before humming, “How’d you know?”

“Because you never do,” he rolls his eyes.

“That’s because this relationship is 50/50! You buy the food, and I eat it.”

“Yeah?” He snorts, shaking his head—still, there’s something endearing about the way you clutch your fries close to your chest, as if guarding them with your life. He leans over, snatching one easily anyway, smirking in amusement when you gasp and pout at the gesture.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

“Yeah, whatever,” he grunts, fighting back a fond grin before he asks, “Let’s go. We’re going in.”

With that, he comes around to your side of the car, pulling you out and hoisting you up to carry you bridal style as he marches over to the front door. Sighing happily, you admire his face as he walks.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

He raises a brow, mildly shocked. “For?”

“For bringing me home. Same time next week?”

He chuckles, pressing a soft, affectionate kiss to your forehead. “Absolutely not. No more girl’s nights with those shit shows.”

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion doesn't ask for affection because he can't..... yet.

Ah, more tea steeping in this seeming endless sea of thoughts. This brew is a bit strong on the heart. Read with caution.

Warning for game spoilers and talk of abuse.

This perspective is from game content only. How anybody cannons their relationships or behaviors is perfectly right. No blame, no shame, it's your game.

I was always miffed at the lack of initiated affection from Astarion as a partner. YOU ask him for a kiss. YOU ask him for a hug. YOU ask him to tell you thank you after being an amazing partner and killing a massive beastie just for him! Brat...

But then I had a sudden realization. Given his past, affection is probably insanely hard to ask for. Like it can be for a lot of us.

Stay awhile and listen. (nerd)

Now when I speak of narcissistic abuse I am only speaking from what I know about it. I have no academic or phycology degree on the matter. Just good ol' tossed in the pond and forced to sink or swim experience.

Astarion spent 200 years under the crushing weight of narcissistic / psychopathic abuse. One of the things these types of abusers love to do is take what you love and make you hate it and then make you hate yourself for ever having liked it to begin with. All very nasty business that. But it's one of the main corner stones for the cage they build to control you.

They make you feel as if the request of a simple hug is the most pathetic thing you could ask for. Or the most selfish thing as it inconveniences them. They don't want it, why should they give it to you?

Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..

200 years with a master who used him like a tool. 200 years with siblings that fought amongst each other so much comfort was a liability. Nights coming home assaulted only to be mocked for your tears. Insulted for your need of comfort.

"Pathetic! Weak! Disgusting! "

Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..

Affection was nowhere to be found there, I assure you.

And for a Narc. anything given is expected to be "earned" in any way they see fit. And if you were "rewarded" with anything, it comes at high price.

And how dare you not find it fair. You ingrate!

Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..

Hugs are pathetic. Kisses are an intrusion. Or they become gateways to other unwanted behaviors. To be held...what are you? A baby? The only way you are going to get held, is down.

Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue.. The pattern continues.

But you ask HIM for a kiss. And he says..

"There is nothing I'd like more."

And he means it.

I'd bet a mountain of gold he wants to just ask you himself. But years of conditioning to expect pain when seeking pleasure probably keeps him in a choke hold. Like rats that are shocked every time they try to eat food out of a dish. They learn it is safer to starve.

"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or a hug, but they might think i'm weak. But if they ask me first then it's them who wants it and they can't degrade me for it because they asked, not me. It's safe then."

"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or hug, but they might reject me for being too needy and shame and berate me for being so selfish or demanding of their time and person. But if they ask they have time and want me to kiss/hug them."

"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or a hug, but my primal brain keeps telling me they might demand more than I want to give in return for it. But if they ask, I have the power of negotiating the outcome."

This leads me to believe he would view sex and affection very differently as well.

Where most find affection safe and nurturing, it's anxiety educing and unsafe. It means there are feelings and if there are feelings there is the risk and fear of rejection or judgment. It's much scarier.

Where most find sex to be connecting and intimate, it's been used so much it's lost any meaning. Something you can do a thousand times over and walk away the second it's done and feel nothing afterward.

This may even be a part of the reason why he wants to stop having sex.

He wants to connect with you in ways denied to him. He wants the experience of being courted, treasured, nurtured. It means so much more to him than sex. It is so much more connecting.

Feeling this way is wretched and lonely. The most basic instinct is to want to seek comfort in the arms of those who love us. But it's broken. The risk is too great.

And it's hard. Because you could be the sweetest most honorable Tav in the whole of Fearun. But after being fed poised apples one too many times, all apples appear poisonous regardless of if is true or not.

I have no doubt that this prickly elf soaks up every second of non sexual affection you give him. And truly is grateful for your patience while he slowly and carefully disarms the safety measures he put in place to survive. The fact that he even allowed you to touch him like that at all was a monumental act of trust. And why not? You are incredible after all.

I'm going to go ask my elf for a kiss now. And then cry in my cup.

[bangtan-junkie]

Dissonance (Part 1) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

Genre/Tags: coworker!JK, enemies to lovers, smutttttt, slow burn (ish?), ANGST

Word Count: 5744 words

Synopsis:

Your coworker, Jungkook, got on your nerves. While everyone saw him as sweet and charming, you saw his true (annoying) colours that lay beneath. It was no secret that you hated him. No one knew that more than him. But a night out, drinks in your system, and a girl flirting with Jungkook in front of you might bring up some uglier feelings and be Jungkook's last straw.

Note:

lol sorry I'm not great with synopses. but yeah this is rly just angst and filth enjoyyy. part 2 soon hopefully. also would love requests or feedback so lmk

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as Jungkook spoke. Jungkook was a newer employee and the whole office knew you didn't like him one bit. He was a kiss-ass and there was nothing you hated more than a kiss-ass. Not only was he a kiss-ass, he was also annoyingly good looking which only made people like him more. While you were busy busting your ass for work and cleaning up after other peoples' mess, he was able to get anyone to do whatever he wanted with a flash of his smile. To top it all off, nearly every woman in your office threw themselves at him - even the senior ladies. You couldn't stand it. Watching them twirling their hair, putting a hand on his chest as they laughed at his every word, it made you sick. What was worse was watching him flirt back - seeing him check them out, grab them by the waist, or whisper in their ears. Everything about him made your blood boil and you refused to give him an easy time like everyone else.

Jungkook was fully aware of your disdain for him. He didn’t miss how your eyes rolled when he walked into the room, or how you avoided him like he was the plague. He paid no attention to it at first, trying his best to charm you as he did with your peers. But every smile, joke, or conversation was shut down. He thought it wouldn’t bother him, but with each passing day, every scowl, every eye roll, and every glare, he felt his irritation growing. But he refused to give you the satisfaction of knowing that he cared about your opinion. Instead, he tried his best to show you that you had no affect on him at all. With every insult you threw at him, he turned it around and threw a cheeky, flirty comment back at you. He only did it because he knew it would piss you off even more. As amusing as it was, his frustration was building up as you pushed his buttons.

Unfortunately for the both of you, you shared a social circle at work because you were in the same department. As if you didn't get enough of each other at work, you were occasionally forced into seeing each other outside of work when your coworkers decided to go out. Tonight was one of those cursed nights as your group agreed to go out for drinks after work. So you sat at the end of the booth, downing your drinks faster than you probably should, watching one of the girls attempt to seduce Jungkook in the booth. You tried to focus on the conversation happening on the other side of you but found your mind wandering back to the two of them. She was practically in his lap by this point and had unbuttoned a few buttons of her top. Jungkook's arm was snaked around her waist while his other hand lingered along the hem of her skirt. You downed your next drink, trying to drown the burning sensation you felt in your chest. It was certainly drowning your common sense in the process, your head already beginning to feel fuzzy. The girl was asking stupid questions and resorting to plain flattery in an attempt to flirt. Your already bad mood from work combined with the drinks you were powering through was quickly worsening your mood and making you more bold.

"You're so sweet," she giggled, "No wonder everyone likes you over in your department."

"Not everyone," you mumbled under your breath with a roll of your eyes. Jungkook rolled his own eyes and ignored you but the girl looked over at you confused.

"Sorry?" She asked.

"Don't be. I was just agreeing with you. Jungkook is soooooooo sweet," you mocked, looking directly at him. She gave you a strange look and turned back to him.

"Looks like you're famous with all the ladies," she smiled, playing with his tie.

"Oh you have no idea," you laughed to yourself. Jungkook closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself down and avoid reacting. "His reputation exceeds him," you giggle. This time she gave you a dirty look and ignored you.

"Too bad you're not in our department. You'd be a sight for sore eyes," she raked her eyes over him and winked.

"That's about all he's useful for, you should take him really," you grumbled. That was Jungkook's last straw. He finally turned to you, acknowledging your existence.

"Are you serious right now?" He glared. Your stomach flipped as you finally got a good look at him - tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, and fury swimming in his eyes. Yeah, the alcohol is definitely getting to me - you thought to yourself. You just shrugged in response.

“Get up. Now,” Jungkook demanded, voice low. You rolled your eyes but complied and slid off your chair as Jungkook slid out of the booth. As soon as you were up, you were being dragged away with a tight grip on your wrist, . He took you to the far corner of the bar, out of sight from the booth everyone was at. You rubbed your wrist in pain when let go of you.

“What are you doing?” He asked. You noticed the tick in his jaw as he clenched it. It made his jawline look even sharper. Dragging your gaze away from his jaw back to his eyes, you gave him a questioning look. “Don’t play fucking dumb right now,” he belittled. Your stomach dropped at the insult.

“I know you’re celibate, but I’m trying to take this girl home and fuck her brains out,” he sneered.

You gulped. Something about this Jungkook was doing something to you. He never got angry with you. He always had a witty remark for every insult you threw his way. Seeing him like this was different; it was more real than his cocky facade. His brows were furrowed and he was glaring at you like he wanted to grab you by the neck. Fuck he looks so hot. Normally you would never let yourself think that, but the alcohol swirling in you was clouding your judgment. Fortunately, you were still sober enough to hide your lustful gaze.

“I’m trying to save the girl from a night of disappointment and misery,” you snickered. Your answer only seemed to anger him more. He stepped forward and you took a step back. His annoyance was written all over his face. A few more steps and he’d backed you against a wall and caged you in with a hand placed next to your face. You had never been so close to Jungkook before. Was he always this handsome? You could only stare up at him and hope he didn’t notice how turned on you were.

“We both know you don’t believe that,” he said, leaning down, his face way too close to yours. “You think I’m such a man whore right? Surely you don’t think I have these women coming back just for my pretty face?” He mocked you. You felt your face flush. “Then what is it? Why are you cockblocking me?”

You weren’t completely sure why you were acting the way you were. Watching that girl press up so close to him, whisper in his ear, laugh at his every work - it made you sick. Yet you couldn’t look away, you watched as he flirted so shamelessly and your stomach swirled with disgust.

“She’s fucking stupid. She fell for you. Really I’m doing her a favour.”

“Why do you care Y/n? Just because you don’t want me, doesn’t mean other people don’t.”

“Because they look so dumb fawning over you,” your gaze was hazy, “all they see is how ha-,” your eyes trailed down to his pretty lips, having the little sense to cut yourself off before saying what you were going to say. “They’re always the same; flipping their hair, laughing at your dumb jokes, climbing into your lap. And you eat it up every time.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed for a moment before he scoffed.

“What, are you jealous sweetheart?” He joked dryly. “Wish it was you instead?” He asked, trying to annoy you and fully expecting you to get angry. Turns out, it worked. Something fiery and ugly crawled through your veins as the words left his mouth, making you feel hot. You couldn’t face what the feeling was - just knowing Jungkook was making you feel something so dark was enough to stop your train of thought. You refused to become one of those girls...you couldn't.

“You know what? Never mind, you guys are perfect for each other,” you mumbled while quickly slipping under his arms. The possibility of you being jealous was sobering. It cleared your mind enough to know you should get back to the table. Enough to see how dangerously close to disaster you were. But just as you made it a foot past him, he pulled you back, pressing your back against the wall. His gaze was different now - dark and piercing. It held you captive, like a deer caught in headlights. You couldn’t look away and neither could you pull out of the tight grip he had on your arm.

“What, that’s it? Not even gonna give me shit for that?” He questioned. The words were meant to be teasing but instead they sounded angry, nearly spiteful. His mind was racing as he put the whole picture together but refused to believe it. Embarrassment replaced the ugly feeling clawing up your throat, making your body burn up. His gaze became too intense and you had to look away. But he was not going to make this easy for you. He grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him as he patiently waited for you to say something, to deny what he was thinking. This was a whole new side of him that you were seeing for the first time. What was worse was that some part of you liked it. Your embarrassment reached a new height as the tension grew thicker between you. You wanted to scream, to run, to get as far away from Jungkook as you could - anything but admit this new found truth. Tears threatened to wallow in your eyes as the unease began eating you alive. But you forced them back, refusing to embarrass yourself any further. After several moments of silence from you, Jungkook let go of your jaw and scoffed in disbelief.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he uttered, bewildered, before hanging his head. The short moment gave you reprieve, a second to breathe again now that he wasn’t looking into your soul. Your mouth opened to say something, anything to redeem yourself, but shut when you couldn’t think of anything. Then Jungkook was chuckling, which turned into a laugh that made his shoulders shake. It wasn’t a joyous laughter. No, it was mocking, cruel.

“This whole time,” he started, his laughter dying down as he looked at you again, “I thought there was an actual reason you hated me.” He straightened his back, now towering above you, and moved closer. He was looking at you like he was going to eat you alive. You quickly avoided his gaze, choosing to stare straight ahead at his chest instead. One of his hands came up to tangle in your hair before he yanked it, forcing you to look at him again. You couldn’t help the moan that left your lips as he pulled your hair. It only fueled that hunger in his eyes.

“All this time, you just needed to be stuffed full of cock huh? Needed me to fuck the attitude out of you?”

The words immediately sent a rush of arousal to your core, leaving you breathless. If it wasn't for the little bit of pride left in you, you would've jumped him. Jungkook watched as your eyes filled with lust and anger as you steeled your resolve. He quickly glanced around to see if any of your coworkers were nearby before grabbing your wrist and dragging you into the washroom. All you heard was the door locking before you were pinned to the wall.

“Come on Y/n, I wanna hear you say it. Tell me you're jealous. Tell me you want to be in my bed instead of her,” he growled, getting more bold by the second. You gulped, struggling to contain your reactions.

"Shut up," you spat out, finally finding your voice. "Go fuck her for all I care." You gave him the best glare you could muster up. Jungkook's eyes lit up with the challenge you presented, but the dark glint in them made you nervous. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand.

"If you're gonna lie, at least do it well," he taunted, his breath hitting your lips.

"I don't care what you do Jungkook. Just let me go" you whined, straining your wrists in his grip. He only tightened his hold on you, hiking your wrists further up the wall and forcing you on your tippy toes. His sheer strength was slightly jarring as you were left helpless in his grip.

"Yeah?," he scoffed, "then maybe I should go back out there and pick up where I left off." You felt your stomach drop at his suggestion. Some part of you deep down wanted more. But an even bigger part of you couldn't stand the thought of enduring more of him flirting with that girl.

"She's a bold one, you know? She kept pushing my hand up her thigh, closer to where she really wanted it," he teased, voice low.

His hand trailed along your waist, over your hips, then down your thigh. Your breath hitched at the gentle touch. His fingers brushed along the hem of your skirt, which suddenly felt too short. You couldn't seem to peel your eyes away from his tattooed fingers that threatened to slip under your skirt. Your heart pounded in your chest as thoughts of what else his hands could do flashed through your mind. Taking advantage of your silence, he continued.

"She's filthy, she would've let me touch her pussy right there at the table," he groaned. "Could've had her riding my fingers in front of everyone, trying her best to stay quiet." You shot him a glare, finding the thought repulsive - unless it was you he was touching of course. "Would you rather I leave you here and go do that?"

"Fuck you," you answered with a little too much anger and disgust. It was obvious that you cared, and you hated that. Jungkook raised a brow, a satisfied smirk dawning his lips.

"I'll take that as a no," he mused, fingertips dipping under your skirt, ghosting over the inside of your thigh. You let out a shaky breath.

"I didn't...I mean...," you stumbled over your words, trying to find an excuse. You didn't want him to have the upper hand. It hurt your ego.

"Come on, use your words Y/n. Tell me why you don't want me to go," he patronized, waiting to hear your answer. His fingers continued to trail upwards, making you fluster more. You ignored his request, hyperaware of his touch. If he moved his fingers any further up, he'd be able to feel your arousal and the thought was mortifying. He'd never let you live it down.

"Jungkook," you gasped, getting higher on your tippy toes in an attempt to get his fingers a little further away.

"Yes?" He answered, intrigued by the sudden flustered expression on your face.

"Don't...your fingers," you managed to say, squirming under him.

"What about them?" He asked, stilling their movement but dug them into the flesh of your inner thigh. You closed your eyes and muttered a prayer under your breath.

"This isn't appropriate.." you said shakily, staring at the his hand disappeared under your skirt. He scoffed at your words.

"Not appropriate?" he chuckled. "You know what else is inappropriate? The constant belittling and insults you throw my way." The amusement dissipated from his voice. "The way you humiliate me in front of everyone is inappropriate Y/n," his words pierced you. The internal battle between guilt and arousal you were feeling left your head fuzzy.

"Listen, I'm sorr-" you started, genuinely wanting to apologize, seeing how upset he was. But he cut you off, not wanting to hear your apology.

"And what's especially inappropriate is the way you're looking at me right now," he growled. A rush of arousal flowed through you as he called you out. "It's inappropriate how your eyes are begging me to touch you."

The breath was knocked out of you as he pointed out everything that you thought he hadn't noticed. "I bet if I touched you right now, you'd be fucking soaked," he said, voice low.

"Jungkook please," you said breathlessly, begging him to stop speaking as your legs threatened to give out under you.

"Please what?" he asked, forcing you to spell it out for him.

"Please...I can't.." you whimpered. The sound made him groan.

"You can't?" he questioned, "Can't take it anymore?" Your eyes threatened to tear up again. "Want me to stop? Or do you want me to touch you?"

You took a second to think about it, calming your overwhelmed nerves. Were you actually going to give in to your desires? Was it worth the never ending humiliation and mockery you'd face after? You took one look at his hungry eyes and decided - fuck it.

"Touch me," you finally said, heart racing. His eyes darkened and he wasted no time in obliging. He quickly hiked your skirt up to your hips, his fingers slipping between your clothed folds. All thoughts escaped your mind as Jungkook finally touched you where you wanted.

"Fuck, you really are soaked - for me," he growled. You had half the mind to remind him that he was also clearly enjoying himself. But your eyes fluttered shut and the words transformed into a moan as his fingers rubbed over your clit again. Pleasure coursed through your body, the tension between you two only adding to the fire between your legs. "I turn you on that much?"

You could only huff in response, too focused on the pleasure. His fingers slid down, rubbing through your wetness. Then he stopped. You groaned at the loss, opening your eyes to shoot him a glare. You were met with Jungkook's dark, lustful gaze. His eyes scanned your features hungrily, catching on your lips before stopping at your eyes. The look on your face was one he was used to. The look of anger, frustration, borderline hate. Usually he despised it, but in that moment he savoured it. This time, it was mixed with desperation - desire. It made him proud that he was able to push you to this point.

"Are you kidding me?" you asked, clearly annoyed.

"So cute how you think you'll get your way every time," he mumbled, a devilish smirk resting on his lips. "You know what one of the first things I noticed about you was? How you weren't afraid to speak your mind." It felt strange to hear Jungkook complimenting you like this, but you still felt like this was a trap. "Obviously, back then I didn't know that I'd grow to hate it," he chuckled. You rolled your eyes.

"But I want you to speak your mind now. You've always said every terrible thing you thought about me. So tell me what you're thinking about me now Y/n," he said, eyes staring into your soul like he knew every filthy thought that was running through your mind. He moved closer, his lips grazing against your ear as he whispered, "Still thinking of how much you hate me?"

"No," you answered, wanting him to get on with it.

"What are you thinking then?" Every inch of you screamed at you not to answer. But you knew there was only one way out of this. Jungkook wanted the truth, he wanted to hear you say it.

"I'm thinking about your hands, your fingers," you said softly, grateful that he had his face buried in your neck so that you didn't have to look him in the eye.

"What about 'em?" His breathing was ragged against your skin, like he couldn't wait to finally hear the words.

"Thinking about how good they look on my legs," you admitted, heart racing. Jungkook didn't answer, only taking a sharp breath in. A few more seconds of silence and you gulped, deciding to take the leap.

"Thinking about how big your hands are. And how good your fingers would feel inside of me," you said, gasping as his fingers resumed their ministrations. Jungkook pulled his head back, finally looking at you again, a dark lust painted across his features.

"Thinking about cumming on your fingers and your cock," you said, your eyes fluttering shut as pleasure worked its way through your body again. "Thinking about how much I hate that you're making me feel this way."

Jungkook cursed under his breath, making you open your eyes.

"Why?" The question was simple, but it felt heavy. His eyes bore into your; anger, lust, and focus swirling around in them.

"I don't wanna be one of those girls," you answered, voice barely above a whisper. A cold look washed over his face for a brief moment.

"How does it feel then? You're here, soaked and begging me to touch you. About to cum on my fingers. I'm the one making you feel this good," he growled, fingers picking up their pace. "Are you angry? Disgusted?"

His fingers had you hurtling towards the edge, leaving your mind hazy. You barely processed his question as the pressure built up in your core again. All you could do was moan his name as you quickly reached your climax. But then his fingers were gone, leaving you crashing. There was a moment of silence as disbelief and anger coursed through you. When you looked back at him, his expression seemed colder.

“What the fuck Jungkook?!” you nearly shouted when you finally came back to your senses. “I was so close!” you grit through your teeth.

“Oh were you?” Jungkook mocked, observing your angered reaction.

“I should’ve known. Of course you’re a selfish douchebag in bed too,” you spat. A smirk formed on his lips as he raised a brow at your words.

“It’s bewildering that those girls come back when you can’t even get them off once. I guess it is just for your pretty face,” you sneered, wanting him to him to be equally as pissed of as you. He let go of your wrists and buried a hand in your hair before yanking it back. You yelped at the harsh tug that forced your head back, exposing your neck to him.

“God you really just keep running your mouth, don’t ya?” He growled. “A few more seconds and we both know you would’ve creamed your panties.” You gulped at his words, unable to deny them.

“But only good girls get to cum,” he whispered, his hot breath on your ear sending shivers down your spine. He let go of your hair, putting a little space between you two. “You think you deserve to cum?” He asked.

“After months of being an asshole to me, never listening to anything I said, treating me like an idiot? All because you wanted my cock stuffed in your tight pussy.” The anger swirling in his eyes only turned you on more.

“Did you really think I’d give you what you wanted so easily Y/n?” he mocked. “After all that, did you think I’d let you have your way? Maybe finally fuck you how you’ve wanted? Have you screaming my name, squirting all over my cock, over and over again?” While his words added to the arousal between your legs, his tone left you humiliated. You could feel your face getting hotter.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to mutter while staring at the floor. Jungkook chuckled darkly before grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

“Oh baby, no. Sorry won’t cut it. If you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna have to earn it,” he growled, staring right into your eyes.

Then he let go of your jaw. He was angry with you, so angry. But watching you beg, cry his name, submit to him made his cock impossibly hard. As he fumbled with his belt and pants, you understood what he wanted. Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees before him. Jungkook cursed under his breath at the way you looked up at him. You reached forward to help him as he shakily unzipped his pants, but he merely brushed your hands away. You waited patiently, your heart racing in anticipation of finally seeing his cock. Relief spread across his face when he finally pulled his aching cock out of its confines. You licked your lips at the sight. Jungkook’s hand squeezed at the base as he slapped your cheek with his cock.

“Open,” he demanded. You obeyed, opening your mouth and letting your tongue out. Jungkook slapped his heavy cock on your tongue, groaning as you looked up at him. His cock twitched against your tongue as he admired the lewd image in front of him. You swirled your tongue around the tip before closing your lips around it. Jungkook grunted, still looking at you with dark eyes. But he refused to move, leaving you to do all the work for now. So, you slowly sunk your mouth down on his cock, brushing his hands away from the base. When you’d finally sunk all the way down, your nose brushing against his pelvis, Jungkook’s head rolled back and he let out a heavy sigh that sounded suspiciously like a whimper. Seeing him crumble under your touch boosted your pride and ego. Feeling like you finally had some power in this situation, you decided to go further, just to pull more of those cute whimpers out of him. You pulled back before sinking down on him again, letting his cock hit the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck, he moaned, his hands flying to the back of your head to grab your hair. You repeated the action two more times, pulling a string of curses and moans from his lips that hit your ears like music. Just as you were pulling your head back for another time, Jungkook’s hands pushed your head forward, thrusting his own hips so his cock was buried deep in your throat. The action caught you off guard, your hands coming up to hold his thighs, attempting to stabilize yourself. Your throat burned at the abrupt intrusion and you felt tears beginning to well in your eyes as he held you there. But the look of pleasure etched on his face and the pretty moans leaving his lips were incentive enough for you to stay there. You tried your best to focus on breathing through your nose as he buried his cock as deep as he could.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. “Who knew your mouth felt this fucking good?” He asked rhetorically, his voice low and hoarse, finally opening his eyes. Seeing you looking up at him with his cock stuffed down your throat, tears streaming down your face, and trying your best to nod to his question proved to be overwhelming for Jungkook. He felt like he could cum right there and then. With a growl, he yanked you off his cock, finally giving you a chance to breathe. You coughed as you tried to catch your breath, trying to wipe away your tears and the saliva dripping down your chin. He had to look away from you for a moment or he thought he’d go crazy. So he slowly stroked his cock, letting his head roll back, as you caught your breath.

You breathed heavily, unable to do anything but look up at him in a haze. As soon as you caught your breath, you wrapped your lips around his cock again. Jungkook looked at you through hooded eyes as you eagerly sank down on his cock again. He didn’t even give you a second to readjust, a hand fisting your hair as his hips snapped forward. He set a rough pace, leaving your throat feeling raw already. You could feel his anger and frustration with every thrust.

“Fuck, I should’ve just done this,” he growled. “Every time you ran your mouth, should’ve just stuffed it with cock. Bet you would’ve loved that,” he grunted, quickly getting close to the edge. You whimpered softly around him, unsure if you were agreeing or not. “Such a fucking slut,” he groaned, punctuating the words with harsh thrusts. His movements were getting rougher and sloppier as he hurtled closer to the edge. You held onto his thighs for support, letting him use your mouth.

“Fuck I’m getting close,” he groaned. He cursed under his breath seeing the anticipation in your eyes. He quickly yanked your head back and stroked his cock quickly. “Fucking hell, you know how bad I wanna cum all over your face? Let everyone at the table see what a fucking cockslut you are for me?” He groaned, his hand moving quickly. You stared up at him, burning the sight into your mind.

“Don’t care, just want your cum,” you gasped, still catching your breath. That was all Jungkook needed to hear to completely lose himself.

He quickly buried his cock in your mouth again as he came. Curses and moans spilled from his lips, his hot cum shooting down your throat. You could see his adam’s apple move with every groan and it was driving you crazy. There was no doubt that you were soaking wet and you ached to be filled up. Your tongue soothed his cock, coaxing him to give you more. Even after he finished, he kept himself buried in your mouth, savouring the feeling. After a few moments, he finally pulled away. His gaze was piercing as he tucked himself back into his pants, straightening himself up. You finally stood up again, brushing at your aching knees. Your heart was pounding in your ears at the anticipation of what was going to come. After all, you’d definitely been good to him. Jungkook looked at your sloppy appearance and smiled sadistically.

“Who knew you were such a filthy slut?” He taunted, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Sucking dick in a public bathroom so desperately,” he mocked. His tone made your stomach drop. Your heart continued racing with excitement and unease. He leaned in closer. “Should be enough dick to get you through the next week without being a bitch to me, right?”

You couldn’t hide the wince at his words. The spite in his voice stung. Sure he was degrading you before, but this time he sounded like he meant it. He stepped back from you, looking over you without a hint of warmth. “Might wanna clean up before you come back out,” he said nonchalantly, unlocking the bathroom door. “Wouldn’t want everyone to know that you had my cock down your throat,” he said coldly. Then he was out the door, leaving you a mess, alone in the bathroom. You couldn’t move for a few moments, still trying to process what had just happened. You’d never seen him that angry and bitter before. You couldn’t believe that he’d just left you to clean yourself up after all that. The only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was the thought of someone walking in on you like this. You finally moved to lock the door again.

“What the fuck,” you sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You shot yourself a dirty look, seeing the state you were in. You felt humiliated. As you fixed yourself up, you mentally cursed yourself for letting your guard down around Jungkook. You should’ve known that he would act like a dick. Underneath that charming exterior, he was downright awful. Of course he would insult and humiliate you after getting what he wanted. You could feel the anger bubble up in your chest, threatening to make you march back to the table and yell at him in front of everyone. But you knew you couldn’t. You’d be exposing yourself in that process and the last thing you wanted people to know was that you gave in to Jungkook. You couldn’t be seen as one of those stupid girls that were chasing him all the time. You weren’t one of them. Taking a deep breath to calm down, you took one last look in the mirror. After making sure you looked decent again, you finally stepped out of the bathroom.

As you walked back to the table, an obnoxious, high pitched laugh made your stomach churn with dread. Jungkook sat there, his arm draped over the booth behind the same girl from before, smirking as he spoke to her. She was leaning in so close that any movement would have their lips touching. You felt sick when he whispered in her ear, chuckling at whatever she responded with. You could’ve thrown up right there and then, your blood running cold. There was no way in hell you were gonna sit there and watch him act like this after everything that happened. As soon as you got to the table, you grabbed your bag and jacket, refusing to look at the two of them.

“Hey, Y/n are you leaving?” someone asked. You couldn’t even tell who was talking, too busy trying to escape this hell. “Yeah, feeling kinda sick,” you mumbled, already turning on your heels. You heard some ‘goodbye’s and ‘feel better’s from behind you but you just hastily waved without turning around. When you finally got into the cold night, the air felt like a slap to your face. It smacked some sense back into you. Your mind reeled with the events of the night and you wondered what you could’ve possibly been thinking. You just started speed walking, nearly sprinting, towards the subway, desperate to get home and wash the filth and disgust that caked your skin and clawed at your insides.

[nymphea0]

Kurkans Mate .

His Mate.

Yan! Ishakan x reader

Part 4 (END).

Manhwa :약탈혼 / predatory marriage

/ 약탈혼 (완전판)

: Adult Manhwa (18+)

Author/Illustrations : Saha / Hera(Art)

Word Count : 2.74K Word.

Hello.. Neva here~, so glad Ishakan's story is finished! Thank you so much to all of you, my dears, who patiently waited and continued to follow this series, seeing that many of you enjoyed this story, I will make special chapters for 'Kurkans Mate', but I will not post it here, but on wattpad, so just wait for it Love♡.- Neva🦋🦋

might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love.- Neva🦋🦋

- Kurkans Mate Pt. 1

- Kurkans Mate Pt. 2

- Kurkans Mate Pt. 3

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soft breeze enters a bedroom.

The scent of rose incense scents the corners of the bedroom, early in the morning, you are already awake.

You can't sleep well!, You are worried and anxious about Genin's response if he receives this bottle of blood!.

What if Genin thinks you are a shaman?? Or a witch?!.

Walk to the right then back to the left, panicking and anxious.

You hear footsteps, sit on a soft sofa that is not far from where you are standing, take a breath and relax, as if you didn't look panicked and anxious before.

The bedroom door opens, revealing Genin and a woman who has a very exotic appearance!! Having hair on both sides of her face that is slightly golden.

Exotic eyes, and a soft, seductive grin.

You are not sure who the woman is. What is certain is that she is a woman!! Unlike Genin whose gender you misinterpreted. You are currently quite confident that it is a woman! And not a man!!

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Genin was woken up early in the morning by a rough knock, when she opened the door, it turned out to be Mura who was grinning at her while holding 2 papers in her hands.

"Seriously? It's still morning Mura"

Sighing, which was only answered by Mura with a naughty chuckle.

After a few minutes, Genin finally left with Mura, after saying goodbye to her husband of course.

"So... what's the girl like?"

Mura looked at Genin curiously.

"Fragile, very expressive, full of energy, and small."

Answering as best she could, which Mura replied with a wink and a naughty grin on her lips.

Their journey until they reached the front door of the room.

"I hope you speak a little softly, I think she'll be crushed if we speak normally and loudly"

Mura only nods in response, Genin opened the door of the room slowly after knocking on the door.

The door opened, not seeing you sleeping, but there you were, sitting on the sofa still in a soft pink nightgown combined with gold embroidery typical of Kurkans, staring at the window with a melancholic face so beautiful and Ethereal. Both Genin and Mura thought you must be sad being forced to marry and kidnapped by Ishakan.

Genin and Mura walked slowly towards you, clearing their throats softly, when you were already looking at them, Genin spoke.

"Lady, this is Mura, one of His Majesty Ishakan's subordinates, she will help prepare your wedding dress"

Mura smiled or grinned at you softly.

"Hello lady in there ~, I'm here to measure your body for the wedding dress"

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Standing awkwardly, hands outstretched, Mura who was busy measuring your body, starting from the waist, head circumference, chest circumference, leg circumference, arm length, height and so on.

For quite a while, silence was the position of the 3 of you at this time, very quiet.

You looked at Genin! Thinking about how you can give your blood in a glass bottle without being suspected as a shaman or a sorceress!!.

Genin will definitely be suspicious why you suddenly gave her blood for her husband to drink?! What if Genin thinks you're joking? Or looks like insulting her husband? Or thinks it's poison?!.

Worried, you look forward again.

Mura who has been looking at you from the start is getting more curious, your hair is as smooth as silk, a beautiful blue color like the sky.

Soft, small and fragile.

You think back to Ishakan, you were very surprised when you found out that he was the king of the Kurkans, damn, it feels more and more difficult to escape, is this your destiny? Oh nature... help your lover!!.

Screaming and loving yourself mentally you can only pity your future life.

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5 minutes have passed, your body measurements for the dress and your accessory selection are also complete, just as Genin and Mura are about to leave, this is your time to shine!! Antrabeth's confidence!

Oh elders in heaven! Pray for your juniors! Give yourselves confidence!

"Genin... can we talk.. just face to face?"

Staring at genin then mura.

Mura who understood then lowered her head and blinked mischievously at you and genin then went to close the door.

"Yes lady?"

Genin looked at you confused, you just asked her to sit right in front of you.

"You... what do you know about me Genin?"

Making small talk a little to think of a way to give the blood in the bottle without being suspected.

"Lady... is the Antrabeth tribe right? The Child of Nature Tribe, a tribe that goes against the laws of nature, the 1001 nights Tribe?"

You just nodded, confirming her statement.

"Besides that?"

Asking again.

"Your blood.. can cure all kinds of diseases and give long life?"

Answering uncertainly, Genin had only heard a little information about the Antrabeth tribe, that too from Morga, the Shaman Kurkans healer.

Nodding once more, you confidently ask again.

"I'm sorry if I sound rude but have you ever thought about your husband's legs growing back? And healed again Genin?"

Genin looked at you in disbelief but a sigh was heard.

"I think it's impossible, My husband has been without legs for a long time since the incident I told you the other day, many methods have been tried, Shamans, witches, potions, all of them did not work and were very useless"

Trying to act strong, Genin looked away towards the window showing the view of the Kurkans palace.

"The Antrabeth tribe... we may be famous for our blood that goes against the laws of nature, our blood is as we wish and agree to the blood itself"

Genin looked at you in disbelief.

You then took out a small glass bottle containing 3 drops of your blood, and gave it to the Genin.

"We the Antrabeth tribe, are taught to behave as nature itself, giving and loving without reward,"

You looked towards Genin.

"My father asked me to help those who feel suffering, pain, sadness and imperfection, allow me to help your husband.. Genin, even though it's not much, but I hope this help".

"Just 1 drop is enough"

That was the last sentence from you that Genin heard

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That night, Genin saw her husband sleeping, holding a small bottle of blood that you gave her.

Genin's heart was troubled, she didn't want to hope, but there was no harm in trying, slowly opening the bottle cap, Genin opened her husband's mouth a little who was currently in a deep sleep.

Tilted the bottle slowly, Genin poured as you instructed, just 1 drop of blood was enough.

The 1 drop of blood fell and entered her husband's mouth.

Waiting for what would happen, it turned out nothing happened... as she expected, hoping too much was painful.

Closed the bottle slowly and put it in the drawer, and decided to sleep.

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That morning, Genin woke up surprised by her husband crying and screaming happily!

Staring at Genin! Her husband was standing on the bed! With both feet!.

Genin stared in disbelief! Don't tell that blood really works!

They hugged each other tightly and cried happily!

Genin swore that all her life he would protect his husband, he did not want and would not be willing for his husband to suffer again.

Genin owes you life, even though you say you don't need anything in return, Genin will still uphold their oath to protect and protect you from harm.

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That day, the Kurkans palace was surprised by the genin's husband walking on his two legs!

Of course, that's what brought the two of them to the royal council room.

Both Mura, Haban, as well as the Kurkans council members stared at Genin's husband in disbelief! Especially morga!.

"That genin..." Morga looked uncertain.

"Yes right, my husband grew legs overnight" Genin answered simply.

Ishakan looked at the genin amused.

"You're already close to her, huh, Genin. Tell me a how to get close without being slapped by my wild rabbit."

Ishakan asked jokingly, as if he already knew who was behind the growth of her husband's 2 legs, Genin.

Both Morga and Haban looked at Ishakan suspiciously.

"I think you should be frank, Your Highness, be straightforward and to the point."

Giving a little advice, Genin looked at Ishakan, who was currently just smirking, leaning his arm on the chair handle and his chin on his palm.

Morga looked at Genin and Ishakan became even more suspicious. Because he was the only one who didn't know that Ishakan's bride-to-be was the extinct Antra tribe.

"Excuse me... is there anyone who wants to explain what I actually missed?"

Morga adjusted his glasses.

Instead of answering, Genin just gave Morga a small glass bottle filled with a thick, blood-red liquid.

"What's this? Poison?"

Asking uncertainly, Morga opened the bottle cap to smell it, an expert in the smell of thick iron like blood, what Morga smelled was a sweet scent like flower nectar.

Staring uncertainly at the genin then at the genin's husband and at Ishakan.

Ishakan just whistled a little, with a deep voice full of jokes

"Damn, it turns out she even treats you with great care, why is it different with me huh?"

Grinning sarcastically at the Genin, Ishakan was jealous! Well whatever it was, Ishakan was the only one who tasted blood directly from your finger, in his mouth.

Damn! The heat month was coming soon, he had to hold himself back! Just waiting for 2 more days, then you would be his, his mate!

Morga stared at Ishakan! Ishakan didn't help his curiosity!

That afternoon, right when all the guests were busy talking to each other, Morga, Ishakan, Genin, her husband, Mura and Haban, sat in a circle on chairs, with Ishakan busy smoking his tobacco.

"So? Can anyone explain?"

Morga crossed his arms looking at them with an annoyed look, a bottle of blood right on the table in front of him.

Genin, took a deep breath and then told from A to Z how and where her husband's feet came from.

Morga, Ishakan, Haban and Mura were silent, digesting Genin's story.

Ishakan then laughed straightforwardly and grinned! Unlucky!! he was getting jealous of the genin and her husband!

You are so close and kind to both of them.

But when you was with him 4 days ago you were so wild, fierce and unfriendly like a wild rabbit in front of him!

Ishakan is increasingly unable to resist claiming you as his, there are only 2 days left, after the ceremony is finished, then he will claim you for 5 days and 5 nights, spending his heat time with you!

Morga stared in disbelief! Antrabeth tribe! Turns out it's not extinct yet!

After that brief meeting, Morga asked Ishakan's permission to examine the blood in the glass bottle, Ishakan only let Morga examine it with the other shamans.

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Time passed without realizing it, the guests had arrived, the Kurkans tribes of different species came to fill the palace area.

The wedding ceremony, beautiful, the fabrics moving softly, the flower decorations, gold and the very thick Kurkans culture!.

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2 days have passed! Damn! It's the 6th day! And you're getting married soon! Wearing a white dress, combined with a light gold, purple shawl and a kurkans-style gold waist chain, this wedding dress shows off your belly, not much but the impression you wear it actually looks very beautiful and sexy at the same time!

Ankle bracelets, and headdresses combined with every curve of your body. The fragrance of Roses around you wafts passionately.

Your dress is covered again with a white robe with intricate gold and white embroidery! Makes you look so beautiful!.

Walk out and slowly towards the ceremony venue.

You're not ready! But here you are! It's hard to accept! Yes! But they never treated you badly so maybe you can only accept your fate and your unpredictable destiny.

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Ishakan and all the Kurkans guests, held their breath! Didn't expect Ishakan's bride to be so beautiful, so small and fragile looking!, blue hair ?! It's impossible?!

Morga and the shaman almost ran towards you curiously! And wanted to touch you and your hair! It must be very soft!!.

Right now Ishakan saw you in front of him, looking at him with a look between fierce or accepting fate, Ishakan wasn't sure. He could only grin almost out of laughter!

Ahh... his partner is really turning him on just from the way you breathe and look at him!.

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"Ishakan, in the name of the elders, the old gods of the Kurkans, will you take this woman in front of you as your wife, your woman, the mother of your child, in happy, in bad, in good times, in riches, in poverty, whatever the conditions, you will make her your partner, your lifelong partner, even when death separates you?"

The elder Kurkans led the wedding ceremony.

Ishakan answered firmly and confidently!

"I am willing, to take her, to be mine, my wife, the mother of my child, my partner, my soul, my life, you are the world and the end of my life, my mate"

And the event ended with Ishakan kissing me full of love, passion and primal, possessiveness!.

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The ceremony ended with a feast, you were surrounded by shamans and morgas asking you many questions about yourself, the Kurkans who spoke whispered to you, afraid they might destroy you.

Ishakan introduced you to his entire tribe, asking them to call you by your name as they called Ishakan by his name. name, full of respect and honor, Ishakan directly wants to say that you are part of his tribe!.

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At night, you are taken away by Mura to change your clothes.

While preparing you, Mura asks.

"Should I prepare a healing potion? Morga's healing potion is very fast and effective"

Mura combed your sky blue hair, actually mura was just pretending, this task should be carried out by the palace maid, but mura wanted to be selfish for a moment, you really made her curious!.

You looked at mura in the mirror , confused.

"Why do I need a healing potion?"

Mura just laughed and poked your cheek gently!

"We Kurkans who has beast bloods are famous for having a lot of energy, especially the Beast wolf tribe, His Highness Ishakan from the strong pure-blooded wolf beast tribe"

Mura looked out window where you can see the moon that will soon be full!

"Kurkans, especially wolf blood beasts, have a vulnerability to the full moon, heat."

"The emotional state experienced by kurkans, primal and possessive, during the full moon, kurkans especially the tribe wolf blood beast only spends this time with the person who is considered a life partner"

Helping you wear a blood red dress skirt, on your waist there is a ran decoration gold jewels, Gold flashes like Ishakan's eyes.

"You will spend 5 days and 5 nights with His Highness Ishakan"

You looked at yourself now, a crop that only covered your chest, showing your bare shoulders and stomach, on your stomach there was gold jewelry with a mixture of ruby ​​tear drop colors.

Your hair was beautifully loose, on the side of your head a bright gold headdress neatly arranged on each of your hair.

On both sides of your arms there was gold chain jewelry, around your neck there was a ruby ​​gold necklace.

You looked at yourself in disbelief?! This is you?! How beautiful you are!

(*NOTE : Dress appearance. The dress is a dunhuang hanfu dress, I tried to find clothes similar to the story description but all I found was this and i think is quit similiar to kurkans culture for me and also describ at the original novel what leah wear in her wedding days, feel free to make the dress according to your imagination, the dress is just a raw description for the story. Love- Neva🦋.)

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Walking slowly along the palace hallway, you were escorted by Mura, to Ishakan's bedroom! Which would be your bedroom too.

The room was spacious! More spacious than the room you occupied before, a large bed, around the bed surrounded by bright gold and gray cloth embroidered with gold.

The fragrance of roses around this room. There's Ishakan's desk, a small table and a sofa, and there's a balcony too?!

You were left alone by Mura, staring around the bedroom, you didn't even hear the click of the door opening.

"Like the room?"

A deep voice full of temptation behind you.

You turned around to see Ishakan smirking at you, walking over and taking your hand and kissing it gently.

Your heart was beating fast! This is your first wedding night! And you'll spend 5 days and 5 nights with him as husband and wife!.

"Hello my bride~"

Smirking and looking at you full of love, passion and possessiveness!

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©️Nymphea0 2024 ,OG story, Project Dark Manhwa Character Series.

Tag list; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger @rai-xxx @thehopingfairy @ryusooze @yaoduriaa

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions, Always be good people Dear. Much love, Neva🦋🦋.

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

AkrhamKnight! Jason Todd

-----------------------------

Sensitive Topics: descriptions of a toxic relationship and mentions of physical abuse (none actually written)

AK! Jason Todd who you're not even sure what you have with. Every time you try to refer to him as your boyfriend or yourselves as together like you did before his death, he pulls away and gets defensive.

"There isn't an 'us,' sweetheart. I ain't letting shit from before that fucking clown got to me matter now."

But if you try to walk away from the situation or start talking to somebody else, he gets so incredibly jealous.

"Oh so you really need two guys' attention now? What a fucking whore..."

AK! Jason Todd who, if you couldn't tell by now, is so incredibly toxic in whatever situation you have. He cant stand to see you walk away but it kills you inside every time you come back to him and his baggage.

"Come one, sweetheart... It was just a mistake. We all make 'em, right? Don't you go leaving me over some petty shit like that."

AK! Jason Todd who absolutely loathes you going out at night. Even when he's there with you, it still puts him on edge to see you walking the cold, dark Gotham sidewalks when you could be safe in his apartment or the base instead.

AK! Jason Todd who just gets so mean with you for no reason. Well, not for little things like forgetting to pick up plastic wrap at the store or something. More like walking alone in Gotham without him knowing you were even gone. He hates the thought of something happening to his precious little thing.

AK! Jason Todd who would never physically harm you. Are insults thrown around like confetti? Absolutely! Is there a scream fight almost every week? You bet! But has he ever raised a finger against you? No. And he would never even think of it.

AK! Jason Todd who's absolutely pissed whenever somebody even looks at you for too long, nevermind making comments. You'd be surprised just how many of his soldiers he's gotten rid of just for telling him to "put his bitch in her place," or for telling you to "cover up, slut."

AK! Jason Todd who can't open up. He knows what he's doing is horrible. He knows that everything he does affects you in one way or another. But what about the horrible things other people have done? What about what the Joker did to him? What about Bruce letting the Joker roam free afterwards and replacing him with another goody two shoes? Jason wants to talk to you, he really does. But he just doesn't see how you or anybody, for that matter, coyld ever understand him or what he's been through.

AK! Jason Todd who found himself crying in the dark shadows of your shared apartment when Bruce first came along to stop his ridiculous plan to take over Gotham with Scarecrow's fear toxin. Jason loved Bruce. Bruce was his only family. But family means that nobody gets left behind and Bruce sure as hell broke that rule.

(This is actually kinda cannon: in Akrham Knight, one of the conversations you can overhear between a few of the gaurds mentions Jason crying after encountering Bruce for one of the first times)

AK! Jason Todd who truly does love you, in some way. He doesn't think he can be in love with you, but that doesnt makw him care about you any less. You're his person, and you've been there for him whether he likes it or not.

AK! Jason Todd who would absolutely lose it if anything were to ever happen to you. He never wants to see even a hair on your damn head hurt if he can help it. If one of his guards were to be responsible for an injury you sustained, they'd be out the door and probably six feet under in a heartbeat.

AK! Jason Todd who, no matter what your situation or relationship is like, refuses to let you see his chest. Yeah, his entire body is covered in scars, both from the Joker and other things he's experienced. But the 'Y' shaped scar on his chest is strictly off limits. If you were to ever accidentally brush your hand across it while laying with him or something, he wouldn't lash out, but he'd certainly guide your hand away by gently grasping your wrist.

AK! Jason Todd who never wants to see you involved with anything he does or his plans. He thinks that his activities are far too dangerous for you, even if you do happen to be somebody who's capeable of holding your own in combat or other high-stress situations.

-----------------------------

Masterlist

[jonjaydami]

Ok so we have all seen those posts talking about Bruce looking at his kids and still seeing them as his precious babies even though they are towering muscular adults right?

Well I raise you clark seeing them the same way but through step dad vision. Cause honestly he didn't come into Bruce's life until a bit later and by then he already had Robin by their first meeting. Of course Bruce didn't trust clark to even be in his city let alone around his kid but any chance he was in Gotham for any reason Dick was asking to use him as a "super jungle gym" and was dangling off his limbs.

Now don't get clark wrong he likes kids! But kids actually make him nervous. Not only did he grow up on a farm pretty isolated in a small town that didn't have many people so not like he was a baby sitter. But also...batman makes him nervous and for good reason to.

But the closer he got to him the more he was allowed around the kids especially (depending on what universe your shoving these characters into but this is my version) after he saved Jason from getting killed by the joker and he batman started to trust him a lot more. Jason was in awe but is definitely a wonder women fan. Which is fine because Clark is also a fan of hers and have written many articles about her as a hero. Jason always found a way at any gala or event to fallow clark around and pretend to also be a journalist and ask people questions. But he did them way more accusing and got several people to whisper. Bruce was amused but also just tired of his kids wanting to be around clark. The man was a goody two shoes.

When Steph comes around and eventually Barbara and even Cassie they ask a LOT of questions and not the kind of ones like Tim (who upon their first meeting tore off his glasses and asked him why he uses them as a disguise when it doesn't even work) *note they work very well at disguising him Tim just doesn't understand how other people just CANNOT see superman when looking at him*

Duke had to be the most tamed out of every. Single. One. Of Bruce's kids. He was polite and even shook his hand. He was expecting questions or insults of some sort but when none came he was shocked to say the least. He didn't sleep for days afterwards.

The next and last was Damian who after years of experience with Bruce's kids he believed he was ready....he was in fact not ready. Damian not only insulted him, threatened, and snuck into his apartment to "scope out the enemies territory" really he was in trouble and didn't like Bruce grounding him so he went over there to pick a fight.

In all reality dealing with thr kids for so long ended him and Bruce becoming closer and closer and eventually getting together and tying the knot. Now that they are all grown adults he just CANNOT see them as such.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damin at the ripe age of 22: Die alien!!

Clark *holding back tears*: you used to say that when you were 13

~~~~~~~~~~

The batkids *arguing*

Clark *Looking at them. Just to see a bunch of teenagers and children*: you see it to right?

Bruce *taking a sip from his mug*: it never changed

[thefirstlioveyou]

Mike only fights back against bullies after they hurt someone he loves, but never for himself.

When he was tripped? When he was pressured to jump off a cliff? he just took it and never fought against it later. He never got back at them for it.

Mike's learned to take it, but he's ashamed of it. Watching back the clip where they trip him, you can notice Mike is trying not to cry. You can hear it in his voice with the way it cracks and shakes, and especially with the noise he makes at the end. He hides how they actually make him feel.

He tries to hide the real reason why he had a mark on a chin from el, afraid she'd think of him as a wastoid/loser. He just wanted one person - just one - to not think of him the way he thinks everyone else does - the way he thinks of himself.

He hides the reason for the bruise from the first girl that's ever shown interest in him. He doesn't tell his parents. (there is zero implication his parents are aware of the bullying until finally when his son is wanted by the whole town s4. karen is right there in front of him to see the scab but we never see acknowledgment from her). There's a good chance nobody but Dustin and El know about the whole cliff thing.

We are explicitly told how Will and El feel about the bullying and hate they've faced in their life, but not Mike. They are hiding him cause LOOK AT HOW HES OUT OF FOCUS IN BOTH OF THESE SCENES!! DURING THESE LINES!!!

MIKE UNDERSTANDS THEM. He knows where they're coming from!! why isn't he just saying that? pride. shame. fear. downplaying his emotions because his parents have taught him what he thinks/feels/does does not matter. not that they insult him.. they just ignore him or things that matter to him. that's enough to make a child feel insignificant.

buddy all you did was slightly open up about feeling not needed and insulted yourself in the process...

karen failing to call it by the actual name implies she doesn't remember details about him -- the things that matter to him. his correction implies it's important to him that she refers to it by its actual name, and this is most likely not the first time he corrects her by the way he says it casually.

the fact mike has zero reaction to any of this implies this is a normal thing for him to hear in his house (another instance in which he doesn't defend himself from insults, because he himself believes it)

His parents do not go to him. They do not intervene and rather wait for him to feel better on his own. Mind you this is a 12-14 year old boy. Why on earth is it all on him to manage alone???

"how is this bad?"

this plays exactly after we get a scene of Joyce not confronting Jonathan - her son - crying in his bedroom. Jonathan is parentified. He doesn't receive the same attention he needs as a child the way Will does because he needed to help provide. Although they're entirely different situations from each other (put down the fucking pitchforks), they both include a parent avoiding emotional connection with a child that's dealing with grief to let them take care of it by themselves. this is a clear parallel that's meant to be noticed.

they continue to just wait for mike to fix it all himself.

Mike feels worthless. He feels like a loser. He feels like he doesn't belong the same way El and Will do. He doesn't feel needed. But he's not gonna say it because he's learnt it doesn't matter. We have all the reasons to believe why he would feel that way.

Instead, during scenes where Will and El talk about bullying making them feel worthless, the director and cinematographer will simply just make sure he's in the background and out of focus, much like he his to his parents. Much like he is to the GA. Much like how it feels to suffer from depression.

[satorulovebot]

cursed seas chapter six | the lakes

pairing — satoru gojou x fem!reader

summary — all your life you’ve been taught to hate pirates and the sins they have committed against god. you've always strived to be a good citizen upholding the law and avoiding the lawless, but when you meet the infamous captain gojou, known to be dangerous and cunning, you realize that survival in this world often requires sacrifices. sometimes, that sacrifice is your sanity.

word count — 5.6k

warnings — nsfw (minors dni), explicit sexual content, fellatio, cunnilingus, explicit smut, profanity, alcohol consumption, heavy angst, age difference

notes — this is like my second time writing smut in like 2 years gimmie a break pls. anyways. hello to my cursed seas babies, don't worry i will never abandon my og child you can be assured its my first priority, unless i have writers block which unfortunately happened and thats why this chapter is short and why i SEVERELY dislike it. enjoy ;)

series masterlist // pinterest moodboard // general masterlist

♪ the lakes — taylor swift

previous chap. you're on your own, kid | next chap. (coming coon)

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of your father's small, cozy home, casting warm light across the room as you silently folded the last of your clothing into a worn leather bag.

Your father sat at the table in the dining room, watching you with a pensive expression, his hands resting on his lap. It had been a few days since you returned to Elysport, and in that time, he had treated you like the little girl he had lost so many years ago. Considering your relationship over the last few years, the affection he had shown you was more than you had expected.

“Are you sure you want to go? There might be another way to find out what happened to your mother.” 

You paused, looking down at your packed bag before facing him. “Father I’m sure. There are things I need to know—about Mom. And I think this is the only way I will get any answers.”

He frowned, his brows furrowing. “Alright, but promise me something—promise me you’ll be safe.”

You nodded. “I promise,” you whispered.

He wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. You didn't want to leave, not really. This small part of Elysport, your father’s home—it was a sanctuary compared to the madness of the ship you were about to return to. But you had made your choice and you knew that you couldn’t stay here forever.

“I’ll be back,” you said softly, “Soon.”

Your father smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be here, waiting.” 

With a final glance around the room, you hoisted your bag over your shoulder and headed for the door. 

Making your way through the streets of Elysport gave you time to think about what going back to Gojou’s ship meant. And it meant diving headfirst into a world of chaos once again and having to face him after everything that had happened.

And you didn't like that idea. 

The docks soon came into view and you could see the massive silhouette of Gojou’s ship towering above the rest. You hesitated as you stood at the pier's edge, watching crew members bustling about, preparing for the next leg of their journey. 

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and began walking toward the gangplank. You found him near the helm overseeing his ship as he usually would. When he spotted you approaching, his eyes widened briefly before narrowing in that familiar way that made your stomach twist.

“Back already?”

You set your bag down, taking a deep breath before answering. “I told you I’d be back last night.”

Gojou’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. He looked at you for a moment before shrugging and turning his attention back to the crew.

"Well, you're just in time. We're setting sail soon. Grab your things and get ready." 

You waited for more—some snide comment, some half-hearted insult—but it never came. His voice lacked that usual bite and he avoided directly looking at you, which was strange in itself. 

It was strange, this new version of him—one that didn’t bark orders or throw insults your way at every opportunity. 

It was... comforting in a way.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of something bright—a familiar tuft of pink hair. Yuuji was perched high in the crow's nest, his energy impossible to miss, even from afar.  He instantly noticed you, his face lighting up as he waved enthusiastically, calling your name across the deck. You couldn’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you at the sight of him. His energy was infectious and his kindness was a rare comfort. You lifted your hand in return, waving back.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you found yourself standing near the railing watching the waves lap against the side of the ship. You heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Captain Gojou approaching.

He leaned against the railing beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between the two of you like a taught wire.

“You won’t ask why I let you back so easily?” 

You glanced at him, surprised by the question. “I figured you just wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible,” you said, your words laced with a hint of bitterness.

Gojou chuckled, though there was no real humor in it. “Yeah, well... maybe I’m not as heartless as you think.”

You raised an eyebrow, not sure if you believed him. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He winced at that, and for a moment, you thought he might snap back at you, but instead, he just sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m not good at this... at any of this. You want to hate me, I get that. Hell, maybe I deserve it. But I’m trying, alright?” His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. The Gojou standing next to you wasn’t the arrogant, reckless captain you had grown accustomed to.

“I don’t hate you,” you said quietly. “But you make it really hard sometimes.”

Gojou let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m good at that.” He paused, his expression softening. “But I meant what I said. You did good back there. And... I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe the Gojou who you had kissed so desperately in that hotel room was not as far away as you thought. The waves lapped steadily against the ship’s hull, the sound calming as you stood in silence next to Gojou.

“About earlier,” he began. “When I left your room… I just—” He paused, seemingly frustrated, like he was trying to find the right words. “I didn’t mean to be such an ass.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden confession. “You always mean to be an ass.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But not like that. Not this time.”

You turned to face him, fully leaning against the railing. The fading evening light casting shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the pale strands of his hair that moved gently with the breeze. When you looked at him, you didn’t see the infamous captain you had grown to know—he looked… tired. 

“It’s not like you to apologize. What’s going on?”

He frowned, his gaze dropping to the deck below, his hand absently drumming against the wooden railing. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “It’s just… you’ve been different. This whole situation has been different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he began slowly, as if testing each word before saying it, “I don’t know why I keep pushing you away when I don’t want to.”

Your heart fluttered at his confession. He wasn’t the type to open up easily—especially about things like this. And for him to admit that he didn’t want to push you away… it was almost too much to process.

“But you do,” you pointed out, your voice barely above a whisper. “You push me away every chance you get.”

He let out a long sigh, his head dropping for a moment before he straightened, running a hand through his hair. “I know. It’s just… easier, I guess.” His gaze finally met yours, and the sincerity in his blue eyes was enough to take your breath away. “I’ve lost a lot of people. Crew, friends, family.” His voice grew quieter. “It’s easier not to get attached.”

“And me?” you asked softly, your voice barely above the sound of the waves. “Am I just another person to lose?”

Gojou hesitated, his gaze never leaving yours. “I don’t want you to be.”

This wasn’t just the arrogant, reckless captain speaking—this was Satoru, the man behind the mask. And the way he looked at you in that moment, like he was finally seeing you for the first time, sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you could say anything more, Gojou spoke again, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “You’re really leaving your father for this?” he asked, his eyes flicking to your bag.

You nodded. “I need to know the truth about what happened to my mother. And… I need to find that treasure and be with the map.”

A shadow crossed his face at the mention of the map, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the horizon, his jaw clenched tight. You knew he didn’t like talking about the map—it was the one thing that seemed to come between the two of you time and time again.

“I’ll take you back onboard. But I need you to understand something.” He turned to face you fully now, his expression serious. “This isn’t a game. Whatever you’re getting yourself into with Sukuna, it’s dangerous. It's more dangerous than you realize. I don’t trust him or whatever he is up to.”

Sukuna. 

That must have been the man with the pink hair you were talking to in the marketplace. You didn’t expect Gojou to know who he was, or at least know him enough to have that look on his face.

“I know,” you said quietly, meeting his gaze. “But I have to do this.”

Then, slowly, Gojou nodded, as if finally accepting your decision. “Fine,” he said, his voice resigned. “But if anything happens, I’ll kill Sukuna myself.”

Without another word, Gojou turned and began walking back toward the ship, his usual swagger returning with each step. You followed, your heart pounding in your chest, the thought of what lay ahead heavy on your mind.

Captain Gojou leaned against the ship's railing, gazing out at the ocean and the small port where they’d docked. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and workers from the docks were beginning to head home. His crew had grown restless after days without a break, so he’d ordered a stop at a quieter port for some shore leave. But he hadn’t been completely honest about why he gave the order—it was mostly for the map. He wanted a chance to study it carefully and had recently decided they would soon start the journey it promised, especially now that you had rejoined them. The treasure it led to was dangerous, and he knew he’d need a solid plan if he, you, and his crew were going to make it out alive.

After a moment of contemplation, he looked over his shoulder and spotted you coming up from below deck. He grinned, giving you a casual wave. “Looks like everyone’s scattered,” he said. “You wanna go for a walk?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, sure. But what’s the reason?”

“Because I asked you nicely, Y/N.”

“Fine, I could use some fresh air anyway. Your ship’s unnaturally stuffy.”

Before the two of you departed the ship, Gojou made his way to his captain’s quarters to stow the map away safely. You assumed it was for security reasons, considering how much of a pain in the ass he’d been when trying to take it from you. After he returned, you both took off your shoes and walked down the gangplank together, stepping into the shallow water and heading down the beach toward the port town. Gojou’s ship was too large to fit in the small port, so he’d had to anchor it a little way off the coast. It was a bit of a hassle, but you didn’t mind.

You and Gojou had made it halfway down the beach before he broke the silence. "You know, I wasn't born a pirate."

You turned to him, surprised by his revelation. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed. Although, now that I think about it, you seem like a child who was spoiled far more than he should have been."

He gave a small shrug. "Pretty much. When I was a child, I ran away from home. I had met a young pirate, the same age as me, and he showed me another side of life. The place where I grew up felt like a prison and I wanted out."

"Oh. What happened?" you asked quietly.

"My family… my family had high expectations for me. They expected me to marry another girl from a rich family, a girl I had never met, a girl I didn't love. They expected me to be the head of the family when my father died and live up to the Gojou family legacy. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I left in the middle of the night. No one came looking, either.” His voice softened. “Guess they were happy to be rid of me.”

"Was it hard to live like that?"

"I stole for a little while, I had no name, no ship, and barely any money. After a few months to a year, I was able to make a living for myself and I never looked back."

“You never went back? Not even to see how your family is doing?”

"No, my father was a bastard and could have given two shits about how his own family felt about him. I actually spent some time living in Saltstone Port when I was eighteen, it wasn't too bad. You used to live there, right?"

Wait how did he know that?

"Anyway, we're almost there, do you wanna find a bar? Since you know, you like drinking."

“Who said I like drinking?”

“I did,” he said with a smirk.

And that's how the two of you found yourself in a dimly lit corner of a booth, ordering round after round as a way to “unwind” as Gojou said. Somehow, unwinding meant downing enough drinks to make the room spin. 

“To—” He paused, squinting at you. “To us, and to making it through yet another day without you murdering me,” he toasted, raising his mug with a smirk. You clinked your glass against his as you sipped, feeling the warmth of the alcohol seep into your veins. As the alcohol loosened you up, you began telling Captain Gojou things you shouldn’t have, things you probably won’t remember in the morning.

As the night went on, the two of you began inching closer and closer to each other. At some point, he’d moved his arm around your shoulders, and you’d stopped noticing, letting yourself melt into his warmth.

“Y’know,” he slurred, eyes glassy as he looked at you. “I always thought I was fine alone.”

You tilted your head, blinking slowly as you tried to focus on his face, which kept swimming in and out of view. “That so?” you mumbled, giggling as you took another sip of your drink. “Thought you liked being all ‘mysterious and distant,’ Captain.”

“I… I dunno.”

Your heart did a funny little skip, and you glanced up at him, your gaze meeting his. “Maybe it’s the drinks talking,” he muttered.  “Or maybe it’s just…you make things… less lonely.”

Gojou,” you started, but before you could finish, he leaned in, his lips brushing your forehead in a clumsy, affectionate gesture.

“I like having you around,” he mumbled. His gaze flicked down to the empty glasses on the table. “But we should… get back to the ship, yeah?”

You could barely remember the journey back to the ship. When you made it back to his ship, you stumbled towards his captain’s quarters, exhausted from your night out. As you reached his bed, you tugged on your shirt, frowning. “Ugh, I can’t sleep in this. It’s filthy.” The fabric was sticky and wrinkled, and the thought of crawling into bed with it on was almost unbearable.

Gojou chuckled, leaning against the doorframe with a lopsided grin. “You’re a bit of a handful, you know that?”

Ignoring his teasing, you started to strip off your clothes, too tired and too drunk to care about modesty. You caught the faintest widening of his eyes before he quickly looked away, a strange sort of awkwardness flashing over his face.

“Better than being boring,” you retorted, your voice muffled as you ducked under the covers, the warmth of the bed wrapping around you. The soft linens felt heavenly, and you sank into them with a sigh, your eyes already drifting shut.

“Goodnight, Gojou,” you murmured, barely managing to keep your eyes open as you watched him from beneath half-closed lids.

“Goodnight,” he said softly. He hesitated, his hand resting on the doorframe for a moment longer, before he finally slipped out of the room, leaving you to the gentle lull of sleep.

When morning came, the sunlight filtered softly through the small window. You stretched, blinking sleepily as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. The memory of the previous night came flooding back, and as you shifted beneath the covers, you became very aware that you were still bare under the blanket. You stifled a groan, recalling your insistence on sleeping without your filthy clothes, and your face flushed with embarrassment. At least Gojou had seemed too out of it to really care.

Quickly, you climbed out of bed, searching the room until you found your discarded clothes from the night before. You tugged them on hastily, smoothing out the wrinkles and trying to compose yourself as best you could.

You stepped out onto the deck, the salty morning air filling your lungs as you glanced around. You wanted to ask him something, and to ask him that something you needed to find him first. You managed to find him perched on a higher part of the deck. Noticing your footsteps, he turned around and before he could speak you opened your mouth first.

“I need a bath.”

The words left your mouth with a bluntness that surprised even you. You were covered in grime from the ship and smelled like salt from the sea, it made every inch of your skin itch for a proper soak. After days of being at sea, all you wanted to do was feel clean.

“Well, this place doesn’t exactly have the best facilities for that,” he said, surveying the streets. “But… I might know a spot.”

You tilted your head. “Not exactly helpful, Captain.”

“Follow me, then. It’s a bit of a walk, but if you’re willing, I’ll show you a river that’s a hell of a lot nicer than any of the baths in town.”

You and Gojou made your way out of the port city and through winding paths that eventually opened up to a dense forest just beyond the edge of town. Gojou was quiet as he guided you through the bush towards the spot, glancing back at you every now and then.

The two of you reached a clearing where the trees parted to reveal a serene river winding through the open land. The water sparkled underneath the sun, so crystal clear and inviting it nearly hurt to look at.

“Not bad, huh?” Gojou said, standing beside you.

“It’s… beautiful.”

Gojou shrugged, feigning indifference. “It’ll do the job. Go on.”

Your gaze looked to him as he leaned against a tree, arms crossed, watching you with a smirk. “What, you think I’m just going to strip down right here?” you teased.

“Not my fault if you can’t handle a little river bath. Besides, who’s gonna see?”

With a deep breath, you started to peel off your outer layers, feeling the rough fabric leave your skin before carefully folding it on a rock nearby. You kept your eyes trained on the river, trying to ignore that he was sneaking glances, but you secretly didn’t mind. You turned to meet his gaze before turning your back to him, realizing how close the two of you actually were.

Once you shimmied out of the rest of your clothes, you waded into the river, the chill of the water sending goosebumps through your body. You went deeper into the water, washing away the grime and heat of the day. When you turned back, you saw that Gojou hadn't moved from his spot; he simply watched from where he stood.

“You know, the water’s plenty big enough for two,” you called out to him, splashing in his direction with a grin. “Or are you too scared of a little cold?”

Something mischievous sparkled in his eyes. You think I’m scared of a little cold water?”

He began unbuckling his belt with a smirk, tugging his shirt over his head and dropping it onto the ground. His toned frame caught the sunlight, the faint scars scattered across his torso telling stories he rarely spoke of. “Let’s see who’ll be begging to get out first,” he teased.

Your eyes trailed down his body as he began walking into the water. When your eyes made it toward his pelvis before you had to stop yourself from going any lower, reminding yourself it was indecent.

“It's as warm as the sea,” you teased, floating on your back and letting the gentle current carry you.

“No, but it’s a hell of a lot quieter.”

The two of you were naked, but you didn’t seem to mind, and neither did he.

“So, where did you learn to be so comfortable in the water?” he asked, kicking lazily as he floated beside you.

“My father,” you replied, glancing up at the canopy of leaves overhead. “He used to bring me to rivers like this when I was a kid. Said it was the best way to wash away the world for a while.”

Gojou nodded thoughtfully, his eyes studying you. “Smart man.”

​​You chuckled, meeting his gaze again. “He is. Sometimes I wonder if I’m disappointing him by being… here.” You gestured around you. “Running off to play pirate with people that are hardly respectable.”

“You’re not disappointing anyone,” he murmured, the words so soft you almost missed them. “And, honestly, I think it’s brave. Not many would have the guts to do what you’ve done.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly.

Gojou continued to float nearby as sunlight filtered through the trees overhead. He didn't try to hide the way his eyes roamed over your body, and you could feel he was growing bolder by the minute.

"You know, you clean up real nice," he muttered, his voice lower than usual.

You let out a small chuckle, feeling your cheeks warm under his intense stare. "I could say the same for you."

Silence enveloped the two of you as he drifted closer, standing up when he got close to you. You were in a shallow part of the water, which made the water about waist height. It was unfortunate that it was the only thing that covered his lower half because it was see-through. His fingers came up to brush your arm, lingering for a moment too long, the feeling sending a shiver down your spine.

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you two, standing so close that you could feel his warm breath fan your face. His hand drifted to your waist, feeling the soft, plush skin before sliding his hand around your back as his other hand came up to trace along your jaw. When you leaned in, you found yourself tilting your head up, your lips parting instinctively.

The kiss was soft at first, testing the waters in a way the two of you had only done once before. But then the kiss deepened, his fingers tightening on your waist as if he was afraid to let go. You let yourself melt into him, your own hands finding their way to his broad shoulders as you traced the muscles there, losing yourself in the kiss.

Gojou shifted the two of you, pressing you gently against the smooth edge of a nearby rock. One hand braced himself beside you against the rock with the other made its way down your backside.

His lips trailed along your jawline, sending sparks throughout your body, and when he kissed you again, it was like he was claiming something he had not dared touch before.

The kiss slowed as both of you caught your breath, still tangled in each other's arms as you steadied yourselves. Gojou's lips hovered near yours, his expression filled with desire.

"Hey," he murmured, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “If you're up for it… we don’t have to stay out here." His fingers traced gentle circles against your back. “There’s places in town. Places a bit more... private.”

You felt your pulse quicken and your heart race at his suggestion. “Yeah... let’s go.”

Neither of you wasted another second. Hands fumbling, you slipped back into your clothes, laughter and shared glances filling the space between you. Gojou helped you fasten a few buttons that wouldn’t cooperate. Once dressed, the two of you scrambled over rocks and brush, the cool evening air sharp against your skin after your bath—but in the heat of the moment, you hardly noticed.

You made your way back the way you came, with Satoru practically dragging you through town, looking for somewhere that wouldn’t ask too many questions. The sky was now dark, and the nightlife of the port had begun. Finally, he stopped in front of a modest hotel along a quiet street, breathing heavily from his excitement.

“Here,” he said.

You both hurried inside, catching the attention of the older man at the front desk. His eyebrow lifted as he eyed the two of you, taking in your windswept appearance and the clear look of anticipation you both wore. He sighed, passing you a key with a knowing look. “Just… keep it down, eh?”

A mischievous laugh escaped Gojou as he snagged the key and tossed you a wink. “No promises."

The two of you dashed up the narrow staircase, careful not to trip in your haste. When you finally found the room, Gojou fumbled with the key, his hands practically trembling as he tried to unlock the door. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him—a pirate captain, renowned for his cool composure, completely undone by anticipation.

“Need some help?" you teased, biting back a grin.

“Hey, keep that up and I might reconsider,” he shot back.

After fumbling with the key for a while, he finally managed to get it inside the lock and unlock the door. The room wasn't much, with only a small bed, a few chairs, and a vanity to decorate it, but it would do.

The two of you stumbled inside the room kissing fervently as he closed the door with his foot. You walked backward, leading him to the small bed in the center of the room.

“You're so beautiful to me,” he spoke in a hushed voice.

Your fingers reach up to his collar, gently pulling him down and pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss. Nothing prevented you from him when your fingers began to work on the already half-undone buttons of his shirt with slow and deliberate movements.

You continued your path to the bed and before long you felt the back of your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards on the plush cushions. The desire was mutual, you could see it in his eyes, and there was an urgent need to be closer on a level beyond words. Satoru moved his hands up and down your sides, caressing the curve of your back and touching the delicate skin of your waist.

He broke the kiss before moving down to your bust, removing the layers of your clothing to reveal your supple breasts. His pupils were fully blown completely covering his cerulean eyes, wanting to submit to his carnal desires. He leaned down kissing you once more, feeling the slopes of your breasts pressed against his chest in your lip-locking exchange.

You sat up before flipping the two of you over so you could be on top, a wave of confidence overtaking you. You slowly kissed down his body before reaching his trousers and undoing the ties of his breeches. Before you knew it, you were crawling off of his lap and laying on your stomach between his legs.

To be completely honest, you had never pleasured yourself before, let alone a man.

Your eyes widened as you pulled off his breeches, releasing his aching member that revealed a size that was proportional to his height.

"Sweetheart—ngh! Don't tease me like that."

You looked up at him with those beautiful doe eyes he had dreamed about, and he thinks he somehow got harder.

"But what if I want to?"

"Ah fuck, please sweetheart? I'm so hard already," he whined.

"Um, I don't really know how to do this… so please forgive me."

You had a friend back in Elysport who was a courtesan for the wealthy, often having sex with married men for money. You never judged her, as she was a friend, but she had taught you a couple of things including how to give a man a hand job, but you had never thought you would need to use it, not in a situation like this with a man like him.

Satoru looked down at you, and awaiting your next move he decided to wrap a hand around his cock.

"Fuck sweetheart," he moaned. "You don't know how many times I dreamed of doing this with you."

Something inside you awakened when he said that—something bold, you decided to replace his hand with your mouth. His deep and guttural moans were enough to encourage you to keep going and take his entire length.

Your mouth is so warm and fuck babe was all you could hear him say. It gave you a confidence boost hearing his constant praise.

You continued until he suddenly tugged your hair, pulling you off his cock. Frowning, you looked at him wondering why he did that when he seemed to be enjoying it.

"Sorry, sweetheart, I was about to cum."

Disappointed you made your way back up his body, kissing him deeply once more. He flipped the two of you over so he was back on top, kissing your neck and feathering soft kisses around the bruised skin before moving down to your breasts. He alternated between both of them, giving them equal amounts of attention by biting and sucking at the flesh and biting at your nipple.

"S-Satoru," you moaned, arching your back to meet his chest, as he descended further and further own your body to where you needed him the most. On his way down, he muttered a "Lift your legs." before removing your soaked pair of panties that he threw somewhere in the room, not caring where they landed. He was quick to dive head-first into your sopping cunt, lapping at your entrance with his tongue, exploring your walls until you were softly moaning his name.

"Fuck you taste so sweet," you could hear his muffled voice from between your legs. He encircled his thumb on your sensitive bud before looking back at your slit, slightly spreading your lips apart to look at your weeping hole. He sat up, grabbing hold of his cock and rubbing it up and down your slit, teasing you to the point of tears.

"S-Satoru, Please!"

"Fuck. Good Girl," he muttered before sliding himself in.

“Ngh—! Y-You—aaah!” You could feel your body being dragged back and forth, your hips being jostled as he continued to sink himself into you.

He was insatiable, he couldn't get enough of the tightness of your cunt. He was moaning loudly from the feeling of your warm, velvet walls milking his cock. He continued to thrust inside you, sitting up with his hands on your hips, keeping you steady as he rammed his cock inside you.

"That's it, gotta stretch you out," he says. “You’re taking me so well,” he groans, burying his face in your neck.

"Satoru," you moan, your walls clenching around his length. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer as you feel the ends of his soft hair.

He knows what he's doing, and you can feel that smirk he always has on his lips but surprisingly, he peppers kisses on your neck before he pulls away.

"Can you get on all fours?" he asks, halting his thrusts.

Wanting to please him, you quickly get on all fours and he immediately presses you back down onto the mattress. He lifts your ass as you arch your back even more. He palms the flesh of your ass in his hands before entering you once more.

You gasp, clutching the sheets in your small hands. When Satoru notices this he moves to interlock your fingers, pressing his chest against your back to pound into you.

"Satoru, ah—" you whine.

"I know, I know," he grunts. You can feel your walls tightening around his thick cock "Fuck—so good." you moan.

“Gonna make you cum so hard.”

His balls slapping against your ass feels euphoric, leaving you breathless and wanting to reach your orgasm. A couple of more thrusts against your g-spot bring you the most incredible orgasm.

“Fuck Sweetheart, I’m close.”

It takes a few more thrusts before his movements become erratic and you feel his cock twitch inside you. You feel his sweaty forehead drop against your shoulder as you both struggle to catch your breath. After a few moments, he lifts his head off your shoulder and moves to lie next to you. You flip yourself on your side, eyes focused on the ship's wooden panels as your chest heaves.

You feel Satoru shift next to you, pressing his chest to your back as he wraps his arms around you.

“Thank you, baby. Thank you.”

© satorulovebot 2024 please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my work.

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[silhouetteonpaper]

Benched

Summary: You’re cut from participating in missons for the foreseeable future; the news was delivered by none other than your girlfriend, Natasha. The torturous break from Avenging seems to be unfair... until you hear the other perspective. Natasha Romanoff x Reader WC: 2,393 Warnings/Themes: Angst, fluff, gun use, killing, repressing memories

“I’m sorry?” You weren’t sure if you had heard Natasha’s words correctly; her serious tone didn’t match the saddened look on her face. She was standing across from you as you sat at the empty conference table, summoned only moments ago by the Widow herself.

“We’re benching you from missions until we feel you’re ready.” They didn’t sound any more real this time, either. Natasha, your mentor and girlfriend was telling you to sit the next few missions out. Actually, she was forcing you to sit every mission out for the foreseeable future. You were furious, but tried to keep composed as to not dig a deeper grave.

“Until you feel I’m ready? That’s subjective, how long will it take?” You questioned with crossed arms, your shoulders stuck by your ears out of defense. You’d never been like this around Nat; closed off, defensive, angry. She’d never needed to bar you from missions like this, so it was a first for the both of you.

“We feel your actions on the last mission require some time off.” She explained, noticing the unrelenting confused yet frustrated expression on your face. Natasha felt bad, she was only following the orders of her superiors. They believed that making her relay this information would soften the blow, but as your girlfriend it didn’t make it any easier.  “Look,” She walked around the table, sitting beside you. Her hand found your knee, a soft touch forcing you to unfurl your brows slightly. “This isn’t a punishment. We just want to make sure you’re okay mentally after what happened.”

She was referring to the events of yesterday's mission, something you had hoped would just get buried under the rug. It was supposed to be a simple interrogation; the team would press the target to find some confidential information. The only issue was that the target had a liking for pushing people’s buttons. His jabs were relentless, spitting insults about the people he’d killed like they were nothing.

You were only supposed to hold the gun to his head in a daunting, coercive way. So you did, for a while anyways—until he stated something you didn’t believe was humanly true.

“I don’t regret killing them.” His words had turned your blood to ice, the pointer finger stationed over the trigger shaking out of anger. He was talking about the people he killed to get close to the Avengers. Some of them being your family, the people you loved most. His greedy play was wiping pawns off the table, when in reality they were more than just objects. Natasha was originally reluctant to include you on this mission, due to your emotional connection. But this man had targeted many of the Avenger’s closest relatives, so if she benched you she’d have to bench everyone else.

It turned out she’d have to bench you anyways, as you broke protocol within seconds of his nasty comment. The gun echoed through the cellar you were all stationed in, the man suddenly going quiet as his head lolled to the side. The main source of intel for one of the biggest missions was dead. Everyone’s heads turned toward the responsible weapon; there you were, eyes wide with a smoking gun still held to his head.

After being escorted back to the compound between silent teammates, you locked yourself in your room for the night. Natasha tried to come in, knocking on your bedroom door every so often with tempting offers of cookies or movie nights, but you wouldn’t budge. The next morning, hushed whispers greeted you the second you entered the kitchen. It was obvious they were talking about you, but you couldn’t have cared less. You knew what you did was wrong, and were ready to move on. So, you acted like it didn’t happen.

Maybe that worried the team even more, especially Natasha. You weren’t one to move on from things so quick, especially considering the grudge you held for the man responsible for all that death. Breaking protocol like that and shooting an important hostage was even more out of character, you knew the importance of his intel. Running on impulse, especially in regard to your emotions was unusual, it would be for any trained agent.

But it all caught up with you, and clearly the team discussed a plan of action behind your back. They believed your slip up was more than just a mistake—that there was something deeper behind it. It was slightly offensive, seeing them assume you were emotionally inept that they didn’t even include you in the conversation. You didn’t even think hard enough on what happened to realize maybe they were right; instead you shoved it deep down inside. Now, the truth was facing you head-on, and there was no escaping it.

This isn’t a punishment? You repeated Natasha’s words in your head. It sure felt like one, your favorite thing in life being withheld like a kid getting their iPad taken away. Everyone knew how much your work meant to you, so why would they take away the one thing you loved doing? Besides, you felt fine mentally. The past was in the past, and you were ready to move forward.

“I’m fine, I swear. Please, Nat—don’t take me out of the running just because I made a mistake.” You pleaded, looking to her with a softened expression. The two of you were close, having been in an official relationship for months now. But this was uncharted territory, and the thread connecting you both was slipping as this new side of you was showing. It was her turn to become defensive as she withdrew her hand.

“A mistake? You killed our most important hostage! If you weren’t one of our top agents, Fury would’ve had you fired!” She was right, but you weren’t going to admit that. Instead you huffed, leaning back in your chair as your gaze found anywhere to look but at Natasha.

“I couldn’t let him get away with what he did.” You muttered, shaking your head. Natasha took a deep breath, concern slowly rising across her face. It was easy to see the hurt on your face, even without directly mentioning your family. They were your everything, and he killed them like they were nothing. But two wrongs don’t make a right, every agent knew that. You should’ve known that. And she didn’t want you to jeopardize your job—your passion, over your stubbornness. She leaned toward you slowly, her eyebrows lowering.

“See, this is what scares me. You knew we’d find justice eventually, but you could’t wait and it blew the entire mission.” Natasha spoke carefully, her words making your stomach churn. Scared?Blew the entire mission? Even for her, these were hasty conclusions to draw.

You crossed your arms again. “What are you insinuating?” To say you blew the entire mission was harsh, even if it was true. An agent would never blame another, not directly like this; especially when that agent was your girlfriend. You knew there was more to it, the ice hidden underneath her tone queued you in.

“That now your family will never get the justice they deserve.” Her words are like knives, stabbing straight into your heart. You weren’t sure if she was trying to break you, or if she truly felt this way. That your mistake cost the entire mission, one that was supposed to avenge your dead relatives. Your eyes went wide with shock, expression frozen as you processed the very words that left her lips. They weren’t coming from your girlfriend; the girl you loved would never say such a thing.

Natasha doesn’t flinch, yet unbeknownst to you she was heartbroken on the inside. You both felt like a stranger was standing opposite, your actions and her words causing a rift between the connection that was strong mere days ago. You were impatient, emotional, and couldn’t follow the stupid protocol, and now it may have cost your job and maybe even your girlfriend.

Your eyes narrowed, oozing with betrayal. “You don’t mean that.” Words softer than the hardened expression painting your face, you were almost speechless. Once again, Natasha left you questioning if what she said was actually true, or just a figment of your imagination.

She nodded once, slowly, like a predator bowing its head to prey. You were officially benched, and there was no arguing your way out of it.

—————-

2 weeks, 4 days, 1 hour, and 37 minutes had passed since you were forced to stay within the many walls of the compound. Not like anyone was counting, though. Although spacious and full of various forms of entertainment, the large facility made you feel restless after the first day. You grew bored, itching to get your hands on new cases or even old mission reports.

The quinjet was taunting you. Standing outside the large glass window, calling your name as you sat inside waiting for the go-ahead. But as the hours, days, and weeks passed, it never came. You hadn’t spoken to Natasha since the fight—only exchanging quick glances through narrowed eyes or inconspicuous expressions in passing. Instead, you bothered everyone else about it.

“No, you’re still on temp-leave,” someone would say. “Take some time to relax, focus on yourself.” More voices would eventually join in. It was unrelenting; the only ‘self-care’ you cared about was the one thing that genuinely made you happy: Avenging. But everyone was stuck following orders, keeping you locked inside the compound with your own self to blame.

When everyone left you alone at the compound to go on missions, It gave you time to reflect. You paced the halls replaying the mission over and over, eventually shaking your head as the memory morphed into the shape of your family. You didn’t want to think about them, so you simply filled your time with busywork in order to keep the hurt at bay.

After picking up a few new hobbies, discovering some newfound talents, and recovering old favorite pastimes, you still felt a hole where Avenging used to be. You missed it, and this time off was making you feel worse, if anything. On the 20th day, you built up the courage to talk with Natasha. She was tame the past few days, finally offering you the occasional smile when you made the team dinner, or handing you baked goods when she went on her usual coffee run.

Natasha was sitting in the empty living room, typing on her laptop as she glanced between the screen and some mission reports. “Hey,” you spoke softly, sitting down on the couch opposite of her. Her green eyes popped up, eyebrows lifting ever-so-slightly. You had her attention. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have belittled my actions that hurt other people, it was truly more than just a mistake and I feel terrible about it.” You were speaking truthfully, and Nat could tell; but she wasn’t satisfied.

Shutting her laptop, she stacked her work off to the side with full intrigue. “Tell me, have you thought about your parents during this time off?” She questioned. You swallowed thickly, immediately regretting your half-assed apology when there was more to it than just feeling bad about your actions. You hadn’t thought about your parents, mostly on purpose; and Natasha was hoping to get after exactly that.

“Look, love,” Her tone softened slightly, and the use of the nickname made you feel even the smallest bit more comfortable. She was still yours, and you were still hers, it was all just on hiatus for the moment—like your job. “This break wasn’t supposed to be time for you to feel bad about what you did. It was time for you to process what happened.” Natasha stood, moving to sit next to you as her words made the air catch in your lungs.

“You can’t change the fact your family has passed, and I need you to have a chance to grieve before we send you back onto the field.” To an average person, everything she was saying made sense. But the issue was, you didn’t want to pause and take the time to process what happened. You wanted to swallow it all and move on to whatever job would come next. But Natasha knew the dangers of that.

You took a deep breath, your gaze finding the floor. “I told you, Nat. I’m fine to go out onto the field. I’ve thought over everything and I feel ready.” You countered, eyes meeting hers as you really tried to convince her. She found your hand, gripping it tightly with both of hers.

“Then tell me exactly what he did to your parents.” Her words hit your chest like a boulder, all of the air you once had no longer existing as your breathing stopped. It was a test, and she knew you wouldn’t be able to answer without breaking down. And fortunately for her, it worked. Tears welled in your eyes, the flood of emotion hitting the wall you built in an attempt to avoid it. But it wasn’t strong enough this time, Natasha knew all the right buttons to push. You gave in, allowing each tear, each sob, to have a chance to see the light as you leaned into Natasha.

“That’s it.” She cooed, pulling you close into her shoulder. Her hands ran through your hair, offering a comforting touch you desperately missed. The person she loved dearly was slowly coming back, the agent who wasn’t just a stone-cold face ready to suppress all emotion in the name of work. Being an Avenger wasn’t just about being brave for others, it was about being your best self so you were capable of offering that support on the field. The entire time, you missed the true meaning of the hiatus.

But now, you were back on track. Natasha was glad to see you finally start the long road to processing your grief, and she’d be there the entire journey. You were grateful to have her, and suddenly even more grateful she gave you the time off in the first place. If you weren’t so naive and stubborn, maybe it would have been easier for you in the long run. But that didn’t matter, because with Natasha, time felt like it didn’t exist.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Command Me

Feyd Rautha X Plus Size! Y/N - drabble/series - 1.7K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: the Voice, mention of nudity, female reader, horny behaviors but no sex, voyerism, violence (nothing graphic), bad ass reader, enemies to lovers

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“Stay in there and keep quiet.” the guard said as he tossed you to the floor after locking a device around your head.

You instinctively tried to pry it away but it stayed put, you were unable to speak let alone scream to be let out. You looked around the room; it looked like everything else on Giedi Prime - dark and lonely. Not even the blinding light from their black sun could penetrate the room. You had been sent to Giedi Prime as an offering. A wife for the Na-Baron now that you had both reached maturity. You knew you were fated to him, you had known your whole life. Plans within plans. The Bene Gesserit had made you just as much as they made Paul Atreides. You were from Tleilaxu. Both the Bene Gesserit and the Bene Tleilax had engineered your creation over generations, you would be the one to bring about a challenger to Paul Atredies’ heirs. And as fate would have it, a Harkonnen was the strongest match you could have. A vile race that nobody in the universe had anything good to say about. You had always known your purpose but now that you were starting to live it, you wanted nothing more than to run away or disappear all together. You had met Feyd Rautha once when you were both 15. He was a strange boy who took pleasure in others' pain. He had shown you a beating heart from a maid he had killed before you ran back to your mother screaming. After that you hadn’t seen him or had any contact. 

Until today.

The door to the room opened, you lifted your head from your hands and quickly scooted away from the intruder until your back was against the wall. The door shut and the room was once again encased in darkness but you could see the man's striking white skin. His eyes were dark and you could feel them on you. He knelt in front of you, you raised your hand to strike him but he caught your wrist. All you could hear was your heavy breathing and your heartbeat in your ears. 

“You are just as simple as I remember, Tleilaxan.” he said, grabbing your chin and looking you over. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was one to talk. Tleilaxan were pale just like Harkonnen. Black eyes just like Harkonnen. The only physical difference between you two was that you had hair and your teeth weren’t black, they were slightly pointed. You grunted, trying to combat his insult but the gagging device on your head stopped you. He let go of your chin harshly, tossing your head to one side. 

“I remember you, ya know. How frightened of me you were when we were teenagers. Running away to your mother like a child. How pathetic.” he said as he stood up. 

The lights in the room finally illuminated. You blinked a few times adjusting to your surroundings, it was a bedroom chamber. It looked lived in but neat; you stood but kept a distance between you and the man who you could now fully see - Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. He was different from the last time you saw him. Not as scrawny. Still lean but he filled out his armor with plenty of muscle. His face was much sharper. His eyes were sullen and distant. He looked cold, dangerous. You pulled at your gag again, trying your hardest to get it off. You could feel some sort of mechanism in the back, you could tell it required a key. 

“This is our quarters. We will share it but I expect you to make yourself scarce.” Feyd said, walking towards you. “You will stay here until the wedding in a few days.” his eyes searched your face but you weren’t sure what he was looking for.

You kept your gaze stern. You weren't afraid of him; you weren't a scared child running back to your mother. You were Tleiaxu, a Face Dancer. If anyone should be afraid, it’s him. You shapeshifted into an exact copy of Feyd. His eyes widened, stepping back slightly. You walked closer to him, your gaze never leaving him. The Bene Gesserit had made you more than a capable fighter. To be the wife of Feyd Rautha they had not only trained you in their ways of battle and the voice but had you train with the especially brutal Sardaukar. You kicked at Feyds knee when you were close enough. He countered your strike, holding your ankle and twisting it. You dropped to the floor, using your other foot to kick Feyd over your head. He released your ankle due to the sheer force with which you kicked him. You rolled backwards, straddling Feyds chest where you locked his arms between your legs. He kicked and thrusted trying to move you but you remained solid. You glared down at him, pointing at your gag. He chuckled, moving his hand slightly towards his pocket. You clenched your thighs tighter, stopping him from moving completely. You reached inside his pocket, finding something akin to a key. Quickly you unlocked your gag, tossing it across the room. You rubbed your jaw finally letting the muscles loosen. In your distracted state Feyd thrusted his legs up, catching your shoulders so your roles were reversed. He straddled you with a smile taking a small knife out from his back blade holster. The shock rocked you back into your natural state, the shapeshift of him disappearing. He leaned forward bringing the knife to your neck.

“STOP” you said, using the Voice. 

He halted his motions and you could see the anger on his face, you could tell he felt like you were cheating.

“GET OFF ME, STAND STILL” you said, standing as soon as he was off you. “GIVE ME THE KNIFE” he did just as he was instructed. You could see him trying to fight your orders but he simply couldn’t. Very few had developed the skill to disobey the power of the Voice. You pointed the knife at his throat, the very tip of it pushing against him almost drawing blood. “You breathe because I allow it. Do not make an enemy of me, Feyd Rautha.” your tone was threatening and full of venom. “GET OUT” you said finally, keeping his blade. You watched him leave. You knew he would be back later, most likely set on revenge. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

You sighed as you explored your new home chambers. It was expansive, every room seemed to lead to another. A bedroom. A living room. A bathroom. A library. A viewing room overlooking all of Giedi Prime. A massive stairway that led to an upper floor which led out to the main halls of the palace. You weren’t used to the time difference yet, having only arrived a few hours ago but you could tell from the eerily empty, dark halls it was night time. You went back to your quarters, snooping through the closets and drawers. You found everything you could ever need; towels, blankets, bathroom supplies, dresses, armor, underwear, weapons, etc. The dresses were different from that on Tleilaxu. All black, all slightly resembling armor, yet soft and breathable. You shed your clothing, taking one of what you assumed was Feyd’s larger shirts and underwear to the bathroom. You filled the bathtub. You expected water but instead got some sort of strange, oily black substance. You dipped your hand in cautiously, rubbing it between your fingers. It had the feel of water. You shrugged, not really having a choice before you sank down into it. It felt strange, slightly thicker than water but it was making you feel clean. Just another adjustment you’ll have to make. 

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Feyd watched you from behind the two way mirror. He had grown up in this palace and knew it as well as his own body. He knew every secret it held. He watched you with confusion on his face. He felt embarrassed you bested him. You cheated, you used the Voice which he could not combat against. Yet he felt a strange sense of admiration. You exploited your opponents weakness. Clever. He could tell just from the reflexes you had during the fight that you were Sardaukar. What really amazed him was the shapeshifting. He had never seen a Face Dancer in person, only read of their histories. It was the greatest skill developed, rivaling the Voice of the Bene Gesserit. The fact that you had shapeshifting, the Voice, and advanced training - they may have picked him the perfect wife after all. You were far from the scared teenager he had met. When you rejected his demonstration of love, giving you a beating heart, a bitter seed towards you was planted. Yet your actions today made his insides stir with a wave of emotions he couldn’t quite place a description to. Admiration? That was the closest he could get. 

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state he was tempted to barge in and continue your fight, using the element of surprise against you. He almost made the move to, until he saw you start to wash over your curves. Sitting up on your knees in the bath to scrub over your body, he was hypnotized as the black water slipped down you. His throat tightened. You were a woman now, shapely and perfect compared to the twiggy women of Giedi Prime. His mind ran away with images of his hands gliding over you, everywhere. Your plush thighs, and soft tummy called out to him. He got closer to the mirror, you looked up for a moment meeting his gaze through the mirror, his breath hitched. You stood up, scrubbing the lower half of your body. His jaw dropped, you were the most beautiful creature he ever beheld. He begged for you to hold that knife to his neck again, just to have you close to him. He could feel the strain his cock made against his armor but tried his best to ignore it. As you rinsed the rest of the black from your skin he kept his eyes on your wandering hands, silently praying they would make their way between your legs. You stepped out of the bath, wrapping a towel around yourself before drying your hair with another. When he saw you slide one of his undershirts on he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning; his hips bucking forwards slightly out of pure want. 

He had to have you, he would do everything in his power to make you want him too.

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Naboo's Note:

Hello all! Haven't written for our favorite evil bald boy in a hot minute so I thought I'd deliver. I think I'm going to make this a mini series? I gotta come up with more of a plot because this was all just word vomit, gotta find a direction for it. I'm probably going to be writing more as the job search continues. I broke up with my boyfriend today so I will be distracting myself with the love of fictional men. I hope you are all doing well and thriving. Talk soon XOXOXOXOX!!!!!!

[nucleos]

Lucanis post locking in the romance quest/date idea

I really liked lucanis as a romantic character who isn't particularly good at romantic gestures but is way better when he just follows his instincts anyway sooo heres my idea for a post locking in the romance quest for Lucanis before his final act quest that would improve the romance a lot, bioware steal this idea for a dlc or update you have my permission.

----

Lucanis finds Rook in the kitchen as they come in, strides up to them very proud talking about a date. He's planned a date! Well, Bellara planned a date, he apprehensively admits, but he's excited and he's sure it'll be perfect and he'll meet Rook at the restaurant in Treviso whenever they are ready. He's got that cool confidence you see him with all the time.

When you get to the date, the camera pans you into the scene from above, and you are in the most gaudy romantic restaurant imaginable, I'm talking candles all around the area, rose petals on the floor and bouquets littering the room, it's A LOT. Rook and Lucanis are sat across from each other but between them is a massive food center piece that completely blocks them from seeing each other. Next to the table is a loud obnoxious music troupe serenading the couple before them much to both their dismay. Rook is befuddled trying to make small talk but can't see or hear past the things around them, whilst Lucanis is rubbing his brow frustrated and embarrassed. Amidst the madness, their entrees arrive and they look awful, they question what it is for a second, before Lucanis lets out a long sad sigh, Rook asks if he's okay and he waves his hand before looking down, making a comment to himself about how he really just wanted this date to be special. Rook hears this even though they aren't meant to, and tries to reassure him but alternatively decided to take initiative and suggest they ditch, making up an excuse, and exiting this wild scene and go for a walk around Treviso. He quickly agrees and they run out of the resteraunt ducking away from the loudness. The energy outside the restaurant is immediately less tense if still a bit awkward at first. They just small talk, laughing about it being Bellara's idea, talking about Lucanis's previous underwhelming attempts at romance he's had with others. He brings up the story about giving a knife to a person he tried to romance prior and being rejected, not really trusting his sense of romance. Rook reassures him and they both begin to ease. They go through the market, commenting on the things around them, Lucanis talking about his childhood in Treviso, Rook commenting similarly about her upbringing (faction/race character dialogue). They get to the flower stand and Lucanis picks one out after asking what Rook's favorite is. As they continue to get more invested in conversation, talking about his previous attempts at romancing Rook, mentioning his locking in scene being told it was underwhelming by the other teammates, what it's like dealing with Spite, maybe Spite throwing some insults at Lucanis for how terribly the date went at the beginning, commenting on what Rook smells like or something similar. As they begin to get past the market, the conversation begins to almost draw to an end, mentioning how late it is, with Rook looking up, saying how they think the skyline in Treviso is so beautiful. Lucanis clearly thinks to himself for a moment and then says he knows all the best viewing spots if they want to see? offering his hand and Rook agrees. He leads them to the spot, up spiral staircases across flat roofs, small moments of tripping and giggling, mentioning Rooks surprising lack of dexterity, until they end up in a secluded rooftop balcony area, with little flowers hang down from the tiles above it, dimly lit against the glittering Treviso skyline. Rook is taken aback, amazed by what they see before them, Lucanis starts pointing out some of the things he mentioned earlier in the market. This moment lingers until they realize they haven't stopped holding hands, a little stuttering, an awkward shuffle between the two until the moment silence is broken by a violin and guitar player playing on the street below. Lucanis asks if Rook would like to dance, they accept. It's a bit clumsy at first, little chuckles and misstep but they steady into it, a steady swaying (big ol obvious metaphor for the date). Lucanis mentions learning to dance for seduction and assassin reasons, Rook asking if that's what he'd been doing all evening (sarcastic mask dialogue). Moment is rosie, warm, and Lucanis asks if he could be honest for a moment.

He begins to talk about how since he was young he wasn't the charmer like his cousin, he was only ever sure of the dagger in his hand, the hand of someone else feeling too delicate, and it being proven to him time and time again as something he could break, that feeling intensifying even more so since acquiring Spite, with these moments being too fragile and too beautiful for him to be allowed to hold. So, afraid to break them, he denied them, drowned them, thought that after the ossuary he would remain sunk under the ocean, that he would go down with these burdens, and let himself be enveloped by the water. But in these moments in front of Rook, someone who actively is striving to make the world around them better, faces the world every day, unafraid to find the good in it whilst against all the bad, he wonders... what it would feel like. Wonders what? Rook asks. To just... give in, he replies in whispers. He is inches away from their face at this point in time, his forehead against theirs. Rook makes a close whispered remark, like an I'm here. You're safe. I've got you, type line (I'm not a writer). He moves forward, leans into a soft but long kiss between them. The warmth of the moment swelling as the music plays around them. He pulls away slowly, his eyes meeting theirs, hazy and full of warmth. Rook smiles at him coyly, ''and how does it feel?", they ask. Lucanis releases a deep breath smiling back at Rook.

"Like coming up for air".

The camera floats up towards the skyline as the couple continues to dance and the scene fades to black.

---

yeah. im not a writer idk how to fancy this up at all, or make it less cheesy but thats my idea

[blorger]

“So?” Ron says, after five long minutes of Draco flipping through and studying each page. “Right,” Draco replies, handing the documents back to Ron and taking a deep, steeling breath. “You need to promise not to punch me.” “What?” “It’s just—” Draco swallows and tries again. “I’m going to sound like I’m making a rude comment. I know that I’ve a long history of this kind of thing, so I wanted to clarify ahead of time. I’m not trying to insult you.” “Okay,” Ron says, and Harry can’t decide who looks more uncomfortable. “This Lavender character—” and Harry misses the next few words, because it finally clicks. Ron is here to discuss his divorce, which Harry thinks is almost as unlikely as sabotaging his assignment. “You went to school with her for seven years!” Ron is saying. “Yes, yes. I was a dick.” Draco waves one hand in the air, looking a bit like the queen. “Ground well-trodden, Weasel. I’m a prick. I only cared about myself. Everyone else was beneath my notice.” Ron’s mouth is hanging open. It’s all Harry can do not to laugh. “So, this Lavender—” “Do you seriously not remember her—” Malfoy continues as if Ron hasn’t spoken. “From what I can gather from these documents, Ms Brown is a bit of a—” Draco pauses. “A what?” “You promise not to hit me?” Draco asks. “Just spit it out Malfoy!” “She’s a bit of a raging bitch.” “Wha—” “In my professional opinion.” “Of course,” Ron says, stunned.

from The Truth About Love by waterwings

[angrykittybarbarian]

Things that bother me about Dragon Age: The Veilguard part 3 (final thoughts)

I have finally finished the playthrough. I endured because I wanted to give this game a fair chance. I wanted to see it from start to finish in the hopes it would deliver something, anything capable of redeeming it. But it just didn't. Or more precisely, not in a way sufficient to make its flaws easy to overlook. These are my closing impressions on the game. I have already done two posts about this in which I documented my observations and comments as I progressed. I will link the posts here: Part 1, Part 2.

Let's finish this ride for now.

!Spoilers below the cut!

The music

I don't know what the direction of the music was meant to take. When it was announced Hans Zimmer would compose the OST I had high hopes. Hans Zimmer is a houshold name in Hollywood and skilled at what he does. I listened to a number of movie OSTs of his making and they were all excellent. So what happened here?

The music sounds generic most of the time without a clear theme or a unique piece that got me searching for it on youtube.

The main theme has sort of a recognizable composition but isn't anything outstanding. Emmrich's theme sounds like a halloween piece written for Wednesdsy Adams and the rest of the OST seems to mimic Trevor Morris' work for DA:I, namely the Lost Temple and In Hushed Whispers themes, but without the emotional impact the original pieces created.

It's as someone has already pointed out and I agree: Bioware has bought the name Hans Zimmer but not his quality. It sounds like he didn't even seriously create something but half heartedly whipped something out of his sleeve and called it a day.

The facial animations

The main problem with these is they often don't fit the emotions the VAs are communicating.

The VAs actually did a fantastic job. The scene that touched me the most was the one Rook confronts Solas in after they escape the regret prison in the fade. That was the first time Rook felt involved, raw and real.

But what broke the atmosphere in an otherwise flawless scene was how unmoving their facial expression was. There was the VA shouting their lung out and the animation couldn't even give half a fuck about it.

I don't even see an excuse for this lack of facial animation. It was possible to do since DA:O, hell, even since the first Mass Effect back in '07. Why is it not possible in the year of our Lord 2024, when technology is presumably better?

The handholding of the player

The plot is tightly paced. This is not necessarily a bad thing as I didn't really like the Open World approach of DA:I since it stretched the main plot too thinly and the maps created weren't filled with interesting side content but boring and pointless fetch quests.

But Veilguard went into the opposide extreme as it leaves only little room for the player when and how to do things. The quests are activated and must be completed in a specific order. They have also only one outcome without room to make different decisions.

Rook can never be truly ruthless. They can never disagree and butt heads with their companions.

And I hate how on the side of the screen the game exactly tells you what you have done and how it affects your companions' behaviour. It doesn't bake it into the interaction organically. Instead it has yet again, explained to me what I did and why it has this very specific effect without any of the characters discussing it. But the beauty of consequential decisions lies in the very unpredictability of its outcome. That's what creates the emotional impact. It doesn't work if I am being warned and explained to like a small child.

It's this lack of trust the game puts into the intelligence of its players that is so experience breaking, insulting even. It doesn't trust its players to figure stuff out themselves. It assumes we are too stupid to get any of the things it tries to tell us.

The ting is though, dear Bioware writers, if you think you have to overexplain your story because you think your audience won't get it then that's a telltale sign of the story being actually badly written.

Another area where this becomes appearant are the "puzzles". I used the quotation marks because there isn't really anything to solve. The solutions are obvious and at times your companions go out of their way to tell you.

The romances

Romances have always been a nice bonus on top of the otherweise amazing game content. They added some enjoyable extra fluff purely for enjoyment and some cases even deepened the main storyline.

In Veilguard they don't do that. In almost all of them the flirting is so meaningless that your cutscene with them just proceeds as if nothing happened.

There is no shift or change to their tone towards Rook. You don't build up the relationship with them. There is no last goodbye kiss before the last mission or passionate affirmations of love and trust. It just leaves you cold.

The only romance that seems to have that old depth is Emmrich's. The rest however, they don't add anything significant. There virtually is no difference to the game without the romances.

Companion relationships

Let's begin here with the simple fact that all deeper interactions Rook has with the companions are strictly scripted which ties back into the handholding part of this criticism. Rook cannot initiate a conversation and ask them some general questions about their histories and opinions on certain matters.

Rook only gets to interact with them when they happen to want something from them. Otherwise they cannot be bothered to acknowledge Rook with more than a one sided oneliner.

And then there are the relationships between the companions themselves. They either get along swimmingly or the game feels the need to stage some immature conflict between them without any deeper purpose.

Like Harding not understanding why Emmrich brings so many books on the road despite it literally not being any of her damn business bevause it doesn't personally affect her in any way.

Or Taash not understanding his profession as a Mournwatcher as they call him names so Rook has to point out Taash in turn likes dragons which is an interest he doesn't share only to culminate the discussion with a "We need to respect our differences" sort of statement.

These are not conflicts, these are squabbles of children and like children Roik talks to them which is brought ad absurdum with Emmrich because he is literally old enough to be Rook's father.

Why bother at all with writing conflict if it is only to be something as inconsequential as this?

Varric's death

This one is a .... choice.

I won't go into why the decision to let him die or not is good or bad because I feel like this is highly subjective.

However the impact of the reveal of this fact is only partly executed well.

Why?

Because it only hits hard when the player has known and cared about Varric at least since DA:I if not DA 2. The execution of this plotpoint thus relies too heavily on nostalgia instead of building the tension up within its own setting.

When thinking about Bioware also wanting to be newcomer friendly with this game I am left to wonder then why they didn't introduce Varric properly and didn't give the players time to build up the relationship? Why would a new player care about Varric? They don't know him.

Bioware cannot in good conscience claim they designed the game to be new player friendly while simultaniously heavily relying on knowledge from previous games, dlcs, comics, novels and other spin-off media. They cannot claim this and have anything but DATV do the heavy lifting when it comes to executing their plot.

The final mission

For my final point I also want to lose some positive feedback about this game.

The ending was actually well written.

In relation to Solas it comes full circle. You can actually feel what's at stake and the decisions Rook makes actually matter.

The final questline roughly follows a Mass Effect 2 approach where it is classified as nothing short of a suicide mission.

Companion quests essentially function as loyalty missions and Rook gets to assign various posts in battle. Just like in Mass Effect 2 assigning a companion a post completely outside of their expertise may get them killed.

The dialogue is actually written well at this point in the game. There isn't really much to complain about.

But even this part is not entirely without faults.

For one I don't like the non negotiable sacrifice that has either to be made by Harding or Davrin. Rook doesn't even get a chance to save any of them. But again these non negotiable companion deaths where you only make the choice who's it's going to be isn't anything new (i.e. Hawke and whatever Warden you happen to get, Kaidan/Ashley in ME 1). So maybe a bit if a bummer but nothing experience breaking.

A stronger point however is that Rook will always keep the Veil intact in the end.

I suppose this outcome already is part of the game title itself but was it necessary to take it so literally?

With everything the elves have lost and the discrimination they faced it should absolutely have been an option to agree with Solas and tear the Veil down.

But since we don't talk about racism and slavery I guess Rook doesn't reflect on these points either. So I guess keeping the Veil intact is in line with the game's general sanitization of the world.

So in conclusion?

The game is far from great, not gonna lie. It feels like the devs actually wanted a new IP but were too afraid of the risks that come with such an endeavor and thought gutting an existing franchise that already did the heavy lifting of building a fanbase and using it as a package would save their ideas from flopping. Surely no one will notice it is actually something else if we market it as Dragon Age, right?

But we are not that stupid. This behaviour is insulting to put it plain and simple and I am heartbroken, angry and said that this was done to Dragon Age. I wanted to love this game. I was optimistic before the release. Everything looked fine, nothing in particular to worry about.

But I cannot continue to defend this without breaking my basic brain function.

The most frustrating part is that with the ending the devs showed they can write a story and meaningful dialogues. It left me wondering why it couldn't be done like this for the rest of the game and living with the reality that I will never get what this game could have been.

All in all this is not a good Dragon Age game. It is a massive disappointment and does not live up to the promises made by the devs.

I am sorry for everyone who preordered.

I am sorry for everyone who paid the full release price.

Nominating it for Game of the Year is not justified no mattee how you look at it.

If you are genuinely enjoying the game, I hope you continue to do so and all power to you.

For the rest: let's stop excusing Bioware's disrespect towards the fans and enabling them by paying them too much money for it.

Don't buy at release. Don't buy spin off media. Wait for sales. These people only understand the problem when you give them a good run for their money.

[dissapointu]

“Steel and Softness”

You’re not sure how it came to this.

Sevika sits next to you at the corner table in the Last Drop, her usual spot where the dim lighting frames her strong profile. Her metallic arm rests on the table, the whirring of its mechanisms barely audible over the hum of the bar. You’re fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve, trying to avoid her gaze, though you can feel her sharp eyes watching you.

It all started when some loudmouth at the bar decided to take out his frustration on you. You’d been carrying drinks for customers—careful, quiet, and avoiding eye contact as usual—when he barked something rude at you for accidentally brushing past him.

You apologized, stammering out the words, but he wasn’t satisfied. The insults came fast, and you couldn’t muster anything other than a soft, “I’m sorry.”

That’s when Sevika stepped in.

“Hey.” Her voice cut through the noise like a blade, silencing not just the man but everyone within earshot. When she stood up, the bar fell into a tense hush. “You got a problem?” she asked, her tone calm but laced with warning.

The guy tried to play it off, muttering something about you needing to watch where you were going, but Sevika wasn’t having it. She crossed the room in a few strides, towering over him with an aura that screamed danger.

“You don’t talk to them like that,” she said, her voice low and cold. “Understand?”

The man nodded quickly, muttering something incoherent before practically running out of the bar.

Now, back at the table, you can’t stop replaying the scene in your head. Your hands are trembling slightly, not from fear of Sevika but from the weight of her attention.

“You’ve got to stop letting people treat you like that,” she says, breaking the silence.

Her tone isn’t unkind, but it’s firm. You glance at her, only to find her leaning back in her chair, one eyebrow raised as she waits for your response.

“I—I didn’t want to make a scene,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sevika snorts, shaking her head. “They made the scene, not you.” She leans forward, resting her forearms on the table, and you can’t help but notice the contrast between her scarred hands and the softness in her expression. “Look, I get it. You’re not like me. You don’t have to be. But you can’t just let people walk all over you.”

You lower your gaze, feeling the weight of her words. “I don’t know how to… stand up for myself,” you admit quietly.

Her hand reaches out, the flesh-and-blood one, and she gently taps your chin, tilting your face up to meet her eyes. “You’ve got a voice. Use it,” she says, her tone softer now. “Even if it’s just a whisper, it’s better than nothing.”

You blink at her, unsure what to say. Sevika isn’t someone you’d ever expect to be this patient, but here she is, taking the time to teach you something you’ve always struggled with.

“If anyone gives you trouble,” she continues, her lips quirking into a smirk, “you let me know. I’ll handle it. But I want you to try, alright? Even if it’s just once.”

You nod hesitantly, and she leans back with a satisfied expression.

“Good,” she says, crossing her arms. “Now, let’s get you a drink. You look like you need one after all that.”

Despite your lingering nerves, you feel a warmth spreading through you. Sevika’s words replay in your mind, and for the first time, you think maybe—just maybe—you can learn to stand a little taller. And with her by your side, you feel just a little braver.

[starly-amazing]

In Baths and Salts: Stinkfrin Gets Cleansed

Rating: Teen

Summary: Siffrin is a stinky fella after the loops. Isabeau and Mirabelle take it upon themselves to give them a nice relaxing bath and some much-needed pampering. Emotions and minimal crying are to be expected. Happy 1st Anniversary ISAT!

Tags: Bathing/Washing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Queerplatonic Relationships, Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst

archiveofourown org/works/60726061

--- --- ---

"Siffrin, you smell terrible." Odile sighs as soon as the party makes it back inside the clock tower. The festivities outside were set to go on well into the night, but none of the Saviors had any desire to mingle—or be showered in praise, food, gifts, or marriage proposals.

Isabeau gasps as if personally insulted. "M’dame!? That’s so blunt!" He grips Siffrin tighter as he helps them to the dining table.

They flop over in their chair and let out a harsh wheeze. They don't even try to argue.

She lowers her glasses and raises an eyebrow. "So we’re in agreement, then?" Her arms fold over her chest.

"Well... " He rubs his shoulder. He sniffs his shirt where Siffrin had been leaning and makes a face.

“I’m in an an-greement!” Bonnie yells and fans the air in front of their face. “Belle too!”

“What!?” Mirabelle sputters in the middle of wiping a spot of Siffrin’s blood off her dress. “Bonnie, why are you bringing me into this?”

"Bath sounds nice," Siffrin mumbles into their cloak. The clock tower surprisingly had a full washroom with plumbing. They couldn't imagine why, but they're not about to complain. The bathtub, complete with a crafted heating element, had tempted them so many times during the loops, but they could never justify using it.

But now... 

They're still not sure they can justify it but maybe they should just say ‘blind it all’ and do it anyway.

“Yes, see? Siffrin didn’t need any convincing!”

Though, it seems like their family isn’t going to give them much choice either way.

Odile smirks and tilts her head at Mirabelle.

“Don’t say it!”

“Hey, hey, don’t bully poor Sif! What they need right now is some nice gentle reassurance!”

“And a bath!” Bonnie adds. They start putting away the plates of food that grateful villagers and Housemaidens managed to laden them all with.

“Yep,” Siffrin mumbles, too tired to be phased.

"I'll get it ready!" Isabeau chirps and heads to the washroom.

Odile doesn't even try to hide The Smirk.

Siffrin puts his head down and closes his eye. He breathes deeply a few times and lets the sounds of his family wash over him. Odile is scribbling more in her notebook. Bonnie is messing with the food and gifts. Mirabelle is rummaging through her bags.

"How are you feeling now, Siffrin?" Mirabelle asks after a few moments.

"Gross." They rub at a bloodstain on their cloak.

"Good thing that's going to be remedied soon," Odile hums. She scribbles something down in her notebook. “Teasing aside, is there anything you need—or want us to do for you now? It doesn’t have to be big if you’re not yet comfortable asking, just something that might help you feel more at ease.”

Siffrin eyes the bottle of gifted wine by the sink.

Odile follows their gaze and shakes her head. “Anything but that. We’re not going to let you pick up any new self-destructive habits.”

Siffrin grunts. “Water then, please.”

“I got it!” Bonnie races to the sink and fills a glass in record time. They rush back to Siffrin and nearly spill it onto them.

“A good snack duty-er also includes hydreeshon!”

“Hydration, Boniface.”

“That’s what I said!”

Siffrin cracks a small smile and takes a sip. The cool water is a shock to his parched throat but after the initial tingle fades he downs the rest in a few gulps.

“Wow! Super fast!” Bonnie grabs the cup and runs back to the sink. “Want more?”

Isabeau calls out from the bathroom. “Okay, I think it’s about ready!”

“I’m fine, thank you Bonbon!” They move to get up but their body protests. They flop back down and lay their face on the table again. “Urgh.”

“Whoa, Frin. Do you need help getting to the bathroom?”

“No, no I’m fine I—” They try to push themself up but fail. “Okay maybe yes please.”

It takes both Bonnie’s and Mirabelle’s help to get Siffrin to their feet but once they’re standing they’re able to blink some of the exhaustion back. Still, the two each take one of his arms and help him maneuver to the bathroom. Odile follows close behind, hands at the ready in case his legs decide to give out on him.

The bathroom isn't anything spectacular. Just plain stone floors and walls with some generic concentric circles etched in to break up the monotony. It has nothing in the way of storage; the party all had to drag in some barrels to hold their supplies. It’s a miracle it even had a toilet and bathtub with working plumbing.

At least they can expect hot water. Despite the fever that still makes them sweat, they want nothing more than to get their sore, cosmically stretched, and clone-attacked muscles soaked to the bone.

Loop.

They touch their neck and hope it hasn’t bruised visibly yet.

They'll be back. They have to come back. They just need rest, too.

"Everything okay, Siffrin?” Isabeau hums nervously. “I mean, well, relatively speaking"

"Yeah," they nod and take a step forward. "Just... crowded."

"Come on Boniface." Odile picks them up by the armpits with little effort. "There are some things you are not meant to see here."

Peak physical condition is right.

"Aww come on, let me help, I won't look!" They wave their arms with one hand still gripping Siffrin's. The tug hurts a bit but it's too cute to pull away.

"You can help by fixing up all the food everyone gave us and some more things our little problem child hasn't eaten in a long time."

"Oh! Oh, you're right!" Bonnie wiggles their legs until Odile puts them down. They run out of the bathroom, almost tripping on themself. She chuckles at them, her hand on her hip.

"I suppose I'll go help. You two probably can handle it on your own and my knees will not allow me to do any of this."

Mirabelle and Isabeau both nod as Odile turns away.

"Wait, handle what?" Isabeau tilts his head.

"Giving said problem child a bath,” she says over her shoulder.

"Oh!" He gasps.

‘ Oh’ is right! Siffrin feels their arm hair stand on end.

“Uhm, I think I can handle it on my own.”

But do I want to?

She turns to meet his gaze. "Siffrin. You needed all three of us to help you walk twenty feet to the bathroom. We wouldn't want you falling asleep and drowning. Unless that's something you want to risk, I believe that supervision is warranted."

“Ah, right. That’s a... that’s a good point!” Siffrin stammers and both Isabeau and Mirabelle nod rapidly.

"Good, now have fun." With that, she shuts the door and leaves the three of them alone.

"Well, uhm. So," Isabeau begins. His face is already a shade darker. "So how do you want to do this? I mean we can just, you know, hang out without looking while you clean yourself, and just—then we just make sure you're okay or something!”

"Can I wash your hair, Siffrin?" Mirabelle eyes the rat's nest that’s grown atop their head.

Wash my hair?

They run their hands through the tangled mess until their fingers get stuck in the greasy locks. She’d have her work cut out for her... he’s not sure he can accept the favor so soon.

But, ohh they need it. They need the feeling of Mirabelle's fingers combing through their hair and massaging their scalp. He thinks of how her nails will feel digging deep into their skin. They imagine her reaching through their skull and ripping out every bad thought and memory straight from their mind. It sends a small shiver down their spine. It's all too much for Siffrin to process. They shrink down in their cloak and turn away.

"It's okay if you don't! We'll just be here for moral support!" Mirabelle waves her hands and Isabeau nods.

"I... uh... washing... washing my hair sounds... nice," they manage to force out.

"Ohh!" Mirabelle clasps her hands together and does a little skip in place. Her dress flutters and part of it sticks to the rim of the tub. "Oh, maybe I should change into something else."

"Oh, me too!" Isabeau nods and then turns to leave but stops. "Actually." He removes his sash and outer shirt then gives his undershirt a good tug. "This should be good."

Siffrin takes off his own cloak and reaches for his shirt... 

Oh.

He looks at the lightless fabric of his sleeves—at how some spots stain just a bit darker than the rest. The little gaps in the fabric where light shows through shift slightly with each breath.

Oh no.

He didn't tell Mirabelle about that when she healed them. Nobody has seen.

What do they do? They can't stand the thought of being alone. Not now. Maybe he should have them look the other way the whole time, after all.

But... They promised to be honest now. Though, if they didn't ask, is it really dishonest? He clenches his jaw. It is, he's still hiding something from them.

... They can’t really expect him to be able to open up about everything right away, right?

Still... 

They squeeze their eye shut.

“Sif?”

"Siffrin, what's wrong?"

Breathe. In, and out.

They turn their back to them and grab the base of their shirt.

In, and out.

"Please don't freak out."

Deep breath.

They pull their shirt over their head to reveal the mottling of fresh cuts up and down their arms.

Silence.

Dead silence.

He bites his lip hard enough to hurt. He swears he can almost, almost taste blood.

Each second of nothing wears on Siffrin and they fight the urge to cover back up. The distant sounds of Bonnie rummaging around in the kitchen grate in their ears.

"Let me heal you, Siffrin," Mirabelle breathes.

They nod and slowly hold out one arm behind them. She gently takes their fingers in her hand and places her palm on the back of his. She whispers a few things under her breath and starts moving her hand up their arm. The soreness dissipates in little ripples out from her fingertips.

Isabeau shifts behind them and starts swirling his hand in the bath.

"The water should be good," he murmurs.

Siffrin flexes their arm in front of them as Mira begins on their other one.

Scarred. Of course. Most have faded but the deeper, star-shaped ones remain. They no longer hurt, at least, just a dull ache if they move too much. That could also just be everything else wrong with them.

"I'm sorry, Siffrin," Mirabelle murmurs when she sees them scrutinize one of the larger scars. "I—I couldn’t prevent them from scarring. I just don’t have the Craft energy."

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, they're all probably beyond exhausted from dealing with your tantrum.

Why didn't you even consider that until now? Even Bonnie is probably tired from everything and now they're out preparing you a full-course meal.

Siffrin pulls away and holds their half-healed arm to their chest, out of reach.

"I'm—"

"No, Siffrin, it's okay." Mirabelle reaches for them but they turn further away. “I’m happy to finish healing you, really.”

“You’ve already done so much.”

“And I’m willing to do more.” She takes a step closer. “You’d do the same for me if our positions were switched, right?”

“Of course I would!” He whirls around. They squint as their head spins a bit. “You are all..." he pauses, voice lowering. “So important to me.”

Isabeau pulls up two stools to the tub. “And you’re so so important to us too.” He frowns slightly as Siffrin shrinks into themself more. “We choose to do this Sif. We want you to be safe, healthy, and happy and we’re all willing to push ourselves like this to make sure of it.”

“But..." Their voice trails off.

“Siffrin, I promise I’m not putting myself in any danger doing this. It’s just tiring and nothing a few good night’s sleep won't fix.”

“I guess..."

Mirabelle gives Siffrin a tired smile. She reaches for their face.

A stinging memory flashes through their mind and they flinch. They recoil. Their hand flies part way to their cheek but they freeze.

He blinks, blinks, blinks away the memory. He sees Mirabelle standing there with her hands clasped at her chest. Her body is stiff—as if she's frozen in time—but her rapid breathing betrays that.

"Siffrin, I'm... " She worries her lip and picks at her fingertips. "I'm so sorry. I—I shouldn’t have... I know I was angry at those awful things you said but I still shouldn’t have slapped you."

"Of course you should have!" They dig their nails into their arms, threatening to undo everything Mirabelle just healed. "I said all those... cruel, horrible, untrue things when you were stressing out so much about everything! You had the weight of all of Vaugarde on your shoulders! And then your—” they stop themself. “The papers... Why wouldn't you slap me?"

Her face pulls into a grimace. "I still should have kept trying to figure out what was wrong! You're right, I was so stressed and anxious about everything..." She takes a shuddering breath and squeezes her eyes shut. “And it really did hurt... what you said... But I... I just assumed the worst of you... that you never really cared about me... when I knew that wasn’t true. I should have known it wasn’t that... " Her voice quiets to a whisper. “I shouldn’t have given up on you.”

"But... how were you even supposed to guess what was happening?"

Isabeau chimes in. "Well, we wouldn't have figured out the specifics but it was obvious there was something ."

Their shoulders fall. "And I... still wouldn't have said anything.”

Silence.

Wrong response, stupid, stupid, stupid.

"You should have slapped me too, Isa. How were you so calm?"

Worse response! Stop it!

"Sif, I would never hurt you. I couldn’t.”

Mirabelle’s jaw clenches and her face pulls tight.

Isabeau jumps slightly and holds his hands up. “Ah—sorry Mira, I didn’t mean to imply anything! It’s just... you know, defender training and just... my own..." He brings a hand to his chest. “Er—yeah, I’m not judging you or anything for your reaction! Anyway, Sif!” He lets his hand fall to his side and meets their gaze. They have to fight not to look away.

“We all made mistakes yesterday... and we’re all willing to go to great lengths to help you and each other, even if we’re tired. Even if we’re angry.”

Siffrin can't keep his gaze.

Isabeau hums for a moment and then lights up with a small gasp. "Okay, give me your hand."

He hesitates.

Isabeau holds his hand out, palm up. It glistens a bit in the candlelight—from sweat or bath water, Siffrin isn't sure.

Slowly, carefully, they place their closed hand in Isabeau's. He lifts his other hand slowly enough that it doesn't startle them and then very lightly smacks his fingers against their knuckles.

"Whap! There's your slap."

Despite themself, they couldn't hold back a snort.

"Ohhh, the pain~" they whine in a weak, almost ghost-like manner.

Isabeau releases his grip and Siffrin shivers at the sudden coolness.

"Oh, uh, you should probably get in the bath before it gets cold too, huh?"

"Ah, right, yeah." They gaze at the inviting water. They realize their legs are shaking more. "Can you... look the other way for a minute."

Isabeau spins around and Mirabelle covers her eyes.

Siffrin fumbles with their belt—their grip is weaker and stiffer than before. Was it the scarring? Or just exhaustion? They didn't have the energy to think too hard about it. The bath was calling to them.

He slips out of his pants and kicks them to the corner. They approach the tub and tentatively stick in their toe.

Warm. A bit too warm.

They could use all the warmth they can get.

They step inside and settle in quickly. The water burns at every little cut Mirabelle didn’t manage to heal. He grits his teeth and just waits for it to ease up.

They wish for would like a bubble bath so they could hide under a foot of suds, but the bare-bones bathroom doesn't afford such luxuries. Still, they splash a bit of soap in to create a facsimile of a foam shield and cover up their unmentionables with a washcloth.

"Okay," they breathe.

Mirabelle drops her hands and Isabeau waits another second before turning around. Siffrin holds their arms against their chest. There's not much to hide, but still.

The two of them settle down on small stools next to him.

Silence.

Siffrin pokes at a small bruise on their knee.

"Uhm, Siffrin?"

He glances at Mirabelle and tilts his head.

"Are you ready for me to wash your hair?"

Their eye widens and flashes of the past flick through their mind. Her gentle hands worked through his hair as she brushed it, picking out dirt and pulling out tangles. It was so nice they couldn't bring themself to accept any other time she offered.

But now... 

" Please ."

Mirabelle perks up with a smile and grabs two shampoo bottles from atop a barrel.

"Okay, so we have a lavender scent here. It's good for calming you down and helps with sleep." She holds up the other one. "And here we have pineapple sc—"

"LAVENDER!" Siffrin yelps, causing Mirabelle and Isabeau to jump.

"Okay, okay! Lavender it is!" She puts the other bottle far away from Siffrin. “I didn’t think you had such strong feelings for some foods!” She pours a generous amount of the other onto Siffrin's head until a drop of it splatters on his shoulder. Siffrin clenches his jaw and decides against letting that bit of information out for now.

Mirabelle rubs her hands together and gets to work.

Almost immediately he lets out a sigh as her nails rake across his scalp. His eye rolls back into his head and he sinks deeper into the water.

They're floating, becoming one with the Universe. Their pain fades into dull static as their mind focuses solely on their head.

It's heavenly.

"Uh, Sif," Isabeau's voice is soft.

"Mmm?" they hum.

"Anything I can help with?"

Siffrin cracks his eye open at Isabeau. He's sitting with his head turned to the ceiling and scratching at his chin.

"Oh, uh... " They pause and think. It'd be too cramped to ask him to wash anything else while Mirabelle is still working, but his touch is just so inviting all the same.

They mull it over for a moment. They look at their hand, flex their stiff fingers, and reach out.

"Can you... hold my hand?"

Isabeau gasps. "Of course!" He wipes his hands on his pants and takes Siffrin's between them.

It's nice.

They smile and let out a long sigh. He closes his eye and feels the weightlessness of his body. The way Isabeau’s hand molds around his. The way Mirabelle oh so gently tugs at the many tangles in their hair.

How it feels like... 

His mind wanders.

A tear floats gently in front of him. He’s in the house again.

Ugh. He squeezes his eye shut. Now’s not the time for those thoughts.

It’s completely different, anyway. Tears were always so cold and touching them felt more like missing a stair step and falling forever... and the dreams... the dreams were always so weird.

But now! Now he’s warm and feels like he’s being lifted up, up! And no dreaming! Just perfectly controllable awake thoughts.

... 

He’s in the house again.

Their family is there. Talking about something he can’t quite process. The images and sounds are warped and garbled. They can barely make out Bonnie making snacks in the corner.

Their family goes quiet. Everyone looks over at Bonnie.

They aren’t cooking.

Nope! Not that memory!

They shift in the tub and try to force a different thought, hoping nobody notices their discomfort.

Mirabelle continues scrubbing. Isabeau gives their hand another squeeze.

They are in a hallway now. Things look even more warped and broken; the pillars are sinking through the floor, a haze of static obscures almost everything, and the walls seem to be melting. He can still make out his family standing a few paces ahead, surrounding... him?

They’re smiling at him, and then their expressions fall. “He” vanishes.

No, not that one either.

He’s in front of Isabeau by the tree. They reach out and grab his shirt--

No no no!

They pull into themself and furiously wipe their mouth.

“Sif? What’s wrong?” Isabeau puts his other hand on him. Mirabelle stops and places her hands on their shoulders.

“S-sorry, I just..." He doesn’t want to get into it.

Just be vague. Honest, but vague.

“Just thinking about the loops again.”

They both give him little squeezes.

“It’s okay, Siffrin. We’re here.”

“You’re safe,” Isabeau adds, “it’s over, I promise.”

“Yeah,” they swallow a knot in their throat, “yeah it’s over.” He forces himself to relax and give them a reassuring smile. They close their eye again and wait for Mirabelle to continue scrubbing their hair.

But the memories aren’t over--they won’t ever go away, will they?

They’ve forgotten their own family member’s names. They’ve forgotten their home, their language, their past, and whole chunks of their journey before the loops began.

But the loops themselves are so etched into their mind... 

No. No. It’s too early to even think about that. They’ll fade. They won’t keep popping up every time they have a moment of rest. Maybe they’ll even be able to start remembering things from before the loops! It’s just going to be a recovery process.

A long, long recovery process.

It’s fine though! They have their family! They promised they’d be there for him. As long as he can make himself talk about his feelings sometimes, it’ll all work out fine!

They smile and sigh.

Just happy thoughts for now. Focus on Isabeau’s and Mirabelle’s hands. Think about her brushing your hair or Isabeau holding your hands on the rooftop. Think about Odile ruffling your hair or Bonnie’s hug.

His mind starts to drift again.

In the echo of a memory, the Head Housemaiden is crying. Their family calls out to them from the distance. They race to him and he reaches out. He can barely make out anything through the static but their calling his name is unmistakable.

The scene cracks, and breaks, and he’s back in Dormont. Mirabelle screams. Bonnie cries. Odile grips his cloak. And Isabeau... 

Siffrin’s face pulls into a grimace and he shifts in the tub.

They were loved.

They were loved, they were so loved, and yet, they ruined it.

Isabeau locks their fingers together. “We’re here, Sif.”

Mirabelle holds his head in her hands. “Siffrin, you can talk to us about what you’re thinking about if you want.” Her voice is so soft, so gentle. “But... if you can’t right now you can tell us that too... We can just talk about something light instead... to keep your mind off things.”

‘ So you should just accept it! Accept that you'll always be alone!’

They dig their heels into the bottom of the tub.

“I just—” he chokes.

They say they forgive you, but... 

“Sif.” Isabeau pulls their hand closer.

‘ I know what kind of person you are, now. A Coward, Isa. Never able to say what you mean, never able to do what you want.’

You can’t take it back. Can’t undo it all.

“I—” His breathing quickens. Their chest starts to burn. He tries to speak again but only choked sounds come out.

‘ Deep down, you know you can't escape yourself.’

They won’t forget what you said.

A tear runs down their face. It joins the many drops of water clinging to their neck.

‘ Just leave me behind! Just like you left Ka Bue behind!!! Just like your mom lef̵͉͘ţ̷̟̪̀̒͗́͠ ̵̠̩͕̘̫̈͗̌̊y̷̧̡̼͕̮͆̔̆̀̔o̷̝̓̑̍̚͘ŭ̴̘͇̮̄͜ ̷̻̮͔̖̬̇͌̐̒b̵͔͇̤̽̾̽̕͘͠e̶̘̮̦̬͍̿̒ḣ̶̛̝̤̑̈̎̎i̷̪̮͝ň̷͖̣̱̽d̸͙̿̈́́̊̏̿̚!̶͔̻͇̥͎̒͊̅͘’

They’ll live with your words wearing on them forever.

“Siffrin, it’s okay, you don’t have to say it right away.”

They whine and begin to pull away. Their chest is heaving. The room is starting to spin. Stop it. Stop it. Stay in the moment.

“Sif. Breathe with me,” Isabeau’s demand is gentle yet it’s enough to pull their attention to him.

They see him through the tears. He has his hand on his chest. He breathes deeply.

Their head hurts and their hands are shaking and their heart is beating like it's about to explode, so they probably should.

In, and out.

Siffrin tries to copy. He only manages a few shallow gasps at first.

Isabeau doesn’t stop though. He keeps breathing. In and out. He squeezes Siffrin’s hand with each breath.

In. Siffrin closes his eye and inhales. It’s smoother now. He can hear Mirabelle joining in.

Out. He squeezes Isabeau’s hand back.

In. The burning starts to fade.

Out. They can focus on their surroundings more. On the tug of Mirabelle’s fingers in their hair. On the gentle tremble of Isabeau’s hand. On the sounds of their unified breathing.

The echo of their cruel words gets fainter each time, but still crowd the margins of their consciousness.

One more breath.

They slowly open their eye. Isabeau is smiling gently at him.

“Mmmsorry,” Siffrin mumbles.

“It’s okay,” Isabeau assures and Mirabelle hums in agreement.

“I just—” Not again. The tension begins to creep back.

Just say it. It’s no worse than what you’ve already talked about.

"Why'd it... why’d it have to be this time?" they mumble.

"What do you mean?" Isabeau tilts his head.

Another deep breath. "Why'd this loop have to be the one we broke out of? Why this, and not one where I did everything right and you all..." He kicks at the side of the tub, “loved me?"

Isabeau winces. "We do love you now, Sif." They can feel the pain in his voice.

"But I hurt you all so much!”

“Not enough to stop us from loving you.” He squeezes their hand. “Not even close.”

Siffrin’s throat tightens. He paws at the water and watches the bubbles swirl around.

Mirabelle pulls at their hair. "Siffrin, everyone has bad days. People say cruel things they don't really mean to their friends."

Isabeau nods. "Yeah, you just happened to have a really, really long string of really, really bad days. So you only snapping at us now is pretty... urhm... impressive."

Siffrin pops a bubble.

"We really mean it when we say we forgive you, Siffrin." She gives their hair another gentle tug. "And we'll keep reminding you every time we need to."

"But... " They sink against the side. "You said you'll have time to be mad later. So how are you forgiving me so soon?"

Siffrin could sense Mirabelle frowning. "I can forgive you even if I'm still mad! O-or hurt! Just like I can be mad at you and still love you!"

Isabeau nods. "People are just full of conflicting emotions, and it's pretty normal to feel ones that are at odds." He rubs a thumb over Siffrin's scarred knuckles.

"I guess." They pick at a small scab on their forearm until Isabeau puts his other hand over it.

He leans closer. "The important thing is that you're doing what you can to fix it and keep it from happening again."

"What if it does happen again?" They mumble and sink a little further.

"You try harder next time.” He slides his hand up their arm. “And keep trying."

Siffrin mumbles under their breath. "How many times can I mess up before you all hate me?"

Isabeau squeezes their hand. "There's nothing you will do that'll make us hate you. Maybe get mad, or upset—"

"Or worried!" Mira added, picking at her nails.

"Or worried. But we could never hate you. Never. I promise!"

"Siffrin, you know you're such a genuinely good friend, right? We trust that you'll never try to hurt us on purpose. And... we... " She twists a lock of Siffrin's hair around her finger. "You have to trust us to all work things out together if you make a mistake!"

"Yeah!" Isabeau smiles. "You have to trust us too, Sif."

"I do!" Siffrin bolts upright, splashing water over the two of them. "Sorry!"

"Sif! It's okay, it's just water."

Siffrin whines.

Mirabelle pulls his hair and makes them lean back against the tub. They groan softly and move to cover their mouth, but they stop halfway. No point.

"Hehe! Now that we know you like touch, we're gonna make you relax and be nice to yourself! Oh, I mean if that's okay with you! I mean if that's too much it's fine, but we want you to be happy!"

"You make cute noises, Sif," Isabeau blurts out.

"What?"

"What!? Sorry, that just came out!" He covers his mouth. "Mira is right! We're gonna make you care for yourself and be nice and stuff! But only in ways you're comfortable with of course!" His grip tightens and he scratches the back of his head.

The way his cheeks darken and eyes dart around the room is... 

Cute.

"I'm happy to uh... " They sink until their mouth is just above the water. Their knees come up and they pull them closer. "Make more cute noises later, maybe. If it means you'll uh... play with my hair... too."

Isabeau's body jolts and he nearly crushes Siffrin's hand. Mirabelle bites her lip to (poorly) hold back a long 'awwwww'.

"Hahhaha! Yeah, that sounds great! I'll give you a full body massage and everything, I mean if that's what you're okay with obviously I know I've said it before but I just want to make sure you know I'm not gonna do anything too soon or make you uncomfortable I know you said you'll think about it and stuff so it can be a totally platonic massage or none at all but I just want you to know I'm here to make you feel better in whatever way I can!" When he stops he has to catch his breath.

Siffrin holds back a laugh. Isabeau's grip is still rock solid and their hand is beginning to hurt. "Isa," He tries to flex his fingers.

"Oh, oh Sif I'm sorry!" he cries, releasing his grip. Siffrin turns their hand around and makes a fist a few times. The pain fades quickly and they re-link their hand with his.

Isabeau coughs out a laugh. "S-see!? See this is what I mean where you can feel many emotions. Your hand can hurt from my sweaty rock grip but you still love me!" His eyes widen. "R-right?"

Siffrin bites back a snort. Isabeau tugs at his hair. "No, of course not," they say, sticking their tongue out. "Hand hurty is my limit!"

"Nooooooooooooo!" Isabeau cries out and leans back to press the back of his hand to his forehead. "Not the—ACK" The small stool slips out from under him and he goes crashing to the floor, dragging Siffrin out with him. They land hard on top of him and they both wheeze. Soap-suds splatter across Isabeau's face.

Mirabelle jumps up, nearly toppling over as well but only manages to grab the towel bar at the last second.

"Owwie," Siffrin grunts.

"Sif holy crab! I didn't mean to do that I'm so sorry!" Isabeau sounds on the verge of tears. Immediately his hands are on their shoulders and Mira is behind them a second later. It’s cold, it hurts, and they might have soap in their eye but... Isabeau’s warm. They almost don’t want to get up, but before they can even finish the thought Isabeau and Mirabelle are both helping him to his feet. They stumble a bit; their legs are still weak from the shock, but they manage to get their footing. Mira pulls her hands back but Isabeau keeps his grip solid as Siffrin steps back into the water.

Ahh, warm again.

“I am so sorry, Sif. I didn’t mean to keep holding on!” he whines. “... Or to fall in the first place.” He finally lets go of Siffrin only to bury his face in his soapy, wet hands. He groans loudly.

"Isa, it's okay!" They wince and put their hand to a reopened wound but don't stop laughing even as Mirabelle frantically works to close it back up.

More or less okay.

As she finishes and wipes her arm on her brow with a long sigh, Siffrin begins to giggle.

"Ribs hurty too," they wheeze through a bout of laughter.

The muffled sound of stomping catches their attention.

"FRIN! ZA! BELLE! ARE YOU OKAY IN THERE!?"

"Are you being too rough with them Isabeau?" They swear they can hear the smirk in Odile's voice. "In front of Mirabelle, too?"

Isabeau makes a choked sound and turns to the door. "N-no! We aren't doing anything like that!" He whines as Siffrin's laughing grows ever louder. "It's fine!"

Oh stars, it hurts, it hurts so much but they can't stop.

Oh no, you're being weird again. Stop it!

They crack a glance at Mira and Isabeau. They're... 

Trying not to laugh, too?

Isabeau snorts into his hand and joins in, Mira soon after.

He feels tears welling in his eye. He can see them in Isabeau's, too.

"HEY, WHAT'S SO FUNNY" Bonnie yells and smacks their hands against the door. "DID FRIN MAKE A DUMB CRABBING PUN AGAIN?"

Quick, think of one!

"Oh, it's—" Siffrin wheezes. "Uhhh... "

"It appears Sif has really fallen for me!" Isabeau says through giggles.

"BAD! YUCK! THAT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY YOU GUYS BETTER NOT START BEING GROSS ALL THE TIME!"

"Boniface, you're going to burn dinner."

"OH CRAB!" There's a sound of rapidly retreating stomps and then silence.

"Hahha—oww." Siffrin grips their sides again.

"Siffrin, be careful." Mirabelle holds out her hands but stops. Her genuine concern is broken by giggles she can't quite bite back.

They wave a hand at her before wiping his eye. "It's fine." They cough. "I actually feel... better, now." His gaze lands on Isabeau, who’s looking away with a crooked smile and a burning blush.

...Huh?

Isabeau’s shoulders still shake from barely contained laughter. His chest is covered in soap suds, and he is digging his fingers into his wrist.

"Oh, um... Siffrin... " Mirabelle picks something up off the floor and hands it to him.

The washcloth.

"OH!"

Siffrin nearly splashes half the water out of the tub slapping it back over their groin. He pulls his knees back to his chest and winces at the strain.

"Ow."

"Be careful, Sif!" Isabeau does a quick double-take before looking at them again.

Siffrin holds their hand out to him and he takes it. They sway them from side to side.

Mirabelle lets out a small whine. "Madame Odile is probably going to be at our throats if we stretch out your recovery more like this!" She wrings her hands together, then places one on top of Isabeau's. "And I can't imagine how Nille will react if we take longer getting Bonnie back home because of... this!"

Siffrin coughs out a few more chuckles and sighs.

Actually... they think about the things Bonnie has said about Nille. About her suplexing a guy for touching her. About crafting a hammer so big it broke the wall she hung it on.

He fails to suppress a shudder at the thought of her giving him a whole new set of wounds. Despite them becoming unimaginably strong during the loops, they still wouldn’t want to cross an angry and protective sibling.

“Getting cold, Sif?”

They’re snapped back to the present. “Oh, yeah, a bit.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The water was starting to lose its delightful heat.

"Do you want us to heat it up more or are you done?"

Siffrin mulls it over for a moment. "No, I probably need to lie down after all that," they chuckle.

Isabeau lets out a long whine. "Sif I'm still so sorry about that!"

"Isa," Siffrin squeezes his hand as hard as they can... which is admittedly not very hard with how exhausted he is. "I promise it's fine. I... really needed that laugh." They pull their other hand away from their knees and place it on top of their friends' hands.

"Also, uhm, Isa, " they look away as their face grows hot. "Can you, um... "

"Yeah, what's up Sif?" He leans closer.

"Can you rinse my hair for me?" He looks at Mirabelle. "Oh, i-it's not that you did a bad job at washing my hair or anything! It felt great!"

"I get it, Siffrin," she chuckles. "You did promise him you'd let him help too."

"Wait, I did?"

"No, but you should have!" Isabeau teases in mock offense.

Siffrin pouts. "Well you get to anyway, so here!" He pushes a cup into Isabeau's hands.

"Gasp! You have bestowed upon me the sacred goblet with which I will complete my holy task." He holds it gingerly in his hands and bows to them.

“Of course, my loyal knight.” Siffrin bows back. “There are not many I trust to handle such an arduous task!”

“Did you really have to say ‘gasp’ out loud, Isabeau?” Mirabelle shakes her head with a sigh and a barely restrained smile.

“I sure did!” he hums with a wide smile as he squeezes the suds from Siffrin’s hair.

They take another washcloth to their arms and start scrubbing, smiling.

"Do you want me to get your back, Siffrin?" Mirabelle asks.

"Please," he sighs.

She hums and begins with their shoulders. She rubs gentle circles down his back and is oh-so careful to avoid any visible wounds. Isabeau holds his palm against Siffrin's brow as he pours water over their head. They almost fall asleep right then and there as they’re cared for with such gentleness.

Having so many hands on them felt so... 

Nice.

Much harder to get distracted with dark thoughts with so much going on.

Yet it was getting to the verge of overstimulating. Especially each time he passes his washcloth over the not-fully-healed wounds speckling his arms.

But it's okay. They've waited so long for this. Nothing's perfect, after all.

They move to their chest, then to their legs. He's able to scrub a bit harder now—only old wounds and a few bruises there. He’s definitely working faster than the others. He almost wants to have them help with that too but he doesn’t quite think he’s ready yet.

"Thank you," they breathe.

"Of course," Mirabelle and Isabeau both hum in response.

Just about done. Siffrin finds the stopper with his toe and pops it out.

Isabeau squeezes the water from their hair and they let out another involuntary sigh in response.

They start to stretch their legs as the water drains, remembering at the last moment to slap the washcloth back over their crotch. They suppose Isabeau wouldn't mind seeing what they have but they couldn't subject Mirabelle to the horrors.

"Do you want me to dry your hair too?" Isabeau asks quietly.

"Don't get greedy, Isabeau!" Mira teases with a gentle shove to his soapy shoulder. She makes a face and rinses her hand off in the nearly-drained water.

"Whaaat! I just want to be helpful to our little rogue!"

Siffrin tries to reach for their hat to cover their blush but, once again, grabs empty air.

"I can dry their hair and you can brush it, how about that? Er—" he turns to Siffrin. "If you’re okay with it!"

Siffrin nods stiffly while biting their lip. They shudder from the exposure and Isabeau rushes to grab towels. He drapes one over their shoulders and gets to work on their hair.

"Oh, we should probably get you a change of clothes." Mirabelle eyes the tattered and bloody pile in the corner. She opens the door to find all three sets of their sleeping clothes neatly folded right outside.

"Aww, thank you, Madame!"

"Are you DONE NOW?" Bonnie groans. “Dinner's been done since forever and it's gonna get cold!"

"It hasn't even been ten minutes, Boniface." Odile sighs.

"FOREVER!"

Mirabelle giggles and struggles to close the door with her arms full of clothing.

Isabeau holds his hand out for Siffrin to grab onto and slowly helps them to their feet. Steam wafts off from their shaking legs. They hang on tighter and step out, but don’t let go of Isabeau for another moment.

“You okay?” he asks softly.

“Yeah.” They nod. They let go but hover their hands over his forearm for a moment until they can calm the shaking of their legs enough. He towels himself off and slips into his soft, clean night clothes while Mirabelle and Isabeau switch into theirs. It’s barely a second after they finish before Isabeau is back to drying their hair.

Their knees grow weak and they lean against him.

"Whoa, Sif. Let's get you to bed. We can eat there too."

Siffrin stumbles upright and nods. "Sounds good. I uh... think I could sleep for a year."

"Hah, I think we all could." He takes Siffrin by the shoulders and guides them over to the bed. He flops down halfway on it and both Isabeau and Mirabelle have to maneuver his limp noodle of a body into a more comfortable position. They wrap him up in many blankets and settle in on either side of him. Bonnie and Odile arrive soon after with plates piled high with food.

Siffrin smiles and leans his head against Isabeau’s chest.

Warm.

[lilithofpenandbook]

Out of everything that traumatised Neville, Snape isn't one of them. If he is, that's not because Snape is abusive, it's because Neville is literally weak. That's not an insult, that's his flaw- being unnecessarily scared of everything. The other children are not afraid of Snape himself. They're more afraid of the consequences of angering Snape (house points lost, detentions, scoldings) rather than Snape as a person.

Neville's feelings are shockingly enough, not valid. Those feelings of fear, that cowardice? A flaw. Just as much as arrogance, spitefulness, being overly afraid is a flaw and in his case makes him a danger to others, as does his clumsiness and forgetfulness. Now, forgetfulness isn't something you can choose, I'd call it a weakness more than a flaw, but at the same time there are ways to manage it. But the cowardice? That's a flaw that needs to be corrected.

Neville's trauma comes from his family. His uncle is awful to him, as is his grandmother, and seeing his parents in such a state is enough to mess anyone up. He comes from a messed up family. It does not come from Snape.

People also like to say that "Oh look his boggart is Snape even though his parents were tortured!!!" but here's the thing: Neville was probably never even present.

He probably never ever even saw his parents tortured. He knows what happened, but was most likely never a witness. If he was present would he have actually lived? Of course not. So of course he's not going to have that as his worst fear. It's not going to come to mind in school. Not when he just got grilled by Snape.

Neville's been through traumatic events, that's undeniable. But Snape is not one of them. Snape isn't obliged to be nice to Neville. Snape's job when it's Neville is, by some point, just making sure Longbottom doesn't kill them all. Neville's cowardice and clumsiness aren't reasons to coddle him. If I was teaching Potions, I'd have kicked Neville out by second year- no way am I risking a whole class because one child can't follow basic instructions.

Neville's family is the real problem in Neville's story. They're supposed to look after him and care for him. If we're going to be talking about this boy's trauma, we need to discuss how he was more alarmed at the thought of his grandmother being his boggart than Snape was to the point that he didn't mention her, Lupin just mentioned her to give Neville an idea of how to sort out the boggart

And let's also talk about why Lupin decided to essentially completely humiliate a colleague that is already not respected by the children. Making his likeness look ridiculous is so petty and unprofessional. Lupin could have easily told Neville to do literally anything else that would have made the situation funny without making a mockery of Snape, but he didn't. He chose to suggest the grandmother's clothes to humiliate the real Snape- look at what happened at Christmas when Snape got that hat from his cracker, he was clearly upset by it, he clearly knew why the boys were laughing-and not only that, he prompted Neville through the entire thing. He didn't simply say "imagine Snape in your grandmother's clothes", he dragged out the entire thing to make it as ludicrous as possible (like, why the handbag? Why did he prompt Neville to also describe her handbag? Obviously to add to the ridiculousness). That's his colleague. He's leading the kids to disrespect his colleague, their teacher. When you read that scene, it's fairly obvious Snape was likely to be Neville's boggart due to him literally making a remark that embarrassed Neville seconds prior that Neville visibly reacted to (and in all honesty, it was a fair warning. Sarcastic, but fair- Neville should not be entrusted with anything dangerous and DADA involves doing things that could hurt others). If you want to talk about the boggart scene, acknowledge how Lupin had a full conversation with Neville to prompt him to imagine something to humiliate Snape with. "Oh, it's just a boggart" But it's not. Something like that is going to be spread, gossiped about, it will ruin whatever little respect the kids have for Snape. Lupin was behaving absolutely unprofessionally and honestly when I looked at it just now, it made me feel a little sick the way Lupin was talking.

And I'm not even going to discuss Trevor The Toad, I've already gone on about him multiple times before. It's probably the most misunderstood and misused scene against Snape. Like, it only takes two seconds to realise that if Snape's intention was to hurt or kill Trevor, he would have just squished Trevor when Trevor was reduced into a tadpole (was it a tadpole?). As it was, he didn't even leave Trevor as a tadpole and make Neville make the counter-potion, he administered it himself and was specifically mad that Hermione helped Neville after being told not to. Once again, Snape's not being abusive or a bully for the sake of it- he's trying to be a teacher. It's the kind of thing you hate as a child but grow up to realise that actually, the adult had a point. Even if it seemed unfair at that moment.

Anyway, people geniunely don't give a shit about Neville's trauma, and when they do, it's to use it against Snape without acknowledging that actually, it's far worse that his Boggart could have easily been his grandmother but Lupin didn't allow it (he didn't even question why he was so afraid of her). It's far worse that his uncle treated him so badly. It's far worse that the people who were supposed to raise Neville were cruel to him. And it's far worse that McGonagall, who IS supposed to care for Neville, is just as mean to him as Snape is.

The fact that people (Marauders Stans) only care about Neville's trauma to bash Snape. It's always Snape was his boggart never McGonagall risked him dying twice and humiliated him in front of everyone. Or his grandma treated him like shit and his great uncle nearly killed him several times. They literally don't care about Neville. It's Snape fans who actually care more about him (even if they don't care about him) because they don't treat him/his trauma like a tool (which is a very low bar). I feel really sorry for him. After everything he went through, his trauma is not talked about enough.