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here-to-read-and-write · 1 year

Note

Team 141 seeing female reader take off her shirt to train with her friend and seeing she has scars all over her body because she was tortured (burned, knife cuts, bullet wounds, whipped, ect) and reader having a visible pack (I don't care how many packs)

And the boys feeling sympathy for her but also blushing at her body ☻️🤭

You can decline if ya want I don't mind

Should I make Konïg, Las Vargas maybe even add Graves and Valeria versions?

TF 1-4-1: Ghost, Soap, John, Gaz.

don't forget to leave request!!! please!

warning: Torture, no details given. Horny men...little innocent reader, English isn't my first language, my writing!

It was a hot day, and luckily the team didn't have any mission. So they were chilling in the training ground.

It was intimating to see a group of tall and build men sitting and staring at the horizon. Weird too, isn't it? but not when you follow the line where their eyes were so focused on.

In the distance, you stood. Back straight up, as your friends chat with each other. You, on the other hand, were standing waiting for something.

From under the shade, they could see all your expressions, or rather the lack of them. At least, they could admire the stars in your eyes, your pouting plump lips.

It wasn't strange for the TF 1-4-1 to admire you from afar. It became a habit they picked. If you give them a chance they will worship the ground you walked on, not like they aren't already.

They just don't want to hide it anymore, but for now, it will do until you notice their efforts, then maybe things will be different, it all depends on you.

"First, it will be (Y/N) against (your friend's name)" Queu to a groan and a few complaints, while you emotionlessly walked pulling off your mask, and your t-shirt. Leaving yourself bare with only a sports bra as a cover.

It caught the 1-4-1 off guard, especially Ghost, who noticed the ghost's hands, each one holding a breast.

Here comes the train of unholy thoughts.

It sends waves of arousal to warm their stomach and crawl up their spine, as they drank in your form. Each curve, each scares, every inch of you was been craved in their minds.

The men turn away shifting from one foot to another uncomfortably trying to ease the blood rushing down there if you know what I mean.

Some were rubbing their eyes and faces as if it was trying to get rid of the image of you standing there... In only a bra and military pants, but we both know that they were craving it in their mind for later. All for everyone to see, causing a fit of jealousy to bloom in their chest.

Damn you and your body. They thought. Fighting the strong urge to relieve themselves, which could be only done in the bedroom away from prying eyes.

Here comes another unholy thought.

Didn't you know the effect you had on them? Or maybe you know, either way, you really need to stop teasing, or punishment may be the only way for you to understand what you made feel.

They all groaned, for god's sake, they were grown-ass men, not some high school girls stalking their crush.

Fuck!

Why their pants are getting tight?

It was weird for you to show some skins, not like you didn't look great. You looked more than great, but after one horrifying mission, you stopped showing even your hands.

Ghost was present with you that day. He had to watch unable to do anything, as they torture you over and over again for days, and the scars on your body were proof of what you had been through. You screamed still hunting his mind, verytime he closed or opened his eyes.

He blamed himself every second of the day, because if he had listened to you and didn't leave you alone, you may have been able to fight the enemy together, and neither you nor him, would have been captured.

You ran a hand through your hair, before putting in a high ponytail. Getting in your position and the boys remarked how your eyes were closed. You didn't even open them when your friend was attacking you left and right. You avoided all attacks, without breaking a sweat. As if you sense his movement, your movements were smooth too. Much different form military training.

Price, unlike the others, was more interested in your abilities Why are you lying? he had read your files. All he could say that is he was impressed. He tried getting you on his team, unfortunately, you had taken two years off the military to heal from your last mission.

He had heard from Lasweel, that you looked like a mummy when the doctors were done. They say it was a miracle that you survived, sadly, the scars will be forever graved on your body, just the memories in your mind.

Now you were back, with a few rumours lit up like fire in the woods about you. They were all absurd of course, yet some seem to believe them, resulting in them avoiding you like the plague, but you didn't seem to mind. Actually, he had noticed how agitated you become when you share the same space as someone else.

You are always tensed and on guard, whenever someone was talking to you, the only person who you seemed to ease around was Soap, who the moment notice your packs accidentally when you were training together, was stuck like the glue to your side.

You never pushed him, you responded to every question he asked, like patient parents with their children, and somehow you were able to understand his weird choice of words, and even then you spoke few words, only listening and humming along the way.

That gave Gaz some courage, to try and talk to, and boy did he feel bad!

Gaz was one of the people who believed the absurd rumours. He found them to be real. You never tried to prove him wrong, until, he sat by your side, as you prepare something to eat.

Soap had practically dragged him, to meet his crush you. For a movie night. You didn't speak much, you just listen attentively to each word that comes out of Soap's mouth, and he could a crossed smile, even it was small each time Soap throw a joke, no matter how bad it was.

He watched you all night eyes only focusing on you. In his mind, he was watching waiting for one wrong move, while his heart was memorizing each part of, each move and the reason behind it. Maybe that's how he knew you well.

You didn't do anything that night that proves that you were the person in the rumours. You weren't arrogant, and even with the little emotion you had shown, he was able to conclude that you were a good person, just broken.

That's how you become close with Gaz, not like how you were with Soap but enough for you to salute him or pat his shoulder or head. Which always flustered him.

A few minutes into the fight with your friend and you already tackled them. You, on top of them, hand behind their back comfortable setting on their back.

They start wiggling under you, and for a moment 1-4-1 halted in their movement eyes intensely watching your breast bounce.

"Fuck" they cursed under their breath. They knew it will be better to leave, yet their body refused to obey their brain and move.

You turn to get your shirt and gear and leave when you saw 1-4-1 standing under the shade. You politely waved but none of them seems to notice you, from where you stood, you could see the tips of their ears red, some were hiding their faces between their arm supporting their weight with the metal bars in front of them.

You, being the innocent female lead, you titled your head, worried that the sun may be the cause of their redness.

You took the bottles before walking to them after it you offered them to them. They all took it gratefully before shrugging in down.

You escorted them back inside, as you watched them walking. You took notice of the awkwardness in the air, with a hint of ginger and peppermint. You knew what it was.

They were scent caused by sex pheromones, so why do they smell like that?

Oh, if only you knew!

#cod mw2 x you #cod x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x reader #soap x reader #soap x y/n #price x reader #price x y/n #john price x reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x y/n #xreader #variousxreader

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mirandasidefics · 4 months

Text

But Home is Nowhere- Pt2

Lucien x Plus Size F! Reader, Azriel x Plus Size F! Reader

Part 1

Part 2 Summary: Lucien and Rhysand argue over Reader's imprisonment, only one cell is traded for another. Lucien reaches out to an unlikely alley for support in getting Reader free.

A/N: I was too excited to wait the full month so here is part two a bit early! I apologize that this gets a bit dialogue heavy at the end. I may fix it later. This is going to be a long slow burn fic with a lot of angst. This will also have crossover with some of the Crescent City characters. It also probably goes without saying, but this will not follow canon past the events in HOSAB. Comment on this post if you want to be included on the tag list.

Content Warnings: Mentions of injuries, mentions of self harm, mentions of body issues/insecurities.

*******************************************************************

Seven days. Seven days he’d been arguing and advocating for her release with Rhysand. For seven days he listened to the same rehearsed list of excuses as to why Rhys wouldn’t budge in his decision.

“You and I both know that the gate to Velaris was sealed with blood magic. Only those whose blood is linked to the seal can pass through, which she shouldn’t have been able to do. On top of that we don’t know what world she came from. I’m not risking the lives of my family-my court, which includes you- on what equates to no more than a hunch.”

While the High Lord’s statements were reasonable and valid points, his insistence she remained confined in that dark and dank cell was not. Lucien hastily made his way down the main steps that lead into the catacombs, thoughts of his last spat with Rhysand swirling in his mind.

“Why do you care so much about what happens to this woman?” Rhys had questioned. Lucien had asked himself the same thing; but how could he say that it was less about her and more about what she represented? That when he saw her cowering form in the corner of that cell, images of Feyre, Elain, and Jesminda flashed through his mind. He had failed the two sisters. He had failed his first love. He would sooner have the Cauldron blast him from existence should he fail to protect another innocent female. He’d kept his composure standing in Rhysand’s office at the River House long enough. A simmering rage permeated the space as the raven-haired male stared him down. A silent challenge in the already tense atmosphere.

“How can you stand your own hypocrisy?” He seethed, “You sit there thinking of yourself so high and mighty, yet a simple human frightens you? You allowed Feyre into Velaris the second week she spent with you. You allowed Bryce into your home within minutes of her crashing into our world. Yet this human…this woman scares you so much you have her imprisoned in one of the most dangerous areas of your court?”

“ENOUGH!” Rhysand bellowed, his own violet orbs simmered with rage. Lucien felt his flames rise up and encircle his palms. Rhysand’s High Lord command held no sway so he continued.

“Are you that much of a coward that you could not have just asked her a few simple questions? You couldn’t have just looked into her-”

“I could not enter her mind!” Rhys’ breaths were ragged. “Something is protecting that mortal, and it is strong enough to keep me out. So long as those shields of hers remain impenetrable I cannot trust her. I must keep my mate and child safe.” Lucien scoffed, his fire dwindled. “Which is not something I can say I see you doing for your own.”

Lucien could still feel the cracking of bone and cartilage of Rhys’ nose as it connected with his fist. The argument surly would have resulted in them demolishing the entirety of the business wing had Azriel’s arrival not stopped the two males in their tracks. The Shadowsinger’s haggard appearance set them both on edge, but his words allowed Lucien to breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m done with this Rhys. I cannot keep hur- I cannot do this… she knows nothing.” The High Lord merely looked between the Emissary and the Spymaster. Expression relaxed and revealing nothing, even as blood dripped over his lips.

“Bring her up to the Moonstone Palace,” the commanded was towards his brother, “Since Lucien is so smitten with the woman he shall remain with her there for the time being.”

Lucien soon found himself outside of her cell. Only darkness and cold emanated from beyond the door. He paused his own breathing, wondering if she was even still alive. The last time he saw her, she hadn’t hesitated to slice open her own skin. Azriel wasn’t far behind and pushed past Lucien to enter the room. Lucien’s breath remained caught in his throat as he took in the mangled sight of her.

********************************************************************

You had no idea how long you’d been in the darkness of your cell. Hours had turned into days, but just how many days you weren’t sure. You had gone silent on what you assumed was the third day. You knew nothing of how you got there, and you had no idea where to begin when Azriel-who’s name you gathered early on-asked you about the world you came from. Its not like he would believe you if you said your world had no magic, at least not in the same way it was here. Then again, that was clearly an incorrect assumption on your part. And after everything that has transpired you determined that this was no dream. It was a nightmare come to life. You weren’t sure how much more your psyche could tolerate. Surely death would be better than the horrors that would plague your mind for years to come if you were allowed to live. You prayed silently to whatever deity would listen to let you die. You started as the metal hinges of the door screamed into the darkness.

“Mother above,” The horrified yet soft baritone drifted to your ears and you strained to open your eyes. You recognized the voice and Lucien’s warm body was immediately next to yours as you dangled from the ceiling. The male made quick work of the metal shackles holding your wrists high above your head, a bright light flooding the small space making you hiss. His large hand encircled your wrist and you could feel the skin repair itself. Lucien slowly lowered your arms down.

“Her name is (Y/N),” Azriel’s voice was barely above a whisper, as if he was ashamed of the space his normal speaking voice would take up in the small cell. As if what he said would break you further. Lucien held you up, warm hands around your rib cage holding you steady.

“(Y/N),” His testing of your name tentative, “(Y/N), my name is Lucien…I’m going to take you out of here.” His arms wrapped around you, and you could have sworn you felt your skin get warmer, the cold melting away like ice. His grip never lessened, which you were grateful for as you weren’t sure your legs could fully support your weight.

“Do you feel safe enough to come with me?” You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move your head in agreement. Couldn’t specify that you felt safe with him. You could only muster enough strength to cling to the front of his shirt, hoping it conveyed your trust towards him and him alone. Your eyes burned with tears. He shushed you as one of his hands rubbed up and down your spine. A footstep echoed in the chamber, and then you felt Azriel’s shadows attempt to wend their way over your bare feet. Your flinch was followed by a low warning growl, one that you felt more than heard.

“Follow me,” Azriel’s swallow was audible.

“Can you walk?” Lucien’s hand lowered to your waist, pushing you back far enough so he could meet your eyes. They felt swollen and your vision was unfocused and hazy, but you tried to keep them open so he could see that you would try your best. You shifted your weight back onto your heels and slowly slid your right foot in front of you. A lightning like bolt of pain traveled up your leg. Air harshly sucked into your lungs.

“I’ve got you,” his voice was reassuring as he continued to support most of your weigh in his arms. You took another step forward. Then another and another. His hands never faltered from their place on your torso as he moved himself to walk behind you. Ready and poised to keep you balanced and catch you should you fall. “Good girl,” he praised, “Let’s get you cleaned up so I can heal you yeah?”

***************************************************

The walk up from the catacombs to the palace proper was brutal. Your legs burned from the muscle strain and you were regretting not accepting help from Lucien while you bathed. However, the last thing you wanted was to have anyone see you naked. Lucien had helped enough with getting the large sunken in bathtub filled. The scent of vanilla and lavender contrasted with the grime and dirt that filled your lungs for the last week. You had specifically asked for the water to be scalding, wanting it to burn away the memory of everything that had been done to you in the dark. The deep cold that laced your bones was finally seeping out in the hot water. A soft knock rapped on the stone archway leading into the bathing chamber. Unable to move your neck freely you covered your chest and turned to face the male. He walked over to the bench set near the tub, a bundle of cream-colored fabric in his arms. Unless it was a bedsheet you doubted that any clothing he found would fit you. Then again, magic existed so its possible that the fabric could be altered instantly. He sat on the bench and set the garment next to the towel that awaited you.

“Are you certain that I can’t be of assistance?” He looked beyond you towards the open windows that overlooked the absolutely stunning expanse of wilderness below the palace. A darkened city jutting out from the base of the mountains the only thing that disrupted the sight. You were thankful for Lucien’s offer. Truly you were, and despite the feeling-knowing- that you could trust the male, your self-conscious nature surrounding your body was too strong.

“I-” You cleared your throat of the gravel you were certain had lodged itself inside from screaming against the rocky surface of your cell, “I’m good.” The vibration of your vocal chords felt like sandpaper as they rubbed together. He looked at you then and reflexively you squeezed your arms tighter around yourself; gripping your elbows as you dipped down into the water until everything below your neck was submerged. You were grateful for the tub size making you look small. It could easily fit two full grown adults and deep enough to reach your waist when you stood to full height. It almost reminded you more of a jacuzzi rather than a bathtub.

“Then I’ll leave you to bathe in peace,” He stood and clasped his hands behind his back, “I’ll be in the room just beyond these arches. Just call our if you need anything. I’m here to ensure that you’re taken care of.” You nodded your understanding and turned towards the side of the tub lined with soaps and lotions, his foot steps retreating against the stone tiles. While you had difficulty with your range of motion, you managed to rid yourself of the dirt, grime, and dried blood from your skin. Your hair felt silky, soft, and light compared to the heavy oily mats from not washing it for a week. You had also found a razor nearby and took the opportunity to shave, savoring the feeling that you were becoming a person again. Drying off was easier with the relaxed muscles. The vanilla scented lotion felt like heaven as it penetrated your dry skin. You surmised that the bath had really only removed one layer of nightmares as you scanned your form in the mirror on the opposite wall. Your eyes first saw the plethora of cuts in every size cover the expanse of both your arms, shoulders, and collar bone from the dagger-Truth Teller-that Azriel had used during your interrogation. Next you took in the dark red and purple bruise on the left side of your jaw. The discoloration spanning from the joint below your ear to your chin. It was a miracle that he hadn’t knocked any of your teeth out or broken your jaw from the force he hit you with. Eyes trailing further down you saw a second healing bruise, its blue-green hue spanning the length of your ribs on the right side of your body. Laying down on your side was going to prove difficult still. Finally, your eyes landed on the only injury that you yourself were responsible for. The shadows had played too many tricks on your mind, too many whispers promising to break you. The psychological and emotional pain was worse than the physical injuries and honestly became too much for your soul. Something in you broke. You still couldn’t figure out exactly how you managed to grab Truth Teller from him, too focused on plunging the black blade into your left inner thigh and dragging it along the flesh. You couldn’t reach your throat, so you had been aiming for the next major artery you knew of in the hopes that you’d bleed out fast, but Azriel was quick. His attempt to get the blade back from you pushed it away from where it would do the most damage. That was the last day that Azriel brought any form of weapon with him, and the last day he put his hands on you. Rhysand had only managed to stop the bleeding, but a large and deep jagged slice remained. Had you paid more attention you may not have doubted the guilt that lined his features as he worked to heal you. You didn’t want this to be real. You still held out hope that if you somehow managed to end your life you’d wake up on the cold concrete of the path leading up to your front door. You didn’t belong here.

You shook the memories from your mind and picked up the fabric on the bench. You expected the intrusive thoughts and nightmares, but you didn’t think that they would be plaguing you so immediately. You slipped on the airy cotton tank top and loose-fitting matching shorts. You were indeed surprised they fit as well as they did, let alone fit at all. Your bare feet padded along the cool stone floor and entered the massive bedchamber. The room encapsulated a warmth with its cream and ivory base colors. Splashes of blues, teals, and turquoise giving it a calming effect. The dark cherry wood of the four-poster bedframe provided an interesting accent color adding to the space. Lucien sat on an ivory colored couch that faced a white marbled fireplace. Sadly, the flames did nothing to help illuminate the space and only seemed to cast heavier shadows. You glanced around the room again and noticed that the bedsheets had been turned down for you, for whenever you were ready to sleep. But you knew you wouldn’t be able to get any real rest with your injuries being what they were. Rhysand had only stopped the bleeding in your thigh. He did nothing for the other injuries. So, Lucien stated he would heal those for you. Carefully walking over, you sat your self on the couch, keeping enough space for another person to sit between you and the crimson haired male. He turned towards you with a slight smile that quickly faltered as he took in your appearance. He moved closer towards you and examined every inch of your skin. His one real eye held no warmth even as a flame seemed to ignite the iris. He took your chin in his hand to get a better look at the bruise on your jaw. His touch was gentle, but even you could tell that the male was furious with what he saw.

“I had hoped some of this had been dirt,” He turned your head to the side, a finger tracing down along the side of your neck. A metallic scent permeated the air as the hand cupped the left side of your face, covering nearly the entire bruise. His gaze slowly traveled down to your shoulders and the cuts that littered and marred the skin of your arms and shoulders. The skin warmed and tingled under his gentle caress. His eyes paused at your torso, no words needed to understand that he wanted to see the injury to your ribs. You carefully gathered the material and lifted as high as your stiff shoulder and neck muscles would allow. His fingers traced the outline of the mark, and you cringed at the touch of his hands moving your fat rolls out of the way so his palms could lay flat against the skin. Embarrassment colored your cheeks. Lucien continued his healing wordlessly. He motioned for you to stand, grasping your calf and propping your leg on the cushion of the couch. Your inner thigh completely exposed to him allowing the full extent of your wound to be seen. You watched as skin healed almost instantly. His gaze then shifted to the healed scars on your upper thigh, near the junction where it met your hip. “Um…y-you can leave those,” you brought your leg back down to stand before the male, “Thank you Lucien.”

“You’re most welcome,” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. You started to pick at your already blunt nails, a nervous habit you used to ground yourself. You glanced around the room for the third time, almost not believing that you were no longer in the cold and dark. The white walls and bedding opened up the space.

“Is…is that for me?” You pointed over towards the massive bed covered in decorative pillows. Lucien’s red hair swayed with the movement of his head as he followed your gesture.

“The bed is for you,” He stood and walked over to the small bedside table to the left of the headboard, “As is this sleeping draft.” He picked up a deep cobalt vial, giving it a slight shake before setting it back down. You hummed and nodded, but didn’t move from your spot in front of the couch. It went without saying that the potion would be needed after what you experienced over the past week. And you would only feel guilty if you woke him in the middle of the night.

“There’s water for you as well,” His voice softened as he noticed your hesitation. You chewed on your lower lip. The sun was still up, but you didn’t know how its position revealed the time of day. Depending on the time of year and how far north, or south, on the planet you were, you estimated it could be anywhere from 3pm to 9pm. You supposed it didn’t really matter as sleep was sleep and you’d likely remain unconscious for several hours, Gods willing at least.

“I will be in the room next to yours,” He pointed over to a door opposite from the entrance to the bathing chamber, “If you need anything, anything at all you come to me. We’ll get you some food in the morning.” You nodded again as your eyes started to water. You didn’t want to be left alone, but you also didn’t want to take up his time more than you already were. So, wordlessly you forced your feet to move and made your way over to the bed. You crawled in under the blankets that had been moved aside. You grabbed the vial from the bedside table and uncorked the stopper. The scent of chamomile, lavender, and something unknown wafted to you. Before you gave yourself time to reconsider you downed half the contents and set it back down. Lucien was patiently waiting at the door and smiled his first genuine smile towards you.

“Goodnight (Y/N).”

“Goodnight Lucien.”

*******************************************************************

Lucien had answered all your questions, to the best of his ability, during your first day in the Moonstone Palace. He filled you in on the basics of the Night Court and Prythian. For each bit of information he provided about the land or himself, you matched it. He also informed you that while here, Rhysand insisted that you work on finding any potential information of your world and how to get back to it in the texts that he sent. A new stack of books was brought into the small library within the palace every morning. So far, your hours of reading yielded no results. Then again, you could only read a fraction of the texts given to you. Most were in languages that you couldn’t even begin to understand. Still you scanned the tombs for any words that even looked remotely similar to names of places within your universe. Sadly, all you could find was information related to a Midgard, which was frustratingly NOT the same as the mortal realm described in Norse mythology. Lucien then explained that they had already received visitors from this Midgard that were set to return to Prythian soon. You had gathered that one of them was Bryce, but you’d not been given names for anyone else.

In addition to the books you had also been gifted a small wardrobe filled with clothing in your size. It had been awkward when the half wraiths appeared to measure you. But you were provided with some simple dresses, pants, shirts, and under clothes. Nothing fancy, which you were grateful for. Lucien explained the clothes were an apology gift from Rhysand. You told Lucien that if the High Lord was truly sorry he could at least express as much to your face. You couldn’t complain in the grand scheme of things. Rhysand wasn’t obligated to house, feed, or clothe you. He could have easily dumped you in the Mortal Lands, leaving you to fend for yourself. Although, Lucien stated that he knew of two people that would have taken you into their care. Regardless, you did as Rhysand bid, reading for hours day after day and never asked for anything in particular.

Another two weeks went by and you and Lucien developed a little routine. Breakfast followed by hours of research. Then lunch and various exercises and tests to determine if you held any sort of latent magic. Lucien explained that his initial assessment of you that first day showed nothing, but that didn’t mean you were completely without power. Truth be told you felt he was keeping something from you. Then came dinner, after which you were free to spend your time however you wished. Mostly you spent time on the veranda studying the night sky, letting the wind caress your face and hair. There was one night you swore you heard voices held within the breeze. A song encouraging you that you would find peace again. In your world the night time hours used to provide a comfort, but here there was nothing familiar about the constellations that dotted the dark sky above. Instead, the lack of familiarity just made you feel all the more alone. It wasn’t that Lucien wasn’t good company, you just felt bad that he was stuck with you. He tried really hard to get you to relax and fall into the playful banter he likely needed to survive his own punishment. While he never said as much, you had gathered that his babysitting duty was linked to your release and apology from the High Lord. Lucien made your days easy, filled with witty remarks and a warmth that felt natural. An easy friendship had definitely taken root.

However, the nights were hard. You already suffered from extreme insomnia without the added fear of night terrors. So, your sleep cycle was suffering greatly. The first two nights were dream less thanks to whatever Lucien had given you. But the third night resulted in his bursting through the doors of your bedroom at the sound of your screams. As much as you hated yourself for feeling weak, you begged him to stay in the room. He obliged, of course, and slept on the couch. His presence helped slightly. It didn’t chase away the nightmares, but it did make the darkness that permeated the night more tolerable. You had never been fearful of the night before, having even preferred it to the hustle and bustle of the day. You had always the quite of the night to bring you a comforting serenity. But since your time in the cell…you insisted on a fire in the hearth and the faelights to remain lit, believing the light would chase away the shadows that plagued your dreams.

You felt bad forcing Lucien to sleep on the couch. But you also didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable if you offered to share your bed with him. He told you about his mate, Elain, and you felt even worse that your arrival took him away from her. Even if he explained that their relationship wasn’t what would be expected between mates after nearly 4 years of being in each other’s lives. So, you kept the offer to yourself.

Today started out like any other. Lucien and you sat down to a breakfast of eggs, toast and jam with orange juice. You never really cared for tea and coffee appeared to not be available in Prythian if your companion’s confusion was anything to go by. The only difference today were the two additional place settings.

“Are we expecting visitors?” You asked. You immediately wanted to kick yourself for asking what was an obvious question.

“Yes,” Lucien answered, pouring a cup of tea for himself, “I’ve asked some people to come and meet you. As much as I enjoy our time together, it seems that the High Lord still needs convincing that you should not be kept in a cell.”

“I’m not in a cell,” You countered. However, you didn’t miss the fact that his glare told you that your new cell was just a lavish one.

“Our guests may be able to help me make a stronger case for you to be able to move freely about the court, if not Prythian as a whole.” You pondered who he would have contacted. To your understanding, not many members of the High Lord’s “Inner Circle” particularly cared for the emissary. There was also no way that members from another court would be able to hold any sway over the inner workings of the Night Court.

“So, what do they need to know about me?” You asked, spiking the yoke of your egg. In the time spent with Lucien you were able to be yourself for the most part. You held back on your swearing, meme related jokes, and slang, but tested out your sarcasm and dry humor. One of the main things you were worried about was how to speak with others. While you had manners, you had no formal etiquette training. Something that Lucien found utterly hilarious when you asked for clarification on how to address him.

“Relax, its an informal introduction,” His gentle smile reassured you, “Just be the sweet girl that I’ve come to know.” His smile widened. You gave him a doubtful look, tucking your lips into a thin line to suppress a laugh. He batted his irritatingly long eyelashes and the two of you broke out into a fit of laughter. While you weren’t cold or bitchy by any means, you also weren’t a sweet and demure woman either. No, Lucien quickly pointed out that you had a fire within you…at least on your good days. The laughter was cut short by the sound of a thud in front of you on the stone patio. Your eyes immediately tracked the large bat like wings and you stood from your seat. Metal and glass clanged against the stone as your thighs hit the lip of the table. Your chair knocked to the ground, causing you to nearly trip as you backed towards the metal railing. Blood rushed in your ears and your vision started to tunnel. Lucien was next to you in an instant.

“Hey. Hey," He gripped your right shoulder to keep you steady, “Shh, it’s okay. It's not him. You’re safe.” Your gaze remained fixed on the unknown winged male that looked on with worry etching his features.

“See what you did,” the voice of the female he’d been carrying was distant in your ears. Lucien’s other hand cupped your face, forcing you to turn towards him.

“Eyes on me (Y/N),” He encouraged, “Breathe. There you go.” Your eyes focused on his features; the jagged scar-raised and tight, the deep reds sprinkled amongst the warm honey brown iris. Your breath evened out, and you covered the hand on your cheek with one of your own to let the red head know you were okay. You took another breath and released Lucien. However, his hand remained on your shoulder. You turned back to the couple that stood on the opposite side of the space. At first glance, the winged male held features that you noted were similar to Azriel in regards to skin, hair, and eye color. Although, Azriel’s held more flecks of green than the honey gold of the male before you. The unnamed male was taller and broader, his shoulder-length hair softly jostled in the breeze. Your eyes wandered over to the female that was with him. Her striking blue-grey eyes would have reminded you of steel had it not been for the soft sadness that shown in them at your display. You hadn’t expected to react in the manner you did. Your heart still hammered in your chest. You cleared your throat and smoothed down the front of the simple sage green dress you wore.

“I-I must apologize,” You started, “I guess I…sorry.” You wrung your hands together and looked at your feet.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the female spoke up, "It’s this idiot’s fault. We should have given you a warning.” You nodded slightly in acknowledgment. Lucien’s hand trailed down your arm to your hand. He gave it a quick and gentle squeeze before he bent down to pick up the chair you’d knocked over in your haste to get away.

“(Y/N),” He motioned for you to sit back down, “This is Cassian, the General of the Night Court’s Illyrian army, and Nesta Archeron, Valkyrie, sister to the High Lady and fellow emissary.” Lucien gestured to each as they took their own seats across from yours.

“It’s nice to meet you,” You reached across the table, your hand extended to shake theirs. When neither returned to gesture you pulled back. “Sorry, I’m used to hand shakes as a form of greeting in my world.”

“So, you are from another world?” Cassian asked, scooping some eggs onto a plate and handing it to Nesta.

“Yes, we call it Earth,” you searched the table for a spare fork, yours having fallen to the ground. When you couldn’t find one, Lucien handed you his. You raised your eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged and began to spread a blackberry jam on his toast. “And before you ask, there is no magic, at least not the same as what you’re familiar with. Also, creatures such as fairies-the Fae- shapeshifters, vampires, mermaids, nymphs, and so on - are all non-existent. Just stories that have been reduced to myths.” The two regarded you closely, listening to your spiel. When they didn’t say anything you continued, too nervous to allow silence.

“I’m not sure how I got here. There are stories of humans traveling through portals into the realm of the Fae or other worlds, but they are simply stories. Ones made to keep children out of trouble or explain natural occurrences. All prior to finding scientific explanation, of course. Like the changing of the seasons,” You realized you were now rambling, “or fairy rings-rings of flowers or more often mushrooms…” The three non-humans stared at you.

“Don’t Lu,” you warned as the corner of the male’s full lips ticked up, “Yes, I talk when I’m nervous. Yes, I’m nervous because I really don’t know how I got here. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t understand why…I just…want to go home.” Lucien took your hand in his again, his grip reassuring and comforting.

“That’s what we’re all working on,” He assured, “There is a library that, should we manage to convince Rhys-”

“Wait, she can’t leave here?” Nesta interrupted, her eyes blazed. Cassian tensed in his seat and gave Nesta a warning glance. It was clear that not everyone knew of your predicament.

“She’s restricted to the East Wing of the palace,” Lucien clarified, “There are barriers up that she can’t pass through. Just like what Tamlin did with your sister.” If Nesta had been upset before, she looked down right lethal now. Of course, Lucien had filled in you in on what transpired with Feyre and his former home in the Spring Court. Cassian cleared his throat, his gaze falling to the other male.

“What is it you need from us exactly?” He looked to you, seemingly trying to figure out why you posed such a threat that you required to be locked away.

“I need your voice in your High Lord’s ear. I have no magic, and we’ve tried various ways to test that out.”

“Which you’re welcome to see,” Lucien interrupted.

“Yes. I don’t really know how to use a weapon, nor do I have much interest in doing so. And, as I already mentioned, up until a month ago I firmly believed that yo-the Fae were not real.”

“What did my brother say his reasoning was for holding her here?” The question was directed towards the other male.

“He can’t enter her mind.” Cassian’s surprise was not well hidden, “He believes that something or someone is guarding her-” It was your turn to interrupt your friend.

“If I was being guarded or protected, then whatever was responsible has already failed me,” Your voice was soft. A silence fell across the table, and most of the food had grown cold. You didn’t know what else to do or say to convince the General and the Valkyrie of your innocence. All they had to go on was your and Lucien’s word. Even if you were to demonstrate the exercise that Lucien put you through each afternoon with no results, how would they believe that you weren’t just pretending. A ruse to fool them. You desperately tried to quell the pinpricks of tears behind your eyes. You feared that if Lucien’s efforts failed you’d be sent back to the catacombs or worse left to rot on that-

“(Y/N),” Nesta’s clear and calm voice cut through your thoughts, “I’d like to hear more about where you’re from.” You nodded.

“What would you like to know specifically?”

“Let’s start with you. Your family, your up brining.” She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed comfortably in her lap. You swallowed and nodded again.

“I can do that.” You spent the next few hours pouring every detail of your life to the trio. Most information Lucien already knew, some he didn’t. You talked about your family and your friends. You briefly talked about your work and academic studies in music. This caught the oldest Archeron’s attention, which launched a discussion regarding your dissertation topic. The two males excused themselves as you continued to talk with Nesta. The topic changed to books and Nesta promising to bring you some of the spicier romance novels that she found to enjoy the most on her next visit; to which you were grateful as you desperately needed a reprieve from only reading books provided by Rhysand. Cassian and Lucien eventually returned as you made a raunchy joke that had you and the female High Fae laughing loudly.

“It’s time to go Nes,” Cassian set his hand on her shoulder. He looked to you and smiled. The expression was genuine. After spending the few hours you did with the male, you had concluded that he was much less frightening than the other Illyrian. At least for the time being, that is. Nesta rose from her seat and joined her mate.

“I will speak with my sister,” She told you, her features hard with determination, “It’s not right that you’re kept any where against your will when you’ve done nothing to justify imprisonment.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, “I hope to see you both again soon. I’m certain this fool is getting tired of having to entertain me.” You gave the male a wicked teasing grin. Cassian let out a booming laugh as ‘your fool’ placed his hand to his chest in mock offense.

“And here I thought you loved my company,” He stated. You laughed as you stood to join him at the patio entrance.

“Yeah, yeah,” You brushed him off, the smile still plastered to your face. The two of you said your goodbyes and watched as the guests flew off in the distance.

“I think that went rather well,” you looked to Lucien, “Don’t you?”

“Yes, it did,” He held his arm out for you to take, “Cassian agreed to speak to Rhys. He said that he and Nesta would allow you to stay in their home or at least help you get in and out of the library.” You hummed in response as you slipped your arm around his. Your mind wandered, and you felt lighter than you had since you’d been here. He walked you to your room and began prepping the couch to be his makeshift bed for the evening. The sun was quickly setting, and you hadn’t noticed that you spent the entire day talking. You paused near the entrance to the bathing chamber.

“Lu?” he hummed, looking up at you while shaking out the quilt. “Thank you, for everything.”

“Of course, sweet girl,” You rolled your eyes at the term of endearment.

“That’s sticking now isn’t it?” His russet eye brightened with mischief.

“Now that I know it irks you, yes.” You leveled a glare at his to which he just laughed. You huffed a breath.

“If you’re just going to be mean, you can leave,” You stuck your tongue out at him as you made your way into the bathing room. He continued to laugh as he excused himself to his own rooms. When he returned, you were already snuggled in your bed, breathing deep and steady.

Part 3

Tag list: @jenniferpendragon @impossibelle @sweet-chai-amore @myheartfollower

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #lucien x reader #acotar fanfiction #lucien vanserra x reader #plus size reader #lucien vanserra x plus size reader #azriel x plus size reader #BHINfic

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humiliatingsluts · 3 months

Text

Power Corrupts: Part 5

Rob cried all day. The moment the verdict had been read, the moment the sentence was announced, and the moment his beautiful wife had been marched out of sight. Alex had stayed emotionless but he had caught her eye when the punishment – free use service – had been read out. He could see the fear hiding in her eyes but moments later she was gone. He left the court in a daze and by the time he was back at the small third floor flat he shared (used to share, he realised with a sting) with his wife he realised he had been crying constantly. He sat down in front of his MacBook and googled: free use service UK.

The information was exceedingly detailed. He read it with growing dread. Testimonials from women reporting the cruelty, misery and humiliation of the process. Feminist articles arguing the system normalised rape and violence, while other feminist argued that it permitted a safe controlled way for sexual frustrations to be expressed. Other articles argued the service should be expanded further. He read further to absorb details of the rules. Formally the service only included vaginal sex. Many articles and comments claimed that oral and anal were commonplace. The details of the electrical prods that were used to maintain obedience. The medical risks: frequency of unintended pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases.

Rob browsed further and found a website called Free Use Tourism. The banner image was a picture of a naked woman surrounded by men, tears in her eyes and one of the electrical rods in her mouth. The tagline read: a forum for sharing free use service experiences and recommendations. Rob knew he should leave the site, but he couldn't. The forum sections made him feel sick: field reports & experiences, upcoming free use girls, fantasy free use, free use rule breaking and more. Rob clicked into upcoming free use girls. Dozens of threads appeared, each with a photo of a woman and discussion of a court case or potential service. He scrolled down, taking in the vile comments under the photos about travelling to visit and rape these women. Then he stopped dead: his wife Alex smiling out of the screen. The photo was from a TV interview she had done only a few weeks ago. There were more comments under her than any woman he'd yet seen. Rob managed to read only one: "I hate this bitch, been on my rape wishlist for a while". Rob shakily closed the website and slammed his laptop shut. He put on a film and sat in numb silence until he passed out on the sofa.

Rob woke alone and began his day as normally as he could. He was off work for the whole week, so he went to the supermarket to buy food. He was constantly tormented by thoughts of what Alex was going through. She was a strong woman but he also knew she preferred gentle romantic sex. He had always wanted to explore rougher fantasies: pain and domination, but she always demurred. And anal. Rob loved anal and before he got married he had always had regular anal sex with his exes. He could count how many times he'd had anal with Alex on one hand. It made him sick to imagine that she would be anally raped every day.

He got home and despite himself, opened his laptop again. He couldn't resist the curiosity and very quickly ended up back on Free Use Tourism. This time he clicked through to field reports & experiences. The first thread was titled "Alex Colman MP Free Use Day 1". Rob felt his stomach sink, but he couldn't resist clicking. And he read:

"Field report from my first visit to Alex Colman in London. This is my first field report but I've been waiting to visit Alex for weeks, and I know she's been much anticipated so I decided to go first thing to be one of the first to try her out. I plan to visit plenty more so let me know what I should try. Anyway, I turned up to parliament at 7am, free use starts at 8 but there was a queue already. I was probably 10th in line. They were pre-checking STD reports in the queue, good service. She's in a room somewhere in parliament, the place is a maze but the staff make it easy enough. Anyway, to the fucking. She's seriously hot, body is better than she looks on TV. Fat tits and at least on day one her cunt wasn't too stretched out. You wouldn't know she's a feminist the way she keeps it shaved and groomed like a pornstar. Hopefully someone sneaks in a camera because you guys need to see her. She cried and bitched loads which I loved. I decided to fuck her cunt today but the guy before me used her asshole. I'll try that next time. First I tried her mouth, she sucks dick pretty well but I'd like to see her try to deepthroat more, I had to really force it. Once her cunt was free, all I'll say is she's probably the tightest free use cunt I've ever had. I guess that will change so if you're local or planning a trip, come soon. I think I made her cum too, was hard to tell with all her sobbing. Came inside her and had to get out pretty quick as there was a long queue. Overall she's a 8/10. Body is fantastic but her ass could be bigger and her face isn't the prettiest. But highly recommend a trip, let me know your experience or if anyone else here was there day 1 maybe we can fuck her together sometime. I'm thinking of going every weekend."

Rob slammed the laptop shut, his stomach churning and he felt he might puke. But he realised his cock was hard.

---

Follow me for new writing every Friday.

#my writing #power corrupts

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rinbowaman · 9 months

Note

to continue with that other anon, what if y/n actually sent her nudes to one of Heethans friends by accident??

and tried to rile him up more abt it by saying “it’s not THAT big of a deal”……

“No Big Deal.”

SMUT MDNI 18+

Theres mentioning of smut, slight description of smut/smut things, and mentions of photos being sent to others, overstimulation....umm....Heethan is kind of a brute.....but ofc.....he's not sorry. #sorrybutnotsorry.

".....no....oooohnononononooooo....what have i done?"

Your hand shook vigorously as you held your phone and observed the name and number of the recipient who you mistakenly sent a wide variety of photos to.....nude photos.

You could have sworn you typed in the first three letters of Heeseung's name, which would have autofilled to his contact name "Heethan" which you had saved to reflect the two loves of your life. Yet somehow, you must have fat fingered punched a different letter as the photos were all sent to someone else....someone who shared the same class as Heeseung. 'Hewitt'.

Quickly, you reacted by sending a message to Hewitt, explaining the situation.

"Hi, so sorry. this is a mistake, i meant to send those to Heeseung, I have no idea why it was sent to you, please erase those and do not open them."

Biting the tip of your thumb, you anxiously await for a response back.....but not one single message was returned.

"Shit....."

You waited in the room patiently. Since Heeseung went to the store, he ensured that his housemates were all home and residing downstairs so that you were safe and not alone inside the house.

...................

"I'll be back in fifteen minutes. Just stay here and if anything happense, my house brothers and their girlfriends are all downstairs. Just call me."

....................

He had been gone for ten minutes already, and Heeseung was always very prompt when it concerned matters of leaving you alone. Whenever you were in class or left in his room, he never played around with timing. Preferably, he always wanted you with him, yet this time around, with the intentions of surprising him with some sexy photos, you feigned a headache and opted to stay behind.

....................

"I'll get you some medicine while I'm at the store. Did you want anything else, pretty baby?"

....................

The image of his concerned look as he leaned down and kissed your forehead made this whole ordeal excruciating as you reflected on your careless mistake.

"Maybe...if i just....don't act like it's a big deal........maybe he'll reflect that it isnt....based off the vibe....because if I'm freaking out it only enhances the negatives.....but if i'm calm, maybe he'll feed off of that energy."

......................................

Exactly at the fifteen minute mark, you hear his car pull up. You peeked through the blinds, ensuring that the lights in the room was shut off, careful to make sure that your silhouette couldn't be made out as you knelt down on the bed and peered through the window.

Watching him, he had a plastic bag in hand with the contents from the store. He looked calm, or at least it was all you could make out as he wore his hat in the traditional manner of covering his eyes. His casual attire along with the exposure of his strong arms made him look irresistible, no girl could ever blame you for wanting to send him nudes......you kicked yourself for feeling so stupid and careless....how could you have done sent it to someone else?

Your eyes trailed after him as he walked towards the front door. You quickly laid down on the bed, checking your phone once more to see if Hewitt had responded.....to your despair, he did not.

"Dammit....."

You should have erased his number long ago. Reflecting the moment when you had gained Hewitts number, it was back when Heeseung was assisting one of his teachers, so he had you coordinate with Hewitt to pick up the materials for one of his classes as h/n used Jake's car and drove you, since the latter was with Heeseung, also assisting the teacher.

That was the only time you and h/n ever interacted with Hewitt, a calm and quiet individual who seemed like a decent young man. Hopefully he honored your request and erased those photos.

Yet the lack of response from his side furthered your anxiety and made you even more worrisome.

Suddenly the door opens, you remained lying still on the bed, and to your surprise, he didn't immediately turn on the lights. Leaving the room in darkness, you wondered if he genuinely thought you were sleeping from the 'headache' you were experiencing, possibly not wanting to wake or disturb you.

He was always that way, so considerate whenever you were in pain or if something had been on your mind, Heeseung was always your biggest supporter. Obviously, he was always going to be as such, the man was insanely obsessed with you...infatuated.....totally in love with you to the point that, while you haven't seen it yet, you wouldn't put it past the man to resort in developing a 'killer instinct' in order to have you all himself or to 'protect' you. It was the look in his eye that he would get sometimes that made you wonder....

The footsteps breaching in your direction snaps you out of your zoned state of mind. You tried to maintain a relaxed and steady breathing pattern, which had escalated once you felt him sit on the edge of the bed next to your body. Hearing the plastic bag being set down on the floor, you felt the movement of his body as he leans in, and gently caresses your face.

"You awake, pretty baby?" he spoke so calmly.

"Mmm....mmhmm...." you managed to mumble out.

"How are you feeling?"

".....Fine....."

His face closes in and you felt his lips meeting with yours. Gently kissing you, he embraces you with his arms and shifts his position to lay on top of you.

It was...interesting.....only due to the mere fact that he didn't seem to know, but also....normally, whenever you had complained about not feeling well, he usually opted to let you rest. Perhaps when you answered 'fine' he took that in a literal sense and decided to not hold back any longer. The man did have such a high sexual drive when it came to you, according to Jake, who confirmed that while Heeseung always did have a potent libido, since meeting you, it had been stronger than ever.

"You need any medicine for your headache? I got you a few." he calmly speaks against your lips.

"...N-no....it's fine...i'm fine...thank you." reaching your arms around his neck, you pulled him in for a tight embrace, slightly shaking from the fear of whenever he was bound to find out what you had done.

"You're shaking. You cold?"

"mmmm.....no....."

"mmm........good."

Getting up, he walks over to the light switch and flips them on. Turning back around to face you, you saw that horrendously frightening grin of his Ethan side.

"Baaaaaaaaaaaabyyyyyyyyyyyyy......"

"...Y-yes..?"

Walking over to you, he takes out his phone from his pocket, all the while making direct eye contact with you.....those eyes....they were wide with a taunting smirk to accompany that sadistic and malevolent look in his expression.

Kneeling down before you as you positioned yourself to sit on the edge of the bed, legs dangling and your feet delicately resting on the ground, he crouches down with his hand gently placed on your thigh.

Without saying anything, he shows you the contents of his screen......a message from Hewitt.........

..................................

"Kind of careless.....aren't we?" his voice was low. You felt his fingers slightly digging into the skin of your thigh as he spoke.

"uh.....yeah...it was....a mistake.....it was supposed to be a surprise for you...but......i guess if you look at it...it's not....really a big deal..."

"NOT........A ......BIG DEAL?......." his eyes widened as his smirk transitioned to one that reflected irritation and amusement.

"Well...yeah....i mean...if you think about it....he didn't look at them....he sent to them to you....and he's not sharing them with anyone.....so.....its......its all good....." you mumbled out in a soft....a very quiet tone.

"Hmmm......that right?......"

"......y-yes...."

He gets up and tosses his phone on the desk.....the loud clank of the device landing on the surface was hard, you'd be surprised if the screen made it out without any cracks. By the way he threw it and scoffed out an irritating sigh as you watched his backside walking towards his computer, you could tell.....he was mad.

By the direction he was walking in, you figured he was going to sit down and perhaps play some of his video games to take the edge off.....instead, he walked over to the dresser, grabbing on to the hem of his shirt and lifting it off and over his head, removing it. The flex of his back muscles as he took off his shirt nearly caused your mouth to gasp open as you saw the definition of each muscle, lined perfectly and lean.

Tossing the shirt off to the side, he remains standing with his back facing you, digging something out of the top dresser. Turning back around, he maintained a malicious grin as he bites down on his lower lip and as usual, draws blood from his bite.

Walking over to you, he fully extends and displays the satin sash he had in his hand, it was an eye mask, but from where?

"Wh-where did you get that?"

"Mmm......a friend.....who likes to play with toys....."

"A friend?.....Is it....."

"Shhhh.......come here....lets have some fun....."

................................................................

You're not sure how long it had been since he placed the eyewear over your lids and started to 'punish' you with his ravaging performance, yet you didn't care as long as he was finally done. The overstimulation of his dick thrusting into you at such vibrant speed, all the while he flexed and twitched inside of you as he burrowed deep into your tissue muscles, it all caused you to grow weak and sore just within minutes....let alone the hours that passed by.

Breathing deeply, trying to regain your oxygen intake, you lay still with the mask still covering your eyes. He wouldn't let you take it off during the entire session.

"Ready for some more?"

"N..no....no more....please....."

You felt his eyes shift down onto your cavity as he held your legs spread wide open, the shifting sound of his head tilting is what gave it away. Reaching down, you felt his finger probing at your womanhood, scooping up the thick and creamy substance that was caused by the constant throbbing friction of his thrust, his skin, and his muscle merging into your opening as he practically 'melted' into you.

"Lets see if we can go deeper."

"Ethan no! T-too deep! You're too deep! T-take it out! Pleaase!"

"Fuck keep talking like that and I'm going to explode."

"Ethan no more!"

"I love seeing how it looks when I do it to you.....it looks like i'm melting into you, you know that?"

"Uuuugh!"

"Yeah? You fucking like that dont you? hmm? DONT YOU?"

"N-no.....UGH!!"

"Yeeeeeeeeeeaaaah you dooooooo......come here baby, come here......i'll go harder, just for you."

"N-no! Ethan!"

"Yeah...I'll go deeper...just for you."

"Ugh!"

"I'll go faster....I'll fucking cum.....really deep inside...just for you baby."

"Ethan!!!"

The overstimulation you suffered from was immense. He must have released at last eight or nine times, though you wouldn't be surprised if it was more....considering you lost count after the sixth round.

Between tapping into Heeseung and switching back to Ethan, it felt as if each time they swapped personas, the face you were at mercy from came back fully energized and renewed.

Feeling him re-inserting, he slides right in at ease. What with the amount of moisture from your body's natural lubricant, the white discharge from all the thrusting, plus with your opening a bit loose from his constant flexing and entry, you were rendered helpless as he found himself 'home' immediately.

"Ah.....my girl is a little more open now that I broke you, huh?"

"S-stop......Heeseung....please...I-I'm.....so tired....and sore."

"Shhhhh....its okay now.....I'm here to take your mind off that."

Thrusting at a high momentum, with a ferocious vigor, your vision remained enveloped in a shroud of darkness from the satin mask as you hear Heeseung groan against your ear.

"Fuck......you like listening to what I do to you?"

After suffering for the final time, he cums once more and you remained nearly breathless, drenched in sweat and covered by the colors of his 'love'.

You hear his hand extend past and past your head, it sounded as if he reached for something, though you were too exhausted from wondering what it was. Another toy? God.....you hope not. Fearful of what he had planned next, you let yourself go and black out from the effects of tiredness and the euphoric overstimulation........

................................................

The next day.......

Waking up, your eyes opened to the naturally lit room as the morning sun was just nicely rising. Heeseung's arm caresses your waist as you lay against his chest, your backside spooned by his broad frame, as he remained deep asleep.

"Thank God...."

He too must have succumbed to the effects of exhaustion considering the number of times he ravished you. Although the effects always hit him differently than it did with you. For him, there was less pain and agony, it was just pure pleasure, unlike for you, where you got the bitter end of the stick by receiving a mixture of pain and euphoria, something that Heeseung and Ethan took great delight in giving you whenever you had broken the rules or 'misbehaved.'

Reaching up for your phone, you were shocked to see over 23 messages that came in.

"Oh no....did Hewitt...?"

Fearing the worst, you opened up the messages.....if what you had suspected was true......you had a feeling that Heeseung.....and Ethan were going to repeat their performance from last night....meaning you would get no rest....and will be sore for alot longer than just today.

The most recent message was from H/n.... the first bit of her message confirmed your worst fear....

"Oh my God.....he did.....Hewitt did share them....what am I going to do? Is Heeseung going to kill him? What is he going to do with me? What is he going to do?"

Reading on, you continued to examine the messages from H/N....it only brought you emotionally lower.

"Oh my God......why Hewitt...why?"

Unable to read on, you dropped our phone and buried your face into your hands. You felt like crying.

"How could Hewitt do this?.....How am I going to calm Heeseung down now?"

A ding comes in, signifying another message, although this time, it wasn't coming in through your phone. Heeseung's phone was resting on the nightstand beside the bed, which was odd considering the last time you remember seeing it was when he tossed it on the desk.

Picking it up, you took advantage of his sleeping status and decided to see the message that came in. His forearm still wrapped around your nude body as you leaned slightly away to grab onto the device and open it; once you had entered the passcode, your face reflected the most horrific shock as you unveil the contents of a certain message from Jake....

....................

Trembling, you read on to find the photos that H/N and Jake were referring to........were not the photos that you mistakenly sent to Hewitt.......

Suddenly, you felt Heeseung's arm that laid around your waist tighten and tug you closer to his body. You turned around slightly to find that his eyes were already open, staring at you with a sly smirk as half his face was burrowed into the pillow.

"Pretty baby...did you sleep well?"

".........wh-what....did you do???"

You stared at him with furrowed brows and wide eyes. How could he do this? This was way too far.

You nearly wanted to scream at him, although that wouldn't have worked out in your favor, yet still, you were on the brink of breaking down when suddenly his words nearly caused you burst into tears.......what could you possibly say in response?.......

"Aw baby, dont be that way, it was an accident. Dont worry, its not like they shared it with anyone else.....remember? Its....NO BIG DEAL."

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

#heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enha heeseung #heeseung scenarios #enha x reader #yandere enhypen #heeseung yandere #yandere heeseung #yandere x reader #male yandere #heeseung fanfic #enha imagines #enha fanfic #enha drabbles

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gaysindistress · 10 months

Text

Fine Line

summary: Forgetting his first love is easier said than done as memories of his best girl are the only things that Steve thinks about during the days leading up to his wedding. Not once did he think of Peggy even as she walked down the aisle or when they were pronounced husband and wife or when she refused to let him go throughout the celebrations. He hoped that with time she would leave his every waking thought but time would prove to be a cruel mistress and would not grant him such luxuries. A decade and one failed marriage later, she still hasn’t left his mind.

pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

warnings: angst, the feels

word count: 3.3k

Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom

Dial Drunk - part 2 & Cocaine Jesus - part 3

a/n: SURPRISE! I’m not fully back but I missed you guys so I’m giving you Fine Line early. Everything else will resume on 7/7 like planned. Also I’m torn between making this a series or keeping it as a one shot. What are y’all thinking?

masterlist

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

Falling in love was supposed to be the greatest accomplishment for a person. The rush of emotion, the butterflies in one’s stomach, the flush when one’s lover is near, the feeling of complete joy and fulfillment. Falling in love was supposed to be the happiest moment in one’s life. It’s meant to last forever, the eternity that a couple walks on this earth. It’s meant to persevere through any and all hardships that life throws in their way and strengthen the bond they share. Love, true love in its purest form, is meant to be the greatest healing force that nature has to offer and will provide a couple with an endless supply of cures for any ailment. Love is the one thing that people seek out the most in any and all forms but the love that is found in the arms of a lover is the most sought-after. Love is meant to be a good thing until it is not.

When love sours and turns into resentment, hatred, pain, and angst, it destroys. It becomes the ruination of once strong and powerful people. It becomes a weakness that anyone can expose, one that anyone can exploit when needed. When love fades away into nothingness, the hole that is left is permanent. It will never be filled, will never shrink, will never heal. The hole that loves leaves is a stark reminder of what was meant to be and what actually happened. It’s filled with what-ifs and theories of what could’ve been, questions left unanswered and will continue to go unanswered. When love is lost, the two lovers change and something new becomes of them. In the case of Steve Rogers, an entirely new man was forged from the fires of lost love.

At barely 22, he was faced with a decision he’d hoped would never come. Being the son of a crime boss and the natural next pick to lead, it was his duty to pick a suitable partner to support him when his time came. Of course, some standards and stipulations accompanied his decision but he quickly learned that there was a predetermined pick already in place. He had no choice, no free will to decide his own future, and with that, he would have to leave behind the love he had known since they were children.

“You can’t be serious, Dad,” Steve’s hands shook with anger as he held back the urge to smash something, anything at all.

“The Carters are very good friends of ours and Peggy is a sweet girl. She’ll make for a lovely wife,” Joseph Rogers, the current leader of the Rogers crime syndicate, explains while not batting an eye at his son’s aggression and continues to eat the roast his wife made.

“You can’t just force me into this. Mom,” he turns to Sarah who is sitting quietly at the kitchen table, “please there has to be something else, anything else.”

She only shakes her head, eyes downcast on the dark wood of the table where they’d been eating dinner as a family moments ago. Joseph spares her a very brief glance to ensure that she isn’t going to give in to her son’s pleas for help.

“What’s done is done. You will marry Peggy Carter at the end of the week and that is the end of this conversation. I do not want to hear another word about it, am I clear?” The authority in his tone forces both his wife and son into a quick nod and ‘yes sir’ as the only other sounds that fill the room are those of him cutting the meat on his plate.

Another stern look from his father has Steve returning to his seat but not without one last question, “What about…”

Joseph slams his hand on the table, rattling nearly everything and everyone as he cuts Steve off, “I said not another word and as for that girl, you will break it off and forget about her.”

Easier said than done as the thought of his best girl and leaving her are the only things that he thinks about during the days leading up to his wedding. Not once did he think of Peggy even as she walked down the aisle of the grand catholic church in her expensive white gown or when he briefly pressed his lips against hers as they were pronounced husband and wife or when she refused to let him go throughout the celebrations. Not once did Steve stop thinking of his true beloved his entire wedding day or night when he begrudgingly commenced their marriage. He hoped that with time she would leave his every waking thought but time would prove to be a cruel mistress and would not grant him such luxuries.

She inhabited every corner of his mind for the next 15 years and nothing could shake the memory of her tear-stricken face when he told her that they were done. To spare her the real pain of the truth, he lied and said that he had been seeing Peggy the entire time they were together. Whether or not a cheating revelation was really better than an arranged marriage was lost on him and he regretted every word the moment they slipped out. Of course, she hadn’t believed him, he would never do something so horrible as cheating on her. She knew him better than that, she knew him better than he knew himself so lying to her would never be successful. Yet she accepted it and didn’t pry any further, knowing that if he was lying, there was clearly something far worse happening.

He watched all love drain from her face and tears wet her skin when the lies filled her head. Everything they had built together over the last year had been ruined with two sentences; It’s over. I’ve been cheating on you with Peggy and we’re getting married.

15 years later and only God knows he would be able to make up for those lost years and cruel parting words. Rain storms around him and soaked his thick black outer coat as he stands in front of the blue door. The thunder drowns out the sound of his blood pulsing in his ears as nerves start to take over him. Should he really be here? Would she open the door for him? Hell did she even live here anymore? All sorts of questions scatter any rational thought he has. However lucky for him, the door opens and reveals her standing there and everything completely leaves his brain at the sight.

“What are you doing here?” her voice is calloused and devoid of all emotion as she stares up at him.

“H… Hi,” he stutters, his chest constricting as it works to breathe. In and out, in and out.

“What are you doing here?” she repeats.

“Can I come in?”

“It depends. Is someone dead or are you just here to reminisce?”

His hand strays from his pocket to scratch the back of his neck, an old nervous habit his father had tried to break for years.

“Either way, I don’t want you here so leave,” she says, going to close the door on him and everything that might blossom from this moment but the stray hand blocks that from happening.

“Please, I just want to talk.”

“No. Just go,” she tries again to push on the wood alas she is no match for the strength he has built up over the years and she lets out a defeated sigh.

“5 minutes. That’s all I ask.”

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

The smile she had only dreamt of for years finally becomes real again as it stretches across his short stubble covered face, “Not a chance in hell, honey.”

The woman steps back but only enough for him to squeeze past and invade her no longer safe space. She knew when the sleek silver car pulled up that any sense of safety would go. His showing up at her front door made her a target for any and all of his enemies after she’d spent years trying to erase any memory or sign of him from her life.

He glances around the room, taking in every detail it had to offer from the various books that lined the brick walls to the pictures of family and friends on the countertops. One, in particular, halts him. It’s a small polaroid from the first night they’d since each other since childhood tucked into the corner of a mirror that’s amidst the books. In it are two much younger versions of them smiling drunkenly with fireworks in the background.

It had been the fourth of July the year he moved back from college. Sarah, his mother, insisted that they throw a late welcome home of July party since this was the first time in four years he had been back. The college had been an escape from the greed and foulness of his father’s world but his tranquility had to be shattered when he was presented with the prophecy of him taking the Rogers family business. Sure he knew it was going to happen but being faced with the reality of it proved to be too much for him. He’d spent the afternoon sneaking away to take shots in between his beers because he needed to be drunk to not remember a thing to survive this night.

It was probably around the 5th secret shot when his sweet honey had shown up, stumbling upon him looking for the bathroom. There she stood in her cutoff Levi shorts and white tank top that showed off the red bikini top she’d worn to the lake earlier. He should’ve heard her coming down the hallway given that she was wearing flip-flops but the deafening effect of the alcohol must’ve kicked in.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” she stutters, frozen with embarrassment, “I’m sorry but where is the bathroom?”

Coughing from nearly choking on his shot, he wipes at his mouth both physically and metaphorically, “Um it’s across the hall.”

“Thank you, Steve,” she whispers while closing the door.

“Wait how do you know my name?” his voice halts her and she cringes when she hears it.

“Oh uh… I guess you don’t recognize me,” she says, pushing her hair back, “I’m Y/N L/N.”

“Oh, OH,” it suddenly all clicks into place and he feels immensely guilty for all of the thoughts that had run through his head, “I should’ve known. It’s been uh… a crazy week.” “It’s all good. I’m sure your parents have paraded you around like a circus animal. Ya know, the prodigal son returns and all,” the sound of far-off laughter has her checking over her shoulder, “Anyways I should go. It was nice seeing you.”

“Yeah it was nice seeing you too,” he trails off, too caught up gawking at how short her cutoffs were and how if anyone dared to look her way, he’d been cut their eyes out.

He’d made it his mission that night to watch over her and make sure that no one got close to her. Of course, this was unbeknownst to her and any attractive guy that showed up quickly disappeared, refusing to even go near her. About 4 guys in, she’d spotted the reason for her bad luck leaning against the sliding glass door with his arms crossed over his chest. Even though she couldn’t see his eyes from behind his sunglasses, she could tell by the way his jaw was set that his death glare had scared off any and all men that approached her.

“Is there a reason why you’re ruining my chances at finding a guy?” she asked him as she came to stand at his side.

He briefly glanced at her from the corner of his eye before readjusting his arms tighter over his chest, straining his white button-down.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally settled on but she doesn’t buy it for a second.

“You know exactly what you’re doing and I want to know why.”

“And what do you think I’m doing?” “Being a bitch and not asking me out yourself so you’re resorting to giving everyone the stare-down.”

He scoffed at the suggestion but deep down he knew that she was right.

“The fact that you didn’t even try and defend yourself proves I’m right so are you going to man up or pout?”

“I’m not pouting,” he tried to defend himself but it was too late and she gives him an annoyed look, “Want to go inside?”

She pushed off the door, took his hand in hers, and dragged him inside, “I thought you’d never ask.”

She clears her throat, drawing his attention back to the present and he hesitantly looks at her through the mirror. She doesn’t look exactly pleased that he had seen the last photo she’d held onto but she doesn’t let her bothered attitude show and gestures for him to sit at the kitchen island.

“Why are you here?” she asks him while getting things to make iced coffee. “I wanted to see how you were,” he lies, taking a seat in the tall wicker chair she’d thrifted a few months before.

“You had 15 years to do that. Why are you really here?”

“We got divorced.”

She freezes for a moment but continues to make herself a cup and offers him one. He shakes his head, awaiting her response.

“Oh?” is all that comes out of her as the rain drones on outside.

“It had been a long time coming.”

“I’m sorry,” her body language tells another story that is the opposite of her words. The indifference is clear as she passes him a cup made to his exact preference anyways. Feeling his bright blue eyes burning holes into her skull, her own eyes flicker up and meet his, “You can’t expect me to care. You cheated on me with her and dumped me the same week you married her.”

“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t expect you to feel bad for me,” he says, taking the cup from her hands.

“But here you are; showing up at my house and begging me to open the door to what? Talk? Talk about what? You didn’t come here just to tell me that so what is it?” she pries, leaning against the sink behind her to keep as much distance as she can between them.

He takes a sip and savors the thought that she absentmindedly put into it before answering her question, “I wanted to set things straight.”

She merely raises an eyebrow but allows him to keep talking.

“My dad arranged my marriage to Peggy and forced me to break it off with you. It was… I never…. I never cheated on you.”

Eyeing him from her place, she takes a long drink from her cup to think over his revelation. Half of her laughs at him and how stupid he must be if he thinks she is really going to believe that. The other part tenses at the idea that maybe they could have been together after all if they had run away like they planned.

“I lied because I thought it would be easier than telling the truth but it made everything worse and I’m sorry, honey.”

“Sorry doesn’t change anything regardless if you lied or not. Now you’ve said what you needed to, so leave,” she tells him, pointing at the door with the cup in her hand. He can see the scar on her hand from when she broke through a window after she’d locked herself out trying to sneak back in. A smile breaks onto his face which frustrates her even more.

“Really, Steve, you need to go.”

“Is this it? Is this how it ends?”

“Are you being serious right now?”

He holds up his left hand in his defense and the carved-out space where his wedding band once sat causes her breath to hitch slightly.

“I’ve spent the last 15 years thinking about YOU and what we could’ve had. You can’t tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind at least once?”

She drops her gaze to her cup, unable to look at him and the anguish clear on his beautiful features, “What does it matter? It didn’t happen. You got your perfect life and I had to make my own way.”

“You were always a part of what I wanted my life to look like and what I got with Peggy was all fake. I never wanted her or any of it for a second, I just wanted you,” the lull of his voice tempts her to look up again but if she does that, she’ll break. She can only imagine the way his brows pull together from stress or how his jaw clenches to stop the emotions from overtaking his senses. She can only imagine how he’d slowly blink with that sad smile of his when she would make eye contact or how he’d lower his voice to say her name in the softest tone he could manage.

“Go.”

“Honey please look at me.”

“Go,” she tries a little louder, her grip on the cup growing tighter as she struggles to keep her composure.

“Look at me first.”

“Go,” she says one more time, “Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go”

Each go grows more and more desperate as her composure slips away from her and everything she’s suppressed from the night he left comes rushing to the surface as lava does when its volcano starts to erupt. The cup shatters under her death grip, sending pieces of glass and iced coffee everywhere. Neither of them flinch at the sound, having grown used to much worse noises thanks to his business. However, the dam within breaks, and tears slip down her nose as she spaces out on the wreckage of her anger at her feet. Steve quietly stands from the island and gathers her into his arms, pulling her away from the mess on the floor. She doesn’t fight it, wrapping her arms around his bicep as she cries into it. The comforting words he whispers into her hair go unheard but she can feel the rumble of his voice in her chest and that provides all the comfort her body craves.

Feelings of fulfillment and joy fill him as he finally holds her in his arms again but it doesn’t last long when she starts to speak.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t have come here.” He pulls away a little to look down at her, “I don’t understand.”

“You shouldn’t have come here,” she repeats for the third time, “Things were different when we were kids but we’re grown now and too much has happened. You’ve done too much, I’ve done too much for us to be together. This won’t work.”

“We weren’t kids though,” disbelief fills his voice with uncertainty causing it to wobble.

“Yes we are,” she persists, “You were 22 and I was barely 18. We were stupid to think it was anything more than a fling.”

“A fling?” he drops his arms from her and takes a staggered step back as if she shoved him.

She turns her back to him to spare herself the look of utter hurt he wears, “Please. Just go.”

Receding footsteps mix in with the rain as he does what she asked and leaves. Her front door slams shut and the shutter shakes the house as well as her. Dropping down to her knees on the sticky floor, the tears fall now like a tidal wave and the sobs rack through her body as she blindly tries to clean up the glass shards.

Love is not meant to feel this way.

#mob au #mafia steve rogers x reader #mob steve rogers #mafia! steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #mafia steve rogers #marvel imagine #marvel #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #mafia au #fine line steve rogers

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fxshigurosbae · 2 years

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THE LEARNING BOY . . .

your boy wants to practice what he learned.

⋆.ೃ࿔* megumi fushiguro (19) x f!reader (18)

✶ mature content (minors do not interact) — fingering, mirror sex, pet names, praise, edging, multiple orgasms, squirting, guidance, strong language.

taglist | masterlist

He told you he wanted to try new things. He told you he was dying to make you feel good. Gosh, how he’s got you wrapped around his finger, quite literally too.

Megumi-chan, had you sat between his legs — with your own also spread quite shamelessly, a rose tint on your cheeks to decorate the cute doll that you are— you imagined he’d just eat you out casually, after coming back from college, and being horny all day long, but no. He wanted to have you to fucking stare at his every move in the mirror that was in front of the bed you were both found laying at.

“Tell me if you like it, and if you don’t, ‘kay, baby?” He whispered in your ear, staring at every inch of yourselves, his hands holding onto your trembling — from anxiety — waist. Noticing him take a peek of that wet aroused pussy of yours, and all you could do was nod in response. “Good, ‘cause I’m here to serve you, baby.” While spilling those sweet words, his middle finger was found drawing circles and straight up-and-down lines on your clit — earning a gasp from your lips.

“Gumi.” You wanted to beg for a faster pace but the way he’s been playing with you is already good enough for a start — even if you had asked so, Megumi was dedicated in following the instructions Gojo explicitly described that advised him about how to please his girlfriend, and mentioned something about taking it slow at first, just to stir up this same feeling of wanting more — but the image of his digits caressing your folds was helping no one at all.

“Yeah, baby?” Holding onto his wrist, arching back like a cat in heat, slightly parted lips that let out short humming moans — since the pace had finally sped up a little, and he rubbed the most stimulating spot which even made you notice the low-cracking noise from moving the muscles from your clit.

“Keep it, like that.” Whispering, escaping a few whines that sounded like a crying cute little puppy. Both you and Megumi couldn’t seem to look away from the scene happening down there, the reflection was just so entertaining it made your boyfriend blush, a lot, and fluster a little, so his ego and pride began to reach high levels by hearing those affirming words. Wasn’t even too long before there was this brief flinching feeling in your lower stomach, wondering how the fuck did he got you to get this close with just having your clit rubbed for a little less than about two minutes. “Gumi, g’nna cum.” Resting head over his shoulder, moaning lowly on his ear in such a pretty tone. What you expected was that: Megumi letting you cum for the first time and wrapping up for the day, but no — once again, it was unexpected — there was no longer any sort of stimulation, just for a few seconds. He looked at your furrowed eyebrows with a frustrated aura, and smirked a little — so fucking cute, you thought.

“I’m sorry, baby, I promise I’ll let you cum now, and how many more times you want.” His long slender digits — middle and ring one — found a way inside your moist pussy, loud moaning leaving your mouth as a way to let him know it was better than ever. Megumi wasn’t that experienced with these sorts of stuff, more specifically for the two or three times you both had been sexually active — he did make sure you orgasmed every time, or else he’d feel guilty — but each time he got a little better, he just hadn’t had the chance to finger you properly yet, because of him being hesitant. So, for him to have his fingers curling in and out of you — like he had done it thousands of times — was dizzying, as if you’d cum right on the spot. Megumi was loving the feeling of having your pussy, of your walls embrace, and how he certainly wished to open you up to make some room and prepare for his cock, yet he was too shy to admit that.

“Gumi, fuck, keep going. Please, don’t stop.” You begged, closing your eyes ever so hurriedly that right then he had stopped you from looking away from the mirror — the image of being finger fucked by your innocent and soft boyfriend lit up a burning flame deep in. His focused stares, admiring your entireness, paying specific attention to his moves and analyzing every single step to make sure perfection was being achieved — by your engulfing whining that goal surely was coming true.

“You like it?” His gentle voice melted you like chocolate — Gosh, Gumi, I wanna have you fuck me like this all day, you thought.

“Yeah, I love it, I love it! Y’ur so good to me, Gumi, so good.” Finding precisely, and predictably, your spongy spot, which — without any warning, whatsoever — led you into oblivion, echoing humming lewd moans, so readily squirting and clenching your walls around his fingers, what a surprise.

“Fuck, baby, what a mess you made.” Even though already reaching over the top for the first time, your boyfriend hadn’t stopped, only slowing down the pace of the fingering.

“Gumi, Gumi, too much.”

“Sorry, baby, let me do it once more.” There were no complaints, after all, this situation seemed to be way too arousing for him — made it obvious by the feeling of his bulge against your bare back — so you let him keep fingering your clenching cunt, yourself sliding down his back a bit, laying all of your weight against his chest and trying your absolute best to close your legs — yet he successfully spread them apart with the unoccupied hand. — From all the moving around from your previous orgasm, his fingers were no longer in that right stimulating spot.

“Gumi, curl, curl your fingers more, please.” Guiding him effortfully as he finally picked up the pace and moved a little, only to find it for the second time — and making your legs tremble harshly — “Hmhm, fuck, f-fuck, right there, Gumi.” Watching with intensity your walls clenching over the brusque movements on the mirror, whining then moaning, moaning then whining ever so loudly. You could feel his tired breaths against your neck, the pace fastening — just how you wanted but was too dizzy to express it out loud — leading yourself into holding his wrist and pushing them further inside your cunt as you squirted, again, and all over the palm of his hand, and the sheets, without a doubt — like an earthquake, your legs shook violently and closed together, squeezing his hand between them and the same goes to his fingers, that for him felt like it’d burn them — you threw your head back, over his shoulder, all while having kisses pressed all over your neck and choking on your own moans with a shut mouth, until you went back to a sane state of mind. While he thanked Gojo over and over inside his head, which was very odd and that would definitely be a one-time thing.

“Think I came on my pants, Y/N.”

fxshigurosbae © please do not upload my content on any platform

🔖 [taglist] @fueledbysano @reiners-milkbiddies @kitabestboy

#fanfic #anime #one shots #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro smut #fushiguro #fushiguro smut #megumi x reader #megumi x you #manga #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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wangxianficrecs · 5 months

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💙 The Difference a Stab Wound Can Make by RadAceFriend

💙 The Difference a Stab Wound Can Make

by RadAceFriend

T, WIP, Series, 49k, Wangxian

Summary: The sword went through Wei Wuxian's chest. Suihua went through Wei Wuxian's chest. Kay's comments: Another series marked as incomplete, but the story definitely feels complete! In which, at Qiongqi Path, it's not Jin Zixuan who dies, it's Wei Wuxian. So, Jin Zixuan lives, but at what cost? The cost is that he has to grow up and grow as a person as he realises how corrupt the Cultivation World is. Everyone is congratulating him on killing Wei Wuxian and he's just really not feeling it and I really loved this Jin Zixuan POV. Also has the nice effect that the Wen remnants live, something the second and third story of the series deal with. Wangxian get a happy ending in the end as well, because Wei Wuxian still gets to return as Mo Xuanyu. Excerpt: His father ordered a stone tablet carved of his noble deed and Jin Zixuan wanted to scream. The design the artist had drawn to give over to the stone carver showed his sword piercing Wei Wuxian, the expression on his own face one of righteous judgement while Wei Wuxian’s was one of murderous rage. There was a second drawing, one of him in the main hall with A-Li against him. In that one, Suihua dripped blood still, and A-Li’s face was one of sorrowful acceptance, and his one of peaceful resolution. Jin Zixuan hated them. Jin Guangshan ordered for both of them to be carved and put up with the images of his own accomplishments, so that everyone would know what his heir had done. It was only at night, when A-Li was asleep, and Koi Tower was quiet, and he was as close to alone as he could get with only the peepholes he could find blocked against peering eyes and listening ears, that he took A-Ling from his cradle. A-Ling was still so young that he did little but eat and sleep. But sometimes, he was awake, and not crying, and this moment when Jin Zixuan picked up his son was one such moment. He pulled out the bell and tassel. “Someone wanted you to have this.” He said quietly. He spoke in a low voice rather than a whisper. One of the first things he had learnt from his mother was that a whisper travelled further and could be more clearly heard than a low tone. “He made it, to protect you.” A fastened the bell to A-Ling’s swaddling clothes. “It will have to be a very strong resentful creature if it wanted to harm you.” He gently pressed his lips against A-Ling’s forehead, where the vermillion mark had already been painted. “I’m sorry that you will never get to meet him.” He rocked his son back to sleep, ignoring the pain still lingering in his ribs and chest.

pov jin zixuan, pov wen qing, pov lan sizhui, canon divergence, jin zixuan lives, jiang yanli lives, wen remnants live, canonical character death - wei wuxian, thirteen years of wei wuxian's death, butterfly effect, lan wangji/wei wuxian get a happy ending, not jiang family friendly, jiang family dynamics, grief/mourning, survivor guilt, cultivation sect politics, angst with a happy ending

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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b3achysurfur · 5 months

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ok so I don’t believe Aiden is dead. there’s a lot of reasoning behind why I think this, but it’s very vauge because all my theories lead down two separate paths.

SBG CHAPTER 60 SPOILERS AHEAD

idk if y’all noticed the computer like affect around this scene but it only happens three times. All of which are in Ashlyn’s perspective of the incident.

in the second photo, the computer like fliter only appears on ashylns face, the view of Aiden is mostly clear.

I have a lot of questions, and I haven’t picked a theory/explaintion for sure yet, but one of my ideas are that it’s Ashlyn’s fear completely taking over here. We already knew from the beginning of sbg that ashyln often doubts what she sees, as if she doesn’t trust her eyes to tell the truth. we’ve seen her make up excuses and fake scenarios to cope with her reality and things she’s doesn’t understand. This is not her fault though, as we’ve seen it links back to her childhood.

She can often times be pessimistic about situations, always readying for the worst situation to happen as if it’s the only way things could go down. This also relates to her childhood.

Given these two facts, as well as the disorienting fliter over Aiden’s body and her facial expressions, i think it’s safe to assume that Aiden’s injuries are not as life threatening as they appear to be. Yes, I know a ceiling fell on him, I’m not saying he’s not badly injuried. But I don’t think it will provoke a reaction in his real-world body as it did for Tyler, or at least not one as serious.

this side of his face is almost completely fine, minus a few bruises (given some are from the car crash). although, since it’s a head injury, it only takes one side of his head to be damaged for it to be life threatening. But the biggest impact is to his jaw/cheek, not necessarily his skull.

also, the computer-like fliter goes away as soon as another person is thrown into the equation. The streaks return to their normal color of white, and the werid glitch affect on them disappear.

see how the streaks start glitching as soon as ashlyn notices Aiden’s in deathly trouble? Almost as if it’s not real/something is off. We’ve never seen these glitches before (trust me I pay attention to these things).

anyways back to the image before this where Taylor grabs Aiden. The fliter is gone, and ashlyn snaps back into reality with the help of Taylor and her instructions. Taylor’s reaction is to immediately get Aiden under something safe. This part gets a little messy since we don’t have any scenes after this to show which explaintion makes more sense but wtv. Either Taylor is full of adrenaline and is in full protection mode, which is why she doesn’t hesitate to drag Aiden to safety, or she’s aware that his injuries aren’t as bad as Tyler’s / they’re not life threatening. A blow to the face will 9/10 knock you unconscious, regardless of how powerful the hit was. Taylor may have assumed that’s what had happened to Aiden, and she didn’t have time to second guess herself. She is done letting things harm her brother and friends. Anyways, her stepping into action grounds ashlyn and pulls her back to reality.

Also, this scene looks familiar doesn’t it? In the second image, the group was unable to control their emotions and were acting on pure adrenaline and feeling. Ashlyn is obviously experiencing a strong mix of fear, stress, and past trauma. If these two images are comparable, ashlyn mentally assuming/seeing the worst of the situation is not unusual.

Basically, I feel this event is exaggerated because ashyln is trying to cope with the situation. Understand that she is blaming herself for everything right now. Tyler flew out of the car just yesterday. She found him on tree just a few hours ago. She was the one who sedated him. She pulled him off the tree. She saw everything first hand, she felt the most guilty/responsible. Ashlyn has always been the one emphasizing how dangerous their situation is, but to finally see it happen right before your eyes is traumatic.

Aiden has been her main source of comfort since day 1, ashlyn has a soft spot for Aiden. He is her rock of support. So, after seeing Tyler’s ‘death’ and the affect it had on him irl, it’s not crazy to believe she is exaggerating watching Aiden ‘die’. It also makes sense because she’s watching it happen right before her eyes, while she only saw the aftermath of Tyler’s ‘death’. Ashlyn convinced herself Aiden died because she’s not in the right headspace / not mature enough to process it properly. None of them are.

I know a lot of people are speculating that the glitching effect + fliter is them shifting back into their reality since ashlyn said they only had 3 mins left, but I disagree. Lmk if that explaintion would intrest you lot.

again this is all just speculation that is quite underdeveloped. I just wanted to share it before I lost my train of thought. thank u for reading 😋

#as always feel free to ask me questions/add onto this #also exaggerating isn’t the right word but idk what else to put #sbg #school bus graveyard webtoon #school bus graveyard #schoolbus graveyard #sbg (webtoon)#sbg theories #schoolbus graveyard aiden #sbg aiden #phantom world sbg #sbg ashlyn #ashlyn banner #aiden clark #theories

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danganronpafan777 · 1 year

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SDRA Boys reaction to finding out Kanade killed there Fem S/O because she is best friend with Hibiki which resulted in Kanade cutting up S/O gruesomely like she did to Setsuka in the canon Game

Damn, fellow angst fan!

You didn't specify if Hibiki committed the murder too, so I included how they would interact with her after the trial knowing what her sister did-

Yuki Maeda:

When he sees your body at first, he's in complete shock

He wants to look away, but his eyes won't budge

It isn't until Shinji and Sora say his name a few times when the dam breaks

He's horrified, sad, angry, and full of grief all at once

He throws up during the investigation, and can't go near the body

There's no point, since it's already burned into his mind

He's quiet and crying during the trial, barely even blinking and ignoring anyone who tried to help

Sora tells him if he wants to get justice for you, then he must work with everyone

"...huh...What the hell do you know? About me? About Y/n? She's dead. I don't care anymore."

Yuki goes blank. Even void is a little worried, isn't it a bit soon for Utsuro to come out?

Anytime he sees Hibiki, he feels his stomach drop, the image of your body appearing fresh in his mind

He doesn't want to hate her, as she's just as much of a victim as you were, but her resemblance to Kanade makes him mistake her sometimes

Teruya Otori:

He slams his fist down on the podium in grief and anger, his eyes beginning to swirl in despair.

Why was this happening to him again? It was really all because you befriended the wrong person? Why did you have to die? Why couldn't it have been him!?

He thinks back to all the moments he had with you. Sun gazing, cuddling, your first kiss... he'd never see you again, he promised he would protect you and he failed again. Why was he such a failure?

He didn't want to give into despair, he really didn't, but sitting idly while everyone you loved died a horrible death made him wonder if hope really did exist

He stays in your dorm for a while, but definitely keeps a closer eye on everyone

If Hibiki didn't die, he couldn't bring himself to resent her, just her criminal scum of a sister

He has to keep the others safe and put an end to the killing game. He's well aware that he's not smart, if he was, he would have been able to save you

But he's strong. He's pushed himself past his limits before and he's not afraid to do it now.

He’ll protect everyone because it's what you would have wanted

That's the only thought keeping him sane

Shinji Kasai:

Also in shock when he sees your body

You were....there...(and there, and there-)

He’s seen a lot of gruesome sights of people who had terrible burns (Including himself, which you always reassured him over) but this was…

He starts to cry right there, as Yuki and Sora rush to comfort him

He can’t bring himself to investigate your corpse or your room, instead talking to everyone about their alibis

This whole time, he was saying that the people in void were friends and probably had some kind of reason for doing this, but…

He’s not sure anymore.

What kind of monster would put you through something so horrid?

When he finds out that it’s Kanade, he nearly breaks his podium

He’d never hit a girl, even if she is a literal demon spawn, but he’ll still yell at her for what she did to you

He can’t forgive her, turning his back on her and not even bothering to watch the execution

He stayed in his room for a few days, barely opening the door to anyone except Yuki

He is actually nicer to Hibiki, and even helps train and comfort her with all she’s been through

but there’s there a part of him that can’t help but think about what would’ve happen if he done this sooner, if he would have met your fate

The thought makes his stomach churn

Hajime Makunouchi:

Falls to his knees upon seeing the body

He nearly vomits at the way the face on your decapitated head was twisted in terror and your limbs were contorted as if you were nothing more than a doll

Hajime doesn’t feel angry, he just feels… sad.

Abandoned…once again.

He finds himself sobbing, unable to stop

He just felt so alone, but he told himself not to blame you, you hadn’t left him, not on purpose

He can’t investigate… he just can’t…

Ironic, that the strongest person in the class never felt so weak

Another part of him feels guilty, of all those times he talked you into training, into eating healthier foods… what was the point of all that when you were going to die so young?

He can’t say anything to Kanade, he can just glare at her through his sunglasses, his void eyes coming to life

He watches her execution, but he can’t bring himself to smile or feel happy

It just makes him feel….empty

He actively avoids Hibiki, but he’ll try not to treat her any differently

He confronts Nikei about turning against Mikado

Syobai Hashimoto:

Syobai wasn't attached to a lot and he rarely let anyone get close to him

But he made an exception for you

That's what you were, the exception

He was never loved by anyone in his life

Except you

He never cared about anything other than money and his own survival

Except you

He never fell in love with someone before

Except you

He never felt such sadness and grief when seeing a corpse

Except you.

The moment he saw your corpse, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, a pain unlike any he had felt before

Followed by a tsunami of emotions that were running wild

He forced them all down, much harder to do than ever and investigated your body

He found the culprit easily, charging Kanade with his knife almost immediately

She was quick but not quick enough, he left her within an inch of her life while Hibiki screamed and cried

He used his own medical knowledge to keep her alive for the trial, no matter how hard he wanted to end her right there

He smiled when she was voted, everyone understanding Syobai's actions

He doesn’t care about Kanade's backstory, he hates her for killing you, that's it

He won't hurt Hibiki, knowing Kanade would probably like that, but he glares at her anytime she's in the room with him

Yuri Kagarin:

He claimed it was a male the whole trial, only a male would be capable of doing this to you

When he found out it was sweet Kanade, his views shattered

"W-Why...?" That’s all he can ask, and when she explains, he wishes he kept quiet

You were gruesomely murdered because of your kindness, and how you befriended and comforted a scared and paranoid girl

Kanade was a demon through and through who took pleasure causing pain in others

Only then did he realize what you were always trying to say, about all males not always being bad, funny how the message only got through when he learned the opposite

If Hibiki isn't executed alongside her, he wouldn't ever directly blame her for the person her sister was

But he'll never be able to look at her without thinking of the monster who killed you

Mikado Sannoji:

This wasn't supposed to happen.

That's the first thought that crosses his mind, out of everyone here, you were supposed to make it to the end

He'd think it was Nikei, being the only void who would dare to do this, but even Nikei is not that psychotic

This was someone that made him look like a saint

He contributes everything during the trial, ignoring when people tell him to be quiet

They don't get to tell him that, not after his S/o was dead

When he learns of Kanade, he feels angry, at both her and himself

He could have figured Kanade's past out if he had just dug a little deeper...

He lightly avoids Hibiki, but doesn't make much of an effort to push her away,

Not like anyone else besides you would ever willingly talk to him

Nikei Yomiuri:

God damn it...

Why?!

Rage. He can only feel raw unhindered rage when he sees your mutilated corpse

The whole trial, he thought Mikado was the only bastard messed up enough to do this, there's no way anyone in void would do this to him

To kill the one thing he had left

His leadership, his power, his luck (the whole reason he was pressured into creating this messed up game)

And now he lost you, the one thing he achieved without the use of his remaining luck

And now you were gone in one of the most messed up ways possible

He demands Kanade's reasons for doing this to you, and only feels more disgusted when he finds out

He hopes she burns in hell

He can't look at Hibiki without his void eyes flaring and his face being consumed by undeniable rage

He lashes out at her a few times, but he doesn't care

He uses the rest of the space in his notepad to write about you

He's not sure if your dead in the real world, but if you were, then he wanted some way for the world to know the kind of person you are

Because he knows for a fact that he's not making it out of here alive

He just hopes he can bring Mikado down with him

#nikei yomiuri #shinji kasai #mikado sannoji #yuki maeda #yuri kagarin #hajime makunouchi #teruya otori #syobai hashimoto #sdra2 x reader #sdra2

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scoonsalicious · 9 days

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since I can't insert any images while on anon, just imagine me reading this, and in between every paragraph, groaning in disappointment and frustration and then dropping my face against the table. Or maybe just putting my phone down and yelling into my pillow for every bad decision made...which is a lot, to say the least. I'm attacking this by part so I don't miss anything but also fo expect something long hahaha

Well, Bad Decision #1 (unfortunately. I hate that's its just #1. also BRANDON. I'm not saying that name has anything to do with me but I got confused for a second because that's what I've been calling Bucket sometimes so I was like? Bucky? lol), more like Bad Dick #1 ha ha. Anyway. I honestly wasn't surprised that he turned out to be horrendous at that LMAO. I mean, he's young and arrogant and on top of that, disrespectful and disgusting. While I don't condone violence, I mean, with how he was acting, he kinda deserved that dick twist. Was it too much? Probably. I thought so at first then I realized that he's probably done this to other girls before, and most of them didn't have the training Pocket had so it probably had gone worse so that was perfectly fine by me. Also her blurting out a Bucket's name during made me wince because yikes that's always embarrassing but I wasn't surprised. She was imagining him. And ha! you got to insert the "Who the hell is Bucky?" line! I absolutely read that the same way he said it in CA:CW. iconic line. Will probably set that as my ringtone.

But Pocket's last line about feeling disgusted but empowered at the same time and then wondering if that's how Banjo felt, left a little sour taste in my mouth. I mean, I'm no mathematician but 2 wrongs ain't gonna make 1 right. And I can already tell that was a power trip for her where she feels like she's finally in control of her sexuality for once and that she's not the one being used and hurting this time. That can only mean she's going to crave it some more, which, I mean, in the next part it was stated that it had become a routine at this point. The problem is, she's never going to be satisfied. No matter if they look like Bryce, they're never going to be him on so many levels. One: his dick game is supersoldier strong in both skill and size. Two: he took the time to know Pocket and her body pretty well and how to satisfy her needs. Three: well, she loves him. I'd argue sex with someone you love will always feel better than just casual sex (maybe I'm just a sap but anyway) you can't really get all of the above with random strangers. So now, she's always going to crave that power with no real satisfaction in the end.

Now, Sam...he's trying so hard to get through to her and he did make some great points. They are on a mission, there are lives at risk here so it's not only herself she's putting in danger. So her going out randomly and drinking without any communication is so reckless, and dare I say, selfish because who knows what could've happened to her. But she's so far gone now, unfortunately :( She definitely wasn't ready for this mission and she absolutely wasn't in the right headspace for it no matter how much she said she could handle it. I truly did think if Tony knew what happened to her in full, he never would've offered this in the first place. I mean, Bojack tried to stop her and I kinda saw how it was out of concern for her well-being, but, he did come off a little jealous and possessive on top of what he's done so, so that canceled his opinion. Still, I wish someone would've stopped it, but then again, if someone did, we wouldn't have this story haha. Now, the two of them being the ones to look into Hydra again though, I don't know how I feel about it. But then again, they are the ones who know Hydra the most. Still, I don't trust Jeremiah. I still do think she's a spy.

Now with what happened in that room. It's so hard to see all these innocent girls who are just trying to get by on life be taken advantage of. Obviously Pocket meant well, but she did come off as a little all-knowing when she scolded Chloe. Pocket was right of course, an 18-year-old shouldn't be there at all. But she went about it wrong. I also can't blame her because she probably felt so panicked and scared for her and these girls. But now, Pocket taking two lines right off the bat I just...that's one way to hit rock bottom running I supposed. She did it to spare one girl which is great but, at what cost? I could argue that now she's put herself in a vulnerable position where she wouldn't be able to help any of them. It was a good solution at the moment but in the long run? I mean, she couldn't even remember much of what happened while she was intoxicated, so she didn't even really get much information. I mean she said it herself, she's probably jeopardized the mission. But now, she's feeling free from all the pain and anger and hurt, so what happens after that? She'll crave that moment of peace even more. That's how she relapses. She thinks the drugs are going to be a great escape and that could only end so so badly.

I have a feeling where's still on our ride down this hole and we haven't exactly reached rock bottom yet. And I could nothing but watch and be in it for the ride. Amazing as always! Super grateful for you and for giving us three parts today. Sending you love always!

— Jnon 🤍

Dearest Jnon, Do we share a brain from opposite sides of the world?

I shall address your points by point. I'm sorry I named him Brandon-- I should have avoided a 'B' name, but when I wrote it, I had NO IDEA your beautiful trend would have taken such hold, lol. I just chose one of the most generic, boring names I could think of, lol. And it helped her fantasy that his name starts with a 'B,' too. She thinks she's trying to fuck the memory of Bucky out of her, but the truth is, she misses him; she wants it to be him, to go back to a time and place before he hurt her. She's searching for something to make her feel the way he made her feel (I'll come back to this).

I definitely don't condone The Dick Twist. I think it points to just how off the rails she is at the moment, and I wrote it as her having a trauma response to when he grabbed her. Like, she's only concerned about herself right now, and protecting her wellbeing, both physically and emotionally, and at a kind of throw-back moment where she's being manhandled against her will, she experiences a bit of PTSD. Hence, The Dick Twist (TM). One of the things I wanted to make sure I did with Pocket was ensure she wasn't a "perfect" reader insert. I wanted her to be a full fledged, rounded character all on her own, which means making bad choices and doing questionable things. I don't necessarily think Brandon is some kind of sexual predator who does this kind of thing often; I think he was enticed by the idea of guaranteed sex from a hot, older chick, and then got pissed when he realized he was just being used as a substitute for someone else, and he wasn't going to get anything out of it. He reacted the way I'd expect an immature, selfish college boy would react (how I've seen them react, unfortunately). And yes! Absolute intentional throwback to CA:TWS! It's, without a doubt, my favorite line of dialog in the entire story, lol.

She absolutely SHOULD NOT have gone on this mission, you're right. And if Tony had known the extent of her pain, he never would have sent her. If he knew what she was doing, he'd blame himself, profusely. But, her pride, and her false sense of being over her trauma, kept her from telling the one person she trusts implicitly.

Going to her last line, about feeling disgusted with herself and yet empowered, I definitely didn't make this clear enough, but it has less to do with Bucky than it does with the men who abused her throughout her childhood. She's lumped Bucky in with them at this point (because of him denying her consent after he slept with Jade), and she views her actions against Brandon as taking a kind of revenge on every man who hurt her, not just Bucky (I'm sticking with his actual name so as not to cause confusion with actual Brandon, lol). That's why she feels empowered, but she knows it was wrong, which is why she's disgusted. If that wasn't clear, that's my failure as a writer, and for that I'm sorry. Yes, it was definitely a power trip, feeling in control. She barely mentions it in one of the earliest chapters, but she was fairly promiscuous once she escaped her parents, in a way to reclaim sex for herself (and not panic every time she had it), and she's repeating that behavior here. She's reclaiming it after the way she feels Bucky violated her. It's something she's going to keep doing, but without the violence. We're actually not going to see any more of her "conquests," fortunately, but she keeps searching for someone to make her feel the way Bucky made her feel.

So, coming back to that: It's not going to happen for her, exactly for all the reasons you mentioned. The biggest is #3: She loves him. No amount of strange dick is going to compare to that. Like, they weren't just lovers, they were best friends. Her feelings for him are deep. She thinks that, because she was able to basically fuck herself out of her trauma in the past, she can do it again, but it's an entirely new kind of trauma, with such a powerful emotional component, and it's not going to work for her this time.

Her behavior is extremely selfish, definitely, and it's absolutely going to affect the mission, starting with what happened in that room. With Chloe, Pocket saw herself (and I'll spoil a little something-- Chloe isn't 18), and she panicked, wanting to protect this girl from falling into her old life, but it came out condescending, especially without Chloe knowing anything about Pocket's history. It just made Pocket seem cruel, but it was coming from a place of fear.

I confess, writing this chapter was so fucking depressing for me, I wanted it over with as soon as possible, so I did kind of go for making her hit rock bottom right away. I didn't want to keep her in this space for a second longer than I had to. She definitely put herself in a vulnerable position (as the next part will show) and put the entire mission (and something else) in jeopardy due to her actions, and she'll carry that with her for the rest of the fic.

The spiral-down will continue, but I honestly don't detail it. Like I said, it was hurting my heart, so I felt it was enough to show her get there, then just kind of describe how it continues for a bit. I want the best for our girl, and I hated putting her in this position. But she's tough. It sucks, but she needs to go through this so she can actually process the trauma of her childhood. She thought she had, but until now, she's just repressed it.

Thank you, as always, for your insightful thoughts and theories. I love reading your take things! I love you!

#unwanted #jnon report

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lyukablau · 1 year

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Kunikida x F!Reader: Leave it to me.

Summary: Kunikida takes care of you during and after your surgery. Type: Headcanon, fluff, comfort. A/n: Hello!!! Sorry for not being here recently. I had been through a lot of things and it took more time than I thought to recover but anyway! I'm back! Maybe I won't be here often because there are only two months before the final exam and I have to study harder. So..... Enjoy!

You have to hospitalize to treat your illness. It was getting hurter for a few days ago to the point that lack of sleep, didn't have much appetite and had terrible stomachaches.

At first, both of you just thought that you had eaten something and it tortured your stomach, thought that some painkillers and hot soup would have done somehow.

Until yesterday, Kunikida knew that something was wrong. The pain didn't go away but was getting worse. He couldn't stand seeing you suffer such in pain, medicines didn't work too, so he took you to the hospital right in the middle of the night.

The nurses immediately took you away to check up on you, left Kunikida to fill in the necessary paper.

He waited for you, anxiety and worry slowly grew in him. He kept checking the time, did some research about your symptoms but couldn't focus much.

Kunikida stood up straight, couldn't help the concern on his face when a nurse pull the wheelchair for you, who was sitting on it.

You seem to feel much better thanks to the painkiller slowly running through your vein. You forced a smile toward Kunikida, he quickly took the nurse's place and went to meet your doctor.

"She is having a tumor in her stomach". Kunikida's heart dropped to the floor, filled with shock and fear of losing you. "Please don't worry. It hasn't gotten that bad. If she takes the surgery tomorrow afternoon everything will be okay. We've already prepared a room for her to stay, all the papers also had filled so don't need to worry much".

Kunikida helped you go back to your room. After you changed, you saw him talking to someone on the phone. He said that he will take some days off from tomorrow. Kunikida reassures you that you don't have to worry about his work, that all you need to do is take care of yourself.

Kunikida went to the operating room with you and some nurses. He didn't let go of your hand, circling it with his thumb, telling you that he is always by your side.

"I love you", Kunikida whispers to you before the door closed. His eyes kept watching you through the small mirror on the door, hoping that you will be fine.

The blonde man was waiting for you, he didn't care how long it was. Your images, your smile, your voice, the memories of you running in his mind like a movie. He has sworn on his life, on his ideal, to protect and make you happy. If he loses you, he couldn't forgive himself for being careless about your pain.

The light turned off. A surgeon came out, took off his mask and Kunikida politely stopped him, wanted to know your state.

"She had gone through the surgery successfully. She was so strong and brave all that time. She is still asleep due to the anesthetic but you can see her".

Kunikida thanked the surgeon and walked fast to see his love. You had been transferred back to your room by another route earlier.

Kunikida sighed in relief when he saw you sleeping peacefully. He strokes your hair, adjusts them and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

When you woke up, Kunikida was already by your bed. "You're finally awake, how do you feel?", "Can't...move".

"It's okay, you should lay still. I'm here. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Doppo..."

"What is it?"

"I love you"

"Yeah, I love you too. Get some rest, you're fine now"

Kunikida didn't allow himself to have a deep sleep at night, you may call him when you don't feel well and can't sleep. He couldn't hear you if he sleeps too well.

He helped you drink water by lifting your head. He walked with you so you will get used to walking again after surgery, even though you are going slowly like a turtle, it doesn't matter. Recovery takes time.

The second day after the operation, Kunikida wiped your body with a wet towel. He finally has a chance to look closely at your stomach. Bandages wrapped around your belly, and under the bandages is the cut that had been left on your beautiful skin.

Kunikida makes sure to comfort you whenever you feel insecure about your body, telling you that you're a beautiful, strong and brave woman.

His colleagues at ADA also visit you. Kunikida knocked down Dazai because he was too noisy, Yosano offered to treat you, Atsushi asked if you still hurt and Kyouka let you borrow her bunny. Ranpo spared you some sweets and the Tanizaki brothers bring flowers for you (and some works for Kunikida).

Fortunately, your tumor was benign, they said you can go home after two more days.

Kunikida finally can take you home. He noticed you have been bored and sometimes show 'home-sick' expressions, when you got home, he has a lot of things on his mind for you to follow until you are FULLY recovered (good luck).

Most of the time Kunikida won't let you do anything, including change clothes. "It will damage your surgery cut" is his favorite line when you want to do something or help him.

At night, Kunikida will leave some light around the house just in case you go to the bathroom so you don't have to find and turn them on. Also avoid any hurt you got from the corner of the table, etc...

You have to stop him when he asked to help you bathe. If you insist, he has no choice but let you, but he will guard you at the door outside until you have done bathing. The last thing he wanted is you tripped and fell in the bathroom, in your not fully healed state.

After two weeks or more, you can get back to work and Kunikida will take you to the workplace. If you're an agency member, he is always going to the agency with you. If you aren't, Kunikida will drive you.

Kunikida doesn't want to lose you, he will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, healthy and happy. You are his lover, his everything and his ideal. And what is he doing with his ideal? Protect it.

#kunikida x reader #kunikida doppo #bsd kunikida #kunikida comfort #bsd anime #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader

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arya--donovan · 1 year

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Over the past week, Arya had been on a roll with making all of the wrong choices.

Almost immediately afterwards, she came to the realization that she had made a mistake. By then, however, it was too late, the damage had already been done. The first of those mistakes came when she started second guessing her relationship with Warren. It wasn't like much had changed since she had seen him last during Christmas and the new year, but she had gotten it into her head that he was pulling away from her. Convinced that their relationship had been losing its spark… Or that was what she told herself to make herself feel better about the entire situation. Truthfully, their relationship hadn't lost anything. It had been as strong as it had always been, it was the distance and the uncertainty that spurred her on. Ivon's reappearance in her life didn't help matters either.

As horrible as it was to admit it, even just to herself, Arya knew now that she had broken things off with Warren because at that moment in time, she felt lonely. It was pathetic. As soon as they had ended the call, and their relationship, Arya realized how severely she had fucked up. Her heart felt as if it had burst into a thousand little pieces. Going into the conversation, she had been so sure of herself, but seeing Warren's face during that call, hearing the hurt in his voice and seeing it on his face…those images and his words were on an endless loop in her mind from that point forward.

She tried her best to slap a smile onto her face and push through, wanting to believe that this would be what was best for them, Warren was free now, he could meet someone he could actually have something with. Someone he could actually physically be with. Not someone who he didn't know when he'd ever see next. The idea of Warren moving on hurt like hell and then the texts from Adriel came and her already shattered heart disintegrated entirely.

It was an accumulation of things that had pushed her to leave her home, seeking the comfort of her past, someone who wouldn't make her feel like shit and for a few days, that's exactly what she got. Right up until she got ahead of herself, oversharing with someone who she should have known better than to ever share illegal happenings with. If she had truly thought about it, she never would have told Ivon about knowing the whereabouts of her brother, but she was venting and it all came out at once. Much too quickly for her to take it back or correct herself. When she realized what she had done and once Ivon had told her he was going to have to report it, Arya's entire world seemed to fall apart all at once.

First she had lost the man she loved more than she had ever loved anyone for idiotic reasons of her own doing and now she was going to lose her entire family. Fuck. She didn't even bother with her luggage, just took the essentials and left the hotel as quickly as she could. She didn't even know if she would have enough time to make it to the airport, let alone have enough time to make a phone call. So she used what little time she likely had to call her big brother, Ace on the line that was restricted to emergencies only. She knew the number by heart. The second he answered, she started talking.

"Ace, I really fucked up. I did something stupid and told the secret. I didn't tell exact details, but Ivon knows I know where they are. He said he's going to turn me in. I'm in Seattle right now, heading to the airport, I don't know if I'll have the chance to make it home." Arya knew that he was going to be pissed, but she also knew that out of all of her brothers, he was the one who would be able to make sure that Adriel, Cataleya, and Warren made it out of the situation safely and that he'd inform everyone else of what was going on in a timely manner. No matter how Ace appeared to others, Arya knew her brother better than that, if anyone could find a way to clean up the mess she had made, it would be him.

At Ace's request, she launched into the explanation of what she had told Ivon, realizing as she spoke, just how badly she had fucked up. While she had been careful not to say specific names, she had specified that it was one of her brothers who had helped in arranging the family get together. She had divulged that they had all been there, so they all knew. She hadn't only exposed herself, but her entire family. "I know how bad this is, Ace. I'm sorry. If I get taken in for questioning, I'm not saying anything. You know I would never do that. I'll do what I can to make this right. I promise." Ace's following words were dismissive, drenched in anger, but she knew she deserved it. The call ended just as she was arriving at the airport. She did as her brother had told her to, praying that she would at least make it back to LA before all hell fully broke loose.

#Arya narrative #Following Ivon's post #Continued via Ace

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lizhly-writes · 2 months

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hi there. this is absolutely not what i meant to post buuuuuut i didn't finish what i actually wanted to post, so have this (which I also didn't finish) instead. haaaappy late valentine's day.

“So?”

“...I don’t know why you want to hear this kind of thing.”

“But you’ll tell me anyway, right?”

“I’d rather not.”

“But...?”

“Yes, fine, whatever.”

...

Yang Haoran honestly wished that he had a less accurate recollection of how his first ten kisses went, primarily because saying that he remembered exactly how his first ten kisses went made it seem like he was the kind of person who sentimentally and obsessively kept count of every time someone locked lips with him.

It was, he felt, an inaccurate representation of how he was as a person. After all, it was easy to remember your first ten kisses if 1) they were all with the same person 2) they happened pretty much all at once.

...Well, in any case, his first kiss had gone like this: he had been studying in his room, the very picture of a dutiful high school student. At some point, Jiang Mingxi had walked in.

"Hi, Mingxi," Yang Haoran said. "Hey, do you know if --"

"Kiss me," Jiang Mingxi demanded.

...

"Seriously?" Chen Lihua said, in a way that would probably break her fans' public perception of her if they ever saw it. Her image was pure, sweet, wholesome -- there wasn't really much room for maniacal gleefulness.

"Seriously," Yang Haoran said dryly.

Chen Lihua leaned in, eyes bright, chin propped on her hands, the very picture of an eager gossip. "She really just said that?"

"It was the first thing she said to me all day."

"Wow. No lead in, no build up, no mood. Aren't you supposed to have some kind of romantic atmosphere for this? Ah, wait, you two were already engaged at that point, right? So were you already in a relationship or --"

"That would make sense, wouldn’t it."

...

Yang Haoran blinked. He blinked again.

But no matter how hard he blinked, Jiang Mingxi was still standing in his doorway, the echo of her words still lingering in the air. Arms crossed, jaw tensed, expression belligerent. She look like she was ready to kick his ass. She did not look like she wanted to kiss him.

And yet.

He marked his place in his workbook and closed it, since clearly nothing was going to get done with Jiang Mingxi occupying his attention like this. "I didn't know you were interested in this kind of thing.”

They were going to get married. That was a fact. That was also years in the future. Any romance in their relationship was hypothetical at best. Their current relationship could be accurately described as "childhood friends mostly because their parents were friends and kept pushing them together".

The most romantic thing Jiang Mingxi had ever told him was that his face looked "okay, I guess".

Yang Haoran thought about it. The obvious answer occurred to him near-instantly. "Did you lose a bet or something?" he said cheerily.

"No," Jiang Mingxi growled. "Why would you think I lost a -- am I not allowed to be interested on my own?"

"Interested in... kissing," Yang Haoran said skeptically. “You think about kissing people?” Jiang Mingxi had, to him, always seemed like she was gearing up to be one of those strong independent women who didn’t need men. Even that seemed like an understatement. Jiang Mingxi rarely showed interest in anyone at all, man or not.

“Who’s people, I think about kissing you,” Jiang Mingxi snapped, and then immediately looked like she regretted saying anything out loud at all. She was starting to turn red. On other people, this might have been cute. On Jiang Mingxi, it could be cute, but also probably meant she was going to commit violence sometime soon.

“... Me, in particular?” Yang Haoran ventured. “Regularly?”

I think and not I was thinking. The first implied a pattern; that Jiang Mingxi considered kissing him more than once --- that she apparently thought about it often enough that she had to bring it up with him outside her mind to excise it.

He was feeling...some kind of way about this.

Jiang Mingxi crossed her arms. "You're my fiance, am I supposed to be kissing anyone other than you?"

...Oh, well, now he was feeling back to normal about this.

Yang Haoran propped his chin up on one hand. "So you're saying it really could have been anyone, but I'm actually your only real option because I’m your fiance."

"That’s not--” Jiang Mingxi made a frustrated noise. “Why are you saying it like that. Why are you making it sound so bad.”

“I’m not making it sound bad.”

...

“You made it sound bad,” Chen Lihua said.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Yang Haoran said.

#my writing #transmigrated as the female lead's villain fiance #yang haoran #jiang mingxi #am going to have to reblog with part 2 at some point #...eventually #probably

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larkawolfgirl · 1 month

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Distant Scent of Flowers (Clerifa)

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F, F/M, Multi Fandoms: Compilation of Final Fantasy VIIFinal Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997) Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife, Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife Characters: Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart Additional Tags: Grief/Mourning, Developing Relationship, Feelings Realization, Canonical Character Death

Summary: Cloud and Tifa bond through grief, confessions, and a promise.

Read on ao3

The river continued playing its happy murmuring song despite the sorrow flowing from its banks. A silent Cloud and Tifa sat on the bank with their shoulders almost touching gazing out at the wildflowers dancing in the breeze across the water. The blossoms, vibrant against the green landscape, seemed a world away—just as Aerith was.

Cloud watched Tifa’s fingers trace a pattern in the dirt. Without a word, he reached out, covering her hand with his own, attempting to offer her any semblance of comfort he could. Their fingers laced together, a silent pact of support through their shared grief.

As the light began to fade, turning the open sky purple, the pair remained still, anchored in place by the weight of their loss. Cloud could feel the tension in Tifa’s grip, her strength mingling with his own, and in that touch, an unspoken understanding passed between them. They were fighters, but in this quiet moment, they allowed themselves to be vulnerable.

His eyes met Tifa’s, seeing his torment reflected.

Cloud wouldn’t have dared allow himself to falter if it was anyone else—save Aerith herself—but this was Tifa. Cloud rarely felt secure enough to let down his hardened persona, but ever since their reunion, Tifa had assured him in not so many words that she was a safe space. Besides, she had already seen him cry—they all had—his feelings having ripped him open from the inside out.

But Tifa also cried. As did the others, but that wasn’t important.

The cool breeze carried the scent of flowers and it recalled an image of Aerith tending to her flower garden back in Midgar. She had been so happy, so carefree, so beautiful. He could clearly see her smile which would never again light up the dark places in his heart. His heart ached knowing that one day he might forget how she looked, let alone how she smiled.

“Remember how she would always talk to flowers as if they might talk back?” he asked, hoping Tifa’s voice would soothe the tightness in his chest.

The fighter nodded, her lips curving in response as the memory surfaced. “I asked her once and she said they were alive, so they deserved the same common courtesy as anyone else.” Tifa let out the ghost of a laugh. “Not sure if courtesy and asking how their day’s been are the same thing, though.”

Cloud’s gaze returned to the flowers dancing in the breeze. The way they moved; it almost did look like they had sentience. “Maybe she had a point. She would know better than any of us.”

Tifa hummed, and when Cloud looked at her again, her expression had softened. “Yes, she was... extraordinary. Sure, she was an Ancient, but she was special just because of who she was.”

“Yeah. She never cared what anyone else thought.” A far cry from himself. She had shown him what freedom looked like.

“She was brave.”

Cloud squeezed her hand. “So are you.”

Tifa shook her head. “I’m strong, but she was never afraid to do what needed to be done. Not when she infiltrated the Don’s mansion or sacrificed herself for Marlene or even now.” She paused, swallowing a fresh wave of grief. “Remember the first time it rained after we left Midgar?”

Of course, he remembered. How could he forget? The way Aerith had shrieked in surprise at the first raindrop. Even though she claimed to hate the sky, she grinned when she saw it covered in misty clouds. Rain had soaked through her dress, leaving her cold and drenched, even so, she grinned and spread her arms wide to catch as many droplets as she could. She had twirled around, creating her own version of a rain dance, laughter spilling from her throat.

“I’ve never seen her look so alive.”

“Me neither.,” Tifa said. “I wish I could be like her. She lived life to the fullest, always knowing that it might be her last day of freedom, and she was willing to give it up for the sake of others, even people she never met.” The martial artist paused, rubbing her fingers over a strand of grass. “She was…a hero.”

There was a moment of silence as if the air itself held its breath for her next words. “She was more than that for me, though.”

Cloud studied her, sensing a shift in her tone.

Her hands fell into her lap, and she drew a deep breath, steadying herself. Her voice could barely be heard over the murmur of the river. “I didn’t just admire her,” she confessed. “She was more than a friend. I didn’t understand, but now...”

Cloud’s body froze, unsure how to respond. His brow furrowed as a battlefield of emotions played out—empathy, remorse, loyalty, loss, affection—all clamoring for recognition. He had always been the sword, the protector. That role was straightforward. Figuring out what role to play now was obscure.

The stillness of the riverbank seemed to absorb her words, leaving a silence so profound that even the rustling wildflowers hushed their whispers. The unfinished revelation hung between them, a delicate truth that needed to be handled with care.

“Cloud?” The sound of Tifa’s fragile voice sliced through his introspection.

Slowly, he took her hand again, this time with a soft, loose grip. “I understand,” he said. “I think, maybe, she was the same for me.”

Tifa leaned closer and tilted her head. “Maybe?”

Cloud turned back to the wildflowers, suddenly feeling too shy to see her immediate reaction. “I wasn’t sure either. Because…of you.”

Then she was there in front of him. She was close, so close he could feel the warmth of her breath. “And now? Have you figured out your feelings?” Her hand trembled slightly within his grasp, but she did not pull away. The question hung in the air, as delicate as flower petals.

Cloud felt the weight of her gaze, heavy with hope and fear. He could see the subtle tremble of her lips, the vulnerability she rarely showed. It was more than a question; it was a plea for understanding, for solidarity.

He knew what he felt for Tifa was real, just as real as the pain and affection they both harbored for Aerith. But putting that mixture of sentiment into words was the greatest foe he had faced. Time seemed to slow as Cloud’s pause stretched into eternity. His eyes, clouded by the emotions warring in his chest, searched Tifa’s face for guidance. His chest twisted tighter with each passing second, and in the silence that followed her question, his gaze lingered on the soft worry lines that framed her eyes—eyes that had seen too much pain yet still held a glimmer of hope.

“Before,” Cloud started, his voice barely audible, “everything was... unclear.” He shook his head as though to clear away the fog of uncertainties hanging over him. His eyes anchored themselves to Tifa’s, finding a steadfast trust in their depths. Almost involuntarily, he lifted their entwined hands, almost touching her cheek before catching himself. “I still don’t have everything figured out, but I know what I feel for you, Tifa. Losing Aerith... it’s sharpened everything, made me see what’s been in front of me all along.” Although soft, Cloud’s voice carried the weight of newfound clarity.

Tifa’s breath caught, her eyes, wide and shimmering with a hopeful sheen, never left his face, seeking out the words yet unspoken.

Turning toward her fully, Cloud allowed a rare, gentle smile. It softened the hard lines battle had etched into his youthful face. “Losing Aerith without ever fully expressing my feelings... it tore something inside of me.” His blue eyes darkened with regret. “Losing her made me realize life is too short to question yourself. I don’t want to lose you the way I did her, especially without having told you the truth.”

A slow exhale escaped her lips. “Which is?”

He chose his words carefully. “That you mean more to me than a friend.”

She returned his gentle smile. “So do you. You both did.”

His voice lowered again, this time with sincerity rather than doubt. “Having feelings for Aerith doesn’t change the feelings we have for each other. I understand that now.”

“I always knew how I felt about you,” she began hesitantly. “But with Aerith... it was different. I only realized what she meant to me now that she’s gone.” Her voice trailed off. “But you seemed to understand you had feelings for both of us for some time now.”

Cloud’s free hand clenched at his side. “I suppose I did. But no matter how much I tried to I couldn’t choose between you two.”

Tifa’s brow furrowed with the unspoken truth that he couldn’t choose now. Her voice was comforting when she replied, “What matters is that we’ve shared something special with Aerith and we still have each other. We don’t have to measure our feelings. Aerith brought out the best in us. We’ll carry her with us, together.”

Cloud felt his barriers melt beneath her profound words.

Tifa moved closer, resting her head against his shoulder. The weight of her grounded him in the present moment. It hurt, but their love would move them forward.

A breeze swept through with the scent of Aerith’s favorite flowers—ones absent from the riverbank. It was as if the lifestream, or Aerith herself, was assuring them of her eternal presence. She would never truly be gone. She would live on within the lifestream, within the beauty of the world she had loved, and within the hearts of those who cherished her memory.

Cloud’s arms wrapped around Tifa, drawing her into an embrace. She held him back with a firm grasp. The warmth of their bodies served as a reminder of the life they still held.

“Let’s promise,” Tifa’s voice was a whisper, yet it carried conviction, “to honor her memory in everything we do. To strive to live our lives with the same courage she did.”

Cloud felt the vibration of her words through his chest, sparking a flame within the void left by grief. “And we’ll protect each other with all of our strength,” he agreed.

As their promise was made, the river flowed ceaselessly beside them, a symbol of time’s relentless march. Yet as Cloud and Tifa sat there, locked in their embrace, they found a sense of permanence. As long as they had each other, they would love, they would endure, and they would remember.

#cloti #cloud x tifa #clerifa #ffvii #final fantasy vii #cloud x aerith x tifa #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #ff #final fantasy #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing

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