#your corruption is one thing but a women's safety is another

[just2bubbly]

A 3 year old got raped in a school today, 3 year olds!? in a school?! DO NOT ASK WHAT THEY WERE WEARING, OR WHERE THEY WERE GOING, OR HOW LATE IT WAS BECAUSE THEY WERE KIDS IN A SCHOOL WEARING UNIFORM

and the man that raped them joined the school on 1st August, not even 2 weeks into his job and he RAPES kids, not to mention how we don't know the kids he might have touched before.

AND THE WORST THING IS THE GOVERNMENT CHOOSE TO NOT DO ANYTHING- THE POLICE KEPT THE GIRL'S PARENT WAITING FOR 11 HOURS BEFORE FILING AN CASE

[phantasmique]

Synopsis: You're pregnant by the King of Curses, but as violent as he is, there might just be some gentleness beneath it all.

Warnings: Mentions of cannibalism; a tiny, tiny dash of blink-and-you'll-miss-it spice; murder (it's sukuna).

Part two.

There were many things to consider as a consort to the King of Curses. His proclivity for violence, his cold indifference towards humanity. He's crushed thousands of lives beneath the palms of his hands, spilt blood and sliced flesh beneath his talons simply because the urge had struck him. He's cut down women just like you, for something as simple as breathing too loudly.

It hardly comes as a surprise whenever you wake in the morning, long before the sun has crested past the horizon in shades of gold and lilac, only to learn that another one of your fellow concubines has fallen to your lord's ire. Slain for reasons that you have longed since elected to ignore. They mattered little in grand scheme of things, and they often came down to small, tedious motives: She took too long to respond to one of his questions, she stuttered when she responded to him, she gazed at him for too long without permission.

You've learned long ago not to care. You've snuffed that part of yourself out. Crushed it underfoot as easily as one would do to a troublesome insect. Empathy will not ensure your survival in the King of Curses courts, and you've done well to persist after all of these years.

To nod when expected, to keep your eyes leveled to the floor unless ordered otherwise, to speak only when spoken to even while the urge to berate him burns at the tip of your tongue like something molten. A hot ember in your mouth, but you refuse to spit it out.

You learned how to read him. To see the subtle ticks and expressions that would show on his face, using them as a guide for his fickle moods. You knew your place. You knew how to survive. And as exhausting as it was, it was manageable. All was well, until it wasn't.

❃ "You're pregnant." It was clipped, blunt, detached. Said so candidly, as though he hadn't said something that had your heart plummeting down into the pit of your stomach like a stone. You had looked up at him then, wide eyed and openly gawking from your place posted at his feet with something like a scoff threating to spill past your lips. Your mind had scrambled, crawling for an explanation, longing for an answer.

That isn't possible. Curses aren't capable of reproducing. You know that he was human once, a long time ago, but that bit of his humanity must have long since perished. Right?

Pregnant. That shouldn't be achievable for you to produce a child with a curse. That had been a small shred of peace, a truth that you had clung to. That you had kept close to your chest, knowing that regardless of how many times he'll take you, carving a place in you for his pleasure, that you'd never have to bear his heir.

You do love your lord, in a twisted sort of way. He isn't merciful, or kind in any capacity. The brutal, corrupt entity that he is. But he does provide a safety that you might not otherwise had, a home and leniency towards your village that others have not been afforded; thus, a grace extended to your family.

Still . . . someone like Sukuna as a father. Was he even capable of such a thing?

It's true that your time of the months was late, but that had been easy to excuse. Your monthly blood had been overdue before. Delayed by stress and anxiety. And with Sukuna as a lover, you would not dare to sleep with another man. Not that you'd want to, anyway.

But surely he was lying. That wasn't possible. You couldn't be pregnant. Not by a curse. Not by him.

Your mouth had opened, lips parting to speak. To gasp or to deny his claim you weren't sure, but he had silenced you before you could even attempt to force a word out. Lazily lifting a single hand while all four of his eyes slipped down to settle on you, glaring red and piercing in the dark of the shrine.

"I wasn't a question." His nose twitched just the slightest, as though he's caught the scent of something odd, but you were certain the there was a smile nudging at the corners of his lips. As though some part of him was pleased.

Your voice was snagged. Dead in your throat. You had to draw in a tight, shaky breath to even attempt to form a sentence. "That's not pos-"

"I can smell it on you." He answered. Still lounging on his throne. Undisturbed while your world crumbled. " It's practically wafting from your pores. Make no mistake woman, you're carrying my heir."

❃ You had expected a swift death after that. There was no way that the King of Curses would ever entertain the notion of a lowly human bearing his offspring. Tainting his blood line. But the killing blow never came. It nearly made your unease worse. You aren't ignorant to his diet. His taste for human flesh. For the blood of women and children. It made you feel like a pig for slaughter. Meat being preserved for a feast. You've always been a prisoner here, a slave to his wiles, but now you were an animal, a brood mare. You've only ever had to try and save your own skin. To worry for your own life, but now you weren't afforded the luxury of selfishness. You had an unborn life growing in your belly and it had terrified you.

❃ But instead of shunning you, Lord Sukuna was showering you with a sense of possessiveness that you have never experienced from him before. Sure, you were used to the marks. The blotches of plum and blue and crimson that he would scatter along the flesh of your neck and breasts, the tender pink lines that he would mar along your skin, branding your hips and thighs from his talons. But his greed extended little beyond that. You were free to wander the courtyard with the other courtesans at your side. Small moments of serenity that you were all given in between your duties. Free to gossip, and read, or nap beneath the Sakura and plum trees; admiring the petals as they fall and glide across the currents. Carried off far past the shrine walls.

Sometimes, you'd imagine that those petals were you.

Now those small blessings are a peace that you are no longer extended. Guards now follow your every move. Stalking behind you closely like shadows. Silent, constant, and close. Always looming. Always there by Sukuna's decree to monitor and scrutinize you.

❃ You were no longer ordered to sit along the steps, posted at his feet like a loyal dog. He had you perched on his lap instead. Cradled on his thighs. Constantly gripped by at least one of his hands in some compacity. He had become keen on holding a palm to your stomach whether he fully realized it or not. Keeping it flat on your abdomen as though he was shielding your unborn child from the world, with the massive height of his body pinned along your back. Keeping you clutched to his chest as he was waiting for a threat to try and snatch you from him.

He'd keep you there for hours, seated between his massive thighs while peasants and aristocrats alike would get on their knees at the base of the throne's steps, bowing on their knees and begging for mercy and exemption from his slaughter. All while you were in something that was suspiciously close to an embrace. Not that you would voice such a thing to him. Not even with the safety of carrying his child offering some sort of immunity. Not at the risk of invoking his anger. But with how tightly he kept you secured in his arms, his chin raised over the crown of your head, there was little else to call it. And you loathed how much you were beginning to find comfort in it.

❃ Of course, he'd always find ways to shatter that sense of delicate security, whether or not he truly meant to. Namely when he had a servant executed. All because the young man had paid you too much attention; foolishly asking you if you needed any assistance navigating the gardens given your "delicate condition" as he had put it, offering his hand for you to take in the means to help you in your steps. All it had taken was for his fingertips to brush along yours.

In second he was there. Living, breathing, rosy cheeks and a kind smile. And then red. A crest of blood fanning out from his neck. And those gentle eyes. A brief flicker of life in them, and then dull. Muted like a set of worn marbles.

His severed head met stone with a heavy thud, rolling and rolling softly until its traction was halted by grass and moss. His body followed only moments later. No longer held up by spirit and blood, it gave beneath its own weight; knees buckling to collapse like a felled tree.

Despite the balmy nature of the breeze, gentle and humid, you felt frozen. As though your veins had been rushed with chilled water. You couldn't breathe as you stared at his body, disconnected and lifeless like a child's toy that's been carelessly broken and discarded.

"Pathetic vermin. He should know better than to touch things that don't belong to him." His shadow stretched over you then, eclipsing you from the light as the moon does the sun. His cursed energy prickled over your skin, seeping past the barrier of your garments to brush over your flesh, locking your limbs in place.

"A simple warning would have sufficed," you mumbled. Forcing your words out past the heavy feeling of your tongue. They feel broken and hushed all at once, but you can't stop looking at the way the rich maroon seeps out across the fresh green of the lawn, mixing with the morning dew.

His voice slips out into your ears then, a low rumble, possessive and unyielding. "I don't do second chances."

❃ You could hardly call a being like Sukuna soft. He was all hard edges. Harsh. From his brash, unyielding attitude to the rigid planes of his body. Taut muscles and serrated talons. Violent teeth that were honed to tear through flesh and snap bone, but it was undeniable that something in him had relented. Turned malleable by the sight of the bump peeking out from the layers of your skirts. Not quite tame, but . . . tolerable.

❃ He had requested - ordered - that you sleep with him in his quarters from that point onward. A command that split through the haze in your skull like the snapping of a neck.

Your brain was still cloudy. Fogged over and drawn blank by an intoxicated thrum, limbs lax and exhausted after he had drawn orgasm after orgasm from your body. Tipping you over the edge and under a rush of pleasure with a sadistic kind of delight; a sharp, wolfish smile had been split across his face.

The mere idea of getting up from your place on his bed and shuffling your way back to your sleeping quarters on wobbling legs, smeared with cum and sweat had seemed horrendous, but you knew what was expected of you. It had been muscle memory when you nudged your body up from the bedding, slipping your legs over the edge as you scanned the floor for your tattered jūnihitoe; ripped and torn in his fervor to have you naked. Discarded somewhere carelessly.

Then a hand was gripping you. Holding you tightly by the nape of your neck as one would scruff an untoward cat. It had a cold dose of fear skirting beneath your flesh, shivering down your spine and locking you in place as easily as the grip on your neck.

"You're to sleep here from now on."

It was firm. Final. No room for you to argue. And you didn't.

❃ It's lead you to an unexpected discovery. The King of Curses can purr. You had hardly believed it when you first heard it. A low, repetitive hum that had roused you from your sleep in the night. A guttural noise right beneath your ear, breaking periodically in between the gentle rise and fall of his chest. It had caught you entirely off guard. So much so, that in the moment, you assumed you were imagining it. A hallucination brought on by sleep. But the longer you stayed awake, forcing your eyes to remain open as you lifted your head to stare at the slumbering King of Curses, it was unmistakable - he was purring.

Like a kitten would. A soft, gentle sound that juxtaposed horrendously with an entity like him. It nearly made you laugh, but you had just enough wit and self-restraint to contain the sound before it could bubble up to the surface.

You aren't certain how long you had remained that way. Slightly propping yourself up to admire him in the dark, tracing over his face as the light of the moon poured into the room, painting over his skin in hues of blue and soft white; painted by the night.

His scowl softens in his sleep. The furrow between his brows fading into something placid, that arrogant grin - more of a snarl, really - now neutral. He almost looks harmless in moments like these. No glinting teeth or glaring, burning eyes. It's here that you can imagine that he isn't a possible threat. That he won't place you between his fangs and bite until there's nothing over left except for scraps and shards of bone.

❃ He's kind in his own way. A thought that you never once expected yourself to have. Not in regard to him, at least. But he tries, in his own way, to be gentle. When walking with him in the past, you were always expected to trail after him by a few paces, never at his side, but now he makes an effort to guide you at his side. Keeping a hand secured to the small of your back so that you don't fall behind. Now he he's forgone that all together and has taken to totting you around all together as easily as if you were made of feathers and cushion.

It's become a chore to move. Your sense of balance has been altered for the worse, thrown off by the weight of your belly that longs to tip you forward. And the swelling of your feet does little to help, smarting and uncomfortable. You're a stranger in your own skin. Sluggish, as though you've been packed in tight and tugged down by stones.

He's rushed you before in the past, glaring down at you from over his shoulder without a shred of sympathy. He appeared as though he was possibly considering in finally smiting you down, inconvenienced by your lumbering as you willed yourself to follow after him down the corridor in a sluggish waddle.

"Walk any slower and you'll truly be testing my patience."

On any other occasion you could have brushed it off. Ignored it as simply as the other comments he's made at you before, but your ability to control your temper has become poor as of late. Turned brittle and weak by the changes in your body. It's made your tongue loose and sharp, and without thinking you had snapped:

"My apologies for my current state, my lord, but this is just as much your doing as it is mine. So unless you intent to assist me, I suggest keeping your comments to yourself."

As soon as you blurted it out and registered the sound of your own voice, you fully expected to have you head struck clean from your shoulders. You always imagined that the last thing you ever see would be the carmine flash of his eyes before your vision went dark.

His eyes are indeed on you. Still observing you from over his shoulder. They narrow, thinning down into a familiar scowl, and you're certain that this is the end of line for you. It's fallen silent. The world drawn to a hush as you count down the seconds till your death. It's involuntary when your hands drift down to cover your stomach, fingernails clinging at the silk as though it might possibly protect your child.

But the killing blow never comes.

"You're a testy thing today. I'll ignore it - just this once." The rumble of his voice is the only warning you get before he's shifting on his feet to face you. A pair of hands fasten around your hips, a single strong arm slipping around to support your spine as you're suddenly lifted from the ground to be held to his chest. It happens so suddenly that it nearly disorients you. A complaint rises up from your chest, but as soon as you register the relief that melts over your feet at the absence of carrying your weight, it has you falling silent. Settling to sit complacent, and at ease in his hold.

❃ He's come to tolerate your defiance. No doubt pardoning you because of the heir you carry. But there were many instances where he would not relent, no matter how stubbornly you tried to remain in your opinions. Namely in regard to the denial of indulging in a very particular craving.

Initially you had thought nothing of it when Masami had tripped. Somehow stumbling on her skirts and collapsing down onto her knees in a nasty fall. You had rushed to her as quickly as you could, some of the other girls following in suit to crowd around her.

She had raised her hands then, facing them up towards her face so that she could inspect the skinned flesh there. Inflamed pink and riddled with small red abrasions that marred the heels of her palms.

Small wounds in the grand scheme of things. Something that you yourself have obtained throughout the years, but not once has the sight of it achieved such a response. You're certain that you could smell the blood beading past the parting of the skin. It wasn't a scent that you've learned to associate with blood, all pungent and iron. This was pleasant. It was rich, enticing, melting along the summer air like something buttered and warm. It made your mouth water. Suddenly your stomach was too hollow. Famished.

Your focus narrowed down, and you couldn't help but to admire how the sunlight glinted delicately along the red. Glittering faintly like flecks of gold on the seeds of a pomegranate. You wondered then, what it would taste like to run your tongue along her palm. To have the blood spread into your mouth.

It wasn't until someone said your name, loud and sharp, that snapped out of your daze. Jerking in place as though you had been stung. It wasn't until you met Masami's stare, her eyes wide and a little panicked that you realized that you had been staring. Focused intently on her wounded hands with the same hunger of a dog eyeing a slab of meat.

Sukuna had found out, of course. He had eyes and ears everywhere, shadows tucked into every corner; and no matter how quietly one might whisper in the amongst themselves, he always manages to hear.

He had shocked you honestly, when he had taken to approaching you about the topic rather than opting have Uraume slip human flesh into your meals. Still, you had refused. This was something that you could not possibly get yourself to budge on. The thought of it made you nauseous, it had your stomach turning despite the hunger pinching at your gut.

Reduced to a complete stranger in your body as the child in your womb altered it into something unrecognizable. Riddling it with twisted urges that made you want to run away from yourself. Haunting you with a hunger that would keep you awake at night, fantasizing about a craving that should make you fall ill. That should have you trembling with dread, and yet your mouth would only water at the thought.

The stare that he had leveled you with unamused. Arresting as it fixed you in place and forced you to still. As motionless as a statue as he looked down his nose at you, all four of his eyes latched onto your form in glints of searing red; a glint of fangs showing past his curled lips.

"Do not forget that it is my child you're carrying. Denying your hunger is only prolonging the inevitable. You'll cave eventually."

And he was correct. He typically dines alone, but since your pregnancy he's taken to having you accompany him for his meals. He had respected your demand that you were only served human food. Though you never missed the almost arrogant way that he would observe you as you plucked rice into your mouth. Like he was relishing in yourself induced suffering. Like he was waiting for you to break. The curiosity in his eyes always present, but like a challenge you tried you hardest not pay attention to the scent of cooked flesh permeating around the dinner table.

Try as you might it wasn't long until you had all but stolen a cut of meat from his meal, cooked rare and bleeding. And like some sort of ravenous animal, you had scoffed it down, clutching it with trembling fingers that shoved it in your mouth quicker than you could fully chew. Unable to pay your guilt, or the delighted expression on his face any mind as the famished pit in your gut finally felt something close to relief.

❃ As much as you love your child, there are times where it's already begun to display too many shared characteristics with their father. Namely the ability to disturb you and ruin your sleep. They get restless in the night; like clockwork, tossing and turning in your belly and battering the inside of your stomach with a near constant stream of kicks.

They weren't even born yet, and already they seemed to be throwing a tantrum. Pitching a fit as though they were demanding to be released.

It would force you awake, keeping your eyes wide open while sleep stung at them, weighing them down with the temptation to slip closed. But as soon as you would begin to nod off, it's as though the baby in your womb knew, and they'd make sure to punish you with a harsh nudge of their little foot. It's a wonder how something so small can deliver such a harsh strike. Enough to have you wincing; the air hissing sharply through your teeth while you glare up ceiling like you might find salvation in the shadows settled there.

"Are you determined to interrupt my sleep, woman? Why do you keep whining and huffing?"

As enticing as you usually find the sound of his voice, the sudden sound of it rumbling across the quiet is only grating. Your annoyance flaring, worn thin by the bout of kicking that's being delivered to the tender stretch of your stomach.

It had your voice cracking out with equal irritation. Unrestrained in your ire. "That's because your child won't stop kicking at me."

You can't stop yourself from turning your head over to glare at him, meeting his scowl, finding the intense red of his eyes in the dark.

"How annoying." He grumbles, face pinching into a peeved grimace. It makes you tempted to try and climb up from the bedding and leave his quarters all together. Perhaps you could take a walk around the estate until the baby settles. Sometimes if you speak to it, or hum lowly in those old lullabies your own mother had sang to you as a child, they calm down. Soothed by the sound of your voice.

It's as though Sukuna can sense your intent, and in a blur, he's gripping you by the torso to tug you up to his chest in a grip that's uncharacteristically gentle. Nestling you against his body as though you could possibly break.

He's done it before and yet it always manages to shock you into silence. To have you fall quiet and motionless lest you break whatever spell has fallen over him.

It makes you wonder if this is what it would feel like to be a rabbit drawn in to slumber with a wolf. Nestled against its fur, expecting a flash of snarling, drooling teeth, but only finding comfort and warmth instead.

"Troublesome, aren't you?"

There's the desire to retort. To give some sort of scathing remark in defense of yourself. To remind him that the child in your belly is very much his doing just as much as it is yours. Then one of his hands is slipping across the swell of your stomach, smoothing over the skin in a gesture that should be too soft for a man like him.

Using the same hands that are covered in blood from slaying thousands, sorcerers, men, women, and children, to cradle where your child rests. It clicks then that he isn't talking to you.

You dare to glance up at him, and it quickly confirms that his attentions are pinned down on your stomach. The expression on his face is tired, exasperated, but you swear that you can see something almost tender melting at the irritation there.

You wince when the baby lands another kick just beneath your belly button, directly where Sukuna's palm sits, as though they can feel the pressure of it.

"Restless, are you?" He muses, caressing his thumb along the bump. "There's plenty of time for all of that later. There will be many a sorcerer for you to torment once you're older, but for now it's time to rest. Let your mother sleep."

It's so conversational, the way he speaks to them. Talking as though they might possibly answer, and with how strange a being like Sukuna is, you truly wouldn't be surprised if he revealed to you that he could communicate with your unborn child in some manner.

You can feel the baby shifting, some part of its body brushing against your stomach as it moves. And act of defiance possibly, and you half expect to receive the sting of another kick, but it never comes.

You're practically holding your breath as you await another strike, yet there's nothing. Only calm. Only the dim sound of your steady breathing and the soothing hush that's fallen over the dark of the room.

Finally, there's peace. The warmth of Sukuna's body seeping into your back like the steam of a hot bath and just as easily it has your limbs unwinding. The weight of sleep engulfing your body, causing your eyes to fall heavy, the lure to slip shut falling over you like the comfort of a blanket.

His voice purrs out then, low and hushed, thrumming along your shoulders while he whispers a delicate command.

"Sleep."

But that time, you're certain he was speaking to you.

[reminiscingtonight]

A Chaotic Sort Of Love

Alessia Russo x Williamson!Reader

Word Count: 707

A/N: You can’t expect Taylor to drop an album and me to not write a crackfic about a song

[WOSO Masterlist]

“I have something to tell you.”

Leah’s deep in conversation with the other Lia when you interrupt. 

The locker room’s mostly empty by now, only a few of your teammates still hanging around. 

You’ve planned this entire thing out to the T. Even down to who’s still in the locker room. There’s not enough people around where news of what you have to share would spread like a wildfire, but there’s still enough where the necessary people would stop Leah if it all got out of hand. 

Alessia’s meekly standing beside you when your sister looks up. Lia simply shrugs when she’s given a questioning look. Despite the two of them being the best of friends, you still go to the older girl for advice quite often. But whatever this is about you haven’t told her a thing.

Leah gestures for you to continue. 

You swallow nervously. “Okay. Well. Less and I… we’re dating.”

And just like that, the air turns frosty.

“You and Alessia are what?” Leah’s eyes instantly narrow as she fixes her gaze upon the striker by your side. Despite towering over both you and Leah, Alessia wilts, her height doing nothing to dissuade Leah from taking a menacing step forward.

You shift yourself so that you’re between the two blondes. “Relax, Leah.”

“You want me to relax? Well I want you to not be corrupted by two-left feet, stumbling, doe-eyed… giants!”

Someone snorts from across the room at Leah’s floundering insult, and Leah’s quick to send her glare after its owner.

You roll your eyes. “I want you to relax because I’m actually pregnant. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

Leah jerks her head back so suddenly you’re a bit worried about whiplash. Her eyes dart between you, Alessia, and then your stomach. She’s silent for a moment, mouth opening and closing as she looks for something to say. “You’re what?”

You shrug, letting out a loud sigh. 

Leah takes another tentative step forward. You can feel Alessia stiffen a bit more behind you. But this time Leah’s only focused on your stomach. 

“Are you really--”

“No!” You slap Leah’s hand away before it can make contact. “I’m into women Leah. This woman,” you gesture backwards towards Alessia. The blonde instantly drops her eyes, internally groaning at the way you continue to rile up your sister. “I’m not pregnant. But you should’ve really seen your face when I said I was.”

Leah reaches out again but this time you’ve already darted away towards the safety of the older Lia. 

The Swiss woman looks mildly amused, holding out a hand to stop your advancing sister. 

“But--”

“They’re young but your sister is her own person.”

“What if--”

“Own person,” Lia repeats, raising an eyebrow in challenge. 

It always amuses you to see how much your sister defers to Lia when the Swiss woman takes charge.

Leah’s nose flares in annoyance, but even you can see when she decides against challenging the other woman. “Fine. But just let me get this straight--”

“Nothing straight about this at all, Lee.”

“Dude,” comes an exasperated sigh from across the room. You look up to see Katie shaking her head at you, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance. 

You know you’re in for it when even Katie thinks you’ve gone too far. 

To your surprise, however, Leah simply takes a deep breath in. When she finally exhales, she seems less peeved. She shrugs, turning towards her locker to shove her clothes into her bag. “I’m sure you can be dating worse people. Less is nice enough.”

“That’s it? No lecture? No scaring Lessi away from me?”

“No. But I just-- hold on.” Leah grabs your arm, stopping you before you can dart away to your own locker. You meet her eyes head on, not really sure if she’s going to tear you another one or not. From the corner of your eye you can see Lia tensing again, but her next words have you all relaxing. 

“You’re not pregnant,” Leah asks, double checking just for her sanity.

“No--” Alessia pipes up from beside you, shaking her head. 

“Not yet,” you grin.

Leah curses when you duck under her outstretched hands. “Get back here you imp!”

[innorogers]

Lull

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: So this is when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking.

Warning: Fluff / SMUT / MINORS DNI / 18+ / Unprotected Sex /

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter, Natasha Romanoff

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk | 7: Hypnagogia

You slipped through the streets like shadows, holding hands, hearts racing, eyes darting over your shoulders, every sound amplified by the silence of the night. The Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder – or ‘Magic Stark-Potter Thing’ as Steve was calling it – had granted you some safe time. But time was fragile, and you both knew it.

Your powers pulsed beneath your skin, guiding Steve with quiet certainty. You could feel the city’s pulse, see through the walls, and peer into the hidden corners of every alley. You led him down paths that no one else knew, invisible threads pulling you toward safety. The streets, immersed in late hours after midnight, stretched before you like the remnants of some secret map.

When you reached a narrow street swallowed by the night, you knelt down and moved a pile of old garbage cans aside, revealing a small, grimy basement window. You glanced back at Steve, and gestured for him to follow you down.

Turned out to be an underground club, and the party was just getting good.

The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke. Neon lights painted the walls in erratic colors—electric blues and deep reds—while people shouted over the pounding music, their laughter swallowed by the deafening noise.

You exchanged a look with Steve as you pushed through the crowd. His usual composed demeanor flickered, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene while staying close behind you. You weaved through the press of bodies, brushing against strangers lost in their own worlds, music vibrating through your bones as you both made your way to the other side. It felt like a different universe—one that was wild, loud, and completely unaware of the chaos lurking outside its walls.

“I need a computer!” You raised your voice so he could hear.

“I really don’t think you’ll find one here.” He almost laughed, holding your waist and waving through the people around you as you moved forward.

“I know.” You tilted your jaw. “But that’s perfect, look.” You pointed to the computer they used as a register to take orders. “An older one, probably. I need to enter an untraceable code; our network is probably compromised, so I need to notify the only being who can’t be hacked or corrupted.”

“Really?” Now he was intrigued. “Who?”

“Vision.” You continued to scan the place as you moved through the dancing crowd. “These machines won’t work, they’re plugged into their private network. I’ll need something connected to the outside. C'mon… let’s go to another floor.” It was a huge underground bar, so you held Steve’s hand and moved to the stairs.

“I think we’ve got company.” Steve tightened his grip as he noticed some guys entering the floor. They looked like military—tense poses and sharp, alert eyes scanning the place. He looked up and saw more of them on the floor above, near the exits and moving through the whole place.

“Let’s go, we don’t have much time. I think there’s some gear on me that’s making us trackable.” You hurried with him to go down, but stopped when those military men started coming from downstairs. You pulled him aside, hiding in a dark corner, but they weren’t leaving. Steve’s figure—tall, handsome, blonde—was too easy to recognize. A lot of women (and men) were looking at him with flirtatious eyes, intrigued.

You passed by corridors and stairs full of people, using your powers and his sensitive perception to navigate the space. The men didn’t notice you were there, but their eyes were everywhere.

You felt Steve’s body tense beside you, ready to attack at any moment, and the place would turn into hell if that happened. You cupped his face, pulling him closer to the wall, your eyes scanning behind him.

“I’ve always wanted to do this with you…” You smirked as the men passed by, and with your hand on his neck, you kissed him deeply.

Shit. Steve’s body went rigid.

This was the worst place and the worst time, but somehow, it felt so right. He’d almost forgotten how much he needed this. The moment your lips met his, your body pressed against his, the scent of smoke and debris clinging to you from the chase. But your kiss, it grounded him—reminded him why every risk was worth it.

He kissed you in the flicker of shadows, under the flashing lights, in a dark corner of an underground club. Drunk, dancing strangers moved in their own ecstasy, oblivious to the danger. It wasn’t something he ever imagined doing, but then again, you always brought the unexpected. And again...How could you ever think he’d choose anyone else over you? Over this?

He deepened the kiss, pinning you to the wall, his tongue brushing yours, and it felt so right… you tasted like sweetness, laced with something wild, like sin and salvation entwined.

“Steve…” You broke away, eyes still on the men as they passed, and he lifted your leg, wrapping it around his waist. You grinned. “I really don’t think this is the time…”

“Well…” He chuckled, voice rough. “I think it’s the perfect time for this.”

“Come on. Let’s move now that we have the chance.” You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before starting to move.

Taking advantage of the lack of enemies in sight, you made it to the last floor through doors and hidden passageways and arrived at what seemed to be a VIP room.

“There we go.” Your eyes locked onto a computer next to a more sophisticated bar. “That’ll do.” But as you approached, Steve’s senses sharpened, picking up the tension of a threat.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw a group of men—tall, armed, and bearing the unmistakable faces of movie villains. Why do they always look like the bad guys? He sighed, slowly rolling up his sleeves. Well, it was about damn time. He had been holding back this feeling of wanting to punch someone ever since a bomb exploded near your car.

“Mmm?” You turned back and noticed the surroundings. The only guy who had been on a date at a corner table rushed out with his partner as soon as the room filled with the approaching men, circling both of you. He was even polite enough to close the door behind him.

“Oh.” You blinked at the 1, 2, 3… 15 men surrounding you.

“Gentlemen, there’s really no need for this to escalate…” You advised as the tension thickened, movements slowing to a crawl before the inevitable first strike.

“Shut up, doll. We’ll take care of you later.” Said the man who seemed to be their leader, smirking at you. “And believe me, you’ll be well attended.”

“Oh … you really shouldn’t have said that.” You shook your head, already sensing Steve’s fists clenching in response.

“Sir, you’re about to get the smash of your life…” You spun just in time to grab the bartender’s hand as he reached for a weapon beneath the desk, a fight breaking out behind you. “Please don’t do that.” You blinked at him. “I just need to borrow your computer, okay?”

“Um…” The bartender, startled by your strong grip, noticed the Avengers logo on your gear and quickly reconsidered. “Um… this thing runs on Windows Millennium. Like…Yikes.” He gestured at the ancient machine. “Don’t you need something, I don’t know, more modern?”

“It’ll do, thanks.” You hopped over the bar counter and began typing. “If it doesn’t send Vision a signal, it’ll at least ping him with a virus warning.”

The moment Steve moved, the air shifted.

The first punch landed with the force of a freight train, sending one of the goons crashing into a table, shattering glass and upending chairs. Chaos erupted in the room as fists and bodies collided. Steve ducked under a wild swing, his movements sharp and precise, retaliating with a brutal uppercut that left another attacker sprawled on the floor. Damn, this is so boring. A punching bag in the training room felt even heavier.

One of the armed men lunged at him with a knife, but Steve twisted to the side, catching the man’s wrist and flipping him over with ease. The crack of bones echoed as the thug hit the ground hard, and Steve was already turning, launching a swift kick into another man’s chest, sending him crashing through the VIP room’s thin partition wall.

“Babe, you got that?” He moved his head, avoiding a knife—or whatever sharp thing was coming from the back—grabbed the guy by his arm, and twisted it like a towel.

“Just a sec.” You were typing the commands as bottles clinked and tables flew across the room, the thumping bass from the club floor below barely audible over the grunts and crashes of the fight. 

“Just… okay, there.” You turned to the bartender: “Do you want me to upgrade this system for you?”

The bartender wanted to answer, but suddenly bent over as a guy was thrown and hit against the wine cellar. He covered his head and screamed, so you raised your eyebrows and took that as a no.

With only three men left standing, they hesitated for a moment, locking eyes with each other as if silently deciding who would make the first move. But that took forever, and Steve was getting bored. He lunged forward, grabbing the nearest man by the collar, lifting him effortlessly before slamming him down onto the tables, the impact scattering bottles and glasses across the floor.

Before the next guy could even react, Steve spun, delivering a swift elbow to the second man’s jaw, sending him reeling backward into a bookshelf, knocking it over with a deafening crash.

The last man, clearly outmatched, pulled out a gun in a desperate attempt to regain control. But Steve was faster. In one fluid motion, he ducked low, dodging the shot, and surged forward, ripping the gun from the man’s hand and delivering a bone-crushing punch to his gut. The man doubled over in pain, gasping for breath, before Steve finished him off with a knee to the face, leaving him crumpled on the ground.

The room was now littered with unconscious bodies, shattered glass, and overturned furniture.

“Wow…” You said in awe. “You didn’t even sweat.” You were thinking that he sweats more when he’s in bed with you.

And he laughed, thinking the same: “I’m saving that for later.”

Just as the dust was settling and Steve was wiping his hands clean, the door burst open, and Tony sauntered in, his suit gleaming in the dim light.

"Everybody freeze!" Iron man said in a mechanical voice behind his helmet, raising his hand and pointing at… nothing. Then he lowered it, noticing the room was still, filled only with men groaning in pain on the floor, while you and Steve rolled your eyes at him.

"What? I was already nearby when Vis delivered the message just three seconds ago. It's not like I'm late..." He raised an eyebrow at the sight of unconscious bodies and broken furniture, clearly unfazed by the chaos, as the team led by Maria and Sam entered the room with their weapons raised.

"Get 'em all; we need intel," Steve sighed as he walked over to you. "There’s a lot of interrogation to do." He pulled you close. "C'mon, let's go home."

It was almost sunrise when you arrived at the compound. You slept a bit in the car, and when the heroes started debating in the command room about the next steps and strategies, you stretched your body and headed to the dressing room yawning.

You needed a cold water shower to clear your mind before helping Tony and Bruce decipher all the information. Plus, you had to get out of this suit that smelled like grilled cement, ashes, and burnt fabric.

Ugh, you were a mess. You opened the locker and started unzipping the gear when you suddenly heard footsteps behind you.

Steve’s arms locked around you before you could turn. He restrained your wrists as a frenzied kiss landed on your lips, fingers laced with yours, pinning you against the wall. While holding you captive with one hand, he explored your wrists with the other.

He was burning.

The kiss deepened, and all the feelings he had been holding back since the car chase, was poured into the embrace. 

He was so turned on by everything that had happened—the adrenaline, the action, the danger, and the risks. He was impressed, and aroused, so fucking aroused.

He knew you were special, but you didn’t even blink during the chaos. 

There were explosives, drones, and the entire freaking Iron Army chasing you in a car, and you didn’t step back an inch.

This unyielding, unwavering, fierce-as-fuck version of you was driving him insane.

“Steve…?” You broke the kiss because you needed air, though you were enjoying it. “Are you okay?” Didn’t you just kind of… escape from death?

“Better than ever.” He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “I need you.” He said this while lowering your gear’s zipper, inhaling as your breasts sprang free from your clothes. He groaned, kneading them with desperate need.

Oh, okay… You moaned, tilting your head back when he sucked and lapped at them. Your gear was only half off as he pulled down your pants, kicked them aside, lifted your leg around his waist, and plunged into your already soaked folds.

Oh, wow. You gasped in awe as your inner walls stretched wide, completely filled by him, and your bodies slamming against the lockers.

And that’s when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking. 

Yup, what you’d been doing every night was making love. But this… 

This was Steve fucking you. And fucking you hard.

The pace was brutal, pounding with relentless intensity. He held your leg and gripped your ass to keep you in position. With one hand on your neck, forcing eye contact, he fucked you harder and harder.

His voice was hoarse and raw, groaning with lust. When he saw you bite your lip to stay quiet, he smiled and quickened his pace.

“I’ve wanted to do this since you kissed me in the nightclub…” He said, his body slamming into yours, locking you against the lockers.

“Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd…” With those images in mind, he murmured in your ear, his thrusts becoming stronger, admiring how waves of pleasure overtook you, making you pressed your leg tighter to his waist, your breath coming in silent gasps, pleading for more.

“Steve…” You could barely whisper. You couldn’t catch your breath as he pounded into you, shaking your body with the force of his thrusts. Your nails dug into his back, trying to hold back your voice, biting your lower lip so the moans wouldn’t escape. You didn’t even know if he had locked the door—someone could walk in at any moment.

But he was so hard, his pace so fast and relentless, completely out of control.

Steve never came before you did. He always made sure you were satisfied first. But this time, he cums when you finally gave in and moaned his name, his release hot and thick inside you.

Before you could even process it, he pulled out and turned you around.

Your breasts hit the lockers as his hands gripped your waist. He positioned you, and just when you were about to inhale, he was inside you again.

Fuck! This felt so good…! Steve never felt this urge, never wanted this so bad, his eyes darkening with further lust and desire, his hands pressing your waist and squeezing your bouncing ass cheek as he sees how he thrusts inside out of you. 

You are so tight, so wet, so fucking perfect for his cock, as you were tailored made for him. He was probably hard since you commanded him in the car, with that badass attitude and fierce determination, and now you were leaning there, with your elbows against the locker, your tits bouncing as he strokes, your ass cheeks marked as he squeezes and rubs them, and your folds still dripping remains of his last cum. Totally at his mercy. 

Fuck, this is hot.

He was going wild. Seeing you trying to mute what at home would be the sweetest or wildest moan, only spur him on, driving him to fuck you with greater velocity, snapping forward with greater intensity. 

“Let go, babe…” He said, snapping his hips forward. Each thrust hit that perfect spot deep inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through both of your bodies. “Let it go… Cum for me honey… Come on… I know you’re about to…”

He leaned forward, grabbed your face, and kissed you fiercely, his tongue claiming yours. His hand found your breasts, tweaking and tugging at your nipples until they stiffened, begging for attention.

“Fuck, baby… You feel so good…” His voice was a ragged, hot breath near your ear. His fingers found your clit, rubbing fast circles as he continued to fuck you. 

Your moans were loader, and your clit was so sensitive, it couldn’t take more contact, Steve’s thumbs rubbed faster and stronger, and as he continues to fuck you in your spot, when he feels your walls about to clamp, he just whispers in a determined tone in your ear. “Cum, now.”

It was like he had a switch that controlled your body. Your inner walls clenched at his command, and you gave in, cumming long and hard around his cock, your body trembling. All you were making was lust sounds, mumbling his name, trying to breathe and to recover to the ecstasy that went from your clit to your mind. 

“That’s it, my love…” He smiled with satisfaction, hissing through clenched teeth, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you into another fervent kiss.

When his lips sealed yours, the thrusts became faster and rougher, uncontrollable moans escaping as his hands roamed over your breasts. His movements were frenetic, chasing his own orgasm.

You moved with him, drunk on lust, oblivious to everything else. You felt his hands squeezing harder, his gasps becoming heavier, his cock growing bigger and stronger. Finally, he buried himself inside you, erupting and flooding your depths with a hot load of cum. His hips jerked involuntarily as the last drops spilled inside you, and he was finally satisfied.

“Oh…god… fuck, babe…” He had one hand still rubbing your tits, another pressing your clit and feeling his cum overload your folds, and his body resting in yours, covered with sweat, gear at his feet, when the extreme edge washed over him. “That…was…amazing.”

"Steve..." You panted as he pulled out and turned you around, instantly leaning into him. "I need to sit..." Your knees were weak, and your thighs hurt a little, but in a good way, a very good way.

He let out a soft laugh. "I’m so sorry..." He kissed your forehead as he lifted you onto the bench and covered you with his shirt. "Did I hurt you? Oh..." He winced at the marks on your waist and thighs, nearly bruised from his hands.

"Shit, babe... I’m sorry I got carried away." His voice softened, apologetic. "Does it hurt?" He pressed a kiss on your wrists, where he had also been holding on so tight. "Fuck... I’m sorry."

"No." You grinned and kissed him back. "It was amazing..." You leaned toward him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "I loved it. We should have more missions like this."

"As much as I’d love to..." He smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of your face, holding you close. "I hate the danger around you. But hey..." He hesitated for a moment. "About what I said earlier..."

"'Cum, now'?" You imitated his voice, and he let out a loud laugh.

"No, earlier..."

"Mmm..." You recalled your eidetic memory. "'Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd'?"

Your eyes brightened. "You wanna go back to the nightclub so we can make out?"

Steve actually considered it for a second. "We’ll talk about that later... but no, I meant what I said in the car before the Iron Army attacked us like Ultron’s possessed children."

"Yeah..." You didn’t remember. Well, no, you weren’t listening. "I was distracted by the giant bomb headed toward us, babe... I’m sorry I didn’t hear."

He leaned back, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Okay, what I was saying..." Now he was looking right at you. He cupped your face, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. "I think it’s just been proven how deeply, madly, utterly in love I am with you. I don’t have eyes for anyone else..."

"Ohhh!" Now you connected the dots. "So we’re talking about my insecurities because you hung out with your gorgeous ex-girlfriend all day?"

"She’s not..." Steve sighed, then softened his voice. "Well, there. There’s nothing for you to be insecure about. I love you. Only you. And I think I’ve proven my desire to be with you forever with the ring..."

"What?" Now you were shocked. "Wait, what?" You sat up straight. "Was the ring really... really... a ring?"

"Of course it is. What else would it be?"

"Um... you said it was a tracking device."

"It is." Steve sighed. "But eventually, when all this is over, it will be just a ring that means: you’re the love of my life, and I want to be with you forever." He smiles at your incredulous face, and holds you in his embrace, placing a kiss on your forehead: "In this life, and all the lifetimes to come. I want only you."

You stared at him, speechless, feeling the warmth of his arms around you and the weight of his words settling in. His gaze was so full of love, it made your heart race. For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, but then you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his.

"Steve..." You whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know what to say."

"You don’t have to say anything." He replied softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "Just... stay with me. That’s all I need."

You smiled, your heart overflowing. "Yes." You kissed him back. "Now. Always. Forever."

"Okay, now that we’re good..." He lifted you up in his arms. "C’mon princess, let’s take a bath, we are a mess here."

Oh. You raised your eyebrows. You don’t know who he’s kidding; you both know how this was going to end.

The End but TBD :)

Continue to:

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Divider Credits: to the wonderful @cafekitsune

And that's a wrap for chapter 8! Wohoo, I'm so glad I've made it to write a complete smut!! xD I really suck at writing it in english :D So with so many wonderful writers out there, thank you for reading up to here, hope you enjoyed it :D And thanks everyone for participating in the poll last post xD Can't believe fluff won, come on some angst and then a fluff and happy ending won't hurt, right? xD

I'll see you next friday for chapter 9! Wow 9 chapters!! <3

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

*can you let me know if I've missed anyone in the taglist? thanks <3

[personasintro]

corrupted | myg

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; what's worse than living in a fucked up and corrupted world?

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yoongi x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mafia au, angst (?)

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, misogyny, no feminism here, everything is fucked up here (hence the title lol)

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k+

While the world's riots and country has been unsettled for a while now, rotten and violated by local gangs, it is not the most unsettling part though. Citizens say it is controlled by someone of a higher and more dangerous status. Someone whose people always lurk in the shadows, doing dirty business. One, many people don’t know any details of.

You being one of them.

Being just another person who has been forced into living in today’s world, not that anyone had a choice, there is not much knowledge. People talk, they gossip and jump into conclusions. It’s hard to say what’s true or not. So naturally, they speculate and it’s always something harsh and scary.

After all, that’s how it works now.

Unless you’re not a part of one of the gangs, earning your rightful place there and doing all the dirty work of all kinds, you’re just a basic human trying to survive and not get into any trouble.

People work where they can. Just enough to earn money and buy themselves food, somewhere they can live and stay. The amount of homeless people who steal has rapidly increased since the government is gone. Everything is corrupted. Empty. Without life. Just darkness and fear.

There were times when the world has progressed.

Not for women, it is hard to find yourself a good living. Unless you don’t want to be a part of any brothel that’s almost at every corner. People are desperate. Some women love to do it, perhaps they feel powerful that way. Some are not there because they want to be. They use their bodies to bring food and a proper living either to themselves, or to their families.

It’s one of the things you refuse to do. As anyone could imagine, it’s not the cleanest and safest work. One you really refuse to succumb to.

But enough to go out, praying no harm will come to you during your time out of the comfort of the rented small and old apartment that you're staying in.

Clubs and bars are no safer than what is outside, right behind every wall and door. You still consider it as a better alternative of how you could earn enough money to cover your rent and bring food for yourself.

Some women, actually a good part of them, latch themselves to a gang man. It is one of the choices that secures you at least some kind of protection, money, food and roof under your head. They’re known to have more money and security. You see a member of a gang? You run. You don’t indulge yourself with any of them. They’re dangerous. Don’t take no for answers. Most of them.

So far, you haven’t had the chance to really talk to any of them. You avoid them at all costs.

People come out to drink and have fun, even if they know that if someone just got killed at this very moment, only few would react. That’s how fucked up this world is.

No one is truly safe. Even under the fake facade of the world being relatively at peace right now — the words of whispers saying it’s the big boss controlling the country — no one guarantees you safety. Whoever is “up there” and is not afraid to kill or do different sorts of fucked up actions, does not care about anyone’s lives. So many people lost their lives.

People you knew.

And no one cared.

Relatives can’t get any justice. Not even revenge.

A gang member kills someone you know? Someone you loved? There’s nothing you can do, unless you or someone you care about wants to be killed. It’s fucked up.

It’s almost ironic how people dance to the loud music, seeming not to care about how truly fucked up it really is. It’s almost like the world hasn’t changed, people laugh, have fun and are getting drunk. However, there is still a shadow casting upon everyone’s head, filling up every inch and corner available. Nothing is the same anymore.

You would be stupid to tell yourself anything different. Even if it was under the mask of pretending. Even if it’s for a while.

Sitting on a hardened bar stool, you shift in your spot to make yourself comfortable which is very impossible. The bar is hectic. It seems to be doing well considering the amount of people here. One of your neighbors told you they could possibly hire you. It does sound a little silly considering there are no contracts now. They either take you and you do what they say, or you can forget about any job.

As you scan your surroundings in this dim lighting, you spot someone sitting in the corner of your eyes. An empty barstool between you as that someone happens to be a man. You wouldn’t pay him that much attention, you’re just merely cautious when it comes to anyone that’s an arm length from you. He’s just sitting there, enjoying the drink that’s in front of him. It’s hard to spot any of his features, the lack of lights here make it very difficult.

You’re in your own thoughts, focusing on the sounds around you which are just loud and blasting music when suddenly the stranger stares dead in your eyes. Something clenches in your chest, a good portion of shock at the sudden eye contact as he must’ve felt you watching him. There is so much darkness that you fail to notice the tiny smirk that curls the corner of his lips.

He’s got strong features, a smaller and slightly rounder nose — at least that’s what you guess from the seconds that he stares right back at you until he turns back and focuses his eyes on his drink. He plays with a glass, long fingers wrapped around its neck as his fingertips brush ever so slightly against it.

Gulping, you look away, embarrassed that he has caught you so easily. So much for staying low…

“Hiya, cheeks. What can I get ya?”

Head snapping at the bartender who chews on his gum, you suppress the need to glare at him and his stupid nickname, you clench your jaw for a second before you allow yourself to relax.

“Soda will do.” You almost wave him off, oblivious to the deadpanned look you so easily earn in return as soon as you look away from him, not paying him any more attention or eye contact.

That’s until he laughs, rubbing his nose. “Soda? That’s what you fucking order when you’re in this bar?”

Startled at the attitude and obvious mockery, you frown. “I’m not here to get drunk. I’m here on business.” you justify, even though you don’t feel like you have to at all.

But to avoid any more reaction or attention from this dumb fuck, you have to keep it casual. You don’t want to draw any more attention. Fucking hell, you’re the most clothed woman in here. You already do draw enough attention for people to think you’re weird or sketchy. The truth is, not many people have seemed to notice you and you would prefer it that way. Knowing it’s just wishful thinking, you gulp down any insult that wants to come out.

“Ah, got it.” He nods and for a split second, you sigh in relief. But then the dumb fuck has to open his mouth again. “Perhaps you would find the time for me after I clock off here too.”

He smirks, walking away too quickly for you to even react. Your mouth opens agape, knowing what he thinks of you and what he initiated. He thinks you’re a hooker. Well, they’re known for drinking and taking drugs. On rare occasions, there are some who don’t do any of this. Their clients prefer them to be not under any influence. But again, it’s just what you’ve heard and learned to know from a third party.

It’s the deep chuckle beside you that makes you snap out of your offended state. There’s no one beside the man, he’s smirking at his drink and undoubtedly, he’s heard the entire exchange between you and the shitty bartender. It’s the audacity of him that he laughs at that, clearly mocking you just like the bartender did if not even more. He hasn’t been even a part of that ridiculous conversation.

And before you know it, your ego and irritation gets the best out of you. “What?”

You say loud enough for him to hear. You know he does but he still reacts as if he doesn’t hear you. He’s smirking at his glass, tapping his fingers on it a few times. Enough for you to notice the rings on his fingers. It’s like an alarm ringing in your head but it’s already gone by the time he suddenly and slowly looks up. He slowly turns his head, giving you a look with a raised brow. Almost as if he’s questioning if you were talking to him.

And despite the little nervousness inside you, you keep your ground and still stare at him. Even have the audacity to raise your brow at him, making it clear you’re talking to him. The corner of his mouth twitches.

“Not a hooker, huh?”

Is he trying to be funny?

Narrowing your eyes, you hide your clenched fists in your lap. “What? You were interested?”

Oh fuck. Where is this boldness coming from? What the fuck are you doing?! You’re usually careful of how you speak to others. What if he’s a gang member and he’ll pull out his gun and shoot your brains out? No one would bat an eyelash here if that really happened. They would just be annoyed they have to clean your remains. God, the thought of that makes you almost gag.

He breathes out what sounds like a chuckle, it’s hard to tell because it’s too silent for this loud surroundings. “What a girl like you is doing here?” he asks instead.

A girl. Did he just call you a girl?

You’re sure it has something to do with your appearance and a choice of clothing, but the fact he hasn’t referred to you as a woman bothers you. Not that women mean something in this world anyway. Sad to say but for most men and parts, they’re good for sex and that’s about it. It’s a rotten world.

Women barely get any respect.

This time, you use your brain in a better way and settle upon honest and casual information, which you shouldn’t exactly share to a mere stranger. But what harm could it do? It’s not like you just shared your name or any personal information that could tell him your identity. For him, you’re just another… girl in this bar. Perhaps he thinks you’re strange to come here, not drinking and wearing the shortest dress you own. You don’t even do that anymore.

You can’t remember the last time you wore a dress. You choose not to, not wanting to catch an unwanted pair of eyes and attention which is brutally sad and upsetting.

“I’m looking for a job.”

“Here?” he chuckles humorously almost immediately.

You frown, “What’s wrong about here?”

“Why here out of all places?” he questions instead.

“I don’t know if you haven’t noticed, but we don’t have much choice. I gotta live somehow.”

“I suppose it’s better than visiting a brothel, no shaming though.”

“What? Because you’re a daily client there?”

He looks up again for a moment, breathing out a light chuckle once again. Are you this funny? “You don’t belong here.”

You frown in confusion this time, “And where do I belong?”

He licks his lips, reaching for his glass as he silently sips onto whatever drink he has there. The liquid is darkish brown, you would guess that’s neat whiskey right there.

“They shot the latest bartender here.”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t offer any sweetness to it. “No. Just being informative.”

“You barely answer any of my questions.”

“Didn’t know it’s an obligation.”

You groan, rubbing your forehead just as the bartender brings you your alcohol free drink. Fuck. Maybe you should’ve ordered alcohol after all. You definitely might need it for this odd conversation.

“What do you do then?”

He taps his fingers against the counter, relaxed and smoothly as if he has a world in the palm of his hands. “Just here and about.”

“Hm, informative as always.” you mutter, ignoring the burning glance at the side of your face. It’s your time to sip on your drink, enjoying the lack of attention you give him.

You could imagine what kind of dirty work he does. Everyone does one in a way.

“Why are you sitting here then, when you’re looking for a job?”

You sigh, “I’m mapping out this place. I won’t show interest when something might happen here.”

“I just told you someone got killed here like a week ago. Shit happens here.”

“Shit happens everywhere. Thanks to this corrupted world and whoever is controlling it.”

It’s a silence between you for some time. Your curiosity rising up. He seems to be a regular here considering he knows about the shooting. Perhaps he could’ve heard it. You don’t ask any details about that though, settling on something much more curious. Many gossips are around and you do wonder what could he bring.

“Do you know who’s behind this?”

He stays silent, slowly turning his head to look at you again. None of you seem to be looking at each other the entire time.

“Does anyone?”

“Well, people talk. Everyone assumes it’s a man. What if it’s a woman?”

He chuckles.

“What? You think a woman is not capable of ruling the country?”

“I heard a lot of rumors but never that one.” he admits.

“What did you hear then?”

He does that thing again — the corner of his lips twitch in amusement. You don’t care about that though. For once, you actually feel nice to have a conversation. You don’t get a lot of opportunities to talk about this kind of stuff. It is dangerous to be talking about it so freely. Let alone with a stranger. But this one, you’re cautious about but he seems to be chilled out.

However, your guess of people might be wrong.

“Whoever rules it is ruthless.”

“He must be. Who’s okay with killing, violence and drugs? And I just named a very short list of them.”

“He? I thought you considered a female here.”

Popping your chin on your palm, you rest your elbow on the counter. “When you think about it, today’s all about dominance, power and money. Women mean nothing here.”

It’s the brutally honest truth.

“Besides, I don’t think a woman could be so ruthless to the point when people just kill each other.”

“You would be surprised.”

You narrow your eyes at him, not quite agreeing. Surely there could be a woman that would match up to any violent man there is. “I’m not misogynistic, so I won’t completely disagree with that. What makes me think it’s a man is a fact of how it is in here. Women are left fending for themselves and the most protection or at least the slightest feeling of power they can get, is through men.”

“Hm, that’s an… interesting observation.”

“What? You don’t agree?” you ask, snapping your head at him as he chuckles, in a low and vibrating tone.

“Nah, I think you might be onto something.”

You sigh, staring ahead. “Well, I’m just thinking out loud. I don’t get anything.”

There’s a silence between you two, the blasting music remaining in the background as a loud noise which you’re trying to block. It’s not like you’re not a fan of rap but come on, you’re about to get a headache.

The man suddenly stands, chugging the rest of his drink as if it’s nothing. No grimace, nothing. He doesn’t look drunk to the point where he could no longer feel the burn of alcohol.

“You should not work here.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and a speechless grimace makes it on your face. “Why?”

“It’s not safe.”

“Is there any safe place?”

He chuckles, scratching his eyebrow as he stays silent, giving you no proper answer.

“What’s your name?”

“Mingi.”

You frown, “You don’t look like Mingi.”

He snorts, rubbing his mouth for a quick second. “What do I look like?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble honestly. “But it’s not Mingi.”

He doesn’t disagree, he lets you think whatever you want. Again, you don’t know this man and you have no clue whether he’s lying or not. You do have a suspicion because something radiates from him, you’re just not sure what.

“And what’s your name?”

You scoff humorously, “I’m not telling you.”

There’s a breaking sound on your right side, glass breaking and a few people yelling at each other. From the looks of it, it’s two groups getting into a fight where a security tries to take care of it. There are punches thrown and you gasp at the violent image, even though it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. People fight on the streets all the time. You just hope whenever you see someone laying on the ground is a homeless person, and not a dead body.

You turn around, guessing the man is already giving you a knowing look where he warned you about this place.

However once you turn around there’s no one there.

There's an empty spot, almost like he’s been a friction of your imagination. A ghost. Someone that wasn’t even here.

But then there it is.

The empty glass he drank from.

It is enough to assure you that he was real.

[blackpilljesus]

I find community discourse incredibly annoying. People are often like "Wheres's the community? We need community! People are so individualistic these days". Individualism gets a lot of criticism but nobody ever questions why this happens. While there are some merits to communities, historically communities have mainly benefitted the priviledged. Most communities evolve into divide-and-rule politics where some are seen as more deserving than others (based on things that cannot be controlled). If you're a marginalised person, more often than not you get bs from communities, not love and protection as advertised.

When you're on the short stick side of the divide-and-rule politics in communities, communities are dangerous for you. It will be seen as acceptable to abuse & put you in horrible conditions simply bc of what you are. Those who abuse tend to be in higher positions in communities so when you call them out people wouldn't care or believe you. You'll be punished when you fight back however. When you're marginalised in a community you receive the worst brunts from people and it's seen as okay to be less deserving of support. You wont be supported in community.

People talk about "safety in numbers" but when the community faces trouble, they will have no problem abandoning or sacrificing the marginalised to save themselves at large. Communities have no problem throwing others away or isolating them once it benefits them. Alot of the time people are used & abused in communities so they're fed up with that, fed up of being treated like second class citizens in communities.

Look at the way communties people reminisce about & yearn for actually turned out. "We had community back in the day" yeah the same ones full of predatory uncles that would abuse women & children and get defended, the same communities full of victim blaming & shaming women + girls for being abused, the same communities where some were implicitly told they were more inferior but if they obeyed those higher up in power they can be forgiven. People talk about a lack of a "third place" bc of the rise of secularism so less are going to places of worship but many people leave those communities (even if their faith is still intact) because of corruption & abuse. The judgements & hypocrisy in these places is a lot (one of the reasons I personally left religion & the community too).

Best believe if you can hold your own down, being in a community is more dangerous than being alone bc like i said when things go south your ass will be on the chopping block first. Hell if people just want to abuse, they'll go for the marginalised first & so much abuse is enabled in communities. They'll ostracise & shun you and the threat of that alone keeps many in line to uphold abusive structures in place in communities.

"But humans are natural social creatures that want to be in groups" is something I hear often & that should make you stop and think of how so many people going against this instinct to survive says a lot about how dangerous alot of communities are. It's our nature to socialise, be in groups yet it's chosen to be independent because of the danger groups actually present when you're not seen as a valued member of them.

At this point people would either say "look inwards" or "find better communities out there" but the problem is that status in communities isnt entirely based on the merit of the way you behave. Finding communities where you're accepted & valued IRL tends to be based on things you cant control. It's not like the internet where you put yourself out there & eventually find your community even if they live all over the world. In reality it's another ballgame, people are more closed off & judgemental if you dont fit certain standards so it's more difficult to find places where you'll fit in. Also, as mentioned the determining factors of the way you'll be treated in communities are based on things you cant control, your characteristics will do more speaking and determination for you. So it's not as easy as just "find a better community". Given the way activism is on the internet, many people forget how conservative & hostile the real world actually is. Things like sexism, colorism, racism, ableism, homophobia, lookism etc; play a big role in most communities irl which is why many people seek alt communities online even though those come with issues of their own but to not stray away from the point this is why many people arent fucking with -irl- community shit anymore.

This discource pisses me off because when you constantly receive crap from communities people blame you for it but when you leave you get badgered for not having or being part of community. Communities benefit the priviledged as they uplift those on top, they get to take more from communities & enrich themselves while those at the bottom get fucked over and it's no wonder so many people get fed up and decide to put things into their own hands than risk being in/trusting communities that wont hesitate to risk or end your life over bs. I know that not all communities out there will be horrible but as mentioned finding communities IRL where you'll be accepted as a marginalised person is difficult. Finding equitable communities where everyone is held accountable for their actions, where people genuienly help each other to get by & survive over divide-and-rule politics is difficult.

People complaining about lack of community but wont address the rampant abuse that happens in them tells me they dont care about community spirit as they claim they just want pools of people to exploit and are disguising it under communal spirit & protection. I dont fw communities & sometimes people will tell me i cant do everything alone, no man is an island -good thing i'm a woman then lol- but fr the people this crap comes from are the type of people that make communities suck & i wouldn't want to be in a community with them anyways bc they're horrible & would just exploit. Individualism is on the rise because so many of us marginalised people who grew up in communities realise we're better off alone & idc what anyone says if they feel they're better off within communitities then bet but a lot of the time others are better off alone. And icl one positive of capitalism is that it gives you a chance to rely on communities less & have a more independent lifestyle. Yes there's still a level of people/community engagement but we're not as tightly bound to a community like a small tribe in a village bc tbh i'd probably be dead by now if i had to live & rely on others that way.

Instead of just criticising individualism & guilt tripping people to join communities, if people actually care do inflection about your "communities". Except this wont happen bc this isnt about community spirit but looking for others to exploit which is why it's being aggresively pushed.

[lostelfwriting]

Runaway prince Morpheus

But make it modern era

You know how your grandma sometimes gets those spammy, scammy, scummy emails from an “african prince” who is trying to escape the corrupt regime and needs to deposit his wealth into your bank account?

Technophobe Hob who has no idea what spam mail or a scam is.

Btw this is 100 % crack fiction.

History teacher Hob who only got a phone eight yers ago. His students taught him how to use an email when they grew bored of handing in everything through mail or pigeon (seriously, man, mailing your essays???) during covid. So he’s had a small laptop and only used it to access his email for a few years. But then someone reccomends him a couple websites, and what do you mean I don’t need to wait for the new journal to get pronted and mail?! I can read it on the internet a week before it reaches me?!

So, Hob finally starts exploring the internet. But oops, nobody taught him internet safety. The first couple spam emials that he gets are suspicious attractive women that for some reason are interested in him. He brushes it off, kindly turns each of the bots down. Then he starts winning phones. He turns those down too, he is quite happy with his “brick”, as his students call it.

Then he gets an email from a runaway prince from a country that he’s sure doesn’t have a monarchy anymore. He replies with great suspicion. “Morpheus” (Greek name but that guy claims to come from the North and he’s pale as paper) responds with a damn essay that uncovers a huge conspiracy behind his country’s government, and the conclusion is that there still is monarchy that matters but some people don’t aggree with it and want true democracy, including him, so that puts target on his back both from the inside (government) and outside (people who want true democracy and only see him as yet another symptom of the problem). He’s not safe in the country.

Hob, sunshine that he is, offers to help. Sends Morpheus all the info that he asks for, his bank account info, credit card info, his address. He sends Morpheus a lot of money that the prince needs to pay some fees, but he promises he’ll return it.

For three weeks, nothing happens. Hob scours the internet for news of some Nordic prince mysteriously dying or disappearing, but there is nothing. No signs of a huge government conspiracy either, but then it wouldn’t be a conspiracy. Finally, he asks some of his students who are better with technology if they can help him find a person he’s been talking to. He explains how they met. The students gently inform him that he’s been scammed and tell him how to report it.

Hob feels pretty dumb and decides to return to technology-free life. Says goodbye to the moeny that he’ll never see again, if his students are right.

Then one day, a knock on his door in the middle of the night. He opens, because the person sounds quite frantic and Hob will never learn, and the person pushes past him into his apartment and slams the door. And wouldn’t you know it, the man looks exactly like Morpheus from those emails. He looks haunted and pretty beat up, but he’s real.

Hob gets pulled into a complicated web of conspiracies as he helps the prince take the government apart from far away. His apartment turns into a secret hacker den as Morpheus buys more and more computers and... computer things... and apparently, he’s insisting that he can hack the government apart. Morpheus spends day and night slowing down his alleged pursuers and publicising dirt that he has on his own country, and one day, Hob actually sees on the news that several of the country’s politicians end up arrested. His students share memes about the situation with him to cheer him up, thinking he’s still bummed out about the money (that Morpheus has returned tenfold) but in reality he’s freaking out because that proves that this is real.

There are definitely some action scenes. Someone trailing Hob as he’s leaving work, and he leads them into a dark alley and beats them up Greco-Roman wrestling style, because he really enjoyed that hobby at school and he was damn good and nobody ever expects it of him.

Eventually, the whole country is in riot and the current government has to flee and people take over, and some of them demand Morpheus takes over, since he obviously care about democracy, but Morpheus is like nah, I’m comfy here, no thank you. Some feelings have developed between Hob and Morpheus during the few months they spend together with Hob practically force-feeding worcaholic Morpheus and supplying him with a gallon of coffee every day, and Morpheus making sure Hob is alright with being a small but significant part of the greatest scandal in modern history.

And bed-sharing! There is bed-sharing!

[faggotflint]

Help decide the fate of Night City

(A Cyberpunk RED TTRPG poll for my partner and I's home game, propaganda below the cut, and please reblog for a larger sample size)

Help decide the fate of Night City by voting for the new mayor of Night City. You can choose to read the propaganda or cast your vote randomly, but only you can decide the fate of my dear friends

Night City hasn't had a mayor in 19 years, instead, it has been run by a Council of Representatives of each of the major brands that own a share of the city, but recently there's been a call for an election for a singular body to be at the head of the city, as the people of Night City have come to believe the council to be corrupt (and yeah, they think electing one of those said corrupt fucks into office will fix things, but are you really one to judge right now?)

So, let's meet the contenders shall we

First up we have Phillip Roland, Phillip, care to say a few words?

"A Vote for Roland is a Vote for family values. Night City has become an unsafe place to raise our children. Philip Roland understands that if you want to do something the right way, you should do it the old-fashioned way. I promise to establish a foundation for public safety and truly earn the NC's title of 'The City of Dreams'"

Right, and your official corporate sponsor is?

"Petro-Chem"

Alright, thank you, Mr. Roland, next up we have Gerald Albertsun, Mr. Albertsun, a few words?

"A+ for Albertsun, give it already! When the people watch me stream on the Net, they don't think; "Oh, he's gonna fund another war with Croatia" no, they see a guy who screams in his underwear, who also got his start by making Company Garrison 2 tutorial videos, betcha didn't know that!

Uh-huh, right, and uh, your corporate sponsor?

"Danger Gal"

Wonderful, next up we have the Representative of the Hot Zone Hadel Greene

"Let me ask you something, when you look up at the sunset, what do you think of? I think that it's a red sky we all live under, rich or poor. That's why if I'm voted in, I can assure the people that union houses will be built, they will be full, and ready to meet the demands of the-" *mic cuts out*

Wow, that is wonderful, thank you for that Mr. Greene, and, your sponsor is?

*A dubbed voice over an image of Hadel Greene says* "Rocklin Augmentics"

Thanks again Mr. Greene, Now let's move on to Vogel Grill, care to say a few words Mr. Grill?

"Let's get real, the shareholders of Night City know what's best for the people! You don't think the drug addicts on the streets know what to do if you gave them a house, a car, or even a job right? That's why if I'm voted in, I'll ensure the equity of Night City commerce to exceed expectations!"

Wonderful, thank you Mr. Grill, and your sponsor is?

"SovOil"

Right, now, next up is Turanga Ogawa, the Official Arasaka sponsee in this race *interviewer winks at the camera knowingly*

"Arasaka has been the moral compass to which I've lived my life by, they have never steered me wrong. They were so gracious to give people employment, including my fellow candidate Hadel, after the terrible attack in 2023. That is why, when I am sworn in, I shall uphold the same values as I was raised with."

Alright, now, lets take a look at the other side of the gender line here, starting with the fiercest feminist you know, Mrs. Karen Horvolt

"When I'm in charge of Night City, I'm going to ensure it's by women for women, too many men have and abuse too many positions of power, that's why we need to have a feminine perspective. A reset if you will, why don't we make them stay at home and cook and clean for us? Honestly what else are they good for?"

Wonderful, and who is your sponsor in this race?

"See, this is what I mean by men being useless, my sponsor is Continental Brands"

And last, but Certainly not Least, we have Ms. Esperalda Rodrigues

"All this talk of protecting Night City, and no one here has been deployed save for me. Too many unruly characters are let through customs both on to the East and West, why do you think we have such a high rate of violence? You need someone with Military expertise to put people in their place whether they like it or not, that's what I'll do for you Night City."

I see, well, thank you Ms. Rodriguez, and your Sponsor Ma'am

"Militech"

Alright, well, I hope this has helped you to learn a little bit more about each of the candidates and what they can offer Night City, please don't forget to cast your vote this September 11th at your local Night City Polling Station

[holesandlividity]

Wasteland, baby! J.M x Reader

  Summary: Despite the damage years of trying to survive in an apocalypse has done to you Joel still thinks that you’re the most beautiful thing the world has to offer. 

W.C: 1k

Warnings: Angst (there's still fluff,) reader feels unworthy/like she doesn't belong, mentions of death, cannon TLOU violence (brief), I think that’s it but if I missed any please let me know!!

A/N: Joel is so soft in this, your honor I love him!! Gif was created by @guess-my-next-obsession​ (she’s so talented I highly recommend giving her a read!)

       The world had become a cruel and corrupt place. This was true even before the apocalypse, but it had never been so apparent. People used to smile, laugh, and exude pure joy; now, their faces were etched with sorrow and despair. There was nothing to smile about anymore, as people’s reasons for laughter and joy had been forcibly taken away. The world had revealed its darkest colors, and no one remembered the good things that once accompanied the sun's rays. Sunlight now meant waking up to another day of grueling labor just to survive – this wasn't living, it was merely getting by.

       Your typical morning involved lacing up your worn-out boots and making your way towards the fire pit where you'd dispose of a lifeless body – a body that once laughed and smiled, that someone once loved. You couldn't help but wonder about their lives before the outbreak: Were the women you burned mothers? What were the children's favorite toys or books? Each person had their own story – acknowledging their past humanity made your task more difficult but provided some comfort, as you hoped they'd find peace in a place where they could smile and love with their loved ones without fear once again.

       This morning, however, was far from normal. Nothing was ordinary about the arm draped across your waist and the comforting warmth that radiated from the man lying beside you. Part of you felt grateful for Joel bringing you to Jackson, but deep down, something felt wrong. It wasn’t being with Joel; that was one aspect of your life that had felt right. It was inhabiting a safe and secure community while others still struggled to survive under FEDRA's control in Quarantine Zones. 

       You didn't feel deserving of such warmth and shelter, especially considering what you'd done to reach this point. You were a murderer – an evil individual who deserved the same cruelty you had inflicted upon others. A small part of you understood that not killing would have been fatal, but calming your inner turmoil when left alone with your thoughts proved challenging.

       As if responding to your thoughts, Joel began to stir awake. You gently pushed his arm off and curled in on yourself, questioning why you deserved the warmth of another person when you had witnessed the warmth fade from those you had hurt. If Joel wasn't fully awake before, he was now, noticing your withdrawal.

       Joel despised seeing you like this, not because it burdened him, but because he knew you were undeserving of the tormenting thoughts in your mind. It wasn't your fault that others didn't experience security and safety; it wasn't your fault when you had to defend yourself from violence; and it wasn't your fault that the world was so cruel. Yet, you still felt responsible for being part of the world's cruelty.

       Unbeknownst to you, as time passed, Joel was falling more in love with you each day. Although he naturally protected everyone around him, with you, he felt as if you were protecting him. You offered him a sanctuary where he could also find protection and solace. Despite the harshness of the world you endured, you exhibited a kindness towards him that he hadn't encountered in over twenty years.

       Owing everything to you, Joel started believing in his own worthiness and redemption through your perception of goodness within him. If you could see the good in him then so should he.

       Deeply engrossed in your thoughts, you almost didn't notice when his hand encircled your waist and drew you closer against his chest. Your eyes closed as you inhaled his familiar scent; gentle kisses graced your back and shoulders, bringing tears to your eyes.

       "What are you doing?" you whispered softly, concerned about waking him. “Jus’ lovin’ on you is all." he replied tenderly, his lips still brushing against your skin, his voice raspy from sleep. "Sorry for waking you up so early," your voice barely audible as vulnerability washed over you. "S’alright; I was about to wake up anyway," he reassured. Joel pulled away briefly to turn you towards him, brushing stray hair from your eyes and cradling your cheek in his palm.

       He was incredibly gentle with you, and you wanted to believe that everything would be okay as long as he kept holding you. He pulled you closer, pressed a tender kiss on your lips, and rested his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, craving the sensation of his breath on your lips and the security of his arms around you while taking calming breaths to clear your mind. "What's goin’ on in that head of yours, hm?" He brushed his hand through your hair, drawing you even closer.

       Sighing, you tried to relax in his embrace before replying. "Do you ever... feel guilty for everything we did to get here? I killed people, Joel. I–" You swallowed hard and shook your head. "I don't deserve to be here; I don't belong here." You whispered the truth to him and yourself.

       He took your hands, kissed them gently, and placed them over his heart as he urged you to look at him. "You deserve to be here just as much as anyone else living behind these walls."

       "I don't, Joel. No one else has–" He interrupted before you could finish.

       "Do you think I don't deserve to be here?" You shook your head in disbelief: "Of course you do." "Then why don't you? What's the difference between what I did to get here and what you've done?" All you could do was stare at him; he had a point. He was always adept at talking you out of your thoughts.

       Before he could speak again, it was your turn to interject. You leaned in and kissed him passionately, desperate for him to comprehend the depth of love you had for him and how grateful you were for his presence. He ran his hands through your hair, playing with the strands at the nape of your neck. You whispered a “thank you” into his mouth and he whispered sweet nothings and words of love into yours.

       As you pulled away from him, the sun began to rise, casting a warm golden glow on him that symbolized all the goodness within. Smiling, you were no longer worried about your past for the first time in a long while; instead, you hoped that Joel saw the same radiant light within you.

[cheetah-roll]

Just letting you guys know, I think that the most important things in this post are the last 3 1/2 paragraphs. Everything above is still, just as important, but it is mostly me just ranting. If you want to read the point that I'm trying to get across, just skip to there. Would still appreciate it though if you read everything however.

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

I went to a funeral prayer for a man who lost 10 family members in Gaza. Ten. Please think about that for a second. Ten lives is ten lives too many. Ten people is practically my whole family, on my mothers side at least. Ten people is my grandparents, aunts and uncles. The twins and Baby Grace. Ten people, is literally all of my friends, plus my sister, gone. No one should lose that many people in such a short amount of time. No one should even lose one person to outright mvrd3r and g3n0c1d3. And we’ve lost thousands of people. Thousands of innocent men, women, and children, and for what? To claim a land that wasn’t even yours to begin with? A land that you’ve slowly taken over, over a course of 75 goddamn years? 

I’ve been well aware of what’s been happening in Palestine since before October 7th. This conflict didn’t start then. It’s been going on since 1948. For years, the Palestinian people have been pushed from their homes, attacked, and killed. They welcomed the Jews into their land after the H0l0c@u$t. Giving them a home. A place to live, and feel a sense of safety. Instead, their land was taken over by people who didn’t even belong there in the first place. 

I$r@3l has tried to erase Palestine. They have tried to make it seem as if it never even existed. That there has only ever been I$r@3l. Well, it can’t. Palestine has always been here. It’s in your goddamn bible. One of the world's oldest churches was destroyed. Why aren’t people upset? Jesus Christ was born in Palestine. Look it up. He was born in Bethlehem. Does it say that Bethlehem is in I$r@3l? Well, forget that. Bethlehem was a part of Palestine before I$r@3l took it over. There is proof. Jesus was Palestinian. You're literally destroying his birthplace. His home. If you love Jesus so much, maybe think about that shit before you blindly start following every stupid Zionist, western, colonist nation there is. Stupid colonists who think that they have the right to just waltz right into any country they please, rob them of their resources, mess up their systems, destroy their land, and just leave. And then, years later, they complain about how corrupt those nations are. How uncivilized, and impure. You’re the reason they’re like this! You think that you have the right to do whatever you please? Well you DON’T. YOU are the ones who put these corrupt people in power. My homeland is  messed up because of these stupid colonist nations. These countries may be corrupt, but at least we’re not like America or Britain. At least we didn’t force Native Americans from their land. The land that was rightfully theirs. At least we didn’t k!ll them all. Right, cause that was fucking America. At least we didn’t capture and enslave generations of African Americans. At least we didn’t drop TWO ATOMIC BOMBS on Japan! You’ve gone and messed up everything that you’ve touched. So many groups have lost so much, or now have health problems or are facing poverty because they still carry the weight of what you did to them. 

Another thing that I would like to point out, which I’ve been told is now common knowledge, but I’m not too sure that enough people know about it. 9/11 was an inside job. It was all planned by the US. They hijacked their own planes. The people flying them were most likely forced or were offered money or some shit. The whole point of 9/11 was to get an excuse to attack Iraq and rob it of its resources. Because America just COULDN’T STAND another country having all that oil. So, they took it for themselves. They STORMED into Iraq, killed so many people, stole their resources, and then left, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. 9/11 caused a huge wave of Islamophobia in the US. Muslims were sent to jail for no apparent reason. Muslims were killed. We were feared. We were called terrorists. A security guard had to walk my mother and other Muslim students to their cars so they wouldn’t get attacked. People were so afraid of us, but really, we were the ones in danger. All this, just so the US could get some oil. Now, because of what’s happening in Palestine right now, Muslims and Arabs are more at risk. I don’t want to be afraid that the mosque I grew up going to will have ugly, red words sprayed onto its glorious walls. I don’t want to feel scared of my visibly Muslim mother going out one day and never coming home. I don’t want my beautiful religion to be tarnished by the hate and ignorance of others. 

I was talking to my mom one day. I asked her if we could hang a Palestinian flag outside our door. She took my hands in her own, looked me in the eyes, and with such resignation and certainty, she told me that if we did that, we were going to get killed. Hearing your own mother say that? That’s scary. Its fucking terrifying. That tiredness in her voice is something that I never want to hear ever again. And the sad part is, I know that she’s right. If we did that, our chances of getting murdered right on our front doorsteps would skyrocket. 

I feel like I’m living in some kind of dystopian, alternate reality. People are dying. You can see it on TV, read about in the newspaper, but no one is doing anything to help. People are just going on with their lives as if a genocide is not happening right at this very moment. They don’t care. Why isn’t this on the forefront of our goddamn minds? Are the lives of millions of people not worth talking about? Is their safety and their future not as important as your own? The people of Palestine are fighting for their lives right now. They don’t have access to food, water, or electricity. They are stuck in an open air prison, with bombs dropping directly on their heads at any given moment. They have been deprived of basic human rights and their dignity. How is any of this okay? How is the murder of thousands of innocents something that people are choosing to actively ignore? This isn’t okay. This has never been okay. And yet, it happens time and time again. Over, and over, and over. An endless loop of oppression, hate, and bigotry. When will history stop repeating itself? When will we learn?

I know that people have been speaking up about what has been happening recently. So many people have been showing their support, which I appreciate a lot. It makes me so happy to see people that I look up to speaking out about injustice and doing their part. I really hope that things will get better. For the people of Palestine, and for the world. A world where I’m judged for the God I worship, the people I choose to love, my gender, the color of my skin, and even for the way I think and perceive my surroundings, is not a world I want to be living in. I want to live in a world where I’m respected. A world where my choices, and my views, and my life is valued just as much as the next person. So please, do your part helping to end the occupation. Every little thing counts. Post about it, boycott companies, donate, please, just do something. Standing by and doing nothing will not solve anything. If you think that your small contribution won’t make a difference, you’re wrong. Your life matters. Your help will make a change. We can do it.

And with that, I will be signing off. I hope my questionable writing skills helped to inspire at least one person. Stay safe everyone, and do your part.

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free!!

[lesser-mook]

The Government is Coming for Your Kids

This isn’t about Democrats vs Republicans, let’s get that out of the way. The political binary system is just another means to tap into people’s tribalism bias and turn them against each other.

There's already economic reasons, social reasons, pragmatic reasons not to have kids in this era.THIS? Is just further proving why it's no longer viable to you, ESPECIALLY the would be child.

Don't let your ego bring an innocent life into an insane world that's only going to get worse, their misery inheriting a psychotic new world order is not worth you just wanting a child.

Look at the world around you first, THINK about what's best for the baby, vs what you want and how you want the baby's birth to make you feel. 

In comparison to the best interest of the baby, your desires are less than meaningless.

Your ego, is not worth the shit they're going to have to put up with in their generations going forward. It's not worth it.

Your ego. For them? Is not worth it.

The world is going in a direction, they uprooted the traditional family, they've convoluted sex relations, trying their best to oppress/attack & redefine masculinity,  now they want your children.

They couldn't do this when gay marriage was illegal, when the traditional family was strong, and traditional roles are somewhat understood.

NOW they can move in after they've sabotaged the standards, tolerance is law because people want to fit in & be validated at the expense of sanity and reason.

Assault on Children is a symptom of the endgame, because the chess board has the pieces in place, this is all according to plan. And while gay people getting married isn't a bad thing, it's a right, that event was still instrumental to ANY of this happening.

And given another 15-20 years or less, more compromises will come to pass. People losing their kids will be normal.

The Elites need the family unit destroyed, turn women against men, turn men against women, sow discord between the two, to get to the children #1

2# corrupt the children,  turn them against the parents, you conquer the people. (Why? Children are the future, corrupt the little ones, control the future)

3# Blur people's perception of right & wrong, REDEFINE what "normal" is, and you can manipulate The Matrix of what they see as reality. Get them to hand over their liberty in exchange for an illusion of safety.

This is a destabilization assault in real time, America is about to join the ruins of Rome.

Ya'll better wake up.

[project1939]

Day 70- Film: The Lusty Men 

Release date: October 24th, 1952. 

Studio: RKO 

Genre: Western 

Director: Nicholas Ray 

Producer: Jerry Wald, Norman Krasna 

Actors: Susan Hayward, Robert Mitchum, Arthur Kennedy, Arthur Hunnicutt 

Plot Summary: The injured legendary rodeo rider Jeff McCloud travels back to his hometown. Once there he meets a couple who are saving up to buy his childhood home and ranch. McCloud befriends them, and when Wes, the young man, shows interest in competing in rodeos, McCloud mentors him. The money Wes might make from rodeos could help him afford a ranch in months rather than years. But Wes’ wife Louise is sick with worry over her husband’s safety.  

My Rating (out of five stars): **** 1/2 

Wow! This movie kind of blindsided me- it was a great film. I wasn’t expecting it to be so good- it’s gotta be up there in the top tier of 1952 films I’ve seen so far. It’s not a masterpiece at the level of Ikiru or Singin’ in the Rain, but it’s in good company with Phone Call from a Stranger, Five Fingers, and Sudden Fear. 

The Good: 

Robert Mitchum. This is the first movie I’ve seen with him where I really fell under his charms. He looks so perfect in this kind of western- denim fits him like a glove. His stoic laconic demeanor works well here too, and with his extreme masculinity, you just completely buy him as a bull rider. 

Arthur Kennedy. I’ve become a fan of his since the project started- everything I’ve seen him in is impressive. His versatility is considerable- in Bend of the River he played a hardened criminal, in The Girl in White he was a sensitive and scientific beau for June Allyson, in Rancho Notorious he was a man obsessed with vengeance, and in this he begins as idealistic, with an almost childlike hero-worship of Jeff, and becomes corrupted and jaded. There’s a reason he was cast in prominent roles in so many films in 1952. 

Susan Hayward. She’s another actor I’ve developed an affection for during the project. This role requires a lot of skill- Louise could easily have become grating if not played well. She did a good job playing a woman with a hard protective shell. Yes, she can seem harsh, and at one point I was worried she might be being painted as a bad nagging wife, but it all comes from a place of fear. She grew up in abject poverty, constantly moving, with no consistency. She finally has a husband and some financial security, and she’s terrified of losing it. That motivates every single thing she does in the film. 

The character Rosemary. She gave me Dora vibes- my love from Outlaw Women that I’m still pining for. She was a tough talkin’ tough livin’ gal, and I loved her. 

Arthur Hunnicutt as Booker, the beat-up old timer with his war wounds from rodeoing. He’s a perfect character actor, constantly making us laugh with his tall tales. 

This was a very interesting look at rodeo life- what your lifestyle would be if you were a bronc or bull rider. The people you camp with, the prize money offered, the danger involved, etc... It also gave me huge respect for the rodeo clowns who often become decoys for the bulls when they get out of control.  

I loved loved loved that Hayward didn’t fall in love with Mitchum. The poster would lead you to believe otherwise... but even though Mitchum fell for her near the beginning of the movie, the only one she loved was her husband. That flipped all my expectations on their head, and I loved it. 

No guns were even fired or used! I cannot tell you how much I loved that fact. Here we have a western with one of Hollywood’s most macho men, and he doesn’t even have a gun or use one! He finds an old piece of a gun at his childhood home, but it’s not even complete. One of my least favorite things about westerns is guns, so to go nearly two hours without them was not only heaven, but also very daring and interesting. Mitchum doesn't need a gun to prove his masculinity, riding a bull takes multitudes more courage.

The film continually defied my expectations. The two previous examples are big reasons why. The ending is something I also did not see coming. 

The special effects with footage of real rodeo riders. There were some limitations that of course showed, but I thought it was effective. 

The Bad: 

There were some obvious painted sets a few times that distracted me.

The rushed ending. What happened wasn’t the problem for me, just how it was kind of rushed. Two huge incredibly consequential things happen, and they both felt too hurried. If the film had taken a bit more time to hit those emotional beats, it would have been more moving and satisfying, I believe.

[thefrogman]

Yeesh.

How is this thing from 2015 still circulating?

For the millionth time...

I never made that graphic. Those words were never meant to be isolated like that. Someone took my words out of context. There was a much larger post surrounding those words.

At the time of my original post, there had been a mass shooting by an incel and he targeted women specifically. Women were trying to express their genuine fears of being targeted by men and how hard it was to know who they could trust. MRA's kept replying to those fears with, "NOT ALL MEN."

And, in that context, I tried to present an analogy to help people understand people's fear during that time. In my mind, it was always meant to be linked to the mass shooting and not corrupted as in the examples given above.

I definitely could have worded it better. But at the time a lot of my friends were getting hate for being scared of men after a very scary thing. I was desperate to help explain their fear.

I had never had my words stripped of context and spread elsewhere like that before. I had no idea that was something I should have prepared for. So instead of choosing my words very carefully, I chose to post whatever came out of my brain as soon as possible because I was angry at the world and that was all I could think to do.

It was a hard lesson to learn.

At worst, I made a mistake. I haphazardly worded something poorly during a difficult time. I accept the valid criticism that the quote can be used in other ways to hurt marginalized groups.

I guess my issue is that my punishment did not seem to fit the crime.

There is something the above does not show.

Once the graphic went viral, I received a barrage of hate messages, people telling me to kill myself, and death threats. People even threatened to kill my dog. They threatened to dox me and eventually succeeded. Some people found my address and tried ordering pizzas and sending tampons. I was scared for a long time that someone would come to the house and hurt my family.

I finally thought this whole thing had blown over after several months. But the MRA community made sure this graphic (which I did not make) went viral in their circles every few months for several years. Just so I would get another cycle of death threats and trolls.

I think if people had read the original post and seen how upset I was about the mass shooting, they would have realized I didn't have any malicious intent. When you feel powerless to protect your loved ones you tend to speak passionately and hyperbolically.

But I was not judged based on a pattern of behavior. No one took into account anything else I had ever said. No one tried to get a clear picture of my overall character or intention.

They took one singular, out-of-context quote, and tried to ruin my life and threaten the safety of my family.

Maybe I deserved criticism for not thinking what I said through completely. But I don't think what I said under those circumstances justified this cycle of hatred that is now going on almost 10 years.

[lovely-oh-so-lovelyyui]

I feel like we, in the DL fandom, do not talk about how the Church organization people who send in the brides, are fucking trash as well to make a deal with Karlheinz, send in young girls who have faith in them to a bunch of sadistic 100+ year brats who torment them for sport, all for the “greater good” of humanity (ofc young women have to be sacrificed 🙄). Like, THEY should be risking themselves (they’re vampire hunters, like Seiji) for the sake of humanity, not these clueless, young girls.

Yes! I totally agree with you as much as I like portraying Yui’s childhood as something idyllic and much happier than her current state. It's undeniable the church is at partial fault for the atrocities and tragedies committed by the boys.

Now as controversial as it sounds the boys are not wrong to feed or hunt humans for blood, it makes sense for their father to set up a feeding system so there would be less disarray. 

I mean it makes sense, according to the Diabolik lovers wiki page all of the demon clans can feed on blood however vampires are the only ones who gain nutrients from it. 

This makes them natural predators of humans, as a race you can't expect them to starve so being sent to humans only seem as natural as humans slaughtering livestock. They are royal too, obviously, their blood supply would be of fine quality, so “pure blood” I'm assuming is healthy girls who don't eat junk food, haven’t smoked or drank or even touched drugs which is why a church is such a perfect cover. Also, I think the whole virgin thing doesn't play a part, it's probably an old wives’ vampire tale but knowing someone's dick hasn't been in your lunch probably makes it much more appetising.

Now, this under no circumstances means I'm defending the boys, I am looking at it from your average vampire’s viewpoint discarding human morality of well putting “an innocent lamb” for slaughter mentality.

But it's very apparent because both vampires and humans are intelligent creatures with free will. The silver line between a food source and an inferior race is very blurred. I will extend the difference on this another day but I'll focus on the actual church feeding system from what I've gathered; I just wanted to portray it from a different point of view for all those who rightly disagree with the sacrificial bride system.

Now don’t get me wrong if used correctly I think the sacrificial bride system is pretty great if you tweak some areas if you have a voluntary group of individuals who get paid to let the boys feed from them with full knowledge and consent of what’s going on as well as full insurance on their safety it is far more practical then no feeding system at all. What makes this feeding system even better is that it’s backed by both the vampire nobility and human hunters. Both are sides that have been at war for who knows how long and have had tremendous impacts on both sides, whether they be socio-political, or financial and physical.

See how on paper this looks like the perfect theoretical solution, but the show hints to us that there’s a lot more corruption involved.

I didn’t plan for this to become headcanons but here we go I guess:

I'm assuming Yui is not the only church girl who is kept unaware of the vampire's existence but one of the only girls who hold any relation to a vampire hunter probably plot armour.

Vampires and humans dislike each other. This is not new, they've probably been at war for centuries and whilst humans are extremely adaptable but the only reason they could reach a truce with the vampires is probably that they became a nuisance to the vampires and this would be the lesser of two evils for the church.

The funding comes from the vampires, each hunter gets as much money as the girls they send, and the girls that are sent must be of the highest quality.

Docile, sweet, easy on the eyes and most importantly with good-tasting blood.

However the war is over, and there are truces and pacts. The original hunters are replaced and hand their titles down to their eldest son and the training to prepare continues, but traditions and principles become lax, and discipline is lost.

 Nepotism and corruption don’t take long to consume the system, the men bid the girls in between themselves selecting which church sends the most girls for funding.

Many smaller factions soon join under the powerful ones, you would think the church that doesn't sell as many girls would be happier no?

No.

The funding is taken away and the church is forced to give up and sell its girls to the bigger factions.

The girls are monitored closely, indoctrinates with weak morals, and made as vulnerable and trusting as possible, the not as pretty girls are given into the red light streets for spare change, and some are promoted to nuns only to take care of the new batch of girls or giving birth to them.

And the rest is history, the cycle continues. the vampires long predicted this as human nature repeats itself often.

[p-antomime]

Only S. knows.

— minors don’t interact. | wc: 7,2K.

content + warnings: 18+, including: faux sympath dom!wakasa, breath play, dub-con, orgasm control/denial, degradation, worship & praise, like two slaps, unprotected sex, obssession, breeding kink, jealousy, dumbification, manhandle, nipple play, implied stalking, mention of corruption kink, names calling, oral sex, biting, marking, possessiveness, mention of exhibitionism, mention of pervy!wakasa.

pairings: yandere!wakasa imaushi x fem!reader.

request.

a/n: in one part of this one-shot, there is narration from wakasa's point of view and then it goes back to the reader's point of view, so be careful not to be misled by his thoughts as the story goes along.

He seemed strangely less serious than on other days, more relaxed. But, today, Wakasa didn't even accompany you all the way to the university and you had grown accustomed to his company, especially since there was a part of the morning when you had to pass through some stations where the train cars predominantly had more men than women and it was suffocating to have to curl up against one of the doors without Wakasa's presence there to give you some sense of safety and security.

But you knew that he would be absent, he had warned you the day before through a text message, so you woke up a earlier to catch the subway minutes earlier and not have to go through those cars at specific times.

When you arrived at the university, the first person you looked for around campus was just him, however, the first to be found was your brother who left home every day even earlier than you since he had a college internship to fulfill.

He knew that you were looking for Imaushi and simply shrugged shoulders for not knowing where he was and you frowned.

— What d'you mean you don't know? — Y/N asked, raising one eyebrow.

— Not knowing, tsk. What d'you think I am? Waka's mother? — He replied with a smile. — He's always on time, don't worry, didn't he tell you he had an appointment today?

You ran your tongue over the lips before nervously pressing the fabric of your blazer and waving your hand in greeting to a few people from the fashion and design majors who passed by you and your older brother.

— He did. — You answered. — But... — He interrupted you by getting up from the white bench on the campus and crossing arms over his chest.

— But you thought he'd be here by the time you arrived, didn't you? — You felt cheeks heat up with embarrassment and looked away from his face with the excuse that you had seen someone waving at you in greeting from across the campus walkway. — Oh, yeah, you thought so. What 's it with you two, hm? — Your brother opened a cocky smile as he uncrossed arms and nudged one of yours and you immediately took a few uncomfortable steps back.

It was one thing to talk about boys and love interests with your friends, who usually gave you not very effective but welcome advice. It was another one to talk specifically about Wakasa Imaushi to your older brother, who is even his best friend.

You weren't specifically embarrassed that your brother wanted to extract amorous information from you, even Wakasa already knew of your interest in him and was trying to match it as best he could, since he felt strangely obsessed with you from the first moment he laid eyes on his best friend's little sister when he had unassumingly gone to your family's house one weekend to finish a college assignment there.

In reality, you had known practically all of your brother's friends by first and last name for a long time, since he was only a year older than you and constantly filled the family home with them, but the only one you had ever spoken to before Wakasa had been Shinichiro Sano.

Your parents particularly preferred you to stay away from your brother's friends, they said they "knew what boys that age wanted" and after your age passed 18, they replaced "boys" with "men”.

In your mind, all your brother's friends, with the exception of Shinichiro, were people of reasonably questionable character. You thought this until you unwittingly bumped into Imaushi in the hallway at home with your absent parents shopping and spilled some juice on his shirt.

Initially, in that situation you obviously thought it was your older brother, he was the only man in the house except for your father. You didn't even know that he had called a friend over to finish a college assignment there and your first reaction was to immediately clamp hands on his shirt to try to clean it up because you knew that your brother was more than annoyed when his little sister "made a kiddo's mess".

Until your head stood up and eyes saw lilac orbs that were unknown until then, you were embarrassed and almost knocked the rest of the juice on the floor and Wakasa immediately took the glass from your hand and helped you not to lose your balance.

It was an embarrassing situation, especially because right afterwards you tried to formulate several excuses about his shirt and the only thing Imaushi did was stare at you with a gentle smile on his lips. "He's not mad at me?", your mind thought and then you began to think that maybe, just maybe your older brother's friends didn't have such questionable natures.

Oh, but Wakasa had. He was just very good at hiding it. As soon as he laid eyes on you in that hallway, it was as if something clicked inside his brain and his orbs were staring at you at that moment not because he thought you were an idiot, but because he was studying your features and memorizing them.

You were almost a living Renaissance painting. How could someone as angelic, memorable, heavenly as you be the blood sister of a guy like your brother?

Afterwards, Wakasa said he wouldn't say anything to your brother so you wouldn't get in trouble if you didn't say anything either, and it became just a naive and innocent secret between the two of you. It just wasn't expected that the next topic of conversation between him and your older brother would be just you.

"I didn't know your sis was home."

"Did she bother you?"

"No, we just bumped into each other in the hallway, she’s..."

"Ew, don't talk about my sister like that, bro. I don't wanna hear that kind of stuff about her, I literally watched her grow up, you idiot. Get the pen for me over there, please, I need to finish these topics here."

"The pen here. And I wasn't even gonna say anything too much! I was just gonna say she's cute, that's all" and then your older brother looked with squinty eyes at Wakasa because he knew what kind of friends he had.

"Don't try to hit on her, I’m dead serious."

"I don't like younger girls, y'know...", oh, he did. Even if it was you literally only a year younger.

"I don't know anything, now, go finish your part of the project."

And Wakasa couldn't concentrate on that because he was too busy going over your features in his mind. The way your eyes couldn't focus on his out of shame and at the same time had an appealingly innocent look as if you wanted to get away with a petty crime, the way your shoulders were tense as if someone was going to catch the two of you in the act, the way your lips were ajar whispering falteringly "I am...", "I'm sorry".

He was even a little disappointed when it was time to leave and unfortunately you didn't end up bumping into him and your brother in the hallway because for the rest of the day you locked yourself in your shy lair that was your room.

But his disappointment was drastically reduced when he came out of your house saying goodbye to your older brother and his eyes rose up to see one of the windows of the residence, which in this case was your bedroom window and saw you standing there and inevitably stopping to close the curtains before facing him and giving yourself courage enough to gesture to his shirt and say a muted "I'm sorry", to which Imaushi responded with a nonchalant wink and a slight sideways smile watching you look away in embarrassment and finish closing the curtains.

It was the first time you felt your heart palpitate wildly inside your chest for something as seemingly silly as a wink from a man.

— We're friends, obviously. — You answered with a shrug, still not looking at your brother.

— You both are good friends, as far as I can tell. — He raised eyebrows.

— What d'you mean? — You projected your best misunderstood and innocent look and he rolled his eyes.

— Y'know what I mean, your lil' angel act only works for others, not for me. — It was your turn to roll eyes. — C'mon, I'm your older bro, I wanna what's going on with the kid in the house.

— I'm literally over 18, neither you nor I are children anymore, for God's sake...

— I know, Y/N, I know, y'know what I mean. I just don't want you to get hurt later, Waka is kind of... hmm, complicated. — You raised one eyebrow at him and instantly, from the guilty look on his face, your mind knew something was wrong.

— What d'you mean? — Your brother took a deep breath and reached into his pocket for the cell phone.

You watched him open Instagram and as your attention fell on the virtual profile of a girl who literally seemed to be the personification of the word "bold".

She was alternative, with a gothic personal style, piercings in her lower lip, nose and ears. She looked beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, but more than that: she seemed sure of herself enough to, for example, flirt with anyone and probably get that person for herself without much effort.

Forgetting that the cell phone was your brother's, you took it between hands and started scrolling through the photo feed distractedly before you heard a huff from your familiar and raised your eyes.

— Who is she?

— Pretty, huh? — Your brother took the cell phone from your hands and blocked the screen. — Guess who that is.

— Spit it out. — Your arms crossed over your breasts nervously.

— It's Waka's ex-girlfriend.

Your eyes locked on your brother's and although you tried to keep an inexpressive countenance, as if you were digesting the information, your jaw locked as if something inherent in your soul was being kicked. And after taking another deep breath, your brother began to speak again:

— I met her when they were still together, it's been a while since they broke up, she was pretty cool to be honest. — You bit the inside of one of your cheeks, not knowing if he was saying this to prepare you for something worse or just making fun of you.

— When I met him, were they still together?

— Nah! — Your brother said in a short reply. — But, about two weeks ago they were talking on the phone and I think he...

You knew what he was going to say, you knew and didn't want to hear it.

— Don't talk. Don't you dare speak. — Y/N interrupted him before turning around and looking at her brother over one shoulder. — I don't care... and I still have class today, so... — You shrugged before starting to walk. — See ya at home later.

You could hear the shards of your heart rattling in the head as you walked.

It was the first day since you began studying at that university that you didn't greet every single person who crossed your path in the morning until you reached your first classroom.

Even though the day was sunny, inevitably your sun was cloudy.

You didn't even raise the gaze to Mitsuya and Emma in the hallway, and the two of them were the closest of friends you had there. And it was great that Wakasa wasn't there in the morning because he spent so much time with you that it was almost impossible to say that he didn't know you better than you knew yourself and would want to squeeze what was bothering you out.

"Everything okay?", you read Emma's message that sent you in the middle of class through the notification bar and looked over to see her on the other side of the auditorium and opened a smile before shaking the head positively.

You were still the angel of the college, still untouchable to most of your various admirers who liked the idea of purity that you conveyed; and angels don't convey negative feelings.

So the best thing your mind projected was a fixed smile to give to everyone who asked "are you as good as ever?" or said "oh, Y/N, you look beautiful today".

No compliment seemed good enough if it didn't come out of Wakasa Imaushi's mouth, but you didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to carry the responsibility of being the person who stopped him from having a relationship, didn't want to stop him from getting back together with his ex-girlfriend even though you were madly in love with him, even though you wanted to be selfish enough to keep him for yourself.

Because of this, when you watched him walk across the college restaurant toward you, your first instinct was to turn around and pick up the plate and the can of juice to put them on the food disposal counter to leave the place, even though there was still a good amount of food left there. And Wakasa looked at you confused to have you turn your back on him, he hoped you were anxious to see him.

Still, he followed you and inevitably you found yourself almost running down the university corridors, but Imaushi eventually caught up with you and hooked one of his hands in your blazer to pull you back and eventually managed to corner you against one of the walls of the corridors that were now somewhat less crowded than in the morning because practically everyone was busy eating lunch.

However, the people who had observed Wakasa's actions with you and were passing by looked at you closely as if they were ready to punch him in the nose if he acted too suspiciously or too aggressively.

After all, you were the renaissance jewel of the university, everyone knew and liked you.

— What the fuck 're you doing? — He spoke angrily, placing both hands flat against the wall behind you and looking you up and down with his breathing almost as ragged as your own from literally following you all over campus.

— What are you doing?! — You returned the question, looking at him as if you didn't know what he meant. — Y'know that I still have classes on the afternoon schedule!

— Yes, I know, but your classes are not during lunch. — Wakasa answered, frowning and looking you straight in the eye, inevitably his irritation faded away as soon as he found himself facing the girl he loved in a way too dangerous to be healthy. — Anyway... you look beautiful today, how was your day? I missed you, oh, and also! — He reached into one of his back pockets and pulled out a small velvety box, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. — Remember those earrings you liked from that store in the mall when we went to the movies last week? I went there to buy 'em for you this morning.

Wakasa lifted the box toward you and looked at you anxiously.

Oh, so that's why he was absent in the morning.

And how could he be so impudent as to give a gift to one girl when he was interested in another?, you thought.

You looked from Imaushi's face to the little box and something stirred inside you, you didn't know if it was your heart starting to beat fast or if it was the feeling of hurt coming back over you.

— Thank you. — Y/N spoke with hands nervously clutching at the fabric of the skirt of the uniform she was wearing. — But, you didn't need to do it, really. I didn't even... want it that badly. — You looked away without the courage to face him as you refused a gift for the first time. — That's very sweet of you and I appreciate it, but I can't accept.

— What...? — Wakasa frowned, not quite believing what he was hearing. Was he interpreting yours words wrong? — It is a gift like all the others I have given you, princess.

And seeing you continue without looking at him, his heart sank into his chest and inevitably he leaned toward you the way he did every time he was going to steal a kiss from you and, unlike the other times, you continued with a downturned face, shrugged your shoulders and assumed a somewhat annoyed countenance.

— Did something happen this morning? — You rested hands on his chest and denied it with your head.

— I'm just tired, my neighbor didn't stop making noise during the night and I couldn't sleep properly, that's all. — Even though you weren't as strong as Wakasa, you pushed him away and he inevitably let you do it. — Talk to ya later, I have some things for a seminar next week to finish.

All he did was watch you move further and further away and eventually disappear from sight as you took a corridor to the left. But the "after" you quoted to Imaushi never came, and he filled your notification bar with messages asking how you were doing, if everything was okay, if you needed help with something from some curriculum unit in the college, if you wanted to see a movie on the weekend with him.

During the night, you sank into studying a lot of material that you already understood very well and just wanted to be able to distract yourself, even though you could still hear the low ringing of your cell phone evidencing the new messages arriving minutes after the last ones. The only response Wakasa received that day was an "I'm OK, no worries" and a pink heart emoji.

The next day he went to your house wanting to go to college with you by subway the same way as always and, already in front of the residence, was confused to see Emma ringing the doorbell and when he asked her what she was doing there, your friend answered that you wanted to go to college with her and it took all the self-control present in Wakasa's twisted mind not to break the doorbell from pressing it so hard.

When you appeared at the door with your older brother behind you, he and Waka looked at each other and when you said a "Morning!” lightly excited, his stress drained away completely and he opened a bewildered smile.

However, Emma didn't let him steal her place from your chaperone and soon the two of you alone were on the subway while Wakasa and your older brother had taken another route.

Now, he didn't know your location 70% of the time, except for the times he watched you around campus.

He even went to your place on Friday because your brother wanted to make a special dinner as a kind of reunion with his friends that he hadn't seen in a long time because of his busy time at the university and during most of the dinner, you could smell Imaushi's jealousy and stress seeing you interacting so amicably with other men who were not him and not part of your family.

Treating everybody so well, so cordially. But every time you look at me, it's clear how emotionally distant you are. Your smile is projected and rehearsed, I know when you are really smiling because I have memorized every inch of your face and body.

My eyes went from the food to your face that was busy smiling at Shinichiro and my fingers drummed against the fork in my hand.

Unlike everyone else sitting at the table, my food was still untouched. Watching you was more interesting.

What was going on in your head? Why do you barely look at me? I want you to look at me. I want you to look only at me.

You hardly seemed bothered by my staring at you the way you did when we first met, so you probably got used to me, didn't you? Great, that's just what I wanted anyway, at least that I can't complain about.

Everyone in the dining room is obviously looking at Y/N, who else would they look at? She is the biggest star here, always will be, she lights up the room wherever she goes and that is why I love her so much it hurts. Everyone stops to listen to what she says because she knows what to say and when and how to say it. She is so perfect that in the beginning it annoyed me a little, especially because she looked like a glass doll that would break if I squeezed too hard, if my fingers went too far into her body. That's why at first I was content to give her little finger rubs on arms, shoulders, hair, oh, and how soft her hair was. They were little premeditated actions to make you wonder "what does that mean exactly?", to sharpen you to come towards me asking for more of whatever I could give you.

But now?

You barely seem to want my presence and only Satan knows how much I wanted to grab you against the table and fuck you in the middle of all these guys to let them know that you are mine, that you always will be and letting you go is not an option. It never was one.

The way you're running your tongue along the edge of the glass, you're teasing me, aren't you? We both know you are. In the end, you know how to mask the dirty whore that only I know you can be over the face of such a lovely girl. That's why all the other men like you, they want to find out if deep down you are this angel you appear to be and if you are, they'll want to corrupt you until there's nothing left and then abandon you.

But me? No. I want you exactly as you are, in all your areas and facets.

And then her fingers brushed against Shinichiro's arm, and immediately dug into his skin in a caress. My jaw instantly locked and hand closed around the fork I should have been using to eat. No fucking way. You're not doing what I think you're doing, are you? No, you are, yes. Attetion-seeker slut.

— Bro? — You looked up at Wakasa calling out to your brother with a index finger and an amused smile on lips. — What d'you think about me sleeping here tonight? So we can finish that project for next Thursday faster and I don't have to come here again on Tuesday.

Then Shinichiro said something again that you weren't even really paying attention to from the beginning and your face turned to him while your ears were attentive to the unfolding conversation between your older brother and Imaushi.

In the end, it was agreed that Wakasa would actually sleep there even though your brother didn't remember which project he was referring to and you weren't brave enough to complain in the middle of so many people.

So maybe you had better hurry as soon as possible to run to your room and lock the door after dinner was over, your almost-boyfriend's dark stare did not mask the warm smiles he opened.

As soon as your brother commented that it was getting late and everyone got up, before you opened the mouth to comment that you were tired and were going to take a shower to go to bed, Imaushi held your arm and spoke loudly to stop you from refusing.

— Why don't you help me carry everything to the kitchen while your brother takes everyone to the door?

— I-I'm a lil' tired, Wakasa... — You tried to shake off his grip on your arm.

— Oh, c'mon, princess. It won't hurt a bit to help me. — But his grip on your arm was already hurting and you just nodded silently as your brother and the other men walked away and the two of you began to collect cutlery, glasses and plates and take them to the kitchen.

— Is that all? — You asked, swallowing hard because Wakasa hadn't said anything during the minutes you two spent alone in the kitchen.

When he turned to look at you and eventually started walking toward you with a serious look on his face, your feet started walking awkwardly backwards and you felt like an idiot as you noticed the cold kitchen wall slamming against your back as that man with the two-color hair continued to approach and inevitably pinned you between him and the wall with flattened hands on either side of your head.

— Even though you've been acting like a bitch all week, I still feel a lil' merciful towards you.

Wakasa ran his hand up your body, fingertips brushing against every inch of uncovered skin on yours arms and then clamped it at the base of your neck without actually squeezing it.

— So, I'm gonna give you about twenty seconds to explain why you suddenly started acting like I was a fucking nothing to you before I rail you against this wall and let your brother watch. No games, Y/N, I know ya. The twenty seconds start now. — You clamped hands on his wrist and felt your breathing quicken as you continued to stare him in the eyes.

— W-What? Wakasa! — You tried to push him away and then his fingers on your neck tightened a little more. — Damn it, s-top! I can't... breathe right, stop! — You tried to ask him by squeezing his wrist and as you saw him start to count down from 13, a sense of desperation overcame you. — Fine! Stop! Please... Someone told me about your ex! I-I... I don't know, fuck, I already told you why! Lemme go! — And then his fingers loosened around your neck and Wakasa looked at you with confusion.

— My... ex? — He raised one of his eyebrows and taking advantage of Imaushi's moment of vacillation, you pushed him back as you heard heavy footsteps against the floor of the house and immediately rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to go to the bedroom without bothering to close the door as you headed for the bathroom built into the room and locked it.

You heard some voices downstairs and took longer than you should to shower and get dressed, the fear was opening the bathroom door to go to your bed and finding Wakasa waiting for you there.

Your mind only remembered the bedroom door being open when you were finishing covering your body with the terry cloth robe, so much so that before going to put on pajamas your first action was to open the entrance slightly to see if he was waiting for you on the other side and when you saw that he wasn't, your feet walked outside and you went to lock the door before getting dressed and then going to bed wanting to try to sleep as fast as possible.

When it was almost midnight, you heard three knocks on the door and a shiver ran down your back, especially since it had been almost twenty minutes since any noise had come from your older brother's room and you assumed that he and Wakasa had already gone to sleep.

But as soon as you asked who it was at the door and heard your older brother's voice coming through, the idea that they had already gone to sleep was completely wrong, and you opened it to let him in.

— What?

— I just wanted to say goodnight anyway, you've been cooped up in this room for almost three hours, for God's sake! — Your brother opened his arms toward you and you knew he wanted a hug, when you leaned your head on his shoulder, your eyes watched as Wakasa leaned against the doorframe and your cheeks heated up. — Sleep well, ‘kay?

— I'll try... — You replied watching your brother walk away with a cute smile and for the first time since you were nine years old and afraid of the dark you wanted him to stay in your room and sleep with you saying that he would protect you from the "monster under the bed”. — Good night, big bro. — You forced a smil watching him walk by Wakasa's side of the door. — And good night too, Wakasa.

— I'll be right there, 'kay? — Wakasa spoke to your brother as he received a squeeze on the shoulder and your big bro nodded positively before walking away.

He wouldn't have the courage and audacity to do something with your brother awake in the next room, right?

Wakasa walked into the room without taking his eyes off you standing in front of the bed and locked the door slowly, quietly.

— We have a few things to tidy up, don't we? — Wakasa asked with a sideways smile before walking toward you and you immediately put arms in front of your body to push him away, even though he eventually pushed them out of his way and made you fall onto the bed mattress before he stood over you. — Dumb mutt, did you really think I wouldn't have the guts to fuck you with your brother in the next room? — A small chuckle escaped his lips and he denied it with his head, bringing one hand up to your hair to play with it. — Who told you what about my ex, hm?

— Wakasa, stop. I'm serious. — You said, leaning up on elbows and immediately trying not to let the smell of the cologne he always wore invade your nostrils, it was so good, so intoxicating like him, you suddenly wanted to sink your nose against his neck. — We can talk t-tomorrow about it and... — Imaushi leaned over so that his face was inches from yours.

— Tomorrow? — A twisted smile appeared on his lips. — Tomorrow you won't even be able to walk properly, much less talk properly. — And then his mouth covered yours in a deep and intense kiss.

At first you didn't want to reciprocate, but then Wakasa bit your lower lip as his hands reached into your pajama shirt and groped hard your tits, making you gasp and moan against his mouth.

It didn't take more than seconds for him to completely dominate your mouth and to be spreading your legs with one knee to press against your covered pussy.

You wanted to tell him to stop, wanted to say you didn't want to have him touch you, but his fingers squeezing, caressing and pulling at your nipples and tongue curling into yours were making any thought instantly disappear and when Imaushi broke the kiss to look at you with eyes darker than before, the sight of you with mouth open, breathing heavily and a trickle of saliva that he didn't know if it was his or yours dripping down your chin gave him a boner that was beginning to ache in his pants.

— I don't want any fucking exes of mine, you dumb girl. — Wakasa took one hand away from your tits to grab your chin and force you to look at him. — I want you, and only you, is that hard for you to understand? Fuck!

Then his mouth resumed its attack on yours in a kiss more fierce and brutal than the one before and your hands went up his back to sink fingers into his hair and pull his face further against yours.

— Show me it. — You whispered to him trying to regulate your breathing as best you could as his hands slid down your body until they reached your thighs to squeeze them and pull your shorts down.

Wakasa grunted against your lips and soon went to hook his mouth on your neck leaving strong bites and sucks there. The intention was to mark as much of your body as possible, as if he needed to know that you had some visible, exposed mark that indicated that you were completely his.

When you let out a particularly louder moan in the shape of his name, his hand came down against your thigh in a light slap in an early warning to be quiet.

— Shut the fuck up, princess. — Wakasa whispered, removing your panties and looking at you briefly before pushing that garment soaked between your lips. — I know you love to moan like a slut in heat, but have you forgotten that the only thing that separates us from your brother is a wall? — He kept talking as he pulled your body up so that his face was at the height of your pussy and you denied it with your head. — If he caught us, I bet he'd be so pissed at you, he doesn't even know that I took your virginity, does he?

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and you looked away as Imaushi opened yours folds before leaning down and literally inhaling the good smell coming from there; damn, how he had missed tasting you on the tip of his tongue, eating you out.

He gave a few kitty licks against you and you bit down hard on the fabric of the panties to suppress all your moans as your hands pulled his hair.

When he was between your legs, Wakasa literally became a pervert. Licking and sucking every part of your pussy, enjoying your single taste against his tongue, almost tongue-fucking you, drinking everything you wanted to pour against his mouth. Everything for Wakasa revolved around the goal of turning you into a drooling mess and reminding you that he could easily make you braindead with pleasure with just a few licks.

Just as your thighs started to jerk too much and hips started to try to force themselves against his face, one of his hands was flat against your belly applying pressure and holding you in place and the other was busy lightly slapping one of your thighs.

Your body seemed strangely less resistant to the pleasure being given and the tension deep in your belly seemed more and more latent. It was impossible to try to control the spasms coursing through your back and shoulders when you were this close to cumming.

And you knew that Wakasa wouldn't let you orgasm that easily, he still seemed irritated even though he appeared to be giving you pleasure without expecting anything in return. Appeared.

Even so, you still tried to force yourself against his face and, as a result, received a rather painful slap on your leaking pussy as his mouth moved away from your cunt and his eyes looked at you smugly before rubbing your clit between two fingers only to watch you produce more of your clear liquid without being able to actually cum.

— So stupid. — Wakasa whispered licking lips to finish wiping them clean, getting on top of your body again and beginning to slowly remove his own clothes, only to watch you squirm in anticipation and frustration. — Oh, poor baby. — He spoke with faux sympathy before letting out a soft laugh. — Wanna cum? Then make yourself cum.

His hands kept busy removing the garments and you felt your eyes water at his commanding words, but soon hips were shamelessly rubbing against one of Imaushi's thighs and he had you so very, very close to your first orgasm that just the friction between the fabric of his pants and your sensitive cunt was enough to make you cum.

Even your panties were unable to muffle your loud moans, so they were replaced by Imaushi's fingers, which made you choke around them. You promptly started sucking on them as soon as your body could pay attention to anything other than your recent orgasm and when your vision returned to normal, you could see an evil smile on Wakasa's lips.

— Poor lil' thing, you missed me so much that you were even able to use my thigh to get off? And you even ended up cumming without permission, tsk, dumb baby.

He pushed you back onto the bed to finish removing the clothes from his lower body without removing the fingers from inside your mouth.

— Suck on 'em, even bite 'em if you want. — Wakasa said referring to the digits between your saliva licked lips as he leaned over and pulled your waist to stand against his thighs with his cock residing between your folds. — I'm gonna make it hurt 'til you regret letting me use ya. — He whispered before thrusting hard into you, trying hard to keep himself from moaning too loudly and keeping you still with his other hand on your waist.

Honestly, Imaushi's plaything of wanting to regulate the sounds coming from your room fell apart as soon as his body started pounding against yours in a mind-blowing rhythm that made you roll your eyes because of the pain mixed with pleasure of just cumming and immediately having your walls stretched.

The headboard of your bed was banging repeatedly against the wall and you couldn't care less.

Wakasa was literally using your body as if you were his personal fuck doll, but ironically in his eyes you could almost see hearts drawn in the pupils. His eyes glowed with obsessive love and affection.

You tried to moan, to speak "so good" and ask "please" for him to let you cum again, you needed it so badly. The precise way you could feel every vein of his against your walls, every time his cock contracted.

The pain in your hips from his bestial rhythm took a while to appear because your senses were completely clouded by pleasure. Everything in your mind resounded with Wakasa Imaushi's name. The heavy breaths of the two of you synchronized with the sound of skin hitting skin.

And it was a heavenly feeling to again feel Wakasa filling your insides with his hot cum, now, yes, it was impossible for him not to moan your name a little louder than he should.

The way your walls squeezed his shaft to drain every last drop of his cream was so insane that he almost, almost, had the reckless urge to keep fucking you until he came again, but your body was so tired, almost going to the edge of unconsciousness that if any other sudden movement was made with or against you your mind might actually leave the physical plane and you wouldn't wake up until tomorrow morning with a sore hip.

You even wanted to orgasm again, almost needed it, but there was no chance your psyche would continue to work that day. So Imaushi pulled out of your pussy slowly, enjoying the feeling of still having you squeezing him, and watched it leaks with his liquid.

— Mhm, love you so, so much, babe. — Wakasa whispered, leaning down and kissing your cheek before wrapping arms around your body and brushing lips against your ear. — What you wanna do? Take a shower? Sleep? I can cook something for you. — He wrapped his arms around you and kissed you.

— Hugs... — You spoke slurred, your eyes opening and closing repeatedly and Wakasa nodded positively. — A-And shower... please, I need...

After the shower, you didn't last much longer awake, although Imaushi wanted to prolong the aftercare session as much as possible because it was the least you deserved. You were knocked out by fatigue and Wakasa watched you sleep attentively, running his fingers over your cheeks affectionately before remembering that he needed to text his ex-girlfriend about a sudden idea he had that day earlier

In the morning, after you two had slept through the night together in your bed, Wakasa immediately went to make breakfast without looking or talking to your brother because from the suggestive glances they exchanged in the kitchen it was obvious that the other man in the house had been listening more than he should have been.

For that day you both stayed at home without bothering to go out much because, truth be told, you really could barely walk, preferring to spend the whole afternoon in Imaushi's arms on the living room couch while your brother was away with Shinichiro.

But the next day, the two of you ended up going out together to go to a coffee shop and this time Wakasa gave you the little box of earrings he had bought earlier without being turned down. It was important to him to have you accept his gifts.

When you sat down facing each other and your two orders were being taken, you almost couldn't believe your eyes.

— That is... — Wakasa looked from you to her and opened an amused smile.

— Oh, is that your girl? — Wakasa's ex-girlfriend spoke up and you suddenly felt embarrassed and a little uncomfortable to see her in person, she looked even prettier, like a character out of a cartoon. — How cute. — Honestly, you didn't know if she was making fun of you or not.

— Isn't she pretty? I know. — Imaushi shrugged, gesturing to the third chair at the table for her to sit down.

— H-Hi...? — You looked from her to Wakasa with raised eyebrows.

— I called her over so we could finish settling a few things between us. — Wakasa answered.

— "Us?" — You questioned, not having much courage to continue looking at the goth girl next to you, how could anyone be that good looking both in person and in pictures?

— You and me, obviously. — Imaushi shrugged. — Tell her. — He looked at his ex-girlfriend.

— Waka told me that you were jealous of me with him, but, girl, I swear... — She leaned across the table to face you, her fingers brushing against one of your arms to get your attention. — I'd rather date you than him. — And then your cheeks heated up with embarrassment and you choked on your own saliva.

— What?! No way?! — You looked at her with mouth forming into a small "O" and one of Wakasa's hands stroked one of your knees under the table. — So... like you two, y'know... — Your hands gestured.

— I know, right? I'm too pretty for him. — She smiled when you giggled lightly and Imaushi stared at both of you with narrowed eyes.

— Your mood has declined a bit since we last saw each other. — He commented in a playful tone.

— At least your taste in women hasn't followed the same path as my mood. — And again yours cheeks heated up. — You're such a cutie, Y/N, he talks about you a lot to everyone, can I... — And Wakasa interrupted her with a head denial.

— Don't finish that sentence, I know what you were going to say.

[thehoundwrites]

I've got you, Darling

Request here

Prompt: Grayson x Fem!Reader (I made her from Zaun)

CW: Angsty, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma mentions, Death mention, Blood mention.

Word count: 1403

You didn't have nights like this often anymore, being held in the arms of such a capable women made you feel so safe. Protected from the world that threw everything it could at you in hopes that you'd break. And you have. So many times. Growing up in the undercity was terrifying, crime, blood, death, grief and pain. Those things were too familiar to you. It held you by the throat sometimes and wouldn't let go until you curled into a ball of fury and fear hidden in the depths of the darkest parts of your room. Your doors locked, windows covered, you got paranoid and scared and you were suffering like most of the others who lived in Zaun.

But now it was different, fear like that had been a distant nightmare from your past that still made its return every now and again. Now you were dating a beautiful and strong, enforcer who promised you the safety and comfort that you've wanted all your life. She treated you right. She made you feel loved and happy. You had hope for a future now. Grayson always tries to be protective and supportive of you, since all she wants is for you to be happy. For her to be able to make you happy.

You trusted your partner, the two of you had spent long nights talking and sipping champaign. She made dinner every chance she got, wanting to take care of you. You went on romantic dates, have even been invited to visit the Kirammans, and to attend other classy Piltovian parties.

But there are nights like tonight where she'd have to stay late whether it be due to paperwork or another late-night criminal offense. Leaving you sleeping on her bed, curled up with her pillows and blankets, although you always tried to stay awake to greet her when she returned wanting to reciprocate her love and appreciatiation. But sometimes you just couldnt fight off your drowsiness.

Nights like these made everything creep back into your mind. Cold, dark and anxiety ridden. You went to bed alone, the loneliness making everything seem so much more dark than usual. You often stayed up worrying over her like this, after all her job was dangerous and you hated the thought of her getting hurt. Or worse.

The anxiety was scratching at the corners of your thoughts, chasing all the good you've done, away as you fell asleep. You held an bundled blanket in your arms wanting something to feel close. But all of your worries about Grayson still seeped into your dreams. Her getting hurt, failing miserably in the fight against Zaun, against corruption, against evil.

Your eyes shot open, you could feel your heart racing, burning tears streaming from the corner of your eyes. Your breaths were ragged, your chest feeling hollow struggling to find an even rhythm again. Your body felt cold underneath the thick blankets, yet your face was wet with sweat your arms shaking a little since you were so scared and anxious. Yet you were quiet, freaking out as silently as possibly like you've done all your life. Your pain is your greatest weakness. Weakness was the enemy of strong. And how you've had to be strong.

You felt Grayson stir, she was a light sleeper, many years in her field made her hypersensitive and aware of her surroundings. Especially now that a women whom she loved dearly stayed with her at night, she worried that being so open with you made you a prime target.

One of Graysons thick arms was draped over you, her hand on the curve of your waist, she moved the palm of her hand, sliding up your side reaching your face. She stared at you in silence, both of you facing eachother on your sides. She let her larger hand rest on your cheek her thumb rubbing at the tears running down your cheek.

"I love you darling" Grayson said, her head was still a bit groggy from having just woken up. Her voice was deep and raspy but filled with concern that made tugged at your heartstrings making your heart ache.

You were relieved, your eyes widened, happy to see her there with you, but they were still filled with saddened and hopless emotions. The images from your nightmare flashing through your head as you looked into her adoring grey eyes, but you couldn't say those words back, you were lost in thought as you stared at her. Your arm moved towards her face, you brushed your thumb over the skin gently, gulped down, as hot tears were prickling at your eyes.

"Grayson" you whispered your voice was shaky and you couldn't keep, the intense eye contact anymore so you looked away. She breathed out sadly, letting her hand move to the back of your head, long fingers combing through your hair and pulled your face into the crook of her neck.

"Everything will be alright" she spoke calmly letting her lips press against the top of your head. She was no stranger to pain either, spending many of her former years controlling thoughts, what ifs, her anxiety, her fears and her nightmares like this and worse. To say the least. She took a deep breath her eyelids heavy as she looked down at you, her own eyes filled were glistening with sorrow.

She hummed letting the hand that was hidden beneath the pillow that the two of you were sharing reach your back, her thumb rubbing circles into your shoulder blades. "What was it beatiful?" She asked her lips grazing your head, your breaths were becoming more even, letting your tense muscles loosen and eventually go limp in her encompassing embrace. Her worn yet strengthened muscles were holding you against her body shutting away any thoughts but her. She felt warm against the skin of your bare arms, the rest of her body was basically radiating heat, it felt good. Safe. So you decided to tuck your head further into her, curving your back trying to get closer.

"You..... I mean-" you wanted to tell her, you wanted to speak. But your words faltered, and your voice cracked, and you didnt want to start sobbing again now that you'd finally gotten it under control. The hand that had been playing with your hair slid down your thin shirt, to your lower back, her palm flat against you and pulled you closer into her body, wrapping that arm around you and tucking her fingers between your other side and the mattress.

"Its okay. I've got you, darling."

Grayson was always so understanding. Empathetic. She knew personally what pain felt like that, coming to you with her own mistakes, her own past. Trusting you, showing vulnerability. That helped remind you, pain isn't weakness to her.

"You got hurt" your breath was hot against the skin of her neck, your body was clammy, your lips brushing against her, making her gulp at your words. The two of you sat in heavy silence for a moment before she responded.

"I'm so sorry, my love" Grayson didn't really know what to say, did it really upset you that much that she could get hurt? You seemed terrified at just the thought. You nodded weakly, gulping in fear that you had upset her. "I'm sorry I didn't mea-" you tried to talk, but were interrupted, two fingers lifted your chin so that she could look at you.

"Its alright darling." Grayson breathed her lips kissing your forehead painfully gentle, you had to shut your eyes your heart beat, was beating faster by the second. "I'm very worried about your safety when I'm away as well" she said her mouth not leaving your skin.

You were finally able unfurl wrapping your arm over her side, curling your arm upwards to reach the back of her neck holding her head as you moved your face upwards more then she had before, kissing the corner of her mouth ever so lovingly, then pressing your forehead against hers.

"I love you so much Grayson" you whimpered, your voice still tinged with emotion. In response to your words she gave you a small smile and pressed her lips against yours softly, only for a few seconds, before laying her head a couple inches further away so that she could look at your features as she spoke.

"I've love you too, darling" Grayson replied pulling you into her chest.