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#perhaps there are things not worth fighting for. perhaps i'm not

icewindandboringhorror · 1 year

Text

Daily Log 2

Trying out (probably just temporarily) making short daily-ish notes about things, in an attempt to see if it helps me be more reflective or productive lol.

Activities: Much less than yesterday, felt sick and sleepy so barely got anything done. It was also warmer inside today.. Very much dreading summer. I still feel like the people who ~~ love warm weather sooo much~~ must also have central heating and air and are able to escape the warmth, or at least have cool airy houses where they can get cross breezes or something.. I just fail to see how ANYONE could enjoy sweating all day because it's like 75F indoors, etc. grrbb,,, the headaches, sleepless sweaty nights, constant physical discomfort, etc. The next few days look cloudy and rainy though so.. yEs.. haha HA

Got a new charger for my old 2004 nokia phone so it actually turns on now, and recorded myself going through the ringtones and games. I might add the footage to a currently not fully edited video of me also looking through other electronics (old phones, turbo twist math, etc.). I love old ringtones actually and if I were rich, I would love to collect old phones specifically just to have a catalogue of what they're like and all of the sounds they contain.

Managed to have a tiny burst of energy and take photos of 3 outfits before my arms and shoulder started hurting and I got too warm.

Sent email to one doctor.

Translated like 3 words for the Avirrekava poem thing I mentioned yesterday. My language document is not organized very well at all so I've kind of lost my flow of working on it. I've heard about people making searchable dictionary type things for their conlangs, so I'd like to look more into that maybe. As well as making a custom font, though I don't know if that's more difficult for syllabaries (so wouldn't be directly linkable to a plain english alphabet keyboard?? eh?). Anyway, I need to finish the tapestry/painting thing/etc. soon though since I have no good place to put it. The canvas is warping a little just laying haphazardly on my closet floor lol.

Made one quick mspaint background image for the next batch of song snippet things for my jokey music youtube.

Edited like 10 minutes of the Giant Worldbuilding Slideshow Project.. couldn't focus on that either since being at the computer today irritated my shoulders and arms.

Notable sights: Saw 6 baby ducks and their parents swimming in a nearby pond!! It's interesting how their colors seem to change so much, and the young ones have the little spots on their back. Not much else, I was not very active lol..

Goals moving forward: Still working on consistent sleep schedule. Focus on social activities, finding new friends in the places I want to move, communicating with ones I have. Physical therapy exercises. Plant nasturtiums. Finish and upload videos, edit pictures, post the poll adventure thing that has been sitting in a draft for weeks (I thought I would get it done today, but alas.. I don't even have to do much, just proofread and post it, I just keep having no energy/being preoccupied with other things/hurts to be on computer.. grrr.. I want to continue the story lol >:T).

Notable foods: HAD ASPARAGUS YEaaaaaghhhHHHH!!!!!!!!! Asparagus SQUAD!!!!!!!!!! ... Also a few pieces of smoked gouda with lunch, one of my favorite cheeses.

#just posting these publicly since it feels more like I'm doing something or easier to hold yourself accountable if you make public #declarations of goals and progress or etc. .. perhaps.. for now..#I'm just curious to see if it helps. I know some poeple do diary style stuff or etc. on social media to help with productivity so #worth trying for like a week at least lol #tired and sleepy of being tired and sleepy though. Every day that stuff like chronic health problems or weather or etc.#interfere with me getting stuff done and it's all stuff that I've also had on my todo list for like.. weeks at this point it's like.. oughh #insurmountable tasks ever looming piling upon my shoulderes...#I've been 'supposed to call a lab to shedule blood work' for like a week and a half now and everyday I get the number #out and look at it and just go 'hmm.... sooon...' and then suddenly it's 10pm and I didn't #You Know How It Is Folks. I'm going to write myself a script of exactly what to say and also tape it to my computer screen #Sometimes that helps. lol #I dont' feel like I need a full on caretaker or something at this point but someitmes I do think like.. in a few years with my various #physical and mental issues it would be nice to have a Person Who Functions Normally Socially come visit me like once #every two weeks to help me plan things and make phone calls. Same with creative stuff too though. I bet I'd be doing something creative as #a career by now if I had like. an Assigned Neurotypical Extrovert to network for me and help me navigate things like that bjhbhj #hashtag hermit problems. etc. etc. (not just like 'a little weird and asocial' but like.. 'near complete inability to function in society'#type hermit problems lol..#ANYWAY.. ..#Also fighting the urge to have another personality typing phase. I can feel it creeping up. My 'once every 3 months when I get very #interested in the enneagram and other stuff again' type of thing. distracting myself with worldbuilding paintings instead ghgj #why don't you do a phone call for your blood work first maybe then you can spend 3 hours reading about tritypes or whatever #I have so many interests and hobbies but a handful of Main Ones and they never go away I just seem to take turns with them #Except worldbuilding I think that's always there. Genuinely again.. wish I could find some way to work that into a career. that is the only #thing I could to 1000 hours straight at any time of day under any circumstance. Kidnap me and lock me in a basement and I will be passing #my time thinking about what type of cheese elves make and all the things I'm going to write once I escape captivity ghjhj #EVEYRHTING else though lol.. kind of comes and goes. but can be annoying when it's suddenly the only thing my mind #wants to focus on. BUT yeagh.. ANYWAY... rambling again #daily log

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lecsainz · 4 months

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Can u do any kind of luke imagine with maybe a daughter of hades:p

˒ ⌕ DID YOU EAT, TODAY?

parings: luke castellan x hades!reader

an: this was my first piece that my sister liked? I'm sooo happy because she's picky, and I usually have to beg her to read anything I write. yes, I know it's pathetic, but I usually don't think my writing is good, and I don't think you guys will like it. I have a bit of a validation-seeking complex (mirroball girl here 😭

summary: where, after 18 years of surviving alone, you finally arrive at camp half-blood, discovering you're a child of hades. adimist it all, a hermes' boy might find himself perhaps falling for you.

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

The camp was bustling with activity, but for you, the chaos of your newfound identity as a demigod and a daughter of Hades was still settling in. The moment you were claimed upon entering the camp, it felt like your entire world had shifted. As the campers dispersed for their activities, you sought solace by the lake, needing a moment to process the overwhelming revelations.

Luke, having noticed your absence from the group, made his way to the lake with a small cupcake in hand. Blueberry, your favorite. He approached cautiously, recognizing the turmoil on your face. The daughter of Hades, a complex puzzle of emotions and powers.

"Hey there," Luke greeted, sitting down beside you. "Did you eat today?"

You looked up, your eyes still reflecting the confusion and vulnerability that came with the newfound knowledge of your divine parentage. The mere question, though simple, struck a chord within you, resonating with a sense of care that you hadn't expected.

"I... I didn't really feel like it." you admitted, your voice betraying the uncertainty.

Without another word, Luke handed you the cupcake, and the corners of his lips lifted into a reassuring smile. "Well, you should. It's blueberry – your favorite, right?"

Surprised, you glanced at the cupcake, realizing that somehow, amidst all the chaos, Luke had remembered your preference. A small, genuine smile formed on your face as you took the cupcake. "Thank you."

Taking the cupcake, you managed a small smile. The gesture was simple, yet it carried an unspoken understanding. You hesitated for a moment before taking a bite, savoring the sweetness that contrasted with the bitter reality you were grappling with.

Luke watched you quietly, and when you finally met his gaze, he reached over to wipe away a stray tear that had escaped your eye. It was a gentle touch, one that conveyed more comfort than words ever could.

"You know, being a demigod is tough, especially in the beginning," he began, his tone gentle. "But you're not alone in this. We're a family here, weird as it may be."

You chuckled, feeling a hint of warmth amidst the emotional storm. "Yeah, a family of demigods with divine parent issues."

Luke chuckled with you. "Exactly. And you've got powers from the Underworld, which is pretty cool if you ask me."

Your laughter echoed by the lake, and Luke couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading within him. He looked at you, your smile contagious, and a goofy grin formed on his face. In less than 48 hours, everything you did seemed to become his favorite thing.

"See? I knew blueberry cupcakes were the way to go," Luke teased, nudging you playfully.

As you enjoyed the cupcake, the night air became a canvas for the unspoken. Luke's gaze lingered on you, studying your features. The flicker of vulnerability in your eyes and the subtle playfulness of your smile sparked something in him. His mind wrestled with conflicting thoughts. The prophecy and his allegiance to Kronos felt like a weight on his shoulders, yet the simple act of being there for you seemed to defy the inevitable.

Luke couldn't help but think he was treading on dangerous ground. The more he got to know you, the more he realized that maybe, just maybe, there were things worth fighting for beyond the plans of gods and Titans.

Caught in his own internal struggle, he locked eyes with you. His expression shifted between uncertainty and an undeniable connection that was forming against all odds.

And then, as if a realization hit him, you blushed, looking away. The daughter of Hades, powerful and enchanting, now bashful under his gaze. A small smile played on Luke's lips, acknowledging the unexpected turn of emotions.

"Stop," you said, your voice a blend of amusement and a blush that colored your cheeks.

"I can't help it," Luke responded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He made no effort to hide his amusement, which only intensified your embarrassment.

A playful slap on his arm was your immediate response. "Seriously, cut it out."

Luke chuckled, the sound resonating in the tranquil night. "Alright, alright. I'll behave... for now."

"Hey, Castellan! We're heading out. You coming?" The moment was interrupted by a group of Hermes cabin members calling for Luke. As he got up to join them, he glanced back at you. "You coming?"

He extended his hand towards you, a gesture so simple yet filled with unspoken invitation. With a slight hesitance, you placed your hand in his, and together you walked away, fingers intertwined.

The children of Hermes exchanged smirks, whispering amongst themselves as they watched Luke and you leave the lakeside. One of them winked at Luke, teasingly remarking, "Looks like someone's got a soft spot."

Luke shot back with a grin, "I don't know what you're talking about."

He glanced at you, a sly smile playing on your lips radiating a warmth that ignited a turmoil within him. In that moment, a realization struck Luke like a lightning bolt – perhaps you were the unforeseen obstacle in Kronos' grand plan. As he stared at you, the idea that his growing feelings for you could complicate the titan's scheme loomed over him, and for the first time, Luke Castellan felt the weight of a dilemma he hadn't anticipated.

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kakushino · 9 months

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Burden... or asset?

Uzui Tengen x Fem! Reader

Tengen recieves a crow telling him some bad news.

Tags: angst, self-worth issues, fluff, orgy, aftercare, sub reader, sub Makio, soft dom Hinatsuru, mean-ish dom Suma Word count: 14,2k

Masterlist | Part 1

A crow came flying just as you were leaving the estate for your date. The grimace on Tengen's face signified bad news arrived, a slip of paper in his hands.

"What is it?"

"My… best buddy is in the Butterfly Mansion. Run-in with an Upper Moon."

Since you came back, he'd told you all about his current occupation and standing in the corps. It was fascinating. You’d been removed from the so-called ‘world news’ due to your Mission, so it all came as a surprise. It was also curious how you’d never run into a demon before.

“We can cancel our date. You must be worried…” you offered, taking his hand in yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Tengen still looked torn. “If you want, I can go with you?”

And so, your time together was cut short - he took you in his arms and rushed off with an urgency you hadn’t seen since you came home.

The room in Butterfly mansion was decorated with origami cranes; there was a vase with fresh flowers at the bedside. The man, who you came to see, laid on the sick bed and had hair like dancing flames, though partially hidden by bandages. The whole room might have smelled like disinfectant but the overall feel of it was homey, cozy, lived-in; a very colorful display - flashy and flamboyant.

“Well, well, well - look at you. The white of the bandages does bring out your eyes. Maybe you should wear them more often,” Tengen said in a teasing tone, voice a little thick despite his bravado.

His best buddy smiled broadly. “That’s why I wore the white haori, Tengen. It has always flattered us Rengoku men, hasn’t it?” The volume of his speech could barely count as an inside voice; it reminded you a little of your half-deaf grandma, back when she was alive. Perhaps he’d sustained an injury of sorts…

You would be the last person to judge him for that.

Tengen sat heavily on the chair next to his bed as if he carried a crushing burden on his back, while you lingered a few feet behind him, feeling like you shouldn’t be here.

“I’m glad you’re alive. I came as soon as I heard… Though you left for that Train over a week ago. What delayed the news?”

“Shinobu told only my father and brother at first, said I needed the quiet and space - even though I was unconscious! Though apparently, that was pretty bad!” he smiled brightly, as if he weren't in critical condition just a few days prior. The bandage over his eye, half his head and torso down to his abdomen sounded more than pretty bad to you. “Senjuro came to visit me while I was out of it… Though I wish he didn’t have to see me in such a pitiful state.”

Tengen huffed in amusement, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “You are certainly a sore sight for my flamboyant eyes, Kyojuro.” The movement revealed your form to the injured man.

He glanced towards you. “And who is this beautiful lady with you?”

Tengen smiled brightly. "Right - Kyojuro, this is Uzui [Name], my first wife. [Name], this is Rengoku Kyojuro, the flame Hashira."

"Ex," Kyojuro interrupted. "I guess I was hurt pretty badly! Shinobu told me I'm no longer in any fighting condition."

You blurted out the first thing that came to mind, for it was a question you, yourself, were struggling with. "What will you do now? If you don't mind me asking…" What will I do? How can I channel my energy?

“[Name],” Tengen turned to you, eyes narrowed. He seemed displeased with your question, as if he weren’t wondering the same thing in his mind.

Kyojuro smiled brightly, completely at ease despite your intrusive question. "Why, I’ll do as all retired Hashira do - train new slayers. Perhaps I shall find an inheritor of Flame Breathing as well!" The optimism this man had was unreal.

The conversation faded into a background noise. Train new slayers, he said. You didn’t want to train new shinobi. You’d thought about getting into wifely hobbies, but that only filled your idle hands; not your mind nor stamina nor skills were being put to use, and it was frustrating to say the least. You itched for some action, despite what had happened during your last so-called action.

“-be discharged in about two weeks. Shinobu is assigning a nurse for me until I’m all healed up! And Senjuro will keep me company as well!” The loud and enthusiastic voice of the retired Hashira broke through your thoughts at last.

Tengen glanced at you for a moment, before he faced Kyojuro. “[Name] could help out too. I’ll be going on a mission soon.”

You shot him a sharp look. This was news to you. And rude to offer your company without consulting you first.

“My other wives haven’t sent any messages the past week. Something must have happened, and I need to find out what,” he said in a hush, all traces of good mood gone from his face.

Your heart clenched. He was willing to go for the others when he lost contact. He didn’t just simply assume they were lost. You weren’t sure how you wanted to think about this, how to feel about this. You buried your emotions before they had the chance to surface.

“I see. That is important indeed. Wouldn’t it be better if you took [Name] along though?” Kyojuro looked at you, tilting his head slightly. “You both could work together to collect your wives! Like a date! But a bit more dangerous.”

You pressed your lips together tightly. That was a good question. Why did he not want to take you with him? You’d gained back the lost weight and filled out to your previous body shape. You’d kept up a light work-out regime to get back where you were before the last grueling months at the Mission. Did he not trust your skills anymore? You clenched your fists.

Tengen shook his head, the beads on his headband clinking together. “It would be better for her to stay. My wives were investigating an Upper Moon sighting in an entertainment district. Losing contact is more than bad news.”

Why was he talking as if you weren’t there? You weren't just a breeze, nor were you a doll to be set aside when inconvenient nor were you a painting, to be displayed and kept at home. You were a warrior - a warrior who had the same amount of experience as him. How dare he?

“I’m here, you know? You could have just turned to me and asked. If it’s a red district then my aid would be more valuable - especially to find out about Hinatsuru, Suma and Makio’s whereabouts,” you finally spoke up, your voice flat. “If you remember, my skills lie in espionage, Tengen.”

There was a slight flush on his ears at your scolding. “You’ve never fought demons before, and that’s why you’ll stay and help out Kyojuro. I’ve got things handled.”

"I'm not made of glass. If those three can help you, why can't I?"

"Of course I know you're not made of glass. May I remind you glass wouldn't be able to take my co-"

"Stop," you interrupted Tengen, your face feeling hot. Kyojuro had been watching the two of you escalate the argument, lone eye going back and forth as if he were watching children play with a temari ball. "First of all, this is no time to joke around. Your wives are in danger, our wives-" You were still a little mad he'd gone through a mutually binding sort of marriage, making you the wife of Hinatsuru, Suma and Makio as well. "Second, you know me, you know my skills. You know I can help and that I'm willing to help, despite what happened when I came back-"

"That's a low blow and you know it. I thought you were dead. You forgave me alrea-"

"Shut up while I'm talking, Tengen!" Your chest heaved with your rapid breathing, anger nearly taking over.

Your husband was in no better condition; he used his size to loom over you, trying to intimidate you into submission. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, somewhat more intense than usual. His eyes were slightly lidded but his expression impassive; it was hard to tell if he was aroused, as he used to when you were having an argument in your teenage years, or truly angry.

“You can’t just put me on a shelf like a pretty housewife. You need my help. Admit it-”

“You’re staying and that’s final!” Tengen suddenly shouted, making you flinch. You took a quick step back from him, adrenaline coursing through your veins. His eyes were wild, jaw clenched, muscles tensed. “You’d be nothing but a burden.”

You froze, breath stuttering in your chest.

He sidestepped you and left the room.

Nothing but a burden.

You’d been nothing but a burden since you reappeared in his life, haven’t you? You crushed his heart, destroyed his home, and you had yet to prove you were worth the complications arising from your presence.

So despite his continuous reassurances, this was how he truly felt…

“[Name]?”

You looked at Kyojuro, his worried expression saying it all. “I’m alright, I just-” your voice broke and you wiped your tears quickly. You hadn’t even noticed when they started falling. “I’m sorry you had to witness this.”

He waved you off with a dim smile. “You’re absolutely fine. It’s my first time seeing my best buddy like this, but all I can say is that it’s not your fault. It was me who stoked the flames when I should have left the matter be, and for that I deeply apologize. If I could, I’d bow to you.” Kyojuro laughed awkwardly before wincing and putting a hand on his abdomen.

All thoughts of Tengen flew out of your head as you stepped closer. “Hey, hey, easy… I think you shouldn’t laugh until that wound is all healed up.” Your belly scar throbbed at the thought of what the former pillar is going through. “Do you need me to call a nurse? Do you need any painkillers?” you fussed over him, sympathizing deeply with his pain.

A drop of sweat ran down the side of his face as he grimaced. “I think I’m fine. I just need to Breathe a little… Would you keep me company in the meantime?” He gestured to the chair right by his bed.

You hesitantly sat down. "Alright, Rengoku-san."

His smile made you feel at ease. "Excellent. Let me tell you about that one time Tengen and I…."

Tengen left.

He left you there with Kyojuro and went on the mission in the same breath. It hurt more than perhaps his words.

Nothing but a burden.

“Good afternoon, Rengoku-san,” you greeted the man with a smile.

“Good afternoon, Uzui-chan!�� he beamed at you. “The Gods have given us the best kind of weather to walk home in, wouldn’t you agree?”

Your mind flashed to the wagon you would be transporting him in. A walk, right… You were given instructions by Shinobu to sedate him if need be. “That is true, and please, call me [Name].”

Kyojuro was already slowly shuffling out of the covers. “Then you may call me by my given name as well! I’m so excited to get home.” His wide smile was infectious, the black eye-patch doing nothing to diminish his bright expression.

Warmth spread through your chest as you helped him to his feet. Kyojuro was such a positive soul; despite your dark thoughts, you never felt lesser with him. You would love to become his close friend, if he’d let you.

“Alright, let’s get you to the cart. Aoi and the girls already packed up all the origami and dried flowers you wanted with you.” You supported him as you walked through the halls of the Butterfly mansion.

“Thanks, for everything. Your presence during my days of recovery cured me of my boredom,” he said quietly, surprising you that he even knew how to talk in such low tones. Perhaps he realized shouting nearby sick rooms of other patients was not polite.

“It was no problem. I enjoyed my time with you.” You two walked out of the mansion. He leaned against a wooden pillar as you knelt at his feet to put on his sandals.

“I apologize you have to serve me like this.” Kyojuro seemed embarrassed.

You shook your head with a smile. “It’s quite alright. Soon enough, you’ll be able to do it yourself!” You tried to be as positive as he was, making him smile slightly. “Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you looked at him shyly, face feeling hot.

Kyojuro just beamed at you. “Good thing you’re the kind of friend who helps instead, hm?”

Relief flooded your lungs, allowing you to take a deep breath. “Of course! Now let’s get you home!”

Pushing the cart loaded with a recovering Hashira and thousands of colorful stuff he wanted with him was quite the work-out you haven’t anticipated. The kakushi responsible for such had been called away on an urgent clean-up of a battle scene, and Shinobu personally asked you to do it, so you couldn’t refuse. At least he kept up a pleasant conversation on the way to the Rengoku estate.

A mini-version of Kyojuro was sweeping by the gate when you arrived. You tilted your head, studying him.

“Little brother!”

The boy looked up and smiled brightly, quickly running over, letting go of the broom. “Big brother!” He clutched at the side of the wagon, glancing over the bandages Kyojuro still wore around his torso. “Father wouldn’t let me go see you since you woke up.”

Kyojuro’s smile was like the Sun, if you looked for too long, your eyes would tear up. You had to turn away from the intimate scene, one you weren’t worthy to witness. Why were you even there?

"Senjuro, this is [Name], Tengen's wife. [Name], meet my younger brother, Senjuro," Kyojuro drew your attention back, as if sensing you felt left out.

Senjuro bowed slightly. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Kyojuro’s younger brother. Thank you for bringing him home.”

"Why don't you come in for a while? You need rest after such a long journey," Kyojuro offered, already trying to get out of the wagon unassisted, prompting you to move forward to help.

You smiled. “Okay, but only for a little.”

The day wore on, pleasant conversation lulling time into a background blur as you got to know both young men more. Tea was served, then dinner. Your belly hurt from laughter, and your cheeks might as well have been stuck in a permanent grin.

Golden light washed over all three of you as you sat by the engawa, the two little Suns with you glowing in the true setting star.

"Might as well stay the night. The road to Uzui home is long."

Senjuro brightened at the suggestion. “Yes, stay with us! I’ll go prepare a room for you, big sis!” He ran off too quickly for you to react to the bomb he dropped on you. Big sis was a name you’d never heard in your life, yet it made blood rush to your face as Kyojuro laughed, clutching at his stomach immediately after as pain flared from his wound.

Analyze the situation, as you were taught to do while being a shinobi - a kunoichi. Yet you could not take a step back from the emotional turmoil in the stuffy room you were given, and so the full moon saw you sitting on the engawa of the Rengoku estate, nothing and everything flitting through your mind’s eye.

You were alone.

The night felt cold, as if you could never see the Sun again.

Light breeze fluffed your hair, calming the whirlwind within for scarcely a second.

A door slid open. The light clack of a cane told you who exactly it was.

“You’re supposed to be resting, Kyojuro-san,” you murmured, not looking at him.

“I’m not that old to be resting all the time, [Name]-san.” You could nearly hear the grin in his voice. A heavy grunt accompanied his warmth appearing at your side.

“Well, you are still healing. And you might pull a muscle or something.” A smile appeared on your face, the banter distracting you a little.

“Oh, you just know how to kick a man while he’s down.” Kyojuro chuckled, the deep sound reverberating in your bones. “I don’t deserve your teasing, you know?”

“...that is true.” Your smile dimmed a little. Perhaps you shouldn’t be so familiar with him. He was your husband’s best friend, though Kyojuro made you feel so comfortable, so warm - something you didn’t deserve to be, especially when Tengen was out there, in danger, alone.

He was on a hunt for an Upper Moon demon. And you were there sitting on the engawa, doing nothing - when you could have been there, helping.

Nothing but a burden.

“I don’t want to be a burden, Kyojuro-san. I want to be an asset,” you confessed, staring into the darkness, so alike to the one you held inside your heart. You wanted to be cleansed, to be free at last.

And he knew just how to help you. “You know, the next Final Selection is in a week.” Kyojuro grinned. “It would usually be impossible for a normal participant to get ready in a week… You were a shinobi though, weren’t you? Do you know how to wield a blade?”

You nodded eagerly, your hair falling into your face.

“Sit with me then, I will teach you all there is to know about Total Concentration Breathing, [Name].”

“When did you intend to tell us you had a wife before us?” Suma asked, as gently as she could, after exchanging so many glances with the other two as they walked to the Butterfly estate.

The question shouldn’t have caught him off guard; he was actually surprised they didn’t press when [Name] had arrived back into his life, but now wasn’t the time to press this issue. He was dying from demon’s poison not an hour ago, he was exhausted, and Obanai’s late arrival did nothing to alleviate his bad mood.

“I was going to tell you…” Tengen sighed. “I was going to tell you once it stopped hurting.” His heart clenched at the thought of her gone, disappeared, dea- “I didn’t know she’d come back.” He faced the sky, the sun too bright against his lone eye - he now matched with his best buddy, he thought wryly - trying to swallow back his tears.

He didn’t deserve to cry about this, about her. He’d doomed her before he confirmed it himself. In a way, he had tried to redeem himself by how he treated his new wives, but he now saw the error of his ways. No amount of- whatever he was doing right now could have erased his guilt now that he knew she was alive all along. And that hurt more than anything.

The thought that he failed her destroyed him on the inside. Each day he saw her after she came back was agony. When she showed him her scars, he wanted to die, to rip his heart out of his chest and offer it, still beating, as compensation for the horrors she had to live through. And yet… it would not be enough, it would never be enough.

“Tengen-sama…” came Hina’s soothing voice. “We understand it must have been painful, but now that she is here, we need to know more.”

There was a lump in his throat, making it hard to swallow past the emotions and memories resurfacing. Tears pooled in both his eyes, making him wince when the salty liquid touched the wound on his left one. All that ran through his mind when the pain registered was that it was just a fraction of what she felt while she was away on that Gods forsaken Mission.

“We’d met when we were thirteen… still kids but you know how it is in the shinobi world,” he started hoarsely. “It wasn’t long before we started to fall… I saved up all my money and bought the mansion we live in to this day.”

There is one room you can’t enter, under any circumstances, okay?

It was her room, all three realized at the same time, sharing looks.

“It was foolish of us to marry, but I would have done it again. The short time we were truly together was worth it… She was actually engaged when we did it. Forbidden love at its finest.” Tengen’s eye glazed over as he stared ahead, lost in what used to be. He had been happy, both of them had been so happy despite the circumstances. They talked about starting a family, about quitting the life of a shinobi, about running away and never looking back. That kind of thinking bit both of them in the ass very quickly. “Her family was more… displeased than mine. She’d been sent on a suicide mission, though at the time, I had no clue it was that. By the time I found out, she was gone, and I was alone.”

And yet, she’d done the impossible - she came back whole, in one piece, at least physically. [Name] had no reaction to the silk yukata he gave her though, and that bothered him deeply. The bolts of turtle shell patterned fabric had been his wedding gift to her, it had been their hope, their promise, to swathe their first child in it. After her disappearance, it laid abandoned in her room. He couldn’t bear to enter it for years upon years, grieving yet in denial. He wasn't able to fully accept her death, to even think about her at all without weeping like a child.

Perhaps it was fate then, that after young Kamado’s trial, he’d commissioned a seamstress to make a yukata out of the would-be child's fabric on a whim. He wanted to hang it up, decorate the bedroom with it - a reminder and a remembrance, a threat and a promise, to never let any of his wives slip through his fingers like water.

Tengen was blessed though, with your life, he was blessed and he-

Nothing but a burden.

He would never call himself an asshole - would have never called himself one - until you, until that, until he called you a burden.

Gods, he deserved death for that. He never should have uttered those words. How hard he tried to reassure you, to ease you back into being home, to let you slide into comfort and abandon the high-alertness that came with any mission; night terrors woke the both of you in the silence of many dark nights - memories, would-bes, and thoughts plaguing the conscious and unconscious hours of your days.

Tengen had called you nothing but a burden, the words weighing him down now, making him stop and stare into nothingness, a chasm opening in his chest at the realization that no amount of comfort could have prepared you for this, he'd hurt you, broke your trust yet again, using your insecurities against you.

He had no excuse - sans one. He was scared, driven mad by the thought of losing you again and this time - under his watch. He was worried he couldn't protect you as he had sworn all those years ago.

And now he was the one who hurt you - the only person, who he couldn't protect you from, was himself.

Tengen was the God of Fuck ups, not Festivals.

As shinobi, loyalty was situational; whoever paid the most got it, and whoever couldn’t pay got dealt with.

As a slayer, your one and only loyalty was to humans. No demon should be allowed to live - minus Nezuko - and you planned to make good on those words.

You walked out of the wisteria forest on the seventh day, exhausted, but victorious. You’d been worried about it, since Tengen made even the lowest of demons out to be strong enough to rip you to shreds. That proved to be true - for most humans. You saw a few fresh blood puddles of where the other participants used to be throughout the week. All you could do was offer a quick and silent prayer and move on. The demons you yourself encountered were no match for your skill, though the borrowed half-nichirin half-iron wakizashi wasn’t your usual choice of weapon as a fighter, as a shinobi.

It was time to put such thoughts and memories behind you, move onto better and bigger things.

This time around, ten people managed to pass the Final Selection, including you, though you were by far the oldest. That was fine. Even if you spent only a year, a month, a week before you perished in the line of duty, even if you helped only one person, it was worth it. Suffering was worth it.

It was atonement for a lifetime of dirty deeds under the mantle of the title Shinobi. The whole weight of it was on your back, nearly breaking your spine. But you would endure. That's what's owed to humanity after you tainted it with your deeds in the dark.

Another side of you whispered, you’re still as black as you were before, you can’t find salvation, you are selfish to the core.

And the side was right.

Because your motivation didn’t lie entirely in saving humans, it laid in proving your husband wrong, in showing him you were an asset, never a burden.

You wanted to stand by his side and take on missions together - like how it was always meant to be. Tengen and you, against the world.

“Welcome home, dear student.” Kyojuro’s greeting warmed you to the marrow of your bones.

“I’m home, master.” You grinned at him, and limped over to give him a hug, neither of you minding the dirt and stink of the road.

“Congratulations on becoming a slayer. I’m proud of you.”

By the time your husband and wives were on their way back from Butterfly mansion, you had already stopped limping. You didn't stop training your Breathing in the meantime, trying to achieve using it non-stop as you waited for the arrival of your Nichirin sword.

The house was clean, snacks were prepared, and you found yourself sitting on the porch. Your stomach was full of butterflies, excited as you were to see Tengen again, though you were also a little nervous - you hoped Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru would grow to like you and for that, you needed to give a good impression.

You wore the silk yukata with a turtle shell pattern, an earthy green obi tying it together. You hoped you were flashy enough for everyone, though Tengen gave you the yukata so it must be flashy enough… Maybe you should have changed into something more colorful.

Tengen’s laughter echoed down the road.

Fuck. It’s too late to change. Is my hair messy? Gods, I should have checked-

The gate opened and you shot to your feet, straightening out your yukata in a panic.

Wine red eyes- no, wine red eye stared back at you, an eyepatch covering the other one. Your breath was nearly knocked out of you as you took in your husband. You knew he’d lost his eye and his left hand but reading about it in a letter and seeing it in person were two entirely different things.

You couldn’t stop your legs as you nearly ran to him, jumping into his arms, clutching onto him tightly as tears fell and stained his yukata. You had thought about what you wanted to tell him once he came home, but now that he was here - your mind became blank. You couldn’t think of anything to say, not when he was there, his scent and warmth filling you up in a way air and food couldn’t.

Seconds turned to minutes, minutes seemed like hours.

At last, you said, “Welcome home,” in a choked whisper as you calmed yourself a little.

“I’m home.” His voice was near silent; if you hadn’t been so close to him, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it.

What a way to greet him after such a mission- Oh! You completely forgot about the wives!

You slowly pulled back, face feeling hot with shame when you took a step back, quickly wiping away your tears.

You bowed a little. “It’s nice to meet you again. I’m Uzui [Name]... your wife.” Your face was flushed and your hands trembled. “I hope we can get along.”

Suma was the first one to break; she nearly pounced on you, hugging you and swinging you around in a circle. You marveled at her strength as you held on for your life, laughing in delight.

A deft hand flew over your head and hit Suma, who nearly immediately dropped you - the momentum making you stumble back into a warm pair of arms and a very soft chest. It was Hinatsuru who caught you. “Are you alright?”

You regained your bearing, pulling away. “Yes, thank you. Are they-”

Makio was yelling at Suma, who was clinging to Tengen with crocodile tears streaming down her face.

“Uhm, is this the Uzui residence?”

Like moths to a flame, all of you looked to the still-open gate, where a kakushi stood. They had a - your heart skipped a beat - covered katana on their back.

You walked forward, smiling. “Yes, it is, kakushi-san.” You felt light, happy. Your Nichirin sword was finally here.

They bowed to you. “Uzui [Name], I presume?” They took the case off their back and presented it to you.

Your hands shook a little when you slid the cloth off of the sword. The scabbard was black, the grip a burnt orange, the guard in the shape of a flame, reminiscent of the one Kyojuro used to have. Your smile widened, cheeks near burning from the stretch; he must have told his artisan to make it for you.

It seemed the world held its breath for you as you drew the blade.

An ordinary steel greeted you before color bled into it, as if it were your blood fueling it.

A dark gold reflected the rays of the sun before it hid behind a cloud.

Your wives spewed congratulations after congratulations as you stared at your sword with joy. You felt as if you could soar. You laughed in delight as you sheathed the blade, hugging the kakushi, who blushed deeply underneath their mask, and then each of your wives. Happiness flowed in your veins, as golden as the sun, the flames, and the katana.

You Breathed fire. You were beautiful. You were powerful. You felt on top of the world, a goddess sent down to smite the evils of this world.

All this thanks to a single dark gold blade, your very own Nichirin sword.

Tengen could only stare at the scene in front of him, dazed.

He’d left you at home in hopes of saving you, of protecting you from danger he faced every day he went to hunt demons. The katana in your hand indicated he failed, and oh how miserably did he fail.

Did you do this to punish him? Is this your revenge? Retribution for the atrocity of taking more wives?

Nothing but a burden.

Did you truly believe his words - the ones he so stupidly uttered in a moment of madness in that sick room? He didn’t mean them, he never meant them. He knew you were more than useful, you were an asset in every way and form imaginable. Tengen was just scared, so fucking scared of losing you - especially losing you under his watch when he’d just gotten you back.

Fuck.

Did you… consider him unworthy of protecting you? Is that why you sought to become a slayer? To get your own blade and stand apart from him?

Was it a declaration of war on him?

Thousand men may die if so. He never, never meant for this to happen.

And Tengen would find no peace until he got to the bottom of this.

Raindrops fell one by one, creating a harmony of nature. A contrast to the whirlwind of emotions in his heart.

The light drizzle of the afternoon evolved into a lightning storm by the time the sun hid behind the mountains. You were glad there was no tree close enough to attract the lightning or to fall on the Uzui house, or you were sure there would be a big problem on your hands.

The tea room you sat in had been unused for months, clearly, as you had to wipe off some dust off the low table before you could use it. The pillows were clean, which was a blessing. It wouldn’t be able to dry out in this weather.

Though the furniture was traditional, the decorations were not. A few western pieces hung on the walls and there was a small statue in the corner of a naked angel reaching out to the heavens. One painting in particular caught your eye. It was a woman sprawled on her belly over a chaise, book in hand and kicking her feet in the air, clearly enjoying herself. If you squinted, the woman resembled you, a little.

But that wasn’t right.

If you were a painting, you’d be damaged, torn open, paint cracked, and your price would be pain - a price no one wanted to pay.

The door slid open.

All three wives stood there, and Hinatsuru spoke first. “May we come in?” She gave you a small smile, reassuring. You nodded.

Suma squealed and skipped over to the low table, quickly sitting down on one of the cushions; Makio carefully balanced a tray with teapot and four cups, Hinatsuru closing the door after her.

“I heard Tengen left to sleep over at Kyojuro-san’s. Is that right?” you asked, watching them all sit with you as Makio poured you a cup. The fragrance was slightly bitter, but you could easily identify it as mugicha, a barley tea meant to calm the mind.

You could guess why they came to you.

“That’s right. We’ve got a Girls’ Night today!” Suma grinned, nearly bouncing in her seat.

Makio gave her shoulder a light slap, “Shut up, let Hina speak, you idiot.”

“Hina~ Did you see? Did you see Makio slap me?” crocodile tears filled her eyes.

Hinatsuru shot them both a look, making both of them quiet down. She turned to you. “[Name], we’ve talked to Tengen-sama earlier,” she started. Your hand clenched around your cup of tea as your chest grew tighter. “We all know the feeling of looking in the mirror and not being happy with the body we see there. We just want to show you that you aren’t alone, and that in this household, there is no judgment. This household includes you as well.”

You stared at her in silence, in disbelief. You never thought they would be so bold as to approach you about this scarcely few hours after getting home, but on the other hand, it made sense. Tengen’s type wasn’t a shy maiden, even if it held a sort of appeal of its own.

A rustle of clothes caught your attention. Suma turned her back to you and loosened her obi. The short yukata fell to her hips, baring her back to you; there was nothing- until she used her hands to lift her hair. You drew a sharp breath.

An ugly jagged scar stretched from the top of her back up til it disappeared in her hairline.

“This is a pretty embarrassing story actually. Nothing grand at all,” she told you. “I was about sixteen and a spider startled me while training. I fell from a tree - a branch whacked me there, and since then, I have this ugly thing.” She let her hair fall down and sat properly again, a half-smile on her face; it didn’t look right to see her expression so grim and sad. There was a strange instinct to try to cheer her up, yet you remained silent, a lump forming in your throat.

Makio was next, untying her own belt as she knelt, letting her dress pool at her knees. Raised scar imitating torn flesh extended from her bellybutton to her hip, only partially hidden by her fundoshi. You wanted to avert your eyes but couldn’t. “This is only two years old. I was diving in the river with the girls when a current threw me on a bunch of rocks. Long story short, they were pretty sharp.”

She was so nonchalant about such a huge blemish on her smooth skin - it made you feel something, something sharp and unwieldy was lodged in your chest, throat, heart. Your hands trembled as you knocked back the tea and set the cup down quickly, lest you let it slip from your fingers.

You were being pulled apart at the seams, exposed despite wearing the most concealing yukata of you four.

Lastly, Hinatsuru stripped off her own yukata. A scar, unlike the others’, placed very deliberately over her areola. You choked on air, near hysterics.

Warm hands and warmer eyes reached out to you, grounding you as you keened. Because you knew the origin. You were there. You were there on the Mission.

You heaved a dry sob. There was only one thing you wanted to do.

You raised your fingers to your lips, kissing them, and then- the fingertips traced the ragged flesh softly, tracing it with a feather-light touch.

Perhaps you were overstepping, but you wanted to, needed to apologize, to show her intimately how beautiful you found her despite what had happened.

“You are stunning,” you whispered breathlessly, making her own breath hitch. You blinked back tears. “All of you are stunning.”

Suma shuffled closer. “And so are you, [Name].”

Your hand fell away. Perhaps it was foolishness, or bravery, that made you pull your curtain apart, baring your own skin to them.

There were no gasps, no horrified whispers.

Just four women, nearly naked as the day you were all born, sharing their humiliation.

…was it humiliation? Or was it strength to survive despite all the hardships?

"Our point is, each of us have some scars we are ashamed of. Do you think lesser of us for having them?"

You didn't even have to think about the answer. "No."

They smiled. And you realized that you would find only acceptance here, in their soft and tender arms.

Hinatsuru took your non-dominant hand in hers. "Some scars are silly, some scars come from gruesome experiences - but they make us who we are. They are part of us."

Suma took your other hand in hers, squeezing it briefly and lifting it to her lips. Oh so gently, she bestowed kisses on each fingertip, lingering on the scar from the knife tip that caused your abdominal scar.

In that moment, you did not see women - your wives - you saw deities, blessing you with their attention and love. They were willing to carry all your trauma together, to share the burden despite knowing you only for a short time. You had no words, except-

"I'm yours," you whispered, warmth filling your chest cavity, your body feeding on the intimacy, the closeness, the feeling of belonging. "And you're mine."

"You're ours, and we are yours."

If you were a painting, you’d be held together only by the frame - at least, that was how it used to be. Now, with three new wives to support you, you were slowly being put back together, healing at last.

"So… we match now, don't we?" Kyojuro said with a bright smile on his face.

It was the day after Tengen came home, but he couldn’t wait. Despite what he told his wives, he spent the night in an inn, marinating in the wrath he felt, in the hurt and the frustration.

Madness stewed in his stomach, threatening to be regurgitated at any moment. Tengen pushed down his feelings for the moment when he heard steps approaching. “Yes, we do match. Including the retirement and all the free time that comes with it.”

"I see. Well, you have your hands- hand full of your wives. I'm positive you will figure something out!"

A demure voice called out, "Excuse me." A red-haired woman came closer, kneeling behind the men sitting on the engawa and setting down her tray. There was tea for each of the men and a huge plate of steamed bread buns. "I thought you might be a little hungry so I…" she trailed off. Quickly getting up, she all but ran away from them.

"Thank you, dear!" Kyojuro shouted at her retreating back, laughing a little. "That was my nurse, Amiya. She's a little shy but really nice to talk to. She’s actually-"

Tengen wasn't in the mood to talk about his friend's nurse. He was here for business after all. “When did you intend to tell me you made my wife a demon slayer?”

Kyojuro paused, nearly mid-bite into a bun. Deciding to finish taking the bite before speaking, he quickly chewed and swallowed. "Delicious! Hmm, well, I didn't make her a slayer. She became one herself." He took another bite, finishing his first bun happily. "Delicious!"

“Cut that out, Kyojuro. She wouldn’t have become one if someone didn’t teach her Breathing. I know it was you, don’t deny it,” Tengen said between clenched teeth, rage very poorly hidden. Behind all the rage was worry, and fear, for her - yet all he could do was spew poison at his best friend.

“Maybe if you’d listened to her back then, you could have prevented me making her a slayer, in your words,” Kyojuro blew at his tea to cool it down a little. “Besides, [Name] is her own person and she can do as she likes. She wanted to be a slayer, she came to me for help, and I would be a bad best friend if I let your wife go into the Final Selection unprepared.”

Tengen hissed like an angry cat, “She could have gone to me.”

His friend leveled him with a flat look, so unlike his usual sunny disposition. “The last time she saw you before you left, you called her a burden. Imagine how that must have felt. If I were her, I’d be already divorcing you. Really, she deserves better.”

Better. Better. Better.

The word echoed in his mind. She did deserve better; she deserved someone who would support her no matter what, who wouldn’t go behind her back and marry three other women-

His brain circled around those thoughts almost constantly since she came back from that gods-forsaken Mission. What did she see in him that made her stay? Why did she decide to try - to accept their other wives in the polycule?

More importantly, Tengen knew she was antsy, that she needed an outlet long before he left for the red district. Getting back in the field - into the fighting, and the blood, and the hurt - was one thing he also knew he could not support. He’d just gotten her back, and he was supposed to be fine with losing her again?

No.

The answer was no.

He would have never approved of her joining the corps. He was a bad husband. [Name] deserved someone like-

Kyojuro sipped on his tea, looking over the peaceful garden.

-someone like Kyojuro.

“How often has she come to you while I was gone?” Tengen blurted out before he could stop himself.

Your first mission as a demon slayer was very uneventful, the demon being weak and easily tracked down, even despite your inexperience. However, there was a Kakushi that had gotten hurt - completely unrelated to the demon, they stepped into a small hole in the ground and rolled their ankle - so you were carrying them to the Butterfly mansion, which was the closest, or so the Kakushi told you. And they were right.

Once you’d laid the Kakushi down on one of the sickbeds further inside the mansion, where they kept the less severe cases, you didn’t want to walk back through the intensive care wing - especially since it was past midnight. You took a detour through the gardens, where you saw a red-headed young man sit on the engawa.

You looked him over, the bandages standing out against his sun-kissed skin. You knew immediately who it was. “Thank you for being there for my husband, young Kamado,” you said, breaking the silence of the night as you approached him. Kyojuro had told you Kamado Tanjiro had a very good nose; he’d probably been able to smell you long before you came close to him. “It must not have been easy - fighting an Upper Moon.”

Tanjiro looked at you, tilting his head. “Husband? Uzui Tengen has… four wives?” To his credit, he didn’t look as surprised to hear the Sound pillar had one more wife hidden away though perhaps his expression was closer to disappointment.

“It should have been me,” you confessed. “In the entertainment district - it’s what I’ve been trained for, what I was born for, made for.” The bitterness in your voice seeped through.

He gave you a tired smile, “Uzui-san, it couldn’t be helped.”

“I would have helped… He didn’t want me to.” You didn’t know why you wanted to pour your heart out to the boy. There was something about him, something that reminded you of Kyojuro, of safety and home. “I would have been just a burden.”

Tanjiro’s eyes softened, his expression sad, sympathetic to your plight. Yet he could say nothing, he only offered you an ear to listen, to take off your burden at his feet and go on with your life. He reached for your hand, giving it a squeeze.

“I spent the time trying to become an asset instead.” Sleepless nights of the week pre-Final Selection came to your mind. You did your best to stop being a burden, and you achieved that; you had your dark gold sword, your Kasugai crow, and your duty.

“I think…” he started uncertain, “You’re a warrior - were one even before you became a slayer, weren’t you? So you have never been a burden, nor a liability. Whoever made you think this way is wrong, Uzui-san.”

His words brought a slight smile to your face. “You’re too kind, young Kamado.”

Despite the reassurance, dark thoughts swirled in your mind. Still, Tengen’s opinion was branded into your mind, into your heart, your body set on fire and burning you alive with the same ache that had pulsed through your veins in the rhythm of your heartbeat when you came back.

Tengen’s opinion hurt you as deeply as his betrayal had.

And it was hard to let go of it.

You were helping Makio with the dishes after dinner when Tengen finally came out with what’s been bothering him.

“Why did you decide to become a demon slayer?” his tone was a barely-restrained typhoon of emotions.

You looked Makio in the eyes, and she understood immediately, drying off her hands on a rag and leaving the kitchen swiftly.

You both knew it was going to be a nasty fight.

“Don’t be mad, okay?” You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his jaw gently, since that was all you could reach. Tengen had an unreadable expression on his face for a second before he practically dove in for a deep deep kiss, the force of his urgency making you lose your balance and you lost your balance, his body caging you against the counter.

As swift as a summer rain, the passion turned into anger. He tore himself away from you.

“Why the fuck are you doing this? Are you still hung up on the whole-!” Tengen gestured vaguely in a sharp movement.

You blinked a few times, refocusing on him.

But he didn’t let you answer. “Is this your revenge?” he growled, standing so close he cast shadow over you.

You huffed. “This is no revenge, Tengen. I just-”

“You just what? Your husband left on a life-threatening mission and you go dilly-dallying with his fucking best friend?”

“What? Are you being serious right now?” you could only gape at him, shock freezing you in place. “What the hell are you implying?”

Tengen grit his teeth. “What do you think? A lonely wife, soon to be a widow, in need of a husband. Oh look! There is one right here!”

You chuckled without humor, yet you found the situation wholly hilarious nonetheless. “Tengen, he has a girlfriend.”

“He what?”

“I thought you are his best buddy. Kyojuro’s nurse, Amiya? She’s his girlfriend. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”

Like a bucket of ice cold water over a fire, his anger was put out and he remembered.

That was my nurse, Amiya. She's a little shy but really nice to talk to. She’s actually-

You took a deep breath before giggling again, a little deranged.

Tengen took a step back. “I didn’t- I didn’t know.”

A mad laughter echoed in the room, and it surprised you to hear it was yours. “Really? You come back from a mission and you find your lonely wife, a would-be widow, found out about the joy of having a friend after years and years - and you what? Accuse her of cheating the first thing? Wow, you’re so fucking smart, aren’t you?”

“[Name], I-”

“No.” You Breathed, pushing him back and surprising him with your strength. “I never did that to you. Get yourself in the mirror and fucking look. Gods know there are many in our home.”

“Alright, I’m- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you of that,” Tengen took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I really am…”

“Yes, you better apologize. And you better apologize for one other thing, Lord Tengen,” you seethed. All the anger, the hurt and the pain bubbled together in a nasty concoction of negativity, a poison you intended to make him eat every drop of.

Because he made you eat his.

“I- Precious, calm down-” He backed away a little seeing your darkening expression, “Okay, honey, don’t be calm.”

“That’s right. You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m my own person, with ambitions and feelings - feelings, might I add, that you hurt with your loathsome comment-”

Nothing but a burden.

“- but really, I should thank you. I actually found something I can put my energy to now that I’m no longer a kunoichi,” your voice softened as you looked away. You didn’t want to let all be unforgiven, you just wanted to fix it, to embrace Tengen and be embraced by him - flaws, scars, and all.

The kitchen suddenly felt cold, you felt cold - as if you could never warm up enough. You were frozen to the marrow of your bones, and the chasm between the two of you seemed so dark and wide. You were an island in the middle of a sea.

But then he stepped closer.

“Can I touch you?” his voice shook slightly.

Your eyes met.

You nodded. He reached out with both arms, his hand taking yours and pulling you closer, into a tight hug, his stump crushing you to his chest. “I’m sorry, precious... I kept thinking I could lose you, that I would lose you again so soon after I got you back. I didn’t want that, I wanted to keep you safe.” His breath hitched as he laid his cheek on the top of your head, breathing in your scent.

“That doesn’t excuse your words.”

Tengen’s heart ached, your voice so small and wounded. “It doesn’t, and I swear I will do my best to make it up to you - for the rest of my life, every day. I swear on my existence that I will cherish you every day, from sunrise to sunset and from sunset to sunrise. You are my one and only, my precious.”

The reverent promises warmed your cold bones, bringing life back to where there was none.

You’d long decided to stand by Tengen no matter what. You would forgive him.

After a punishment.

The master bedroom was a work of art - especially for a polycule. Nearly all of it was a raised platform covered by one gigantic futon that could host ten or more people, with about a meter and a half from the walls on three sides as a walk-around. Perfect for what you had in mind.

“Ladies, take it easy-” he choked out. It was too much at once - Hinatsuru cupping his jaw and leaving hickeys, you giving attention to his nipples, sucking and biting them, and Makio at his cock, lapping at his flushed tip. Where was-?

He tried to reach out to push his wives away but felt a tug instead, his arms immobile behind his back.

“Sum-aaahn~ Fuck!” Makio sucked him into her warm mouth, distracting him from Suma, who was skillfully weaving ropes around his arms; she was, after all, the best at shibari out of all his wives. Their plan slowly sank into his mind. It was hot, and he didn’t want it to stop.

Your nails trailed over his abdomen, Makio cupped his balls as she took more and more of him down her throat, and Hinatsuru practically devoured him with a deep kiss, taking his breath away. His mind went blank.

“Done!”

At the signal, all of his wives took a step back, leaving him panting and aching for more. His face was flushed and his eyes a little hazy. “Wha-?”

Makio grinned, wiping a little bit of drool from her face. “Did you really think this night is about you?” she tutted.

“Exactly, Tengen-sama. You’ve had our wife all to yourself for weeks. It’s our turn,” added Hinatsuru, turning to you. “As long as the First wife approves.”

You smiled shyly, face hot, yet turned on. It was all a show, just for Tengen. Hinatsuru had already asked you in private if you’d consider a night like that, since the three felt the need to punish him for his transgressions as well. If he already wasn’t regretting crossing his women, he would be after tonight.

“What are we waiting for?” Suma skipped over to you, grabbing you by the yukata and kissing you deeply. You squeaked in surprise at her forwardnes but kissed her back. She tasted sweet, like mochi - you now knew for certain she ate it despite being told not to.

The mochi was quickly forgotten when you felt your obi loosen. Suma’s hands went into your hair as she kept you occupied. Deft fingers pushed your yukata off your shoulders, another pair of hands going up to cup and play with your breasts.

“Girls, come on… I’m here, why don’t you use me for your pleasures?” Tengen’s voice was faint to you, as was Makio’s response, your head underwater despite breathing fine.

The hands at your breasts disappeared, leaving you cold, your nipples hard from arousal and the change in temperature both. Suma pushed you backwards, until your calves met the raised platform bed. She finally pulled back, someone - Hinatsuru - gently making you sit, then lay on the mattress.

“You look so cute when you’re all flustered… Your eyes are so lost,” she leaned over you and kissed your lips softly. You chased after her for more, but she only giggled. “It makes me want to ruin you~” She smirked. “In a good way, of course.”

Tengen could only stare in mute shock at what was unfolding in front of him. All his wives turned on him, tied him up, and ignored him, seeking pleasure from each other instead of using him as their play toy. The truth of the situation slowly sank into his mind as he watched Makio replace Hinatsuru in teasing you, and Suma help Hinatsuru into a strap-on harness - a strap-on that was an exact copy of his own cock! They could just use him!

“Girls… I’m right here~ My hands are a bit tied though…” Tengen nearly whined, trying to make eye contact with any of them, only for all four women to be focusing on each other instead of him.

“Sweetie, would you mind…?”

You looked up to see Hinatsuru with a big strap-on, waving it in your face. You opened your mouth and started to give it sloppy kisses, getting it all wet with your saliva, as you looked up into her eyes. She was smiling down at you, petting your hair gently.

There was a brief conversation behind you but you could only focus on her as she guided you down the cock, making you gag slightly. Hinatsuru pulled back and let you go at your own pace, telling you how good you were for her and how lovely you look taking the strap down your throat.

“Mhm, I think it’s wet enough, isn’t it?” She cupped your jaw and slowly slid you off of it, a string of saliva connecting your lips and the tip of it before it snapped. “Makio, come here.”

Gentle hands hugged you from the back, open-mouthed kisses worshiping your shoulders as Suma moved you back a bit to make place for your other wife.

“Mommy is going to make you feel good,” Hinatsuru cooed at Makio, turning her around and pushing her to her hands and knees. “Present for me, babygirl.”

Makio arched her back, balancing on her forearm to spread her already-soaked pussy, the sight making Hinatsuru blush in delight. She took the strap by the base and teased her wife by going up and down between her pussy lips. Makio whimpered and tried to push herself back on it, very nearly succeeding, when Hinatsuru spanked her ass lightly.

“Be good for me, okay?” Nevertheless, she pushed the strap inside agonizingly slowly, Makio moaning at the feeling. She used both hands to support herself now that the cock was in. “You can only cum if you make [Name] cum, babygirl. Sound fair?”

Makio smirked, though it lacked the usual sass, each slow thrust taking more of her brattiness away. “Yes, mommy~”

Suma pushed you down to lay in front of Makio, spreading your legs with soothing strokes on your thighs. “Let her make you feel good~” She positioned you to half-lay on her lap, one of her hands coming up to caress your breasts and play with your nipples gently.

Hinatsuru thrust in roughly exactly once, and it was to push Makio’s head in between your thighs, forcing her to start pleasuring you. She licked at your clit with just the tip of her tongue, drawing circles and infinity symbols; the long-forgotten feeling of someone going down on you ignited a blaze inside your belly, making you gasp and clutch onto the bedding.

Suma took hold of your wrist and placed your hand on Makio’s head, whispering lowly, “She likes it when you pull her hair~” Hearing that, you tugged at her hair a little, her moans only adding to your pleasure, the vibrations feeling heavenly.

“F-fuck-” you breathed out shakily, wanting to pull away yet push her head closer to you, already overwhelmed.

Makio dove in, sucking at your puffy clit gently, laving it with the attention it deserved. She made her way down, grazing the tip along your slit as she continued to make little sounds from Hinatsuru fucking her. Flattening her tongue, she hungrily ate you, a woman on a mission.

Hinatsuru looked up from the lewd display in front of her to look at her husband. Tengen was mesmerized, staring at all of them, before he caught her gaze. She caressed Makio’s asscheeks before delivering a sharp smack, earning her a loud moan from Makio, and subsequently another from you. His face flushed a deep red, lips pressed together in frustration. All the while, Hinatsuru kept eye contact with him, a smug smile stretching her perfect lips.

You tensed, crying out and thrashing in Suma’s embrace, hand harshly gripping at Makio’s hair as you rode wave after wave of pleasure.

“Shhh, you look so lovely when you cum, don’t you, princess?” Suma whispered in your ear, hot air caressing your sensitive spot as you shivered. “Did you see how good Makio ate you out? Isn’t she pretty when her mouth is occupied and not sprouting nonsense?”

You could scarcely choke out a word, quickly tipping into overstimulation. Hinatsuru, bless her, noticed and roughly pulled Makio back on her strap, pulling her face out of your pussy as she whined and moaned.

Suma rubbed your thighs in comfort; you just tried to catch your breath, coming down to Earth from the Heavens you were in.

“Are you with me? Ready for your lesson, princess?”

“L-lesson?” you tried to get your bearing, while Suma turned you around gently, shuffling back a little, her cunt nearly in your face.

“Why, of course~” She grinned. “You need to learn how to eat out a pussy. Did you pay attention to Makio? If not, that’s fine. Come, I’ll be your teacher today~”

You looked at her with half-lidded eyes, saliva pooling in your mouth as you processed what she wanted you to do. You wanted to try, wanted to taste her, wanted to find out how to please her and how to perform your wifely duties to her. The curiosity of the entire act burned inside of you.

You laid on your belly, your lips just inches from the well of ambrosia awaiting you. You give a first tentative lick, the tip of your tongue swirling around Suma’s clit, making her sigh out in pleasure.

“That’s good, princess.” Whispered praises left her lips, instructing you how exactly she liked it, where to lick, where to suck, when to slow down and speed up. Gentle fingers threaded through your hair, reassuring you and grounding you.

You alternated between her sweetness and her puffy nub as she guided you through your first oral, the taste so addicting to you and the praises intoxicating. Her moans only made you wetter, made you anticipate what’s coming next in the night as you enjoyed Suma’s depths for all she gave. Her thighs quivered around your head, the sounds of ecstasy resonating in your ears when her legs didn’t squeeze you involuntarily.

Your face was flushed, you could hardly breathe; you ate and ate until she was screaming and creaming around your tongue, hot pussy juices flooding your mouth.

“You did so well for me, haaah- princess,” Suma caressed you, easing you off of her with a shaky hand. “How was it?”

You licked your lips and looked up at her shyly. “I liked it very much.” The admission earned you a smile and a deep kiss, before Makio patted both your shoulders. Her thighs shook a little as she winked and then tilted her head in the direction of your husband.

You all shared a secret grin, turning to him at once.

"Heh, I knew you would want my cock eventually," Tengen smirked. You gave him an unimpressed stare.

Makio circled him and bent forward to hug him from the back, whispering in his ear seductively. "Worry not, pretty boy. Once we've used you as we want, you're being put back on the shelf. You see," she grinned evilly, "we don't need you to get our pleasure." Her arms tightened around him, a silent warning to not move.

Hinatsuru laid in front of Tengen, her legs spread on each side of his thighs as if she were offering herself to him. She patted your thigh to draw your attention. "Sweetie, paint me with his cum. I want it all over me~"

The nickname made your cheeks heat up. You nodded enthusiastically and shuffled closer to Tengen.

His lone eye was lidded, face flushed and lips parted as he looked on in anticipation of what was coming. His cock twitched right before your palm met his flesh, the spongy tip an angry red and weeping precum. You held it steady and opened your mouth, letting your saliva drip down on it, using it as lubricant along with his precum to stroke him. Tengen let out a breathy “Fuuuhk-” when you started a steady pace, putting both of your hands to use. You swept your thumb over the mushroom head with each pass, paying attention to what he liked. It was your goal to make him finish, after all.

“Come on, be our good boy and cum quick~ We need your cum~” Makio whispered into his ear in a sultry voice. Tengen whimpered.

Your hands were firm around his cock, unrelenting as you worked him towards his release; the weight of him in your hands was familiar yet new at the same time. His balls hung heavy and you cupped them with one of your hands, fingers deftly massaging him for the sweet treat inside.

Tengen cursed like a sailor, first spurt of semen shooting out with enough force to land near Hinatsuru’s neck. You didn’t stop, trying to squeeze the most you could out of him as he painted a masterpiece on his wife.

"Good job. Now you sit here nice and pretty for us. Such a good decoration to our pleasure, hmm?"

You, Makio and Suma all descended upon Hinatsuru with the hunger of starving hyenas. Licking at her cum-stained skin, you cleaned every beautiful inch of her as she closed her eyes, enjoying every second of it.

Tengen could only stare again, humiliated for the n-th time that evening. Yet again he was forced to sit and watch his wives go at it, barely giving him a taste of the pleasures they gifted each other so lovingly, using him as a source of cum to continue the hedonistic display in front of him. He felt shamed, and unbelievably turned on.

Makio’s head bumped into yours by accident, prompting you both to look up. Your eyes met, an animalistic impulse taking over as you locked your lips together, Tengen’s cum shining like lip gloss on both of your lips. So engrossed in each other, you forgot all about the audience you had, everything a blur as your tongues danced.

“Time to fuck that attitude out of you, brat.”

Makio’s head was yanked from you, a string of saliva stretching and snapping between the two of you as Suma tugged her back by her hair. Makio was forced to support herself with her hands on Tengen’s thighs, making him blush deeply at the sight. A sharp smack echoed in the room.

Warm hands coiling around your torso distracted you from your stolen lover. Palms with small calluses ran over your breasts, the rough parts catching on your nipples as you were pulled away and down to lay your head on a pillow. Hinatsuru laid beside you, foreheads touching, air shared between you.

“Do you want to learn how to make me feel good?” she whispered, eyes searching yours for any hesitancy.

You had none though. “Yes, please… Mommy.” Your face felt hot at the nickname you called her, but Hinatsuru only smiled gently, cupping your face.

“Of course, sweetie.” Her fingertips trailed down your throat, your chest, belly, making you shiver and goosebumps spread over your skin at her feather-light touch. At last, her hand stroked your thigh, raising it a little to allow her access to your most intimate place, two fingers delving between your pussy lips. You drew a shaky breath.

“Close your eyes,” Hinatsuru whispered to your ear. “Feel my fingers, focus on how I do it…” You gasped as her thumb circled your puffy clit oh so gently. “Copy what I do to you, hmm? Can you do that for me, sweetie?” Her motions slowed down, waiting for you to start doing as she ordered.

Your hand hesitantly trailed down her side to the apex of her thighs, dipping down to her entrance to wet your fingers before you began copying her. Her shaky moan signaled you were doing it somewhat right.

“Feel me?”

You hummed breathlessly, leaning against her neck, panting slightly. You weren’t ready for the pleasure her digits brought but you tried to focus on copying her movements. Each flick, circle and thrust was met blow-for-blow on her own pussy. You bit your lip as you felt her huffing into your hair.

“You’re doing so well, sweetie. Just relax and enjoy it, hmm?”

You could hardly relax when she brought you pleasure so expertly - each circle on your clit winding the knot inside tighter and tighter, making you see stars even before your release.

“Let go for me, babygirl.”

You cried out, losing control over your fingers as you shattered on Hinatsuru’s. Tears gathered at your lash line while she shushed you, still stimulating you gently, prolonging the waves of pleasure as they crashed upon you.

“So adorable. You sound so cute when you cum, sweetie.” She took hold of your hand and ground down on you. “Now, be a good girl and let mommy use you- ah!”

Hinatsuru didn’t bother to muffle her moans, chasing her own la petite mort. You watched in awe when she came, her pussy walls squeezing your fingers, more slick coming out of her. Her whole body trembled and she no longer had to control you as you made sure to gently bring her down to Earth, steering clear of her clit to not overstimulate her.

A lewd sound accompanied you taking your fingers away from her. You looked at them, all sopping wet with her essence; before you could stop yourself, you were licking it all up. Hinatsuru giggled a little and cuddled close to you once you were done, giving you a sweet kiss on your lips.

Makio’s face was right in Tengen’s, each snap of Suma’s hips driving her closer to her orgasm, her breasts swaying back and forth, her nails digging into his thighs painfully. He could not look away; he ached with need, his weeping cock begging for attention, tears nearly filling his eyes from the frustration. Just behind Makio and Suma were Hina and you, coming down from your respective highs, cuddling and not paying attention to him at all.

Why? He was right there! Why didn't you or Hina or any of them give him any relief? He truly felt he didn’t deserve this…

Makio went taunt suddenly, her eyes rolling back and her arms losing their strength, nearly falling into his lap. Suma laughed breathlessly at that and slowly pulled the strap out of Makio’s pussy, the fake dick bouncing a little. With a few tugs on the harness, she was free of it, a few indents showing on her thighs from how tightly she tied the straps.

Extra appendage discarded, it was time to untie Tengen, who’d fallen uncharacteristically silent.

Makio was crawling to the cuddling duo, completely spent, when the last knots fell loose.

Tengen Breathed.

Suma was on her back before she knew what was going on, her legs spread wide open. “Eh?” was all she could say when her husband’s large form caged her in, the tip of his rock hard cock already at her entrance. Her yelp alerted the other wives that something was wrong, but Tengen was beyond the point of caring. He thrust inside with one smooth move, groaning loudly like a cheap whore, immediately setting a punishing pace on his Second wife.

All other sounds fell away other than the lewd wet smacks of skin-on-skin. Suma’s face became flushed very quickly, clawing at his shoulders while he rendered her guts to pieces with his harshness. A beautiful mix of pleasure and pain.

He brought his hand down to her clit, circling it the exact way she loved. Tears filled her eyes as her release approached rapidly. Tengen had still not said a thing. He was just staring at her, groaning softly, sweat making his hair stick to his neck and face, which was set in a beautifully pussy-drunk expression.

She was lost, her back arching as she clung to him. The fluttering of her pussy made him let out sounds reminiscent of a dying man and still deep inside her, painting her walls white. Tengen pulled out slowly, still hard, throbbing and far from done. He did nothing to stop his cum from leaking out, turning to the rest of his wives.

Makio was already dozing off, despite the commotion, so that eased his burden so to speak. Tengen shuffled closer in a few quick motions, grabbing Hinatsuru’s ankle and yanking her to him, her noise of surprise drowned by his feral growl.

She laid on her stomach, so Tengen just straddled her thighs and spread her asscheeks open, pushing inside her wet pussy roughly. Hinatsuru angled her hips to take him in deeper, fucking herself back on him and moaning at the feeling of his cock rubbing against all the right spots. "T-Tengen, slow down!"

You could only stare wide-eyed as your husband railed Hinatsuru like a beast, his stump resting on the small of her back, arching her up even more, and his hand clutching the back of her neck. You glanced at Makio on your side, long since passed out, and then Suma, who was dozing with cum oozing out of her.

You weren’t scared of Tengen, per se, but this was new. You had never seen him go crazy like this. It made you gush with wetness at the display, your fingers reaching down to play with yourself.

His furious pace with Hinatsuru slowed down, though not any less powerful. He leaned over her, his whole body covering hers as he put his weight on his forearms, grinding into her with each roll of his hips, her eyes crossing a little, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. Tengen started to whisper in her ear; you could not hear what he said, but Hinatsuru’s eyes met yours, conveying a silent message you could not understand. Was it pity or something else entirely?

Smack.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Tengen spanked her, grinning widely, staring down at her. “Say my name,” he commanded her in a gravelly voice.

Hinatsuru desperately clutched the bedding - trying to remain in place or fuck herself back on him, you didn’t know - as she stuttered out a weak “T-Ten-gen-!”

“Louder!”

“T-Tengen!”

A quick rhythm of pap pap pap echoed in the room, you couldn’t look away, you could scarcely breathe. And then, Hinatsuru could scarcely breathe, when he wound his left arm around her neck, using the thick muscles to keep her in place while he had his fun.

Her face was red, mouth falling open in an ‘o’.

“Oh fuck- I’m cumming-” he choked out hugging Hinatsuru close, burying his face in her neck and groaning as if he were dying, letting up the pressure on her neck. She just whimpered meekly, grinding back against him, closing her eyes and leaning her head against his in an intimate touch.

You suddenly felt like a voyeur. You wiped your wetness on your thigh, quickly pulling a loose blanket over yourself, embarrassed.

There was a loud squelch and another whimper from Hinatsuru.

You chanced a look, your eyes widening.

It was clear Tengen’s mania did not pass yet, his cock still hard and twitching. “What, did you think I’d forget my dearest wife?” He loomed over you, his huge body casting a shadow, like a predator about to devour his prey. “Whether you're ready or not, here I come, precious…”

You felt like the temperature of the room rose a few degrees, watching him come closer to you, length bouncing, covered in slick and cum. You thought he must be pretty overstimulated, it should be easy to last…

How wrong you were.

Like an animal let out of his cage, he pounced. The last two creampies only took the edge off; your fellow wives were dozing off quietly while you were about to get ravaged.

Tengen practically tore the blanket from your body, leaning closer and blocking your escape, his forearms framing your head. “Why are you hiding from me, precious? Are you scared?”

You trembled from a mix of arousal and anticipation.

His wine red eye searched both of yours intently, waiting for your response. When you said nothing, he whispered, “Remember our safe word?”

Jade, or three taps on any part of his body with your fingers.

You nodded.

“You can still use it at any time,” he murmured. “Say it, or use our non-verbal signal, and I’m going to stop. Do you understand?”

You nodded again, making him sigh in relief.

Then, Tengen grinned, dropping all the worries he had; happy you were both on the same page. Now he was free to do as he pleased - as long as you didn’t stop him. “Then… Say you’re mine…” he leaned in even more, hovering just centimeters above your lips, your breaths mingling. “...pet.”

You exhaled harshly, the nickname doing things to you, his closeness, his voice, his scent… All of it an intoxicating mix of pure Tengen. “I’m… yours.”

“Hm? I didn’t hear you. Say it louder,” he whispered breathily, eye half-lidded. “Come on, be a good girl. You know you want to be~”

Your face felt hot at the intensity of his attention. “I’m yours.”

“Exactly, precious - mine to touch…” His right hand caressed your cheek, tilting your face up. “Mine to kiss…” he breathed out, diving in for a deep and sensual kiss that stole your breath away. “Mine to do whatever I please…” His hand traced down your neck gently as he kissed you again. “You’ve been naughty…”

His lips left your own; instead trailing open-mouthed and hot kisses on your throat.

“Teasing me all evening…”

Your pussy clenched around nothing, his cock bumping on your clit as he tried to position himself hands-free.

"Minxes-"

His tip caught at your entrance and he slid in with a low groan, your heat and wetness driving him near-mad already.

"You were so gorgeous, all of you."

In, and out, in and out - each time quicker and quicker, yet the way he took you could hardly be called graceful. It was an animalistic and desperate pace, all about pleasure and none about being pretty.

He leaned back a little, holding his weight on his hand. "Hold onto me," he panted out. "C'mon raise those hips f'me, precious."

You tightened your thighs on his hips, gripping as much as you could with his disharmonic thrusts, and arched your back off of the bed. His cock hit a very sensitive spot inside making you groan at the sensation and nearly slip down as you lost strength; Tengen used his left forearm to stabilize you as he fully raised himself upright on his knees, his right hand helping his thrusts.

He groaned, “You’re fucking perfect - and all mine, only mine.”

You could only mewl in response, your orgasm quickly approaching.

As did his.

“Fuck- fuckfuck, I’m coming, I’m coming-comingcomingcomin-!” he chanted over and over, falling over and putting nearly his whole weight on you as his hips stuttered. He leaned on his left forearm above your head to ease off of you a little, still slamming away into you, rhythmless and sloppy.

Heat filled you, setting you off like fireworks. Your pussy milked him for all he was worth, each spasm accompanied by a whimper from you.

“I can’t stop my hips- It feels so good, ngh-!” His semen spilled out of you with each slap of skin against skin, his pubic bone bumping against your clit and creating a burning ache there. Tears filled your eyes when finally he groaned out, "Fuuuhck-" You felt his hot cum spill inside you again, making you wonder where your husband acquired such libido and stamina while you were away.

Tengen slowed down at last, his body trembling above yours as he hid his face in your neck, panting. Your arms were boneless and refused to keep any semblance of coordination; nevertheless you hugged him loosely, one hand tangling in his sweaty locks. You untied his eye-patch and dropped it at your side, fingers returning to his scalp.

Each breath became longer and longer, his rutting finally coming to a stop.

He huffed and kissed your neck gently. "Gonna pull out now-" he grunted when your pussy spasmed around him, clearly overstimulated. He finally pulled out fully, for the first time since sinking into your heat, and nearly got hard at the sight again.

His cum was smeared all over your thighs and more still was leaking out of your puffy pussy. He could not resist - his hand gathering some of the pearly white, reaching up and smearing it all over your tits.

"Hey!" you protested half-heartedly.

Tengen laughed, still a little breathless. “Not sorry.” He gave you a short but insanely soft kiss, before standing up and walking to the door. “Stay where you are.” His form disappeared.

You relaxed, the gentle breathing of your wives soothing you. That was… something. You had never been with a woman before, nor had you had an orgy, or really been with anyone other than Tengen, but this felt good, this felt nice. Overwhelming, but neverending pleasure. Giving and taking freely. No pressure. Just ecstasy.

Tengen came back, carrying a small bucket of water and a few rags, each a different color. He gave you a wink and knelt next to Suma first, wetting one of the rags and cleaning her up, his gentle motions a clear worship to his wife. Once clean, he scooped her up and carried her over to the other side of the room-futon. Suma had not stirred once.

You rolled onto your side to watch him work as he moved onto Makio. Hers was swift, yet Tengen kept pausing every time she mumbled something in her sleep. Finished, he carried her to Suma, who immediately cuddled Makio to her chest. He threw a blanket over both of them as they snuggled for warmth.

Watching him care for them told you how deeply he loved each one, how devoted he was. Oddly enough, you didn’t feel jealous. Perhaps it’s the remnants of shinobi culture lurking in your brain, though the thought didn’t comfort you at all.

Hinatsuru groaned when he cleaned up his spend from her thighs, the water clearly going cold with time. Tengen shushed her softly, speeding up so he could get her to be with the others quicker.

With the girls, Hinatsuru rolled over, pressing herself up against Makio, seeking warmth.

At last, it was your turn.

“You’re shakin'…” You didn’t even notice until he pointed it out. He quickly grabbed the last wet rag and wiped you down gently. The water was lukewarm. “I’m right here, precious.”

His own body seemed clean enough, so he’d already done that for himself in the bathroom probably. You reached out and placed one of your hands on his thigh, right over the marks Makio left on him, hoping to provide him with a little of the comfort he brought you. Tengen smiled at that gesture.

“You did a good job, makin’ me feel good.”

You hummed. “And you did a good job making me feel fantastic,” you whispered as he finally wiped the drying cum off of your chest.

His hand slowed a little. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“No, you were just right.”

He leaned down to give you a tender kiss, the forearm of his left arm caressing your cheek oh so gently, it made you tear up a little. This man, your husband, worshiped you like a goddess. Your love for him swelled in your chest, your heart pumping heavily as if it wanted to beat out of your body. You felt loved - loved, cherished, appreciated. It was a heady feeling, a drug which made you crave even more of his soft attention and veneration.

You could only hope he understood the power he had over you.

Tengen set the rag on the rim of the bucket and put it beside the futon. You got to your knees to join the others when your husband snatched you up, making you yelp a little. He was grinning. “Can’t have you walking after your first night in our flashy group, can I?”

You giggled quietly when he laid you down, himself between you and Hinatsuru, who felt a greater warmth from his side than from Makio’s and rolled over to him. You reached out and threw a blanket over all three of you.

Despite your tiredness, you allowed Tengen to pull you even closer against him, bestowing another adoring kiss to the crown of your head. One of your arms stretched over him, tracing idle patterns on his chest - characters, words, should he pay enough attention to notice them.

I adore you.

I never want to leave your side.

I want to make you happy.

You make me happy.

I'm yours.

You're mine.

We are husband and wives, a family unit, never to be separated.

You closed your eyes and drifted off.

#uzui tengen x reader #tengen uzui x reader #uzui tengen #tengen uzui #tengen x reader #tengen #kimetsu no yaiba #smut #demon slayer #desi the blue eyed bitch #desi the blue eyed kakushi #tengen smut #angst #kny fic #kny smut #demon slayer fic #demon slayer smut #x reader #kakushino

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yesimwriting · 4 months

Note

hii 💗

so im currently obsessed with best friend!felix and wanted to request that perhaps their relationship evolves to a point where they’re practically dating but they’re both unaware of it

thank youu

a/n omg you understand them so well

----

There are certain expectations attached to Felix's name, weaved into each syllable like delicate stitches in a tapestry that depicts a family crest. You're not unaware of what the world associates with him, not oblivious enough to lack a general idea of what most assume when they think of being close to someone like him.

People would never guess that the best part of being best friends with Felix are the little things, the small gestures that show how careful he can be when he cares.

The girls you usually sit with in your last class changed so drastically when they saw him on the bench outside of your lecture hall. They whispered and giggled and twirled silky hair around their fingers. It made something in your stomach turn to stone... and you still can't figure out why. You'd be hypocritical to fault them for gossip.

They eventually started chatting about the type of girls someone like him must like. That only made things more awkward when Felix finally spotted you and waved you over. They gaped at you, and with Felix waiting, you weren't given the space needed to stumble through an explanation. The only thing you could manage was a shy 'it's not like that' and a sentence you barely remember that used the word 'friend' way too many times to be structurally sound. It didn't stop them from begging you for details next class before you finally walked away.

Now, in Felix's room, his hand on your shoulder, firm enough to be anchoring, you can't help but compare reality with what they must be imagining. The only details you can offer them are mundane. A fact that only makes you more protective of these moments. They wouldn't get it.

You're convinced no one can, so why take their comments to heart? Even Farleigh, who actually does know Felix tries to twist your friendship into something salacious, something worth gossiping about.

"You're tense." His voice comes out so low you're not sure if you're meant to respond. Felix's thumb traces circles against the top of your shoulder. "You said you had a good day today."

Felix reads your mood with a talent that'd make you uneasy if he was anyone else. "I did." The words feel flat, tired, even though your day was objectively good. You had time to stop for a coffee before class, a TA handed back graded exams and you did better than expected, and you finally finished your essay. "Just Tuesday and Thursday classes."

He nods once empathetically, thumb pressing into your skin. "Tired?"

"Yeah."

The two of you are quiet for a moment. Lulls in conversation have a tendency to make you feel the need to compensate. With Felix, the silence never asks to be rushed through. "Want to rest your eyes for a little?"

This wouldn't be the first time you took a nap in Felix's room. It's not exactly a habit--yet--but it's circling that territory. Sometimes he'll go to sleep with you, other times he'll stay up reading to you.

The offer is irritatingly perfect. You want to say yes, but you--ugh. This is what you get for talking to Farleigh. This is ridiculous. There isn't anything unusual or potentially romantic about your friendship with Felix. You're close, and when it comes to Felix, close is all consuming.

You briefly let your eyes shut. "Sounds nice, but I--I have a lot of homework."

In one movement, he lets his hand slip down your arm and his head fall against your shoulder. "C'mon," his breath is warm against your neck, "I'm tired, too."

The weakness in your resolve makes you like yourself a little less. You swallow, mentally preparing yourself to fight against your fondness. "Out late partying?"

He sighs against you, the sound more amused than it wants to be. "Oh, yeah, Oliver and I were out until the ungodly hour of 11:30." You move your arm, nails brushing a few strands of his hair back into place. "I sleep better when you're here."

Felix is always so warm, it's nearly impossible to not get caught up in it. You almost told him that he could have come over. That the movie you went to see with your roommate had ended around 10:30 and that the only reason you were dismissive when he called is because of what Farleigh had said in the library.

Instead, you settle for running your fingers through his hair. "I told you, Nadia and I went to the movies."

He sighs again, the sound a little sharper this time, almost a huff. A smile tugs at your lips. Felix looks up, half-glaring-half-pouting. "You think it's funny?"

"No," you try, extending the syllable in an attempt to prove your innocence.

Something shifts, you feel it before Felix moves. He straightens, taking his weight off you, likely in an attempt to lull you into a false sense of insecurity. You lean back, resting your weight on one hand. The bit of space you're quick enough to create isn't enough to save you.

Felix leans forward, hand finding the shoulder farthest from him. It's instinct to lean back further in an attempt to duck out from beneath his arm. The move paired with a laugh that makes you lose balance proves to be a mistake. Felix is too tall, too inescapable. His other hand finds your side and you have no choice but to let your back hit the mattress.

He's not pinning you down, but he is hovering in a way that makes you think twice about moving. "Felix." It's meant to come off as threatening, but you're still giggling and it only makes him grin.

"What?" You bravely lift an arm, placing your palm flat on his chest. You will yourself to push him away. He pulls a hand back, giving up trapping you in favor of covering the back of your palm with the front of his. "You started it."

"Doesn't sound like me."

His smile widens. "No?"

He pulls your hand away from him, and for a second, you think he might be ready to release you, but then he presses a kiss to the side of your hand. The warmth of the gesture would normally make you dizzy, but with Farleigh's words ringing in your ears...it's impossible to fully relax.

His eyebrows pinch together, "You okay?"

"Yeah," you hum, "Just tired. Like you said."

He gently sets your hand down. "Y'sure you don't want a nap?"

"No." You're only human. "A nap sounds nice. Just need to use the bathroom first."

Felix squeezes your hand once before shifting onto his back. His absence leaches all the heat from your body. Suddenly, it does feel like a damp autumn day.

You sit up, sock clad feet instinctually slipping into Felix's discarded slippers. They're too large, and you always have to remember to watch your step when you steal them, but they're so plush it's worth the caution.

There's a familiar bundle of fabric thrown over the back of the desk chair. You unzip your jacket. The cold air bites at you as you slip off the thin fabric. You grab Felix's jumper, instinctually pulling it over your head. The material engulfs you in his essence.

You shut the door behind you as you step into his bathroom. Why is something so small getting to you so much? And something that Farleigh, of all people, planted in your head. He likes to twist things until they resemble something entertaining or beneficial. We're just friends. Are you sure?

What kind of a question even is that? Obviously, you'd know if you were dating someone. Obviously, you'd know if you were dating Felix. So of course your answer was a little forced and awkward. Farleigh should have teased you about it. Instead, he looked at you oddly, eyebrows pulled together almost sympathetically, and told you he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen anyone be that close with their friends. Not even Felix.

Okay--don't think about it. What does Farleigh know about genuine, platonic friendships?

You turn on the sink. Splashing some water on your face will he--a bottle of moisturizer and face wash. Spares that you had picked up for Felix to try, go to's for you during impromptu sleepovers.

You force yourself to look up. Your reflection stares back at you, Felix's jumper sliding off your shoulder, exposing the sleeve of your shirt.

You dab water against your face before shutting off the sink. Maybe some sleep will help. You'll take your nap, and then you and Felix will wake up, and you'll see that everything's the same.

Felix is already beneath the sheets when you step out of the bathroom. You walk to the edge of the bed, sliding off his slippers before climbing into bed.

"Darling?" You hum in response before craning your neck to look at him. Felix's gaze is fixed on the ceiling. "Are y--Did something happen?" You freeze. Has Farleigh been telling other people what he told you? Did all of it circle back to Felix in some embarrassing way? "With us, I mean?"

The clarification is too small, too uncertain to fit him. You lift your head. "What?" His attention is still on what's above. "No." With a sigh, you lean forward until your chin's resting on his stomach. "Of course we're fine." He tilts his head slightly, eyes finally landing on yours. Felix is quiet for a moment, taking in your expression. Treating him differently isn't fair. "Do you think we're too close?"

His expression falters, the slight concern behind his eyes morphing into something more closed off. "You--you think we're too close?"

"No." You don't even have to think about it. Maybe that's what bothered you about what Farleigh said. You don't want to think about what should be different because you know you don't want to feel less close to him.

He doesn't ease, and you can't blame him. You place a hand on his side, smoothing your thumb up and down the fabric of his shirt. "I--just--the other day, Farleigh ran into me in the library, and we started talking and he made some comments...." Felix groans. "About how close we were, and at first, it just felt like Farleigh, and then he said a lot of people assume things and--I--"

"Who cares what other people think?" Felix shifts, his fingers tracing patterns against your back. "We're happy with how we are."

You smile, "Yeah." It's probably easy to dismiss opinions and rumors when you're someone like Felix. You decide that it's okay to borrow his worldview. "I am happy."

Felix grins, available hand moving to grab yours. He kisses your palm before placing your hand back on his side. He squeezes your hand against the space between his ribs and hip. "I'm happy, too."

You grin, angling your head downwards to press a kiss against his chest before laying down fully. Felix's knuckles run up and down your back. It's soothing, making everything else disappear long enough to let you fall asleep.

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae

i love how much you guys seem to like bestfriend!felix 😭 i have some more requests/fics for him coming,, someone in one of my asks said they weren't sure if i was still taking requests for him and i definitely am,, he's so fun to write for

#saltburn imagine #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #felix catton #bestfriend!felix #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

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tamurilofrivendell · 4 months

Text

Crush | Legolas x Reader

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Summary: Reader is a royal guard who Legolas becomes enamoured by.

Word count: 2,990

requested by anonymous (happy (late, I'm sorry) birthday, I hope this was okay for you)

tags: @coopsgirl @birbixo0912 @desert-fern @ancient-rime @silverose365 @lady-of-imladris @asianbutnotjapanese @deadlymistletoe @thewulf @whiteladyofithilien

It was a recent change, you becoming a royal guard. Once an opening had become available, of course, you lunged at it. You had wanted for a very long time to attain such a position and thankfully your ambition and your skills had not gone unnoticed. You got what you wanted and soon settled straight into the role. Some days your duties seemed endless but you felt like you were protecting your home, helping to defend the realm you so loved, and it made even the most exhausting of days worth it.

This particular day, you were following the king himself around as he went from place to place tending to various different things. Usually Feren himself would have accompanied Thranduil, however he was away from the halls at a nearby settlement and you had been plucked from the rest to be the guard who went with the king this day and you did not think you could be more excited and more eager to not mess up.

It was a long afternoon.

You had gone to a meeting about various boring politics which you had zoned in and out of as you stood at the back of the room behind his chair. Then he'd trailed around various rooms checking on the armoury, the production of various things you didn't expect him to care much about such as cloth and flour, and also to the cellar to check on the wine stores. Now, you were walking away from the orchard, where the Orchardist had given a very unnecessarily in-depth talk about his apples and the large yield of the trees. He'd seemed exceptionally proud, which was nice, but he talked a lot longer than was necessary when it came to something like fruit.

"I think... he certainly knows an awful lot about apples." Thranduil mused as the two of you stepped onto the path. "And now I, too, certainly know an awful lot more than necessary about apples."

You stifled a laugh, not wishing to be rude but truthfully you had been bored stiff the entire time. Thranduil had not looked anything but attentive while you'd been fighting to keep your expression neutral, but he just had more practice than you did.

"It is good that our stores will not run low any time soon." You replied as diplomatically as you could, though the king caught the deeper feelings in your tone and he smirked a little in amusement.

"Indeed." It was, after all, a good thing that the trees produced such large quantities. Not just the apples, either. It meant their crop continued to thrive and they would not starve if he needed to close the gates for any reason. Not that he anticipated anything. "Anyway, I think I will be alright to return to my chambers alone, thank you. You may go."

"As you wish." You nodded, falling out of step with him and watching as he swept away and disappeared round the corner back into the part of the building that led to his private quarters. You stayed where you were for a moment, wondering what to do now, and then you turned around to head back to your own chamber. Perhaps a bath would be a nice idea after such a long day of trudging around and being on your feet.

As you turned, your eyes fell upon another figure a short distance away, sitting underneath a large tree in the courtyard with a bow between his fingers. Prince Legolas seemed to have already been looking at you when your gaze was drawn to him and you blinked, a bit taken aback by that fact. A beat passed and then you stepped towards his direction but his eyes immediately dropped to the bow in his hand as he went back to cleaning it, acting as if you no longer existed. Oh. He must not need anything after all then. You'd thought maybe he recognised your role when you'd been walking with his father but... no matter, you decided, turning away and heading away back down the path.

What you didn't see was the way Legolas' eyes flickered back up to watch your retreat. He had been sitting out here for about an hour now, taking his time while cleaning his bow and enjoying the mild weather. The bow had once belonged to his mother and he took more care of it than he did with his others. He had noticed his father coming through but he had not wanted to draw much attention to himself, the older elf had looked quite worn out. It wouldn't show to anyone else of course but to Legolas it was clear. He almost hadn't paid you any attention at first. When he had, he'd done a double take.

She's beautiful, was his immediate thought, something which brought a faint blush to his cheeks and so he was glad that nobody was paying too much attention to him. You'd made his father smile too, he noticed that, which only raised your merit in his eyes. After a few moments, when you were out of sight, he looked down again and went back to his bow. Interesting.

Three days later, you were one of the guards standing somewhere below the throne, keeping a careful watch while the king went through the rigmarole of people coming before him in audience to ask him for things or bring forward suggestions for his court and the realm.

Legolas walked into the room just as the last elf was escorted out. He strode right up the walkway towards the throne, intent on reaching his father to give him an appraisal of the forest beyond. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered towards where you stood... and he paused, coming to a stop altogether.

"Legolas." His father's deep voice shook him from his trance after a moment and he blinked up at Thranduil, who was looking down at him with a raised eyebrow.

Legolas shook his head, clearing his throat as he forced one foot in front of the other. "Ah... yes." He muttered, willing his cheeks not to flush, which luckily they did not. He launched into a rundown of what he'd seen in the forest and you could only stare at him for a long moment, confused at the prince's unusual behaviour, before you turned your eyes away, focusing them on the entrance to the throne room.

He was gone again quicker than you would have imagined but he stole another glance over his shoulder on his way out, eyes settling on you once again, just for the briefest of seconds, before he disappeared.

As you stared at the space in the doorway he had just occupied, you heard the sound of a snort being smothered from somewhere behind you. Turning, you looked up at Thranduil, who cleared his throat and looked stoic as ever but something about him almost looked amused. A glint in his eyes maybe?

"That is all, you may go." Was all he said as he rose, descended the steps and vanished just as his son had, leaving you staring after him as well. After standing frozen for a long moment, blinking in confusion, you left the room and decided to just put it from your mind. You must be imagining things.

The next two weeks passed in much the same manner. Legolas kept seeing you around everywhere he went as if you were haunting him. It was strange, he thought, that he'd gone so long without a glimpse and then suddenly you were everywhere. He thought he must just be an idiot. Overthinking it. You had not shown any interest and he felt like a bit of a weasel staring at you the way he had. Besides, he did not have time for anything, did he? He had things to do. He was a prince of the realm and he had duties...

...however, his mind did not let him rest. It tormented him with the image of you and eventually he decided he had to just say something, get it out of his system, and then he could go back to the way things were.

So, a day later, he approached you.

You had the day off and you were still trying to figure out how to spend it. You didn't feel like reading, you didn't feel like training, you didn't feel like doing much of anything but you were so bored that wandering around in the halls was driving you a bit mad.

"You look lost." Came a voice from behind and when you turned you saw Legolas standing there. You were startled, not answering immediately because it was the first time he had ever actually spoken to you.

"Mh?" Was your first very clever response, which made your face redden and, in turn, made him laugh. "I mean... uh..." You continued, scrambling to form actual words. He was smiling at you, kindly yes, but it was clear he was amused.

After another moment you laughed as well and the tension seemed to evaporate. "I am bored." You admitted.

"I see." Legolas chuckled, nodding as he turned his head to look around. The realm was quiet today, the halls barely occupied. "I was actually going to go into the forest." He turned his gaze back to your face, telling himself not to get lost in your eyes. "If... if you wanted to join me."

You couldn't be certain but it seemed as if the prince had stammered over his words a little. As much as you had not spent a lot of time around him, from what you'd seen that seemed unusual. A beat passed and then you smiled, nodding. "I'd like that."

His small, almost bashful, smile was enough to send your heart fluttering in your chest as he turned and gestured with his head for you to follow.

The forest was quiet too but in a different way than the halls. There it had felt a little suffocating in your boredom. Here it was peaceful. The change of scenery seemed to do your mind some good... though perhaps the company had something to do with it too.

Legolas was funny, you came to realise, once you got past his quiet, sometimes almost shy-seeming demeanour. He was charming... handsome, but that was not something you only found out today, no you'd thought that for quite some time already.

He took you on a mini tour of his favourite spots and then you both found yourself sitting up in a tree above a small pond, just talking. Getting to know Legolas made your heart stir in a way you would not have imagined. There was something about him, the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, the intent look on his face as he listened to your responses as if he truly did not want to miss a single word, that had your stomach in knots and your eyes glued to his face.

You met him again the next day, and then the next. It became routine that the two of you would spend time together during time off from your duties. You even started sparring together in the training grounds and Legolas seemed impressed by your skill with a blade. You went on walks through the forest. You talked about your lives. He became such a close friend that it was a wonder to you that you had ever not had him in your life in this capacity at all.

One day, while you were both sitting by the river in the afternoon sun, you noticed that he was a little quieter than normal.

"Is everything alright?" You asked him outright after a moment of studying the way the tiniest bit of tension had crept onto his brow where usually there was nothing.

Legolas blinked, turning his eyes from the flowing water to your face. "Hm?" He asked, as if he had not even heard you.

"I asked if everything was alright." You repeated.

Legolas shook his head in response, contradicting himself when his response was a simple: "Oh. Yes, everything is fine."

You did not buy it. A beat passed in which you just stared at him with a raised eyebrow and he shifted under your gaze before letting out a sigh.

"Alright, I confess. There is... something on my mind." He said.

"What?" You asked, watching him glance down at the stick in his hands that he had been fiddling with for a time now. "Legolas." You prompted after a moment.

Legolas swallowed, as if nervous, though you could not understand why he would need to be that way around you. Until he spoke, of course.

"I have been thinking a lot lately." He said, his voice soft, gaze on the river before he gathered the courage to turn his face to look at you once more. "About us."

Us. It was like a magic word that sent a shiver through you as you stared back at him. Did he mean... as in...? You swallowed now, feeling your own nerves rise. "Us?" You asked in a way that urged him to continue.

Legolas nodded slowly, blue eyes studying your face closely. "Yes. Us." He repeated, wishing he had planned out what he wished to say in his mind, but of course he had not planned this moment with you today at all. He had not intended for his thoughts to become visible. "You see, I..." He glanced down, breaking the stick in half before discarding the pieces and looking back up at your face, the one that had plagued his thoughts since that first day he saw you with his father.

In that moment, he decided to just say it. All of it. Just tell you because somehow keeping it inside unspoken was worse. "I like you very much. As... more than just a friend."

The world almost seemed as if it stopped for a moment. A second where everything just froze, your gaze locked with his. Was this actually happening or were you still asleep and this was all some trick of the mind? "What?" Not what you'd wanted to say but it's what came out of your mouth.

Legolas, unfortunately, took this as a bad sign and he looked away again, clearing his throat as a slight crease returned to the space between his eyebrows. "I... I just mean that..." He went quiet.

"No, no..." You said quickly, shaking your head. Damn it! "I meant... well, since when?" You had not dared to think that the prince's interest in you would be anything but platonic. He had never shown any interest in you beyond that!

However, as you thought about it now, yes he had. In the way he spent almost all of his free time with you. The way he listened so closely and intently to every single thing you said, hanging off your every word. The smiles, the lingering glances. The time he'd picked a flower from the forest floor and tucked it behind your ear without saying a thing but the look in his eyes that you'd ignored had said more than any words ever could.

You'd turned a blind eye.

"I like you very much too." You managed. "More than a friend."

Legolas blinked in a way that made him look completely stunned, quickly turning his face back so he could look at you. He was quiet for a moment and then a smile started to spread over his face. "You do?"

You nodded quickly, desperate now not to make him think any longer that you had absolutely no interest. "Of course, yes, I... I was just surprised to hear you say it, I didn't think-"

"I thought I was quite obvious." Legolas half mumbled, chuckling as his cheeks turned slightly pink.

"Oh, you were." You joked, laughing softly. "But... I think... I was not paying attention."

A small, comfortable silence passed between the pair of you as Legolas kept his eyes on your face and you forced yourself not to look away either. His smile widened.

"Then..." He continued after a moment. "If I asked if I could... court you-"

"Yes!" The word flew from your mouth before he could fully finish his sentence, causing colour to creep into your own cheeks as you watched him chuckle with amusement at your eagerness.

"In that case," the prince said, standing up and offering you his hand to help you to your feet. "Tomorrow, we begin properly." His minds eye filled with images of a picnic in a beautiful spot, of getting to know you better than he already did but this time in the capacity he most wished... maybe a kiss, but he would not get too ahead of himself.

"But I have duties." You said, taking his hand and allowing him to pull you up onto your feet, your heart racing at the contact as it always seemed to do, an extra thrill of excitement in it this time. "I stand the throne room tomorrow."

Legolas paused and then waved his hand, turning to lead you back down the trail towards the halls once more. "Leave that to me." He was determined to spend the whole day with you, to begin this courtship properly.

After some prodding as to why Legolas wished to wrangle a day off throne room duty for one of the guards, Thranduil found out about the change in the relationship between you and his son. However, he did not look the slightest bit surprised as he poured some more wine into his cup with a barely concealed smirk.

"I did think it would have taken you a little less time to ask her, my son... but better late than never." Was all he said while Legolas did his utmost not to shift in uncomfortable embarrassment under the amused glint in his father's eye.

#legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas fanfic #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #lotr fanfic #hobbit fanfic #ugh i'm a little out of practice with legolas and he didn't fully cooperate like I wanted him to #but if I fiddle anymore with this I'll delete it lmao

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randomshyperson · 5 months

Text

I Wanna Be Yours - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: Once again separated, Wanda calls and brings news that changes everything, whether for better or for worse, it's still too early to say.

Warnings: (+18), making out, shapeshifting smut, intimate and unprotected s*x, creampie, fingering (both), slightly power dynamics, fluff and mild angst, avengers fighting like a family, brief mention of violence and injuries, some humor. | Words: 7.087k

A/N-> Am I getting too addicted to writing Shapeshifter Reader? Maybe. What can I do, it's so fun. Also, this is kinda late 'cause I spend the whole weekend watching Orphan Black (it's amazing). I hope you all like this, it took me some time, good reading!

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

Limping and bleeding, you kept moving. The suspenders of your uniform were unbuttoned and hanging around your waist, and you grunted in pain as you leaned against the wall of the secure apartment, needing a moment to overcome your fatigue to open the door.

Cleaning the wound in silence was the worst part; your powers were messed up by the whole thing, and even though you tried to change, the blood kept coming out and you were forced to find a sewing kit and solve the problem.

Half an hour later, on the living room carpet still trying to stop shaking, your cell phone rang.

You thought it was Valentina, wanting to know if the whole thing had worked out. You almost cursed under your breath, this checking habit of hers always irritated you; the jobs always worked out, especially if the payment was made in advance. You were a professional, and the attitude carried an insinuation that you would fail, and if Valentina continued with it, perhaps it would be better for her to find someone else for the job.

But in a way, you knew that all this lack of patience had other reasons: with every stray bullet, every insult, and more difficult fight, you wondered what was the point of it all. You remembered Wanda Maximoff smiling at you, kissing you, and started to wonder if taking all that risk was worth anything, especially when crime made it so difficult to have moments with that witch who wouldn't leave your thoughts.

And as if guessing, it was Wanda calling. You smiled immediately, feeling a little excited for the first time that morning.

It had been so long since you heard her voice. After everything that unfolded with the Avengers splitting up and being chased, and this latest intense mission which, despite being very well paid, made it practically impossible for you to visit her. At last, Wanda was calling.

"Little witch." You greeted as soon as you picked up, only to hear a heavy sigh on the other end that made you frown in confusion. "Wanda?"

She sniffled, and you ignored the pain in your body to sit up straight. "I have to tell you something."

"Is everything all right? Are you hurt? Are you with your friends?"

"Detka, please." She interrupts you. "Just listen, okay?"

"Wanda, you're scaring me."

"I'm all right." She assures you straight away. "I'm safe, I promise. But I have... to tell you something. And I need you not to freak out, because I'm scared and if you get scared too, I don't think I can manage."

You sigh uncertainly, but end up agreeing. "I'm listening."

It takes Wanda a whole moment where the only sound is her breathing on the line. Until finally; "I think I'm pregnant." Your immediate reaction is to frown in a mixture of confusion and surprise. You don't say anything because you don't know what to say, and your silence makes Wanda sniffle again. "You have to say something."

You open your mouth, only to let out a short, nervous laugh. "I know, I just... I don't know what."

Wanda sighs, looking like she's trying to control her emotions. "Okay, I didn't expect, well I don't know what I expected. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, we, I can take care of this and then-"

"Wait, what?" you interrupt. "Wanda, take a deep breath, okay? Just give me a second to think." You struggle to get to your feet, and with the injury, let out an involuntary grunt of pain.

Wanda grips the phone tightly. "Where are you? Are you hurt?"

You chuckle weakly. "It's nothing, I've taken care of it."

"Detka..."

"No, that's kind of funny actually." You continue, stumbling around the apartment after your suitcase. "And I don't say this to worry you, love, but I've barely made it out of this mission. I'm losing my touch, I guess, or maybe I just don't want this anymore. And when I was shot, I just had this really sad thought that if I died on that island, no one would care. The shooter would probably be very glad, and my boss would be annoyed at losing money but would surely find someone else for the job. What I'm trying to say is that I had no reason to get up, but then I thought, if I die here, my little witch will see my picture in the news and I don't want to go without saying goodbye. Wanda deserves at least a goodbye. So I got up, shot a few more assholes, and managed to escape to this dingy apartment and sewed myself back together, all the while wondering if this is what I really want to do with my life. The answer is no, Wanda. I don't want to have hundreds of people targeting me and risk my safety for a handful of jewels or whatever other shit I have to steal from narcissistic billionaires scattered around the world. I just want to lie next to you, and watch you laugh at some joke on TV, or have meals next to you and kiss you, you know? And now you call me, to give me the best news in the world over the goddam phone. That's not how it should be." You zipper up a suitcase with a few changes of clothes safely inside. "My only purpose is to be with you, Wanda Maximoff. I don't want to have this conversation miles away from you, so just hold on. I’ll come to you.”

This time, you know she's crying with happiness. She laughs tearfully as she says, "I'll be waiting, detka. Don't be long."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Not surprisingly, the hardest part was getting to Wanda. Being a fugitive in the majority of nations has its disadvantages. It took almost two whole weeks for you to finally arrive at the address Wanda texted you, and unfortunately, you were late.

Only a very angry black widow was there to welcome you.

"I'm going to kill that girl." Nat declared as soon as she laid eyes on you. You tried to wave but ended up jumping in fright when a man's hand touched your shoulder.

Steve Rogers and his nomad beard chuckled at your reaction. "You shouldn't be here, kid."

Recovering from the shock, you grimaced and pushed his hand away with a pat. "Don't kid me, Mr. America. And this is a free country, I can be wherever I want."

Nat chuckled, a hologram coming out from her watch reflecting brightly in the dimly lit room. The Avengers needed better safe houses, not even in your first years of crime did you stay in such a crappy loft.

"That's a great one coming from an Interpol fugitive." He sneers back, but you lift your chin proudly.

"And what's it like being in this position? Have you come down off the moral high ground or do you still think you're better than the rest of us, Rogers?" You challenge, and although you sigh, Steve surprises you.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "She's just like Wanda." He says to Nat from across the room, who clicks her tongue.

"Yep, same punk-ass attitude." Grumbles the widow, but despite the grimace, it sounds more like a compliment than a curse. "I can't believe Wanda thought it was acceptable for her to share the location with anyone."

You snort incredulously. "I'm not 'anyone', Romanoff! I'm her…girlfriend!"

Nat rolls her eyes, ignoring your protest and Steve steps out of the doorway to approach his friend. "So Nat, is the place clean?"

The widow forces a smile. "Apart from the shapeshifter intruder, yes. We've left no clues behind. And considering the agent's new agenda, we're going to have a peaceful few weeks for the time being. Wilson and Maximoff can stop moving for a while."

"Good news at last." Steve commented, but you cleared your throat.

"Any chance of me catching a ride to the place Wanda won't have to flee from?" You ask, and their expression doesn't give you any more confidence. "Okay, I'll wait for her to give me the address and I'll go by myself."

Nat chuckles incredulously, taking a step forward. "It's astonishing how irresponsible you two are." She says. "I know it must be hard for you to think of anyone but yourself, but you need to stop putting her at risk."

You snort. "The only astonishing thing here is your judgment, Romanoff. Acting like you were born a hero. Have you forgotten everything you did before the Avengers or Shield?" You retort. "You're no better than me."

But Nat snorts, nodding. "The difference is that I never had a choice. I was trained from birth for it, I didn't know any other life until Barton and Fury gave me a chance. You revel in chaos."

You don't lose posture, even as emotion begins to rise in your chest. "You know nothing about me."

"But we know about Wanda." Steve interrupts the conversation, as accusatory as the widow. "After everything that happened in Sokovia, she's our responsibility. Our family. It's not something anyone who isn't an Avenger can understand. And I know that she was vulnerable with the loss of her brother and that you took advantage of it."

You take a step forward, shocked by such a low accusation. "Take that back! I would never-"

"Oh, cut it out." Steve insists. "We all know about the kind of work you do, manipulation and lies are your specialties. Your signature is to deceive." He accuses, and for the first time, Nat flinches. Because the whole conversation could easily be handed back to her, and perhaps already has been by other people. "What's all this about? What do you want from Wanda?"

"Not everything is about work. Maybe I just fucking love her!"

Steve laughs incredulously. "Oh please-" But Nat interrupts the whole thing with an annoyed snort.

"That's enough, both of you."

The captain looks at her with some surprise. "Come on Natasha, you don't really believe she's serious." He is careful to lower his tone, like a private conversation between the two of them, an almost silent agreement about letting you go or not. Still, in that empty place, it's easy to hear what they're saying. "Weren't you the one who always says that love is for children?"

The joke is not well received. Natasha takes on a hard expression as she faces Steve. "Do you really want to discuss this, Rogers? When we're all risking our necks over your feelings for Barnes?"

Steve steps away dumbfounded. "It's not like that! We're freeing someone innocent! The right thing-"

"Would be to bring him to justice." Natasha interrupts without losing her tone. "The morally and legally right thing would be to bring the person responsible for 100 years of crimes to justice. There's no other answer, no other way around it. But he's family, and you're family. And that's why I'm here, and all the others who will stand by your side and go against the law and risk their necks, jobs, and safety. Things aren't as black and white as this right and wrong discourse and by now I'd hoped you'd be able to recognize that better, Steve."

He looks away, embarrassed and thoughtful. Nat sighs and takes the opportunity to approach you again.

"I can give you a ride. Just don't make me regret it, okay?"

For the moment, that's all Natasha offers in solidarity with you. It's the kindest thing an Avenger - excluding Wanda of course - has ever given you. It instantly makes Nat your favorite.

Steve doesn't accompany you two to the safe place. He says he needs time to think, and from the looks he exchanges with Nat, it's not hard to deduce that he's going after the Winter Soldier. You don't know where Sergeant Barnes is, but you have the impression that they do. It's not your place to question or monitor Steve Rogers' movements, so you just respond to the polite nod of farewell he gives you.

He takes the stolen airship, which is a shame because you love riding in those - Valentina's vehicles were never that sophisticated, but you've already managed to steal one of those from Shield and the ride was a lot of fun until you had to dispose of the aircraft in the Caribbean.

Natasha gets a truck, which makes you assume that the location can't be that far away. It's an incorrect conclusion because she comments on buying train tickets.

You fall asleep in your seat. That must win you some points with Nat, who is surprised that you trust her enough to sleep because when you wake up from a very nice dream with Wanda, she starts small talk.

Accords, favorite crimes, and the morally superior attitude of some agents. Natasha giggles at one of your stories - about getting compromising items from government leaders - and you consider it a personal victory. She herself has stories about missions from her time as Black Widow which, if you don't consider the horror of her childhood, were kind of amusing. It's probably that you're the only person Nat can tell these things to without any kind of judgment. Equal to equal.

She's almost at the nearest station when, at the signal, she surprises you completely.

"I know about the baby."

You blink at her surprised eyes. "Did she tell you?"

But Nat denies it, without taking her gaze off the road now that the two of you are reaching a busier area. Even with the different appearance, the blonde hair being something to get used to, she has to be careful.

"They ran tests before admitting her to the raft. With all of us that they managed to capture at the airport, in fact." says the widow. "It was to categorize skills, check for injuries, but they ended up finding something else."

You sigh, also paying attention to the surroundings and any curious civilians who risk looking inside the vehicle. Everyone seems busy with their own problems, but you also check the streetlights for surveillance cameras.

"She must have been so scared." You whisper, and the guilt surprises Nat. You swallow dry before adding: "I should have been with her."

"What happened, happened. It wasn't really an outsider's fault."

You smile sadly, it's not exactly reassuring, Natasha doesn't seem to be very good at these things, but she's kind enough. She means that the Avengers' fight was something between them and that it wouldn't make sense for you to blame yourself for Wanda's imprisonment. Even so, you feel you could have prevented it if you'd convinced her to run away with you. But again, how different would the life you could offer her would be?

"When I heard about the Raft, she was already gone." You say. "I guess I should thank you for being so fast in getting her out."

Nat chuckles briefly, turning the steering wheel towards the streets beyond the parking lot. This car will probably be abandoned there.

"It wasn't me who got her out, so no." Retorts the widow. "You must have seen the fight on television, the way we were divided." She waited for you to nod in agreement before continuing. "The team that was left standing, Tony’s side I suppose, helped capture the others. Fighting with Steve. But when the tests were done, General Ross got very nervous. He was afraid the story would leak, and the image of a young terrorist that the media had planted would turn against him, now that it was a pregnant woman being beaten and handcuffed in front of the cameras. His anxiety alerted the others, and well, Stark may be many things, but as soon as he knew the truth, he got her out of there. Vision confirmed the whole thing, he's got some scanning abilities or something. And I think they come up with some story and Vision was supposed to chase her after the vehicle she was in left the route, but Wanda was never found by Ross again. I know Vision and Tony help her. And then she was the first of us to catch up with Steve."

Natasha parks the car. She almost thinks you're busy absorbing the story when you pull something out of your pocket and hold it out to her.

"It was sent to me while I was in Greece. I guess this is my way of making us even." In your hand is the file of a job you rejected a few weeks ago. To track and recover a package of stolen vials, of a defector last seen in Morocco. Unknown contractor, but payment of half a million dollars in advance.

"You should have taken it, the money was good." Nat commented as she grabbed the photo of the vials attached to a small one of her face with her hair still red, carrying market bags somewhere in Norway, the place where the last trace and possible suspect was seen.

You gave her a short smile, now that Nat had parked the car, she busied herself flipping through the old file.

"I missed my chance." You mutter. "What about you, Romanoff? Did you miss yours?"

She mimics your smile, shaking her head. "No. This time, I finished off the bastards." She assures you, nodding. "I didn't get the chance to kill Dreykov myself, but someone who deserved it more did it for me."

You nod, respecting Natasha's choice not to delve deeper into that painful subject. You know just enough about the Red Room, and one of the few things is that General Dreykov was the leader and that Romanoff should have killed him years before. If she did it now, the mission must have been to put an end to the whole thing.

"I kept monitoring Ross, after everything that happened. I heard you made a fool of him when you ran off alone from the team he set up for you."

She shrugged, a smile hiding the pride of her own abilities. From the car, you took only a backpack that she had prepared, and you weren't surprised to see Natasha take out a lighter and burn the files before throwing them in the nearest garbage can.

Side by side and with your heads down, you walked to the station.

-&-

Wanda has a bit of a meltdown. It's the hormones, you're sure of it.

She jumps on your neck, expelling a sort of magical wave of excitement that makes you almost too cocky to recognize how happy she is to see you.

Natasha gets worried because the windows rattle and the last thing anyone needs is to draw more attention to themselves. She and Sam exchange a quick nod, and the widow mumbles something about the two of them heading out to restock supplies and you know it's a favor so you and Wanda have time to talk alone. The Falcon is confused by the whole thing, and you hear some distant questions along the lines of "Since when do we call the bad guys to the team" before Natasha closes the door.

Not that Sam Wilson's opinions are worth anything when Wanda pulls your face to hers and kisses you with all the longing she's been feeling.

It's passionate and intense and makes your heart soar. You break into a dopey smile like hers, nearly dizzy with love to the point of not being able to say anything. Wanda, as close as humanly possible, speaks first in a husky tone:

"You took your time."

The teasing makes you smile, and without stopping smiling, you start playing with the loops of her jeans.

"Sorry, darling, you changed your address too quickly. You're getting good at this fugitive life, aren't you, Maximoff?" Your question almost goes unanswered when you decide to make a path of chaste kisses from her cheeks to jaw and to her neck. Wanda sighs affectedly, trying to keep her eyes open.

One of her hands goes to your hair, and she giggles when she feels it grow a few centimeters between her fingers. You nibble her ear before looking her in the eye and are greeted by dilated, curious pupils.

"Why have you changed?" she asks quietly, her fingers still assessing the new length of your hair.

You scrunch up your nose, a gesture that has become habitual with the witch snuggled up to you. "I'm just following your friend's safety tips." You explain casually. "All I need is a cap and sunglasses and my Avenger disguise is complete."

Wanda snorts good-naturedly, knowing full well that you're making fun of the bad disguise she was wearing when you two first met. To be fair, Natasha has always believed that the simplest is the most effective, and so far, most Avengers have managed to go unnoticed with just glasses and a cap, no matter how ridiculous it may seem.

"Maybe I should follow her example." Wanda then comments, and although she seems to be focused on what she's saying, you're surprised to realize that her hands have reached down to remove your belt. "What if I get some blue highlights?"

Your laugh is a little hoarse and distracted because Wanda has thrown the belt into some corner of the apartment and is pulling you both backward, probably to where her bedroom should be.

"I guess you either go big or go home."

She hums thoughtfully, perhaps making some mental note of the matter. You're more focused on the way she slips her hands inside your blouse and scratches your stomach, biting her lip as she feels your muscles twitch.

Wanda closes the bedroom door with her foot, and you don't put up any resistance to feeling her lips on yours, hungry and impatient this time.

The kisses are too hot for you to think coherently, but you hear the last remnants of reason to hold a half-naked Wanda by the waist.

She, as breathless as you, looks at you with some concern and confusion at the interruption.

"Is something wrong?" Wanda asks hoarsely.

You swallow dry, your hands on her waist. "It's okay, it's just..." And suddenly, you seem very shy. You can feel your cheeks flushing, and maybe you should force your body not to have this kind of reaction, but you never do that with Wanda. You don't have to hide things from her. She looks at you expectantly, her hands caressing your shoulders as a way of reassuring you. "Hm, I was wondering, are we supposed to be doing this when you're...." And you looked down a little, at her belly, until Wanda understood.

She broke into a shy giggle, then looked up at you. "Oh, darling, you're so adorable." She declares, stealing a kiss before tenderly explaining; "It's still early, very early. I imagine it's only going to start being a problem towards the end, and well, I'm going to be a nervous, angry, horny mess by then and I think you'd better not dare deny me that kind of relief!"

You nod foolishly, panting that you will certainly do whatever she wants. Wanda's face takes on a new color, and she bites back a smile, her eyes darkening.

"Whatever I want? I like the sound of that." She retorts, leaning in to break the distance again. The next kiss is almost a shut-up, charged with naughty intentions. She sucks on your tongue and you practically whimper. It's such a submissive sound that it surprises you both for a moment. "Oh, moya lyubov (my love), parenthood has turned you into a whiny mess..."

You groan in a mixture of embarrassment and arousal, turning your face away. "And it made you quite mean, apparently."

She doesn't allow you to be grumpy. She grabs your chin and pulls off your pout with a kiss that's dirtier than the last. You can only moan in response, and when Wanda determinedly gropes her way into your pants, not bothering with foreplay, and is greeted by a dampness so massive it could be embarrassing, it's she who breaks into a moan.

"Fuck, I almost forgot how damn hot you feel on my fingers." You even try to regain some control of the kiss, to get that cocky attitude out of your girlfriend, but there's no way to do it when Wanda sinks two fingers inside you, as deep as the position allows. All that rips through your lips is a throaty moan. Wanda giggles mischievously at your reactions. "I really can't choose, baby. Having you squeezing my fingers or buried inside me. If you can keep up the pace, do you think we could try the second one later?"

It wasn't really a difficult request to comply with - until it was, because Wanda was more insatiable than usual. The first orgasm on the armchair was not even close to being enough for her. Neither for you, to be fair.

Wanda seemed to have discovered something new - a dominant attitude that you both hadn't yet explored. As far as you're concerned, whatever Wanda wishes will work for you. You're there to please her, simple as that.

She seems to have no restrictions on the ways this can happen. With her fingers deep inside you, her tongue swirling across your clit or changing positions, and sitting on your face and coming messily until she's squirming all over the sheets.

She already came four times when you sense a change of attitude, and the connection between you and her is so intimate, that Wanda has barely adjusted herself on the bed and you're already hugging her from behind, your arms around her and your mouth busy marking her neck. She gives you a sleepy smile, looking truly ruined for the first time all night. It suddenly occurs to you that she'll tire more easily now.

You kiss behind her ear and adjust your hips. Wanda sighs as she feels the familiar hardness rubbing up against her ass.

"Don't tell me you don't have some energy saved up for your own challenge?" You tease next to her ear, grinding gently into her. The friction elicits heavy sighs from both of you, and Wanda grabs your hand that rests on her belly before entwining your fingers together.

“Just one more, dorogoy (sweetheart).” She whispers as she guides your hands into her chest. Your free one helps yourself fit into her, and the same moment you grope her naked breast, playing with the hard nipple, you bury your cock inside her. Wanda lets out a sinful moan, her velvet walls welcoming you with a breathtaking heat. You nearly came with the mere state of being inside her - the way she squeezes you takes you off orbit for a moment.

You wanna be gentle, she’s a pregnant lady for god’s sake. But it seems that Wanda expects just the opposite the second you move - She takes the lead of the movements, your hips serving as a lever for her to rock back into your cock. You have to bite her shoulder to keep yourself from coming, and her response is to hold your hand thingly against her breasts, a single request for you to keep stimulating her nipples.

There’s no way to keep this peace for long - Wanda herself feels her body betraying her a short moment after, the deep strokes of your cock taking her to blinding pleasure now for her to do more than drool into her pillow. You found a sweet spot and she arches her back, a new wave of arousal dripping down her thighs.

She struggles to catch a breath - trying to tell you she's close. There’s no need, really. You can feel the tightness increasing, and it’s impossible for you to hold it when Wanda finally comes. She cries out your name and her body goes stiff the next second. Your cum stays inside her, just like your cock.

“That was… fuck…” She tries to form a thought, all tingly, with numb, tingling legs. You kiss her shoulder, slowly rocking your hips only to hear her soft protest. “Too much, babe.”

After so many orgasms, that’s not a surprise. But Wanda feels so tender, it’s so addictive. You move a hand down, to play with her clit between her fingers and she can’t help but whine.

“Who’s the whiny mess, now?” You tease and Wanda's attempt at response turns into a deep groan when you thrust into her powerfully, enough to shake the bed. She chokes into a moan next when you start to catch a rhythm. Your fingers, toying with her neglected clit almost bring her to insanity.

The next climax comes faster than the last, and it’s harder. You have your face buried in her neck, your bodies entangled together as you move inside her. Wanda presses her face into her pillow when she comes, pleasure tears wetting the bed like her squirt. You groan against her skin when you fill her up this time, balls deep into her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your rusky moans in her ear prolong her climax - she can feel herself squeezing the emptiness when you pull out. A mess of white cum coming out from both of you. It’s such a dirty sexual act to stroke yourself a little longer, to spread out every drop of your pleasure into her skin.

Everything, every drop, belongs to Wanda. It’s all hers, because of her.

Suddenly, she wishes she could do the same. Fill you up too, and own every version of your pleasure. This thought is written into her brain and pushed away so she can call your name. Your warm arms are around her before she can miss them.

“I should get you clean up.” You whisper and she holds closer.

“Later.” It’s all she whispers back, being defeated by her exhaustion next.

You kiss the top of her forehead once she falls asleep, a smile on your lips before you allow yourself to give up on the tiredness as well.

-&-

If it hadn't been for the memories of last night and the sweet scent you knew, your natural reaction would have been to jump away in alarm at the soft caress in her hair. But you knew it was Wanda, and instead of running away, you sank your face against her neck and felt her giggle slightly, her heart racing before settling down.

She adjusted a little a minute later, and with a husky voice in your ear, whispered; "You have to get up, darling. We should talk."

Despite the soft tension that rose in your shoulders, Wanda's request was really just that. As a matter of course, it made you almost displeased that she would hold something like that back so as not to bother you.

You hummed in agreement and placed a chaste kiss on her neck before pulling away. Wanda watched you expectantly, but you just stretched and pulled the covers off as if nothing important needed to be discussed.

She couldn't contain her own anxiety. "Are we going to talk now?"

You chuckled briefly, glancing at her for a second before looking around the room for your clothes. "I think we need to eat something first."

"Y/N..."

"I'm not avoiding the conversation." You interrupt her sincerely, to reassure the fears she can't hide from her eyes. You offer her a smile, your hands clutching the pants you've just found. "I'm just hungry. And I know you are too. This isn't an unpleasant topic, Wanda, it's just going to be difficult. For obvious reasons." You gesture softly, signaling to the hideaway room, so different from the fancy one she lived in in the tower. By instinct or not, once your pants are on, you also gently stroke the knife scar on your abdomen. Wanda knows exactly what you mean. "I think we're going to need a real plan. But I really don't want to come up with one on an empty stomach."

She nods, trying to smile but almost grimacing. Wanda is so nervous. All the passion of last night and the excitement of meeting you again are now calming down, and reality is coming back to her. You finish dressing and offer one last smile of reassurance before leaving the room in search of something to eat, and Wanda's immediate reaction is to put a hand over her belly.

She gasps softly. Her magic is able to feel life growing there. Her eyes fill with tears.

Looking around, she spots some mold on the walls. She notices some of Natasha's stolen surveillance equipment tucked away in a corner so they can track the agents and breaks down a sob.

How could she let this happen? How could she be so irresponsible as to think of having children in such a condition? Even before, she no longer had a home. Living with the Avengers was almost a favor, an employment contract. And what kind of mother could she be in a superhero routine anyway?

And on top of everything, her child won't be able to meet her uncle either, buried in a land she once called home.

Wanda only realizes she's in the middle of an anxious thoughts spiral because suddenly a voice is calling her name. Your face comes into focus again, and she realizes that you're trying to help her breathe.

Great, a panic attack was all she needed.

"Hey, baby, it's okay, I'm here with you. Just breathe, okay?" you guided, gesturing for her to imitate your breathing. In a corner of the room, a breakfast tray smelled very good. Wanda tried to follow your lead, naming five objects she could see. She could see eggs, bacon, waffles, and orange juice. She could see a shiny chain with a small ring around your neck.

"Where did you get this?" She asks breathlessly about the item, and you smile pleased to see that she is coming to her senses.

"China, three years ago. I was working at the time, and I had a bad habit of keeping souvenirs." You say, stroking her hair. "It was in my pocket, and I put it back while I was in the kitchen. That's why you didn't get a chance to see it last night. Do you like it?"

She hums in agreement, having to close her eyes for a moment. You wait, wiping away her tears until Wanda has calmed down completely.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She starts as soon as she can speak without crying. You mumble that it's okay, but Wanda keeps talking. "I just started thinking about how we're going to do this. How are we going to raise a child in this kind of life? We don't even have a home, let alone money. What if I end up in prison again, and they want to take my baby away and-"

"Wanda, calm down, nothing like that is going to happen." You interrupt but she shakes her head.

Just a second later, she breaks into a sob. "I'm so scared." She confesses tearfully.

You look into her eyes.“I’m scared too.” You confess in the same, a relief laugh escaping your lips now that you’re both being honest with each other for good. “I’m nearly petrified, to be fair. But it’s alright, Wanda. It is. Because for the first time in my life, I am not alone. I have you and you have me, and as luck would have it, a bunch of grumpy superheroes as well. We don’t have to be so scared, we got this. I’m here for you, sweetheart.”

She sniffles, getting shy all of a sudden. Her gaze goes to her lap before she finds your eyes again. And then she whispers: “I love you.”

You blink widened eyes at her, caught off guard. Wanda swallows, but then she smiles. She never needed words anyway; Your actions towards each other were always more than enough, not only for her but for the whole world to see exactly how much you cared for one another.

“You don't have to say anything-”

“I love you too.” You cut her out, a bit out of breath. Wanda can feel her cheeks growing pink and it doesn’t help that yours are doing the same. But you giggle shyly then, letting her go to cover your red face for a moment. “Shit, why does that feel so weird? My chest is so warm…” Your reaction elicits a hearty chuckle from her.

“Perhaps you’re allergic to love confessions.” She teases, receiving a playful warning stare before you bring your arms around her once more, to pull her closer and on your lap. Wanda doesn’t waste time in pressing her lips to yours, smiling into the kiss like yourself.

You break apart to tell her: “Don’t get so cocky, but you’re the first person I said that to.” She hums contently, her fingers playing with the hair on your nape. You stare at her eyes for a moment, just memorizing every aspect of her face as if she would ever leave your mind, until both of you are scrunching up your noses, making funny faces at each other and breaking into shared giggles the next.

You could marry her, right now at that second. Instead of asking, you just let out a deep breath and hug her again. The atmosphere of the room changed to a comfortable so intimate that for a second, you could believe that dirty hideout room was actually a home.

"We’re gonna be alright, Wanda." You whisper next. “I won’t let anything bad ever happen to you again.”

She sighs, breaking the hug to look at you. Her soft hands caressing your cheeks. “You can’t promise that, and it’s okay. Because I love you and I can do anything with you here.”

You kiss her briefly. “I can promise. I just did, the universe can fuck off, I’ll stand by my girl.” It’s your stubborn response before you break the distance again to kiss her.

For the first time in a long while, Wanda doesn’t feel so scared. She trusts you entirely, even if your promise is impossible and the future holds a nearly dangerous uncertainty. You’ll take care of her and she’ll do the same for you.

She allows herself to push away real life, at least during breakfast. Sharing food in bed, giggling like two love-stuck teenagers. Making love in her bed all day, whispering sweet nothing to each other.

Until it’s time to get up and face reality.

Despite the evidence of your previous activities - matching set of hickeys and borrowed clothes - none of the Avengers pay any mind to that. Sam is clearly getting used to your presence, but he offers a grin at Wanda’s state before focusing on Natasha’s repeating security tips for him.

The widow is about to ask you and Wanda for a chat, you both can see in her expression that she wants to know how the whole baby thing will work out from now on when her cell phone rings. She steps out for a moment, muttering to whoever is on the other side - Wilson tells Wanda that’s probably Steve wanting to share locations and wondering if everything is alright. But when Natasha comes back to the room, she’s tense and serious.

She takes a deep breath and looks at Wanda.

“Clint decided to make a deal. For his family.” She says. Doesn’t take much explanation for you or Sam to understand that the Feds got him and instead of going back to the raft, he got himself some special conditions considering his service history. Wanda, out of surprise or denial, stares back at Nat with confused eyes. The widow sighs. “He’s not coming back.”

You don’t know everything about the Avengers dynamics, but you know about Wanda. And how much she cared for Clint since the man was some sort of mentor for her. That and well, Pietro gave his life for him so that has to mean something. Clint was supposed to take care of Wanda, not just turn his back on her like that. She didn’t need to join the team or this fight, but she did, at his request, and now he didn’t even bother to look after her, to make sure she was safe and well before taking deals that wouldn’t allow them to see each other for quite some time.

The saddest part is that Wanda understands it. Family comes first, after all. So even though it made her sick to her stomach, she wasn’t his daughter. Not really.

“It’s okay.” She forces a smile, trying to look “okay” for Natasha’s pitiful eyes. “Seriously, Nat. It’s fine. I hope it was a good one. Maybe Sam should try it too, he has family as well.”

Wanda is clearly taking the focus out of her, and because you can see her shaking, you take her hand. She instinctively leans into you, finding some calming comfort in your heat.

Sam scratches behind his head, a little unsure of how he became the center of attention suddenly. “Hm, yeah, but… I should wait a little. I mean, my sister is fine. She has nothing to do with any of this, so I think she can manage to be without my help for a few more weeks.”

Natasha merely shakes her head in knowledge, her attention on the witch pretending everything was fine. “Sure thing Wilson.” She mutters. “Wanda, I know Clint wanted to say goodbye, but he just… needed to make a choice.”

Yep, that definitely didn’t help Wanda feel any better. You offer Nat a look, but the widow is almost too terrible at the whole consolation thing.

“What I mean-”

“He chose his family. I got it the first time, Nat, I didn’t need it to hear it twice.” Wanda cuts off, very harshly. Hurt. “Like I said, it’s fine. I’m not a fucking child, I can understand why he did it. He was three kids and Nathaniel is just a baby.”

You try to ease the tension on Wanda’s shoulders by kissing the exposed skin of her neck. She smiles sweetly, still upset but appreciative of your gesture. The scene seems to make Nat remember something very important.

“Well, speaking of babies…”

Turns out the other Avengers forgot to mention that to Sam. He got very loud and excited.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff fics #heart shaped #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff smut

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sarawritestories · 17 days

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Unwavering Presence Chapter 13

Cassian X Archeron Sister

Summary: Cassian won't leave Y/N alone in hopes she will at least talk to him, giving her the best gifts money could buy. Perhaps material things are not the way to earn her forgiveness...

Content Warnings: Low self worth

A/N: We're kicking off the 1000 Follower Celebration with a bang!! WOO HOO. I once again can't Thank you enough for your love and support!

Also, we are getting so close to a portion of the story that I have been plotting since day one and I'm so excited. Though I highly doubt you all will be when we get there.

Word Count: 4.3 K

Also thanks @prythianpages for giving me a new banner to use 😍😍

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Chapter 12

I awoke to knocking on my door fully aware of who was on the other side. Not moving I tucked the blanket closer to my chin, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping he would leave. When I didn’t answer, the doorknob began to jostle, “Princess, can we talk please?” Cassian’s voice carried through the wood. “I want to make this right.” He continued to knock on the door.

I closed my eyes and sent my emotions down my tattoo; my direct link to Rhys. Hoping he and Feyre were on their way back from the Summer Court.

Cassian’s knocking finally ceased, and I could breathe easier. Inhale…Exhale…

Angel Rhys’ voice rang out in my head, What’s wrong?

Tears prickled my eyes as Cassian’s cold stare from the night before came to the forefront of my mind, “You can barely take care of yourself.” His words rang in my ears.

Can you or Az get me? I sniffled.

Why? Did something happen to Cassian? Are you in Danger? Rhys’ voice sounded panicked.

Take a look I brought the memories from the night before for him to see.

Me or Az? Was all he asked; his voice was a lethal calm.

Az, Please.

He is on his way, Angel. I want you to know no one thinks you’re helpless. We love you.

I cracked a smile. Thanks Rhys.”

Rhys left my mind, and I closed my eyes and let sleep consumed me once more.

The sound of shouting jolted me awake. It took me a moment to distinguish the yelling. It was Azriel’s voice that carried throughout the cabin. He. Was. Angry. I slid out of bed, grabbed my robe and opened my door just enough to peek through.

“You’re not taking her!” Cassian snarled his siphons blaring. His face held a mixture of emotions I didn’t care to decipher.

Azriel’s siphons flared in response. “She asked for me. This is Rhys direct order. I’m taking her home.” Cassian swung at the Shadow Singer only for Azriel’s shadows to flair out and push him to a chair.

I stepped out of the room as shadows pinned Cassian to the chair. “Azriel.”

Both males looked over at me Cassian had a pained look on his face and opened his mouth to speak. Az’s shadows wrapped over his mouth as Azriel glared at him. “You don’t get to speak.” Cassian lunged at Azriel, and I jumped back gasping. Cassian slammed back in the trail trying to fight Azriel’s shadows and I moved closer to the Spy Master. His hand slipped through mine and Cassian glared as his hazel eyes, cold and unyielding as he watched our hands intertwine.

Always hoping someone will save you. Cassian’s words swirled in my head and when our gazes meet, I can tell that he knows what words are filtering through my head, as his gaze shifts from cold to guilty. I tried releasing Azriel’s hand, but he gripped tighter. “She is going to gather her things and we are going to leave.” Cassian dipped his head, “Rhys expects you home in three days’ time. Meaning that he does not want to see you until then. Nod if you understand, Cassian.” Cassian gave a nod. “Good.” Azriel led me to my room, and he shut the door, and I closed my eyes my heartbeat racing. My thoughts began to overtake my senses.

Weak

Pathetic

Worthless

You don’t belong with him. You don’t belong with anyone.

You. Don’t. Belong.

I choked on a sob leaning against the bed post. Shadows swirling up to my cheeks, kissing away my tears.

“Come on,” I opened my eyes as Azriel’s hands gripped my shoulders, “Let’s get your things.”

Azriel helped me pack my things, I slipped out to the door and headed back to Cassian. Hearing the chair shift as I headed toward the door the Shadow Singer in tow, calling out my name, though muffled by the shadows. Azriel opened the door, letting the sun in and I turned to look at Cassian. His hazel eyes lined with silver, there was pleading there. Don’t go, please, they said.

“Goodbye, Cassian.” A sob escaped and his shoulders began to shake violently as tears streamed down his cheeks. Something felt heavy against my chest, and I had to battle the urge to go to him and wipe his tears. Azriel guided me outside and shut the door behind him, muting the sounds of the General of the Night Court’s Army’s cries.

Wrapping my arms around Az’s neck he grips my waist my bag in his other hand, and he shot us up to the sky. “You, okay?” He asked.

“I just want to go home.” I said, fighting off my own tears. Az shadows consume the two of us as he winnows us to the streets of Velaris. He put me down but gripped my hand as he led us to the town home. The sidra glistening against the morning sun. I instinctively leaned my head against his arm, trying not to focus on the male we left behind.

We walked in silence for a couple beats before nudged me with his shoulder. “You know for what its worth. I know he is remorseful.”

I rolled my eyes, “How could you possibly know that?”

Az smirked, “He could have easily broken away from my shadows. Had them skittering back to me without blinking an eye.” I lifted my head to meet his eyes. His hazel eyes held no hint of humor. “He is one of the most powerful Illyrian, Archeron.”

We reached the town home, and I gripped his elbow halting him in his tracks. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying he chose to stay in that chair.” Azriel’s shadows swirled around my wrist. “He didn’t want to frighten you.”

I crossed my arms, “That’s not good enough.”

Azriel lips pressed in a tight line for a moment. “I know. I would be disappointed in you, if it was enough for you.” He cupped my cheek and kissed my forehead, “Make him suffer, Archeron.”

I gave him a smile, “I’ll make him the Lord of Tears Shed.”

Azriel barked a laugh, “I’m stealing that.”

“Go for it.” I smiled as we headed into the house.

“Rhys, Feyre and Amren are almost back.” Az gracefully changed the subject.

“Were they successful?”

Az’s face turned grim, “Yes.”

“But?”

“But it came at a price.”

I sighed, “It always does. How bad?”

Azriel smiled, “Let’s just say Cassian isn’t the only one banned from the Summer Court anymore.”

Cassian’s POV

A fist collided with my cheek while I was at the training ring, Rhysand’s ring digging into my skin. Blood pooled in my mouth the metallic taste assaulting my taste buds. “You called her weak.” I lifted my head for Rhys to hit another blow on the opposite cheek. Blood spattered on the rock as it sprayed out of my mouth. “You called her worthless.”

I snarled, “I never called her that. I would never call her that!”

It was Azriel’s voice that spoke next, “That’s exactly how she felt though! She opened up to you about her deepest insecurities, things she hadn’t even told Feyre about! You used that insecurity and threw it back in her face.” Azriel’s flickered with anger, his shadows swirling around him clearly agitated.

“You know who also does that, Cassian?” Rhys’ voice is calm as my gaze meets him. At that moment, Rhysand was not the High Lord, or my friend. He was being a protective brother. “Nesta. She has spent most of her life with that kind of torment. I would believe that Xavier did it too.” He wound up his arm and felt the crunch of my nose. “Feyre told me that she kept to herself. That she doesn’t trust easily. She trusted you. For whatever reason, you made her feel safe.” I could hear one of my ribs cracking. “Why?”

I fell to my knees, “I was angry.” I hang my head low, blood dripping on the concrete. “Devlon got under my skin, and I was pissed.” My breathing was labored. I went straight to my room to prevent myself from lashing out, but she followed me.” The tears could fall before I could stop them. “She wanted to help.”

“And then you said she was barely able to help herself.” Rhys roared. “That she was always waiting for one of us to help her.” He knelt and gripped my face tightly. “Imagine how she feels, in a place where most fae hate her kind. Imagine how she felt when the first time she went back to the one place she should feel safe in, she was taken. She absolutely should expect us to be there for her. Because should any of our enemies get to her, she may not actually stand a chance.”

“I know.” I wheezed. “I want to make this right.”

“Go to Madja and get healed.” Rhys said, his violet eyes cold. “I still need my general to breathe.” With that he took to the skies, likely checking in on Y/N. Leaving me alone with my best friend. His face cold, no playful glint in his eyes.

Azriel stalked over to me, his face was one I’ve seen before; one he used on his for the poor souls in his dungeons. I dipped my head, blood dripping past my lips. Az gripped my hair yanking my head back to meet his gaze. His shadows swirled as his lips turned into a snarl. “Fix. It.” He tugged my hair harshly once more. “And pray to the mother that she forgives you.” His knee collided with my chest, the underlying threat clear as I collapsed to the harsh gravel, trying to regain my breath. As Azriel left me in the training ring with my thoughts.

I tried to take a deep breath the searing pain of my abdomen screamed in response. This was what I deserved. No pain would ever compare to seeing Y/N’s eyes look so broken at my words. I had a plan I just hoped she would hear me out.

Rhysand had other plans. “I’m not arguing with you about this.” My brother crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair. “You’re going.”

I clenched my fist. “How can I fix things if Y/N is here and I’m dealing with her insufferable sister.”

“She won’t even be in the same room as you for longer than five minutes. You can make your sad attempts at forgiveness when you return.”

I slammed my fist on his desk, “You’re a prick. You know that.”

“Watch it, brother. I could ban you from seeing her at all.” Rhys’ voice was even, his voice void of any emotion.

“You wouldn’t do that.” I whispered. “You know how much she means to me.”

Rhysand stood placing his palms on the desk in front of him eyes dark. “You want to wager on that?” I remained silent and his words softened, “As much as I want you to fix this. I need my General right now. I’m not saying this to hurt you, Brother, but she doesn’t need you right now.”

I pressed my lip in a tight line. “Fine.” I turned to walk away. I opened the door.

“Cass, she will come around you know?” I walked out the door leaving his question unanswered and took off to human lands. Though the hairs on the back of neck tingled, unease coiling in my belly, as I had the sense someone was staring at me. I wouldn’t turn to see Mor’s smug face.

I met Nesta’s cold stare with one of my own. She had let me in without so much as a glance only to lead me into the dining room. “Where’s Elain?”

“In her garden. I’m trying to limit her time with…your kind.” I may have towered over the eldest Archeron sister, but she had a gift of making people feel small with just the tilt of her head. On this day Nesta wore a beautiful blue gown, and her hair was braided in her usual style. Yet my mind kept drifting to her baby sister and how similar they look. The way they stand, the same scowl that scrunches up their nose.

“Has your brutish ways impacted your hearing as it has your brain?” My wings rustled as I returned my gaze to the eldest Archeron, “I asked how my sisters were.”

I rolled my eyes. “They’re fine.”

Nesta quirked a brow, “Oh yeah, Y/N giving you a hard time?”

I stilled, “What makes you say that?”

Nesta smirked, “You have the same look most people have when she’s being difficult.”

“She’s not difficult.” I tried to focus on my breathing, remembering the vile things she said to her sister the first time we met. “If anything, I’m the one who made things difficult.”

Nesta lowered her arms and stared at me, her cold gray eyes searching my face. “You love her?” I snorted and to my surprise that took Nesta off guard. “What is loving a human such an outlandish thought to you?” her lips curled upward in a snarl.

I shook my wings and my body and eased my body and mind into something calm, thinking of Y/N’s hand in mine or who beautiful smile. “No, not outlandish for me at all. No what is outlandish to me is the fact you have spent years treating her so terribly and yet here you are asking if she’s okay and if I love her, when even if you did love her, you will never tell her as much.

I approached the woman her back pressing against the wall, “Tell me Nesta, do you know what happened that night you asked her to die?”

Nesta’s eyes widened, as if she too was recalling the memory. “You almost got your wish that day. She almost died. I found her strung up like an animal, her blood was everywhere. We barely made it in time. I could see Nesta paling as I continued. “Did you know the lover she took here got off on torturing her even assaulted her?”

“How dare you-“

“Did. You. Know.” I gritted my teeth my arms caging Nesta in so she couldn’t avoid this. “Did you know that this man had been using her as a doll for months using her job as leverage to get her to stay? Only for her to come home and want love and affection from her sisters only to find disdain and despair here.”

Nesta face looked pain only for a moment before her cool mask slipped back into place. “No, I didn’t and it’s not my place to know what type of lovers my sisters make. I’m sure if he was in high standing to help us get out of poverty, she would have made do.”

I stepped away from her. “Unbelievable. You would have subjected Y/N to a death sentence if you made her stay with him. You didn’t see the cuts on her back like I did. If you had it maybe you wouldn’t be so calm and serene about it.”

Nesta stepped away from the wall smoothing her skirts walking over to the desk in the living room. She opened the drawer to quickly shut it and turned back to me with an envelope in her hand. “They wish to meet in a weeks’ time.” Nesta eyes were glassy, but the fiery rage remained. “Be here in that time. Now. Get Out.”

I snatched the letter from her hand, “You are a disgrace. You failed in every way that counts, Nesta Archeron.” I walked past her heading for the door. I called over my shoulder, “And yet Y/N is the first person to come to your defense or speak of you as someone who needs healing. You never deserved her as your sister.” And with that I left, and I swore I heard a choked sob before I took to the skies.

Reader’s POV

Cassian had been home for a week. I had managed to avoid him by training with Azriel, studying with Rhysand and using his own brothers as shields if he got too close. Both Rhys and Az were happy to oblige in keeping me close and occupied. Then the gifts began appearing at my door.

Chocolates, Jewels, Shoes, by the end of the week the stack of Journals came to my hip. They all went unanswered. The boxes began to collect dust, the chocolates went stale, and the jewels suspiciously went missing after day two. Something tells me a short black-haired female was the culprit of that. Though nothing Cassian could buy with money would not be able to sway me to forgive him. Not after he hurt me in such a deep way.

Feyre walked into my room with a box in her hands at the start of the week, we had been able to spend more time together since the fiasco at the cabin, reading in the library, sharing meals together, walking through the streets of Velaris. It felt like the times before we lost our fortune when it was me and her against the world, I hadn’t realized how much I missed just being in her presence until we started spending more time together. “This was at your door.” She said shaking the box. She plopped on my bed dropping the box onto my lap. “Open it!”

I sighed, putting my book down, I untied the ribbon and open the lid, with a note.

Princess,

Please accept this gift as my apology to you.

I miss you.

Cassian.

Handing Feyre, the note, I began unwrapping the paper to find a gorgeous red silk gown I picked it up out of the box. Feyre smiled and nudged me, “Try it on.” Facing her I opened my mouth to protest and was met with her pushing me off the bed. “Right now.”

A few moments and I emerged from the changing partition and Feyre gasped. “Y/N… you look so beautiful.” I walked over to the mirror and turned to get a full view. The bodice of the gown, being held up by thin straps, had glittered fabric covering just enough that the swells of my breast were on display. Rich Silk overlapped meeting the sheer fabric covering my abdomen, red boning standing out against the flesh tone. The red satin draped down ruching at my hips as it cascades down a revealing slit to reveal my newly toned and muscled leg. I had to agree with Feyre.

The dress was stunning, but I recalled the note left with it and I pursed my lips.

Are you that incompetent of taking care of yourself? His voice echoed in my mind.

“He called me worthless. Did he believe that that him buying me this was going to make me fall to my knees and forgive him.” I rolled my eyes and went back to change out of the dress. “Didn’t even hand me this gift himself, had to leave it at my door like a coward.” I mumbled sliding the rich fabric off my body and back into my purple dress with light lavender tulle sleeves. I walked over to the bed to place the dress back into the box.

“What are you going to do with the dress?” Feyre questioned not seeming to have an answer for my earlier inquiries.

“Keeping it. The dress is gorgeous and fits me like a glove. The dress will not suffer because the male who gifted it, is incompetent.” I sighed and crawled into bed placing my head on my twin’s lap where she instinctively fingers through my hair. “This isn’t enough.”

Feyre hummed and we sat in silence for a moment. “What would it take for him to earn that forgiveness?” I glance up at her and her blue eyes meet mine, “Is what happened unforgivable to you?”

I thought about it. Cassian up to this point had been nothing by kind and attentive to me. What he said was said at a moment of anger and if I was honest, I pushed when I should have let him be. However, that did not give him a right to throw my past and my insecurities back in my face the way he did. “No. It’s not. Not for him anyway.This dress or the other gifts for that matter, doesn’t tell me that this won’t happen again. That he won’t lash out and hurt me. I have given my heart to cruel people too many times. I can’t risk that again.”

Feyre hummed once more. “Rhysand and I are going to the human lands.” I sat up at that and gave her a questioning look. “Yes Nesta, sent word to Cassian two days ago.” Oh, so that’s why the gifts had stopped at that point. “We are to go back in a few days.”

“Great I’ll-“

“Rhys thinks it would be best if you stayed home. I can’t say I disagree, with everything that has gone on,” and everything that happened the last time I was in the human lands, though she doesn’t say it. “I must agree. I would feel better knowing you were here.

I lay back on the bed and groan, “You are lucky that I am in no mood to fight. I’ll stay but I’ll grumble about it the whole time.”

Feyre kissed my cheek, “Thank you. Now let’s go get breakfast, I’m starved.” I laughed and followed her out the room, though I can’t get the image of Cassian taking off that dress off me from my mind.

Cassian’s POV

I was almost ready to give up by the time Feyre and Rhys were getting ready for the meeting with the human queens. I stormed into Rhys’s office with the last gifts I provided. “What kind of person destroys a stuffed toy?” I hold up the stuffed bat I got her, whose wings are now ripped apart.

Azriel and Rhys both pressed their lips in a tight line, but it was Azriel who lost his composure first. I threw the bat at him, and he caught it with ease. “She’s brilliant. I love her.” He looked to Rhys, “Can we keep her?”

I groaned plopping on the couch as Feyre came in. “I just don’t know what else to do. I have tried everything. I even wrote her a letter. She looked me in the eye as she threw it in the fire.” Her words still haunted my memories:

“How would you feel if the one person you trusted with your heart took your deepest insecurities and threw them in your face. The one person you felt safe and protected with just takes everything you are so afraid to burden people with and tells you, you are exactly that. A burden.” Then she walked away.

“Cassian did you hear me?” Feyre’s voice pulled me out of my daze. Recognizing that she caught me she smiled and gripped my hand with her own. “She doesn’t want material things or pretty words Cass. She wants security that what happened at the cabin will never happened again.” With her free hand she pressed her palm against my chest. “She would much rather you give your heart in exchange for hers than any material object.”

An idea blossomed into my mind, and I smiled looking at my girl’s twin. “My heart”. I pressed my palm over the back of her hand on my chest. I kissed her cheek, “Have I told you how brilliant you are today?”

Feyre smiled, “No, but I can see your gears turning in that mind of yours, do you have a plan?”

I nod and look to Azriel, “I do, but I need your help, Az.”

Azriel smiled, “Tell me what I need to do.”

So, I did.

Rhysand and Feyre had left for the human realm that night and I set off to go find Y/N. I started in the library and to my surprise she was there. I smiled looking at her reading, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lip tucked between her teeth. Her hair was up in a cute little bun, and she wore those knee-high socks that made my cock strain in my leathers.

“I can see you, General.” She said not bothering to look up from her book. “Something you need?”

“Get dressed.” That caught her attention. Her eyes meet mine in a challenge. “I can’t keep doing this, Princess. I miss you.”

“You should have-“

“I’m well aware of what my actions have done,” I stepped deeper into the room approaching her. “I am asking you to give me a chance to show you, just how sorry I am.”

“I can’t leave-“

“I’m not arguing with you about this. I am asking for a chance. Please.”

I could see her expression turn into contemplation. Then with a sigh she closed her book, and I fought my heart from swelling as her eyes met mine, “What should I wear?” I smiled.

It felt good to have her in my arms once more as we landed in the mountains. She was shivering as we walked a few miles from the clearing I landed in. I tucked my wing around her to prevent the wind from whipping her skin raw. Her teeth chattering told me otherwise. “We’re almost there, Sweetheart.”

“Cassian, Where are we goin-“She paused mid-sentence as the Cabin came into view. A large cabin sat here the chimney already having plumes of smoke swirling out of the top. Her mouth was slightly agape that the cabin was about the size of the town home, and she looked around the area her gaze found the one thing I was hoping she would find. Walking closer to one of the larger trees that had wildflowers blooming she looked at the frame of the woman. The portrait had faded over time and not in the best condition due to weather here, but the woman shared my eyes and it was the only good quality photo I had of her. “Cass, what is this? Who is she?”

I knelt in front of the memorial and smiled my hand grazing the picture, “This is my home, Princess.” I looked to Y/N and gave another smile, “This is a portrait of my mother.”

Chapter 14 Part 1

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#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian x you #cassian imagine #cassian fanfic #cassian #archeron sister #feyre archeron #rhysand acotar #azriel shadowsinger

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save-a-forest-ride-a-bear · 19 days

Note

Heya!!

So I'm a little obsessed with the secret relationship trope... i was wondering if you could do an Astarion x reader secret relationship but maybe during a fight, reader dies and has to be revivified? And Astarion freaks out, like he goes semiferal and histerical?

Maybe it could be during the fight with his siblings at camp so now Cazador knows he has someone he holds dear (even if Astarion doesn't want to admit it yet) which is what they were trying to avoid?

Thank you so much!!!!

🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ All I Want ❛ ✧

Featuring: Astarion x Reader

Not proofread!

# Notes: I'm not too good with drabbles but I rly like this idea so I decided to try! also no use of "y/n" because I'll be honest I'm not a fan of it lmao

It was his idea to keep the relationship a secret.

He knew how that sounded — like he was ashamed of his partner, like he didn't want anyone to know for the sake of his reputation. That wasn't true, and he assured them of it. It was simply a precaution, something to protect them both. Now that they arrived at Baldur's Gate and are closer to Cazador than ever, he couldn't take any chances. Not when it came to them, at least.

He wasn't used to this — caring about someone other than himself. It was always about his survival, but now he had someone else to worry about. Someone whose life was worth a lot more than his own. Someone he couldn't afford to lose.

So, he kept it a secret. It wasn't exactly easy to go about their day pretending to be nothing more than companions, friends at most. Ever since they got together, he realized just how starved he was for any kind of attention, any kind of affection. Having to refrain from touching them too much or being his usual, flirty self hasn't been a simple feat. But he knew how important it was that they kept things under wraps.

His feet were killing him after a long day of adventuring, from Wyrm's Crossing all the way to the Lower City. At least they managed to avoid some confrontation for today, so he had one less thing to complain about. They got settled in an inn and he managed to sneak out for a few seconds with his partner to at least get a good night's kiss. He wanted more, but knew that would have to suffice.

The others had already fallen asleep, but he remained tossing and turning. Something felt off. He wasn't sure what, but his nerves were on end, like his fight or flight response had picked up on something he himself hadn't yet. Perhaps that was for the best, as it allowed him to notice the sound of footsteps early enough to stand up and grab a dagger. His hand shook slightly, wrapped around the handle of the weapon as two familiar faces walked in. He felt sick. He knew what they were here to do.

"Get the hells away from me!" It wasn't quite a yell, but definitely loud enough to wake the others. He instinctively took a few steps back, trying to maintain a distance far enough to deceive his brain into believing that he was somewhat safe. "Peace, brother. We're here to take you home." Aurelia uttered somewhat gently, but it almost made him puke. Brother. Home. Just the notion of it made him dizzy with disgust. The Szarr Palace wasn't his home, and these goons were not his family — he was tired of playing along with this fucked up game of pretend.

It didn't take long for a fight to break out, despite his attempts at deception. He should've known Cazador wouldn't let him off easy. Karlach was the first to react, letting out a guttural scream of rage as she charged at Violet. The axe cut through flesh before the spawn could realize what was happening, getting stuck where it met bone. She screamed, but was soon silenced by another blow. While it was supposed to be lethal, she simply vanished into a cloud of black smoke instead of dropping dead on the ground.

Leon was next, aiming for the person who was closest to where he stood which, to Astarion's despair, happened to be his darling. The spawn's claws slashed their skin open, blood splattering on the floor as they yelped in pain. Astarion didn't think — he simply acted, pouncing on Leon only to drive his dagger through his heart one, two, three times, until he too vanished into thin air. He snapped his head back in their direction just in time to see Yousen sneaking up, grabbing them from behind and sinking his teeth into their neck. The scream, the way their eyes squeezed shut in agony and their hands clawed against the spawn holding them still was enough to make Astarion see red.

He hardly remembered moving. But he did remember the screams. Not from his darling, but from his brother, as he drove the dagger into the side of his neck and twisted it. He looked back at his lover again, but the dark cloud from Yousen obscured his vision. He didn't hear screaming anymore. Only his ears ringing slightly and the sound of laboured breathing from his companions.

When he could finally see again, he almost wished he couldn't. That'd be better than the sight of his beloved's body sprawled out on the floor atop a pool of blood, their empty, cold eyes gazing into his soul. He rushed to their side despite his shaking legs, stumbling on his way there until he fell to his knees beside them. He raised their head by the back of their neck, resting it on top of his thigh. He hardly realized he was hyperventilating, hands shaking violently as he cradled one of their cheeks in his palm. "No, no... You can't die. Wake up, damn it!" He choked out, his voice rising from a whisper full of disbelief to a screech of the utmost despair.

Karlach too rushed to their side, fumbling with her bag with quivering hands. "H-Hold on, soldier, I think..." She stuttered out nervously before cutting herself off as she pulled a scroll of revivify from the bag. She knelt next to the two and placed the parchment atop the corpse's chest. It glowed a bright white light, seemingly seeping into their skin. There was a deafening silence for a few seconds when suddenly, they woke up with a loud gasp, eyes widening as life was brought back into their being.

The pale elf didn't waste a second before pulling them into a hug, not minding the blood staining his clothes. He hid his face in the crook of their neck, only a small sob and whisper being heard from him. "Oh, thank the gods... Please, please never do that again..." He choked out before pulling away from the embrace, cupping their cheek and pressing his lips against theirs. He never felt that before. That immense sense of hopelessness, agony and grief. Not to this level, not of this kind — and he'd make sure he never felt it again.

However, as he pulled away from the kiss, he saw something in the distance. Aurelia, bleeding out on the ground, watching them seconds before she too vanished into the darkness. If he still had a heart, it would have skipped a beat out of sheer terror alone. Cazador knew. He knew about his spawn's newfound love. And Astarion would have to be a fool not to expect his master to take advantage of that fact.

#bg3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion #astarion x reader

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bg-brainrot · 8 days

Text

To Be Known (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: Astarion reads a book and wonders what it means to be known.

Tags: Astarion's POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3 but pre-Cazador, Astarion is Bad at Feelings,

A/N: Disclaimer up top: I'm not abandoning any of my other fic! Promise! Just trying to get over a tough month and get back into the swing of things :'D

Also, based on the quote: “To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is like being loved by God.” (disclaimer: I’m not religious, and I know this quote comes in a few different forms, but google told me about this version so I stuck to it.)

Word count: ~2.1k

“To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods,” Astarion reads aloud, to no one in particular.

A silence follows, wherein his mind repeats the words he’s just read, absorbing none of them. To be fully known and truly loved… The words don’t seem to stick.

Finally deciding that the sentence isn’t worth his effort, he tosses the book onto his bedroll with a groan. “What rubbish.”

Outside of this author's haughty approach to prose, Astarion doesn’t particularly care to think too deeply about what it means to be loved– especially by any godsforsaken deities.

He has only just come around to the idea of love, not that he’s said the word ‘love’ to you just yet. It felt too much, too heavy a word to carry considering all of the other burdens the two of you bore between you. But the idea of it? Well, he was warming up to it. And with every moment shared between you, he believes he may be warming up all the more.

But what does being known have to do with love? No, that concept has him pulling his brows together, getting up from his bedroll and putting distance between himself and the drivel that Gale had recommended to him.

That’s what I get for listening to the damned wizard’s tastes, he thinks, shaking his head slightly. Some philosophical prattle, just as verbose as he is.

But even as he stands, brushes himself off, shoves the book away to the furthest corner of his tent before he makes to leave, the question of being known never escapes him.

What does it even mean to be known? he wonders, now lost in thought as he emerges from his tent. How could anyone know me, after all I’ve been through… do I even know who I am anymore?

The idea hangs over him, trails him like a storm cloud as he begins stalking about the camp you’ve all set up in the outskirts of Rivington. He’s not sure where his feet are leading him other than away– away from the distasteful book, away from away from your knowing gaze, which would only pry his thoughts out of him.

Much to Astarion’s disappointment, the trail he takes doesn’t stop the winding path his thoughts have taken.

Have I ever been known? he wonders, vaguely registering the breeze in his hair and the distant sounds of running water as he travels further and further from camp.

Perhaps I was once upon a time, but I could hardly be expected to remember now, could I? The thought is bitter and unwelcome, though likely true. He brusquely swats a branch out of his way and continues into a bramble unrepentantly. Gods, how can he bring himself to care about something as trifling as nature when he’s quite busily lost in thought right now, thank-you-very-much.

Astarion releases a sigh as he finally fights his way into a copse of trees. Secluded, finally.

Alone.

With his thoughts.

Which won’t seem to quiet despite the soft chittering of small animals, nor the sickly sweet smell of flowers in the air.

Why are some pitiful poet’s ‘words of wisdom’ even bothering me? he thinks as he lowers himself onto the trunk of a fallen tree. What’s even the use in being known?

Astarion crosses his legs in front of him, watching with narrowed eyes as his boots press into the soft grass, crushing it easily. There is no use to being known, he decides as he presses harder with one foot and the grass is further flattened. To wish that is…

His foot twists down even more firmly.

Pathetic, Astarion thinks, lifting his boot back up to see his handiwork. The grass lies flat, thoroughly smashed by him. This world is simply about being the one who tramples, and not the one being trampled.

That thought oddly comforts him. He knows the push and pull of power well enough– this dynamic is second nature to him. Like an old, threadbare blanket, it wraps around his shoulders, providing no warmth, but plenty of familiar reassurance.

It’s moments later that the blanket is wrenched from him and he’s laid bare once more, under the startling sunlight of your attention.

“Astarion?”

Your voice pierces through his thoughts, and his instinctual answering emotions are new to him. Surprise. Elation. Relief.

The vampire had been utterly unprepared to hear your voice, convinced he’d found a spot away from you all. Convinced that you wouldn’t be here with your thoughtful gaze– not now, while he’s still busy sorting through a myriad of questions. But he still can’t deny the way he welcomes your presence.

He suspects that your perceptive gaze can easily catch that, despite the way his shoulder’s tense and the way his head turns away, his ears still tilt back toward you, ready for your next words.

“Astarion, there you are,” you say. He hears the same emotions he feels in your voice. How odd it feels to be mirrored by you. He can’t deny enjoying that either. “What’s the matter? When I couldn’t find you around camp, I thought the worst might have happened."

The man scoffs, trying his best to sound unaffected by your sudden arrival, refusing to meet your inquiring gaze. “And what, pray tell, did you assume could have happened?”

“We’re practically at the Gate, Astarion. Anything could have happened. Need I remind you what happened to Dribbles?” you respond, voice tight with worry.

Ah yes. The dead clown. “It will take more than a shapeshifter to take me out, darling,” he retorts, still refusing to turn toward you, now dutifully inspecting his nails.

You let out a small huff of disapproval. “And what about Cazador?”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Astarion replies, though the thought of being caught unawares by Cazador bristles at him. If he did get caught, it would be entirely Gale’s fault for lending him that book… He shakes his head of white curls and continues, “Besides, I barely got more than a few dozen yards away before you came chasing after me. I could hardly be in any real danger.”

When you sigh, he finally turns to face you. The expression you give him then isn’t frustration, nor anger– it’s an unusual mixture of worry and… joy? “I couldn’t help but chase. Would it be pathetic to say that I miss you when you’re gone for too long?” you respond.

He’s not sure he has an answer to that.

Especially when he feels pathetic for how light his undead heart feels at the statement.

Astarion drops his head, avoiding your gaze, and hoping you don’t catch the startled happiness on his face.

When it’s clear he doesn’t have a response for you, you change the subject as you close the distance between you, “So, what brought you out here?”

“Nothing,” he replies, too easily. You know it’s a lie. He knows that you know it.

“Nothing, eh?” you ask, finding a seat next to him on the fallen tree. “What about that nothing has you running into the woods?”

“I was not running,” he defends, with a click of his tongue. “I was taking a brisk stroll.”

“Fine then,” you relent, elbowing his arm gently. “What about it led to a ‘brisk stroll’?”

There’s no use hiding from them, is there? he thinks, leaning back on the trunk. “I’ll tell you,” he begins, staring out into a bush. “But only if you answer a question for me.”

“Anything,” you say, and he can feel your shrug on his arm.

“Who am I, really?”

You still. Astarion had expected no less. After all, it’s not an easy question to answer– even for him. He’s putting quite a lot of undue pressure onto you with the question, it’s selfish really… but he can’t help but want to be selfish around you.

So he lets the question settle into the silence.

When you finally speak, your voice is crisp in the muted sounds of the clearing. “Promise you won’t care for me any less after I answer you?”

Astarion snaps his head back at you, his mouth turning down in a frown. “Well that depends, my dear. What are you planning to say?”

“Promise?” you press.

As if he could care any less for you– he would have done so already if he could. “I promise,” he murmurs reluctantly. “Now, please, the suspense is really too much.”

“You are Astarion,” you start, reaching out for his hand. He cautiously places his in yours, unable to hide the twitch of a smile as your warm fingers lock with his. “You’re a beautiful, elven vampire, with silver hair, and red eyes. You’re talented, witty, and…”

Your voice trails off, and Astarion can’t help but wonder why you’d been so hesitant to answer. So far, he is loving this answer.

“And you’re an absolute arse at times.”

“Excuse me?” he gasps, moving to pull his hand out of yours.

You don’t release it, but you do continue, “You laugh at the misfortune of others, you steal, you lie, you cheat at games, you can be incredibly selfish.”

“Darling, are we certain you care about me after all this?” he grumbles, giving up on fighting your grip on him as your words wash over him. He knows all of this, of course, has been entirely unashamed of it all before… but it feels different when you say it. When you lay it out plainly before him.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, tugging on his hand gently. “Because all of that makes you you. And, personally, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

He blinks at you, confused on how you arrived at this conclusion.

“You are so unabashedly you, love. And I adore that. I know it might not feel like it after all you’ve been through… but you are still yourself. No one has been able to take that from you.”

Now Astarion stares at your intertwined hands, wondering if he deserves such impassioned, absurd words said in his defense. His voice comes quietly when he asks his next questions, “And how do I know that’s who I have always been? Who I was meant to be?”

You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a soft, warm kiss before you continue, “Astarion, I don’t know what might have bothered you, but I want you to know that, no matter what it was, you’re amazing as the man you are. Whoever you were, whoever you think you were meant to be, you should be proud of who you are now. And… once we deal with Cazador, I hope you have the chance to rediscover that man.”

Astarion hadn’t meant this to be some kind of journey of self-discovery– really, he’d only been irked by the needless philosophy of the book Gale had lent him. But, hearing you say those words, it feels as if some weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

Worry, he realizes. Of losing who he was, of course, but also of being utterly, desolately unknown. Naturally he needn’t have worried because here you are, ready and willing to understand him. To accept and care for him, even while knowing him, flaws and all.

Maybe being known wasn’t such a burden. Not if it were by you.

“Yes, well,” he begins, suddenly unsure what to say to your earnest words. “Thank you for that, I think. Though, really, I could have done without all of the barbs. It feels like I've been struck by psychic damage.” Astarion gives a dramatic head loll, averting his flustered face.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “Well, it’s a good thing I have no clue how to deal psychic damage, but I’ll be sure to get Gale right over if you need a good jostle to the brain.”

Gale’s done enough of that, Astarion thinks. But he doesn’t say so to you. Instead, the man simply shakes his head. “I’m quite alright. Speaking of the rest of those fools, they’ve likely begun to burn the camp down without us. Shall we head back?”

While the trek to the clearing had been filled with spiraling thoughts and matters of the self, Astarion finds that the journey back is filled with far more soft touches and kisses– Not that he minds.

In fact, he thinks with a smile, as you both walk together, practically falling into each others’ arms. Maybe this was who I was meant to be all along.

That night, once he’s settled back into his tent for bed, Astarion reads the passage once more, “To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods.”

Astarion is certainly no closer to believing in the gods’ willingness or ability to love him, but he could hardly care. No, he suspects that he knows what a god’s love is– after all, if you truly love him, fangs, scars, and all… well, that may very well be divine.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion is bad at feelings #astarion comfort #spawn astarion #astarion pov

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nmakii · 2 months

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“DO YOU THINK YOU’LL KILL FOR ME ONE DAY?” YES, OF COURSE I WILL, MY DARLING.

— manipulating yan!alastor + yan!vox was easy. after all, he’s a huge softie for you.

— lots of cursing + sex mention! (vox)

— lol!! after u read voxxy’s part, did u notice i said worse instaf of wordt? im super good at eng! 😈😈

— yan!alastor

you’d been acting out at this club for some time now— breaking property, starting a fight, and even lighting a fire. that last one did it for the owner, he finally banned you from the place, kicking you out indefinitely.

unfortunate, since it was your hangout spot for all kinds of mischief. perhaps— just maybe, there’d be a way to weasel your way back in? or, if not that, at least make him suffer.

a sniff came from you as you teared up, wondering about where else to have your fun. “ohh, my darling, is something the matter? you can tell me, i’ll make that problem go away.” alastor said as he walked into the hotel’s leisure room, his hand patting your back.

you tried to get the words out of your mouth, but it was simply too hard to breathe with the tears that poured down your face. “take your time, my doe… it’s okay.” alastor cooed with a slightly patronizing tone, as if he was the one in control right now.

“s-some club-owner… h-he called me degrading names, and then… he kicked me out…” you frowned at alastor, sniffing every now and then. “my doe, what exactly did he call you?” alastor asked, his voice slightly losing the static as well as having a more sinister edge.

as you listed the names the man had ‘called’ you, alastor pulled you closer to him as his anger began to boil. “it’s alright, my darling. a club with an owner like that is not worth it.” he smiled widely, brushing your hair gingerly before he planted a kiss on your forehead.

“besides, you’ll never see this man ever again. say, what did you say the name of this club was?” he asked before you whispered the club name to him. “i see… well, my little doe, it turns out that i must teach this man a lesson.” alastor stood up as his anger manifested into his body, elongating his limbs.

“you’re gonna kill him on radio? just… be kind… no one deserves a painful death.” you frowned in fake empathy. that fake empathy which would motivate alastor’s anger even more. “oh, dear, you are just too kind for hell. this man disrespected your honor, it’s simply fair that he receives something equally as humiliating.”

his hand rested on your chin, kissing you one last time before he left to find this disrespectful sinner. “now, if you’ll excuse me… someone has to be taught some manners. i assure you, love, that i’ll return by… dinnertime.” he promised before heading out the hotel, prepared to rip this man’s soul out of his body and make an example out of him for any other sinner who even dares to disrespect his little doe.

— yan!vox

are you the problem? nah, couldn’t be possible. if you were the problem, you wouldn’t have this lovely man as your boyfriend, now would you?

“ugh, then that bitch fucking unfollowed me! i don’t even know what i did to that fucker.” you sighed dramatically, frowning to your boyfriend through the facetime. “honestly, i don’t even know what you saw in her. you’re better off without, babe.” vox shrugged.

“and!! you wanna know the worst part?!?” you yelled out, face scrunching in pure dislike. “and what’s that?” vox asked. “that little bitch is yapping all over the city about you and i.” you rolled your eyes.

“ah..? she is? what exactly is she saying?” vox grunted as he glowed in anger. “she was ah… calling me your escort or whatever…” you scowled.

“tch, whatever! i’ll get over it— or, something.” you sighed, falling into your chair, as you closely eyed vox’s expression.

"aha... i'm glad you can let things go so easily, dear... now, i’d love to stay in call a bit longer, but i really have to take care of some important business right now." vox grunted, flying a quick yet lovely kiss to you before he ended the call.

okay, none of that happened— at least most of it didn’t happen. that girl... she was just pretty fucking annoying, always whining about how badly she wants to get fucked, jesus... close your fucking legs for once, yeah?

to be fair, on her own part, she was quite powerful. so, killing her yourself wasn't exactly a good option. instead, why not get your boyfriend to do it?

best case scenario, vox kills her, nothing else. worse case, vox simply hypnotizes her into selling her soul to him. ugh, imagine seeing that bitch's face everyday.

then again, you'd see her all sad and pathetic everyday cause she sold her freedom away.

either way, it's not looking too well for her.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #yandere alastor #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor the radio demon #yandere #yandere vox #vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox

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tarotwithavi · 7 months

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How do you inspire others?

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Keep in mind that this is a general reading, so this may or may not resonate with you. Take only what resonates and leave the rest.

Masterlist

Paid services

Pile 1

Greetings pile 1!It's clear that you've had quite a journey in life, and your vibe really motivates others to stay patient and committed to their paths. You're like a beacon of inspiration, encouraging people to fight for what they love and keep pushing forward. People see you as a well of knowledge and perhaps even as someone with abundance and wealth. Your carefree spirit is infectious, and your youthful energy is truly invigorating. It's as if you spark a spiritual awakening in those you meet, almost like you're an Earth Angel. You're a catalyst for creativity, motivating people to chase their dreams. There's a deep connection people feel with you, to the point where some might see you as a soulmate. Your influence on women is powerful; you radiate physical beauty, and when others meet you, they're inspired to put more effort into their appearance. It's not about competition, but rather a desire to emulate your style. I sense that some of you have long, flowing hair, and when women meet you, they might even consider growing out their own locks. Your grounded energy creates a magnetic pull, making people want to be around you all the time. Your presence is truly impactful.

Pile 2

Welcome pile 2! The vibes I'm picking up from you are intriguing! There's an undeniable innocence about you that draws people in, and they yearn to experience that same purity. Your influence seems to steer others towards the single life, perhaps because you inspire them to patiently wait for the perfect match. Many people around you may have had their dreams crushed, but your presence encourages kindness and a positive outlook on life. It's like you help them rediscover their souls. You motivate others to see despair as an opportunity, and your existence itself seems to cast a spell, radiating with magic. You're a catalyst for kindness and personal growth, and being around you is genuinely enlightening. You make people believe in the power of love, and you're like a sanctuary for lost souls. But it's not all sunshine and rainbows; you also inspire them to cut off toxic relationships, helping them realize their self-worth. I sense a perfect balance of fire and water energy in you, which gives you a unique ability to encourage others to step out of their comfort zones and be a little more impulsive.

Pile 3

Hey pile 3! It's clear that you lead by example and inspire others to do their best because you consistently give it your all. Your extensive list of hobbies and knowledge is like a magnet, attracting others who want to be just as well-rounded as you. You're a motivator for success, especially in work or academic settings, encouraging those around you to put their best foot forward. People feel a deep connection to you when they meet you, and it's not surprising, given your empathic abilities and your knack for sensing the energy in a room. But it's not all rainbows and sunshine; others can see the weight of responsibility you carry, and there's a sense that you're meant for some kind of generational healing. Your actions inspire people to embrace change in their lives. For instance, when you decide to chop off your long hair, it sparks a trend among the girls around you. Your willingness to try new things motivates others to take risks in their own lives. Moreover, you're a source of inspiration for a healthy lifestyle. Your dedication to eating well and taking care of your body encourages others to follow suit. You're truly a beacon of positive influence in various aspects of life.

#tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #free readings #free tarot #tarot #pick a pile #tarotblr #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card tarot #tarotwithavi #tarot wisdom #tarotcommunity #witch community #spiritual community

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narrativelysignificantturtleduck · 2 months

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something that makes sokka extremely adhd relatable is that he's constantly looking for his Thing, the one Thing he's good at or useful for that makes up for any failings or flaws or ways he just can't measure up to others. at the beginning of the show he defines himself by being the oldest boy in the village & best warrior, but then he gets his ass kicked by zuko and suki and sees aang's raw power and he can't exactly think fighting is his special skill anymore. but he still thinks he has to be defined by fighting ('man of the house' daddy issues) so he calls himself the guy with the boomerang bc that's turned out to be his most useful and versatile and unique weapon, the one that other people can't outclass him at (after all, it's his most successful attack in his fight with zuko). when he loses it in "avatar day" he explicitly says it's like losing a key part of his identity and the moment katara goes "hey you're good at solving mysteries" he's like "yeah! i'm a detective! that's my new thing! and gets a new set of objects to signify it ("i believe in the power of stuff"). but detective sokka doesn't last bc throughout the entire episode he and katara are pretty equally matched in detective skills and he gets his boomerang back anyway. failed experiment.

and throughout all of this, he's figured out that people find his insistance on getting them fed & his grumpy comments funny and so he begins defining himself as the meat and sarcasm guy, and when he's a tough spot in "bitter work", bargaining with the universe to get him help, he offers that up as all he's got to give. it's obviously a Joke that he immediately asks for meat after telling the universe he'll give it up but it's also pretty indicative of how much he clings to these identities. it's all he's got (he thinks), of COURSE he can't actually give it up. they stuck that boy in a hole for 22 minutes and it revealed so much about how he sees himself.

at some point (likely around "the library" when he takes initiative to come up with a fire nation invasion plan) he also becomes the plan guy, the idea guy, and the gaang find themselves looking to him for leadership. this is perhaps the closest to fully encompassing sokka that any of his "[blank] guy" labels get, since coming up with plans involves planning when and how to fight (boomerang guy) & how to get everyone fed (meat), and people not following his plans is a major source of frustration (sarcasm).

this all culminates in "sokka's master", where the show finally names the underlying insecurity driving this quest - that he's a nonbender. katara being the last waterbender meant she was in danger and that keeping her safe was top priority, and even though hakoda and kya wouldn't have played favorites sokka probably felt a little like the unfavorite child for not being special like her. he lacks an ability, and believes his life has less value bc of it. almost like somebody with a disability and internalized ableism

(interesting, one of the people who most consistently mocks sokka for being a nonbender is toph, early on. toph has a lot of internalized ableism herself, a fear of vulnerability bc she doesn't want to perceived as weak like her parents thought she was. her bending is her disability aid, the thing that allows her to be stronger than people think, so she dismisses a nonbender until she learns better.)

piandao's response to sokka's lack of self-worth is not to train him to be great at one thing, but to introduce him to a variety of different arts, show him that his value lies not in having any one skill but in his capacity to learn and grow. there's no single thing that makes him worthy. it isn't even the combination of all of them that makes him worthy. he simply is worthy.

and i don't know if this is a unique narrative in fiction or anything but it really means a lot to me that sokka doesn't have One Thing that "makes up" for him not being a bender. he's of course extremely skilled and prodigious at many things he does in the show but there's no one savant talent that "justifies" him being in the group and i feel like so many disability narratives - especially for kids - go that route and i really appreciate that atla doesn't and simply says people are valuable because they are valuable, not because of their special abilities

#nina's personal log #sokka #seeing 'avatar day' again reminded me i had this in the drafts #ALSO i think toph is a different disability narrative than sokka but also more nuanced than typical this is NOT saying hers is bad #it's very good #nd atla tag

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luveline · 7 months

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Hi! I remember a while ago you said zombie!au Steve might have a hobby of drawing? Would love to see some of that maybe w r as his muse:D

steve zombie!au fem. 1k

You return to the camp with your new best friend at your side. In matching coats, no less.

"Christ," Steve says, shaking his head in disgust.

He loves —loves— that you have a friend, someone who might care about you just as much as he does. You deserve to be loved, and cherished, and known for your worth. You're a human vestibule of sweetness and God knows it wasn't going to be long before someone else noticed.

But matching coats? "Alright, where's mine?" he asks.

"Didn't have your size, handsome," Eddie says, giving you a quick and purely amicable hug. "See you later."

He scampers off to who knows where and you sit down. You don't hide your happy smile, and Steve's glad for it even if it does make him jealous. "He's so nice," you say.

"No, he's not."

"He is. He's almost as nice as you. And he helped me find you something."

"After he outfitted my girlfriend in a couple's costume. I'm surprised he had the energy."

"You're so jealous," you say, your happy smile growing in size with the seconds.

"I'm actually making myself feel sick."

"I can wear a different coat if it–"

"Shut up! As long as you like me better, wear what you want." He shakes off his petty jealousy and takes your hand. For once, he's sitting on a towel rather than just grass or dirt, but his efforts to avoid extensive grass stainage mean nothing when your muddy shoe brushes his leg. "Nice. Thanks."

"Sorry, sorry," you murmur, swinging your backpack off of your shoulder and sighing as you bend into yourself. "Jeez, my back hurts." You breathe out, a low moan of sound that drags. He can feel your pain. (He can't, but he figures that he loves you so much you're now connected spiritually to one another.) "How come I keep going on these expeditions and you keep staying home?"

"I'm good with the kids."

"Mm. Maybe you'll come on the next one anyways? I miss you when I'm gone."

"I miss you too," he says. "More, I'd say."

You giggle. "Whatever, you always have to be better than me. Shut up! Shut up, I'm trying to give you the things I found for you."

Steve draws a zipper closed over his lips and flicks away the key. You get into these moods with each other sometimes, perhaps from having spent as much time together as you have, where a faked aggression rises between you. It's almost like you would've spoken at the start of the end of the world, when it was him and you alone, and Steve wasn't in the best of moods. The play fighting soon dies down as you open your bag; receiving gifts is always a pleasure.

"First, underwear."

"Thank you," he says, accepting the eight pack of boxers you offer like a man who's crawled the Sahara being given a glass of water. "So much."

"You're welcome. Socks, a shirt, a new belt, a brace for your knee." You dump it on the towel next to him one by one. Your bag must've been heavy carrying all this, and it keeps going. You've brought him soap, hair elastics, razor blades, chapstick. The community you belong to is heavy on sharing, but you're free to bring home whatever you like so long as you're willing to carry it unaided once you've contributed to the food drive. You've clearly crammed your bag full of stuff for him, unveiling only underwear and socks for yourself.

"You couldn't find any toothpaste?" he asks.

You toss a pack of cigarettes at him without force. "Sadly, no. But I think Robin can get us some with those, right?"

"I wanna smoke these so bad."

You laugh and shake your head, fondly disapproving. "You don't! We can just kiss more, alleviate your cravings."

"Weirdo."

You lean forward, putting your cold hand on his cheek to leverage him closer. "You knew this when you met me," you say, kissing his cheek.

Steve's good on the cravings front after that. He swears that when things are at their worst a kiss from you could keep him going. Your lips can ease the ache of an empty stomach and the shattering heat of his ever-sprained knee.

You pull away gently like you're worried you'll hurt him in your detangling. Honestly, you might. Steve imagines you leaving sometimes like his arm being torn off.

You reach back into the back for a parcel wrapped in a shirt for protection. The pencils and sketchbook you got Steve are long gone, lost with the rest of your possessions in the middle of a college campus on the Michigan border. Finding things like that is hard, and it hasn't been on Steve's mind.

Apparently, it's been on yours.

"These are nice ones, right? The pencils?" you ask, having unwrapped your parcel, a soft backed sketchbook and a small metal case of pencils in hand. "There's only twelve, but I even found a sharpener so you won't have to do it with your knife. Sorry there's no black, I know you like the darker details."

Steve flicks through the sketchbook without thinking, every page blank. It isn't very big either, but it's perfect for purpose.

He sets it aside with the pencils near all your new things and gets on his knees, tugging you in for a hug. "Thank you," he says, and he's said thank you a hundred times to you, but this one feels awkward, clumsy in his mouth.

"You're welcome. Just promise you'll draw me again."

"You're the only thing I want to draw." He kisses your cheek in emphasis. "You're the most beautiful thing everywhere we go."

"That's such a line," you say, sounding melted.

Easy, he thinks, turning your face to his for a kiss. Soft, as sweet as he can manage. With you, kisses start soft and end too rough, he can't help it. He remembers you're there and his to kiss and it drives him crazy.

It's a little easier to stop today. Steve is genuinely eager to draw again, and in a week or two there won't be a page in his book without your likeness, his muse.

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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saltydumplings · 9 months

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Hi, I’m not really sure how this works but I was wondering if you could write a lil short story/snippet of villain x reporter were villain find reporter following then after a big battle?

thank you in advance!! 💙

Oh my god I did it. I wrote a request for the first time in months, oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god--

Request #29

There was blood on their left shoulder. The villain huffed in annoyance, wiping at the stain with one hand and grimacing when it smudged.

That fight had been unnecessary.

The hero had instigated it - the villain giving them ample opportunity to stand down but their enemy was stubborn. Almost stupidly so. They took one look at the villain and decided that they couldn't possibly go one second longer without punching them in the face.

And, of course, the media would paint it as their fault. Because if the villain so much as breathed anywhere near the city centre then obviously their intentions were nothing short of nefarious. No, the villain didn't need to go grocery shopping at all: those bananas were clearly going to be the foundation for their next evil scheme - crucial some might say.

The villain groaned to themself as they walked down the alleyway, using their clean hand to pinch the bridge of their nose.

So much food had been wasted.

So much damage had been caused and for what?

If they were being honest, they weren't entirely sure if it was worth it anymore. If the cause that had led them to where they were still held out strong enough to reason days like this - destruction like this. Common destruction; everyday, needless, a mere swipe upon the hero's page but an ugly blot upon their own. The villain was supposed to be fighting for change but it seemed that everything they did only made the walls they were trying to tear down stronger. They were enabling the very thing they stood against and all the while they were hurting the people they were trying to save - trying to free from a society that never thought of them twice.

At this point, it was better to simply retire and let things return to the way they were. And, if in their misery they figured out a better way then perhaps they could try again...

The villain came to a sudden stop, wondering if they would truly give in right there and then, only to freeze at the sound of movement behind them. A short, scuffling noise - someone attempting to hide and not doing a very good job of it.

Surely the hero hadn't followed them?

The villain turned about, surveying the empty alley behind them, their gaze quickly honing in on a stack of crates. They waited patiently, silent, watching as their would-be stalker peered out from behind their cover and ducked down twice as fast - a small squeak of realisation echoing off the walls. Even if the villain hadn't seen them, they certainly would have heard that.

They let themself relax somewhat, rationalising that their pursuer was either a civilian or a moron. Perhaps even both...

"You realise that you're not exactly discreet, right?" they said.

There was a pause. A long one.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three," the villain pushed. "Either you come out, or I drag you out. One--"

"No, no! N-No need for dragging!"

The villain felt their brows raising as their stalker revealed themself, quickly springing out from their hiding spot like a startled rabbit. They had been right: civilian and a moron. Though, when it came to members of the press, the villain couldn't really expect much else.

"I-I, um," the reporter stumbled on their words as the villain approached them, hands clutching onto their notepad shakily. "I just had a, er - a f-few questions. I-If that's alright with you, of course..."

Perhaps stubborn was a better word. Tenacious.

The villain had seen the way these people practically hovered around the hero. Had even seen one or two get punched by the crime-fighter out of pure annoyance and yet, still, more persisted to harass them.

None had ever attempted to approach the villain before though. None had ever dared...until now.

They stopped just centimetres away from the other, amused by the way the reporter held their ground even when they were clearly scared out of their mind.

"You get three questions," the villain allowed. "But I won't promise any answers."

The reporter's eyes widened. "W-Wait, only three?" they asked.

"Two now," the villain answered.

A beat.

The reporter floundered, opening and closing their mouth multiple times before hurriedly flicking through their notepad. Clearly they'd had their questions planned out - pages upon pages of them - but now they were having to choose only two.

The villain quirked a brow as they watched, foot starting to tap upon the ground while the seconds ticked by.

"Okay, I- no, no, h-hold on."

The reporter flicked back through their notes again, the villain tolerating it all of about five more seconds before snatching the pad from their hands and holding it out of their reach - the reporter giving a startled squeak before looking up at them with horror.

"G-Give that back," they said.

The villain smirked. "No."

"B-But--"

"But what?"

"I..." the reporter flushed, fingers twitching at their sides. "Could you please just give it back?"

The villain's grin grew sharper. "No. And you have one question left - better choose wisely."

"Wait, but that wasn't- I didn't- i-it--!"

"One question~" the villain chimed.

The reporter settled back into silence. Their gaze flicked between their notepad and the villain that held it, something surprisingly similar to a glare lining their expression. Were they about to...?

They did.

The reporter jumped up and snatched the notepad right from the villain's fingers, darting back immediately and flicking through it with frantic urgency.

Cheeky little--

Where the hell did these people get their courage from?

The villain went to snatch it back but the reporter raised their hand, reading out from the final page in an incomprehensible rush:

"DoyouthinkthatHeroshouldbeheldaccountableforthedamagetheycausewhenfightingyouanddoyoubelievethatthisdamageisnecessarywhenthwartingyourplans?"

The villain stopped. Blinked. "What did you just say to me?"

The reporter swallowed, taking in one steady breath before trying again more slowly. "Do you think that Hero should be held accountable for the damage they cause when fighting you, a-and do you believe that this damage is necessary when thwarting your plans?"

Of all the questions they could have asked, the villain had not expected it to be that. It stunned them: they were so used to people always taking the hero's side that they'd almost forgotten the rush of relief that came with being believed - that little thrill of confidence when you found out you weren't alone.

They paused, eyes wide as they studied the other in a new light. "No," they whispered.

"No?" the reporter questioned. They let themself relax a little - no longer cautious but rather curious.

"No," the villain clarified more strongly. "No: that damage is not necessary. And yes they should be held accountable for it - they shouldn't be allowed to use me as an escape goat for the destruction that they actively cause."

For a moment, the reporter's jaw went slack, fully engrossed in what they were saying. The second the villain stopped though they fumbled about their pockets, quickly fishing out a pen and clicking the lid off - taking a few scribbled notes before staring back up at the villain with shining eyes.

"Anything else?" they asked eagerly.

The villain flushed a little under the attention, and not in a bad way. The more they talked to the reporter the more likeable they became: the villain still thought they were stubborn - foolishly so - but they were beginning to recognise that it was more in a puppy-like way than anything truly annoying; the reporter was cute.

"They'll look for any excuse to attack me," they said, each word a small weight off their chest. "The papers will say that I was the one to initiate but I rarely am - that's just what the government wants you to believe. In fact, I'm sure Hero is instructed to be more reckless purposefully just to paint me in a worse light but that's never been my intention: never has been, never will be."

"I knew it!" the reporter said. Then they blushed when the villain raised a brow at them, ducking their head in a vague attempt to hide behind that tiny notebook of theirs. "I mean, I - I had some, er, speculations..."

The villain hummed. "Good speculations I'd hope."

The red of the reporter's cheeks darkened. "A-Any more comments you'd like to add?" they asked, changing the topic.

The villain had to resist the urge to sigh. Because yes; yes, they did. So many...but they didn't want to dump it all on the reporter at once and run the risk of losing the one person that they'd spoken openly to in years.

"What do you intend to do with this information?" they questioned back. "Do you plan to publish it?"

"W-Well, yes. If that's alright, o-of course." The reporter shuffled a little on their feet, suddenly shy. "Not in any of the major papers though - obviously. I mean, they would never let me... It's for a blog I write online. It's small but I-I like to think that it could grow to something bigger. Something that could, y-you know..."

"Change things?" the villain finished, watching as the reporter gave a small nod. "You want things to change?"

The reporter huffed. "Who doesn't?" they said.

The villain considered that a while. Considered it with a hesitation that they'd never had to deal with before. It was one thing to put themself at risk, it was a whole other thing entirely to then insert someone else into that same mess - to tangle them up in something that they could never get out of.

"How much?" the villain challenged. "How much do you want it?"

A pause.

The reporter swallowed, eyes glancing over the villain's frame in a studious way. "Why do I feel like you're giving me a massive, life-altering choice?"

"Because I am," the villain said simply.

"Oh."

The reporter fell silent again. Their gaze drifted away - focused back on the entrance of the alleyway that they'd followed the villain down before falling once more to stare at the notepad in their hands. They held it just a little tighter, lower lip caught between their teeth as they thought it through.

The villain waited patiently, a small excitement sparking within their chest when the reporter's attention drew back to them.

"More than anything," the other said, finally. "More than I can openly admit."

The other followed their direction without question. "O-Oh, right, yes I-- o-of course!"

The villain nodded. Smiled.

"Alright, then. So be it," they said. "You'll want to put that somewhere safe," they added as an afterthought, gesturing to the notepad in the reporter's hands.

They fumbled to put it away into a bag at their side, the villain watching them carefully as they did it.

"Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" they asked.

The reporter waved a hand dismissively whilst they struggled with the zip. "What, me? No, no, it - it's all work, work, work. I never really find the time for much else."

"So no one to expect you then?" the villain pursued. "No one you're meant to be seeing?"

"No, I--" The reporter paused, their eyebrows drawing down ever so slightly. "Why are you asking me that?"

"Because..."

The villain took a step forward then, hands reaching out to catch onto their shoulders. They pulled the reporter closer, the civilian's face flushing at the sudden contact - the sudden strong contact.

"I'm planning to enact my first official kidnapping," the villain said, "and I want everything to go as smoothly as possible."

#writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain #hero x villain #writeblr #villain x civilian #civilian x villain #villain #civilian

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