#the growing pains of invasive things

[aeeioou]

The Growing Pains of Invasive Things by Jon MacGregor

(2024)

#the growing pains of invasive things #jon macgregor

[pomefioredove]

mirror

summary: vil falling in love with you type of post: short fic characters: vil schoenheit additional info: romantic, FLUFF, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, takes place during/after book 6 author's note: vilyuu is such a good and underrated dynamic I'm never not obsessed with it. always thinking about him. holding them like dolls making them kiss mwah mwah

One might be bold enough to assume that actor and model Vil Schoenheit had been a victim of Eros before.

With the world under his thumb and millions of adoring fans at his beck and call, it was easy to fantasize about the image of a shining star that had left a string of broken hearts behind him. His persona of perfection gave off such a dazzling impression that any other truth is simply unimaginable. Beautiful, talented, devoted...

...Untouchable to such a degree that the very truth of the matter was that Vil Schoenheit had never been in love. He had no use, let alone time, to indulge himself in something that he found distracting at best and frustrating at worst. For most of his life, romance was nothing but another part to play, a frustrating rumor to dispel, a disaster to witness, something that nagged at him from the outside yet never made itself a home within him.

This idea of the confident heartbreaker Vil Schoenheit was nothing but a reflection of the image he put out, shone back at him by tabloids and fan accounts. It was a hollow interpretation, fueled by fantasies of a Vil that didn't exist in flesh and blood. And so, every time an invasive interviewer or pesky reporter inquired about the state of his personal affairs, he answered truthfully: Vil Schoenheit could easily go throughout life focusing solely on his career, on improving himself, and not miss out on anything at all.

There have been very, very few things that Vil has called himself an idiot over. That answer was one of them.

Because the very second he saw you again after being separated by Styx, the want to smack you for being so reckless in coming after him was only secondary to his want to hold you and cry until his water-proof mascara was running.

Love is such a strange emotion. Vil could never understand why Rook was so obsessed with it, how the vice housewarden fell in love with every beautiful person he saw. For his whole life Vil thought it to be painful, to be distracting, to be finite and often times nothing but a shallow reflection of all of one's ugliest traits.

And now, it made him feel weak and messy. He hated feeling messy.

...And yet, what he wouldn't do to have his lipstick smeared over your mouths. To have you see him with his hair undone and eyes bleary with sleep, and to see you in that state as well. It was not the time, nor the place, but he wanted to cradle you in his arms until this terrible, sickly feeling of longing you'd left him with went away.

For the first time in his life, Vil was suddenly terrified of being alone.

No, not alone- he was terrified of being without you.

To never see your smile again would be a fate worse than death, worse than growing old and haggard. How terrible to think that just one simple person could so easily undo everything about him, and yet, he wanted more of that very feeling. He would unwrap himself layer by layer for you if you asked, taking off all of the years of discipline and poise, and lay vulnerable before you so that you could be soft and simple together. Vil had always regarded romance as difficult, but falling in love with you was surprisingly easy.

He did not have to save Grim from the Underworld, despite what he claimed. Such a risky move cost him everything he loved, everything beautiful about him, everything except for you. And as much as he mourned for himself, he knew he would do it again and again if it meant saving the smile on your face.

And perhaps he was too wishful with his thinking, but he could have sworn he saw that same familiar glimmer of affection and admiration in your eyes when you met his gaze. As if you couldn't even see the pasty, wrinkled mess he'd turned into, and were peering at something behind it.

It made him feel utterly exposed and offered him no comfort, but the thought that you were looking at something not even he could see lingered in the back of his mind, even after his magical energy was rejuvenated.

He had become so familiar with everyone around him being a mirror, reflecting his carefully crafted image right back at him, showering him with two-dimensional praises, that being seen as an object of flesh and blood and tears was a strange notion. To behold his presence and see a person with wants and needs and flaws rather than a flat surface, a decorative magazine atop a coffee table, left him with a strange feeling in his chest. The thought both bothered and warmed him.

Vil Schoenheit was so hopelessly in love with you, and it didn't hurt. It wasn't difficult or ugly or forced, it took not even the least bit of effort. He sunk into the feeling like a warm bath which never grew colder, and he let that be his new reality. It felt strange to imagine that there was a time where he didn't love you, where he didn't look at you as if you were the moon itself, where you weren't such a part of his being that he couldn't imagine life without you.

And he never expressed these feelings in words. They existed inside of him, running through his veins like the very blood that kept him alive and warm, and they weren't distracting, just another part of him that he kept tucked away to occupy his thoughts on rainy days.

...But the best part of it was that he didn't need words. Because when you looked at him, when you saw the Vil the not even he could see, you could already tell they were there. The mirror, the pane of glass that had always existed between himself and others, was non-existent for you.

Vil thought that someday he might be able to see himself through that glass the way you did, but he was perfectly content with simply looking at you instead for the time being.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil schoenheit x reader

[wifeofasith]

Warnings — SEX POLLEN, dub-con, Master x Padawan, power imbalance, intoxication, abuse of authority, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of pain, brief nipple play, brief fingering, degrading if you squint, pet names, praise, swearing...

Word count — 3.3k

Notes — Thank you, Anon for the request! This is the first time I write a fic this length, I hope it's enjoyable! I truly hope I didn't miss any warnings; it's currently past 3am and my head is fried.

“You know this is completely unnecessary; you are overexaggerating…” Anakin complains as you wrap a thick linen rope around his wrists, securing your master in place. “I swear, I’m fine. Look,” He leans forward, putting his face on display. So close, you could feel his soft breath on the tip of your nose.

You inspect his eyes, deep blue eyes with slightly dilated pupils; if it were somebody else, they wouldn’t have seen a difference, but you… Oh, you were different. You knew his eyes a little bit too well for just a Padawan, and you were certain: something was wrong. You could sense his heart pumping blood through his veins a little bit too fast, his irregular breathing, you spotted things he failed to notice about himself. Maybe all those stolen glances at his undeniably gorgeous face and broad body will pay off, giving you something else than just fantasy material for all the lonely nights.

“No.” You reply bluntly. “I’m sorry, master.” You tie a last knot around his wrists. You wanted to explain; tell him all the things you sensed were different: the way his gaze twisted when landing on your body, the way he squirmed just slightly as you bind his limbs together, the way he… Smelled. It wasn’t just a regular Anakin scent, no. It was sweeter, almost milky, and it made you want to burry your face into his skin, so naturally, you could never reveal your reasoning.

Anakin sighed, leaning his back against the remains of your spaceship, his tied hands resting on top of his lap, hiding the slowly-forming tightness you both failed to notice. He could swear everything was perfect. Well, aside from the fact that you both were left stranded on an unknown planet and after hours of wandering in search of life and help, you ended up back at the crash site. 

“You realize I would never hurt you, right?” He stares at you, visible annoyance present on his features. “There is nothing wrong with me, I didn’t even touch anything unknown.”

He was right; he touched nothing. He… Inhaled it. And (un)fortunately neither of you knew.

“I know….” You look into his eyes pleadingly, trying to convince him to stay put in case he goes on some kind of rampage that your whole body senses is coming. You wanted to deny your gut feeling, but the gleam in his eyes told you it was a bad idea. 

Time passes slowly, and Anakin is growing more and more impatient as he watches your failing attempts to fix the transmitter and possibly reach someone. 

“Give me that.”

You stare at him from a short distance, thinking whether it’s smart to approach him, but your doubts are quickly wiped away when that sweet scent reaches the inside of your lungs with the help of a soft breeze. You stand up and bring him the broken device.

Anakin grabs your hand instead and pulls you down to your knees in front of him. Your face meets his with a surprised stare, and before you can complain about the invasion of your space, he speaks. 

“When I tell you to do something, you do it. Fast.” His stare is intense, and he holds your hand tightly in his restricted grip. “Got it?”

“Yes, M-master.” You stutter, stunned by his sudden change of demeanor; you can’t even move. And the worst part is that he smells even better this close.

“Good girl.” He keeps staring into your eyes, grasping your hand as if he doesn’t intend to let it go. “Maker, you are such a pretty thing, I could tear you apart…” He contemplates out loud, his words surprising the last part of his sane mind as he’s becoming more and more vulnerable to foreign planet’s drugs.

“What?”

He slowly frees your hand, swallowing a lump in his throat. He’s starting to feel it —  pants failing to hide a very prominent arousal, mouth watering at the sight of your cleavage, you look fucking scrumptious; and he needs to devour you. He snaps his head to the side.

“Sorry.” Anakin mutters, seemingly regaining some of his senses. He shifts on the ground as you stare at him dumbfounded, not only because of his sudden vulgarity but also because the outline of his dick was now very visible and your eyes couldn’t help but glance. 

“Master?”

He groans. “Don’t say that.” He shamelessly palms himself in front of your eyes as if he were in pain from how tight his underwear was. “Don’t call me master. Not now, sweetheart.” His voice softens just for a moment.

“Master, are you okay?” You deny his request. Involuntary. Maybe because it was a habit, or maybe because some part of you really wanted him to get unbearably hard for you.

He yanks you towards himself with his sluggish grip. Tied hands wrap around your throat, and he hisses. “I fucking mean it. You call me that again. I’m going to bend you over this wreck of a spaceship and bruise your insides until someone finally comes and gets us off this forsaken planet.”

If you weren’t surprised before, you are now absolutely bewildered. You pushed him away, landing on your butt and quickly crawling reversely to create some space between yourself and the animal that possessed your master’s body.

Anakin stood up and leaned himself against the wreckage as if trying to fight something that’s been trying to claw its way out of his body. His back turned to you, shoulders rising up and down repeatedly as he struggled to speak.

“Go. Now.” He groans, trying to hold his panting in.

“Anakin?” You rise yourself from the ground and take a step towards him, hesitating to move or speak more.

“Fucking RUN.” A growl slips from his throat; you’ve never heard such an animalistic sound coming from him. It wasn’t an order; it was a warning, a head start for you. And if there was a perfect time to listen to his advice about doing everything he’s telling you — that was it.

So you do.

You feel the wind blowing through your ears and burning your throat as you try to get away as far from Anakin as possible. Your pulse is thudding rapidly, your limbs are shaking, and yet your insides are throbbing, aching to have relief from the extreme arousal created by your master’s primal behavior and the image of his hardening cock imprinted in your head. 

You turn your head slightly, glancing behind you, expecting to see Anakin making his way towards you, but instead you are greeted with the sight of nobody. Anakin’s nowhere to be seen. You look around, panting heavily, trying to spot movement somewhere between the trees. You fear him and what he could do to you, but the fact that he’s gone frightens you even more. Your master could never hurt you, right?

“Master?!” Your voice echoes through what seems to be an empty grove of an unrecognized planet. The only sound you can hear is your own breathing, and you realize how loud it is, how easy it is for any predator to hear you. Anakin's hunt was simple when his prey served herself on the plate before him.

A gust of wind passed through your ears at the same moment as Anakin’s hands gripped you from behind and harshly pushed your quivering body against a tree nearby. His wrists bruised red from the rope, which he seems to have torn apart. Your vision blurs for a moment from the force he’s grabbed you with. His lips press on your ear.

“I told you not to call me that, you stupid girl. Now look what you’ve done.” He whispers into your ear as his bulge presses against your ass. 

“A-Anakin-” You whimper, miserably trying to push him off you but instead just creating more friction on his already painful core.

His hand snakes into your robes, grasping your breast roughly, making your back arch. It’s hot and desperate to tear your flesh apart. And it feels so so good. So pathetically good that you almost feel like you’re the one taking advantage of him and not the other way around. He toys with your nipple, rubbing it between his fingers as his free hand grabs onto your thigh and presses your body onto his clothed cock.

“S’ alright, sweetheart… Your body’s so perfect…” He sinks his teeth into your neck and pulls on your delicate skin. “I’m so sorry—fuck—Sweetheart… I can’t stop-” His soft voice was a complete contrast to his forceful grip on your curves. His hands boldly groped you, kneading every bit of your body he could reach — all while grinding himself against you like an animal in heat.

“No- You can’t,” You whimper, trying to fight him and your own desire. “Anakin!” You gasp in pain when he presses your body into the tree, bruising your cheek.

“Shhhh… ‘s alright, just let me—” He pulls your robes, his hand making its way down your stomach, cupping your dripping heat. He inhales into your neck. “Don’t be scared.” He shushes your whines.

And it’s not like you’ve never imagined Anakin fucking you; you have. Way more than you should have, and yet you were shaking in fear, especially knowing that he was under the influence of something wicked.

“No, master-” You gasp as he inserts a finger inside you, wasting no time before fucking you with his hand. “S-stop-”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-” He whimpers into your shoulder as your walls clenches around his digit. He slips another in. “What a perfect cunt… I’ll fucking ruin it." It was almost as if Anakin’s alter ego was overtaking his normal self — the one who would never dare to touch his Padawan like that, to taint her precious body with his pathetic touch.

“Ah!” Your back arched into him involuntarily. It was wrong. So so wrong and yet deep inside you never wanted him to stop, not when your walls spasmed around him for a sweet release. 

“That’s it, good girl, come here.” He pulls his fingers out, making you pulse and whimper at the lack of pleasure. He quickly lands you both on the ground, spreading your thighs apart for himself. “Look at that,” He bites his lower lip. “And you say you don’t want it? You’re fucking soaked.”

“We can’t-” You whimper yet again. “You wouldn’t- Ah!”

He grins as he slaps his cock against your clit, rubbing it up and down your entrance as the wet, slippery sound reaches your ears.

“I’m going to fuck you one way or another, so you just might as well enjoy it, after all…” He leans on top of you, lining the crown of his cock with your hole. “…master knows best.”

He slides in with one swift movement, filling you to the brim as you claw his back with your nails. He’s big, way bigger than his fingers, forcing your walls to stretch wide open to welcome both his length and girth. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust much when he pulls almost all the way out and slams back in, earning a loud whimper from you.

“Pretty girl…” He coos, stroking your cheek as he repeats the movement more urgently. “Master’s cock feels good, hm?”

It did, Maker; it felt amazing. Every vein bruised your gushing hole just right as he thrusted into you, long and powerful strokes, head hitting your cervix at the perfect angle to make your toes curl. Each time his sack slapped against your ass, an electric sting flashed through your cunt, forcing a pathetic moan out of your mouth. Your vision is so blurry from how hard you are rolling your eyes back, you don’t even see how Anakin comes forward and presses his lips onto yours.

His kiss is starving, depraved of you. He tries to say something, but it’s pretty incoherent, muffled by your saliva mixing with his. He tugs on your lips, sticking his tongue far up your mouth, smearing spit over your chin. His teeth clash against yours every time he attempts to reach into you deeper, as if trying to devour you from the inside out.

“Fuck,”—thrust—”So…”—thrust—”Fucking…”—thrust—-”Tight-” He moans into your mouth, and you swear you can feel his whimpers inside your body.

Anakin props himself up on his forearms — each on the other side of your face. He snakes his fingers into your hair, making you look at him.

“Look at me, baby. Look at me, and tell me you love it. Beg me to fuck you, come on, baby…” 

He’s a mess, and he’s messing you up too; he wants you to plead, but there is no reason to; he’s already balls deep in you, abusing parts of your body nothing and nobody has ever reached before. 

“M-master…” A feeble whimper is all your body can muster when your whole lower half twitches from pleasure. “…Stop...” You claw on his chest, trying to push him off, maybe because you know how sick it is to allow him to turn you into a drooling cockslut, or maybe because you don’t want to cum so fucking soon.

“What’s the matter, angel? You wanna cum, yeah?” A wicked smile spreads across his face, as if he were listening to all of your thoughts while you laid there spread open. “Yeah? Your little cunt can’t take master’s cock at all, hmmm?” He mocks you, and you know you deserve it, for one reason or another.

His filthy words and a couple of powerful strokes are enough to have your juices coating his whole shaft as your back arches and hardened nipples rub against his chest. The orgasm he’s giving you blinds your mind; it drowns out every other noise that’s not his moans of pleasure or your wetness spurting around him.

“Thought so.” He laughs in your face, gripping the backs of your thighs and pushing them up — his cock still inside you, soaking up all you had to give it. “That’s alright, angel, it’ll hurt less now that you’re all stretched out and drenched.”

“N-no…” You cry when he adjusts your position to reach deeper into you, seemingly not even caring that your soaked walls are still aching from him fucking you over the edge just moments ago. “A-Ani…” It’s a bittersweet pleasure — the way he keeps going through your body desperately, trying to push him out and stop the ache inside of you.

“Look,” He releases his grip on your thigh and grabs your chin. “Look how perfect your little cunt is…” He slides all the way out and slowly pushes back in, his pubic hair tickling your skin. “As if it’s made to take me.” He forces your head to look down between your bodies and admire the mess he’s creating.

The more he sees you struggle to look without squirming, the more precise his movements are. He angles his painfully thick cock to scratch your spongy insides, your throbbing cunt squeezing him enough to force delicious grunts out of his mouth. 

Your eyes are blurry from the tears you didn’t know formed; you blink rapidly, attempting to catch a glimpse of Anakin’s face. You were self-evident about the desperate mess he’s turned you into, drenched in sweat and cum, your body sore and bruised, it was obvious, however, you didn’t expect Anakin to be as disheveled as well. His lips were apart, soaked in spit, the blue of his eyes barely visible from the expansion of the pupils, dirty locks sticking to his forehead, your master looked and, quite obviously, behaved like a brute beast devouring his prey. And yet, he was angelic.

Your idealization of Anakin was the root reason why you resisted digging his eyes out with your nails and putting up a violent fight against him for corrupting your body inside and out. Because, essentially, Anakin is still your master. The one who teaches you, the one who tends your wounds, the one who is now currently fucking you over your second orgasm with no mercy in his bloodshot orbs. And honestly, you are starting to genuinely enjoy it. 

“Just like that, pretty girl, keep squeezing me…” Anakin presses his lips against yours, forcing his tongue in and making you answer his desperate kiss. One of your legs is stretched up painfully, foot dangling over his shoulder, while the other almost involuntary wraps around him and makes sure he’s plunging deep into you with no chance of escaping. “Good girl, that’s it,” He moans into your mouth, “I’m going to cum, yeah, s’ like that, let me fill that tight cunt.”

“P-please…” You reach for his head, grabbing him by the roots of his hair to lock your lips back together. “Master- fuuuuuck!” There it is again — you are cumming all over his cock, slurping onto his tongue while milking him to his own orgasm. You can barely see or make sense of your surroundings; all you know is that he’s pounding you into oblivion, and you love every second of being stretched out for your master to use.

Anakin is grabbing your body, toying with your flesh. Even when his dick starts to fuck long threads of his thick cum into you, he can’t stop frantically abusing your body in every way possible; grabbing, biting, kissing, and fucking all come at the same time, sending your body into a sensory overload, and you can swear you are about to lose your mind and die right there and then.

But there is no time for dying, not when you realize Anakin has emptied himself deep inside you and yet is nowhere close to stopping. His cock, still hard, surrounded by the mix of your and his cum, is slamming into you with sensual yet forcible strokes, making it seem like you can taste the sourness of his release in your mouth. 

“So needy, going to make sure to fuck it deep in you, angel.” He whispers into your neck, you can’t help but whimper and dig your nails into his shoulder blades in hopes of him easing up on you, but he only pulls his face off your shoulder and greets you with a filthy grin. “If I knew how beautiful your fucked-out expressions and little whimpers were, I would have devoured this pretty pussy much earlier…”

“M-master…” You cry out for help, for pleasure, for him. Everything ceases to exist except Anakin. His expression softens just for a moment. He settles his cock inside of you and reaches out to wipe the mess of drool and tears from your cheek.

“It’s okay, my sweet Padawan." He whispers, his hands gently caresses your hipbones in a subconscious attempt to soothe your aching muscles. Anakin leans down to kiss your lips one more time. You can feel his whole length throbbing and begging for friction while the wetness of your releases seeps down your cunt. “I know you can take more, yeah? Just like when we train, alright? You want to stop…”—Thrust—”But I’m the Master…”

Your eyes roll back when your sex is rewarded with a glimpse of more pleasure, a little promise of what he can give you if you just enjoy it like he’s commanded you. So you buck your hips into him, seeking yet another release.

“There she is…” Anakin’s deranged expression makes its way back between his perfect features. To your surprise, he swiftly pulls himself out of you, which makes you whine from the lack of fullness and feeling of the mix of liquids trickling down your body. “Let’s see how useful your other holes are, mmm?”

And with that, you know — whatever he’s infested with still has yet to wear off.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker headcanons #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #anakin x reader smut #anakin x reader fanfic #anakin x fem reader #anakin x y/n #anakin x you #anakin smut #anakin fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars smut #star wars #anakin star wars #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker fic #sex pollen

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Spider-Man!Reader x Gotham City ??!? like the poor reader just being a kid when they’re exposed to some sort of radioactive spider by one of the Joker’s schemes and begins being the friendly, neighbourhood superhero. some of the baddest of the baddest have watched this kid help old people cross the street or carry groceries home or help kids out with the most miscellaneous things and just declared them “off hands” in some sort of weird immunity thing as they just let him do his thing whilst taking turns watching over him. one time the Joker tried fucking with him and he ended up being jumped by life fifteen bad guys and one good guy all because they knew something was wrong when he didn’t show up for school.

All the big baddies and heroes alike know the Reader’s true identity but they keep their mouths shut and just leave them be like they aren’t any the wiser and totally haven’t stalked the shit out of the poor kid in their extremely invasive way of keeping an eye on them.

I love the idea of the villains going out of their way to tell their respective heroes about the Reader and getting them to take the Reader on as a sidekick. This way they can ensure their darling is in good and capable hands while also getting the best training possible to become an even better hero then they already are. Like, I could see all of the rogues (excluding Joker) pulling up on Batman along with a very nervous and shy Reader, telling Batman that he needs to take this kid under his wing. This totally backfires on them though and Batman and the batfamily grow extremely attached to the Reader.

Also, I totally see the big baddies taking it easy on the Reader whenever they have to fight (that is if the villain even decides to ‘fight’ the Reader), even Deathstroke is pretty chill and holds back on them to an extent. Although, the reactions to the Reader being able to hold their own no matter who they’re up against is great though, the amount of pride and

No doubt that other villains and heroes outside of Gotham come to learn about the Reader. Especially the fact that their apparently ‘hands-off’ to any and all villains. It definitely results in other big baddies testing the limits regarding the Reader and being the one to actually get to them. Meanwhile, other heroes are definitely forming their own attachments for the Reader. Especially Clark and Diana, they definitely want to steal the Reader from Bruce and the batfamily.

I could totally see the Reader given how pure and just overall optimistic and hopeful they are being able to convert quite a few villains into becoming more good than bad or full on rehabilitating them. Whether the villain is actually rehabilitated is debatable and depends on the specific baddie but at least they’re trying to go along with it for the Reader’s sake.

God forbid anyone hurts the Reader or worse, they will come to regret the day they were born if any of the heroes and villains have anything to do about it. It’s one thing for them to do something to the Reader, the baddies have an agreed on line they don’t cross no matter what regarding fighting the Reader but anyone who does cross that line, whether on accident or not, is in for a real painful experience they’ll never forget.

#anxious answers #yandere dc villains #yandere batfamily #yandere justice league #yandere dc #yandere dc villains concept #yandere batfamily concept #yandere justice league concept #yandere dc concept #yandere concept

[merakiui]

Mother

yandere!kabukimono x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, pregnancy, implied codependency, brief mentions of murder/death, brief mention of childbirth note - recently i was inspired to write a kabukimono story, so i hope you can enjoy it!

i. the miracle of life.

There is a little human growing within you.

Kabukimono has never heard of such a phenomenon, but according to you it’s a normal facet of life for all creatures. He, who has only ever interacted with men, young and old, and the occasional grandmother, has never known the word pregnancy. It’s a complicated concept he struggles to parse at first—like that first sip of sake or the stickiness of a sweet. It’s something that leaves you pleasantly rounded like a ripe lavender melon, softens the skin on your bones, and allows you to grow into the kimono that was once two sizes too large. It’s something you speak of with overwhelming warmth, a fondness so enticing it’s almost tangible. It’s something the men at the furnace discuss with great pride and merriment, swapping stories of their beautiful, beloved wives and the tiny miracles that dwell within the womb, adoration painted upon weathered countenances. 

Miracles. Kabukimono has heard the word once or twice. Miracles, as he has come to learn, are wonderful things wrapped in silks. Newborns swathed in softness. Frail humans who manage to overcome illnesses that are said to snuff both body and soul with the excruciating passage of time. Sometimes a miracle is simple and not nearly as exciting as tales of heroes and villains or a mortal fight for recovery. Sometimes a miracle is waking up to begin another day. Sometimes it's torrential rain battering thirsty farmlands. Sometimes it’s a delicious meal prepared by a loving hand. 

If Kabukimono’s existence were to be defined as a miracle, it would be both a grandiose, gilded lie and bittersweet flattery all in one pretty package. Miracles are wanted, loved, and accepted. Disasters, curses, failures—however you wish to name the wandering puppet—are unwanted, despised, and abandoned. Kabukimono may not know every truth of this vast world, but this is one he’s understood from the moment he awoke in a lonesome pavilion. 

There is a little miracle growing within you. 

“Although they’re not very little now,” you remark, taking his cold, bloodless hands in your warm, blood-filled ones.

You guide them to your belly, secured snugly with a hara-obi, and he averts his gaze, if only to be respectful of the bare flesh you’ve put on display. The men at the furnace note he often stares at you; they’ve said it’s unbecoming of a young man to fix licentious eyes upon a maiden. Once, they joked of repentance for invasive gazes: A man who strays too far from his honor when a lady is involved shall gouge his eyes out and present them to her in hopes of earning forgiveness. Kabukimono, unable to comprehend the sarcasm or the laughter, procured a shard of shattered glass, raised it to his eye, and was promptly stopped by a very concerned Niwa. 

“Now listen here,” he had said, addressing the group of chuckling men, “it’s not very honorable to trick others.”

Kabukimono knows that there are two types of tricks: the painful kind and the painless kind. Betrayal falls under the painful category. Swapping his bitter tea for sake falls under the painless category (though he was not spared of the dizzying, disorienting effects or the subsequent hangover). Had he sliced his eyes from his skull, he wonders if he would have felt the sting, the agony, the fluid filling empty eye sockets—if such fluid even exists within his unique anatomy. Kabukimono is grateful for Niwa, for he often rescues him from painless tricks that may turn painful should he follow through with blind trust. 

And, had he truly lost his eyes that day, he never would have had the pleasure of looking at you like he does now. 

“Not very little…” he parrots, and he can practically feel the heartbeat from your miracle the moment his hands rest upon your belly. It shimmers in the candlelight, but that’s only because you’ve applied herbal oil meant to soothe weary muscles and prevent stretch marks. “How big will it become?”

You hum, idly trace patterns onto the tops of his hands, and say, “It’s difficult to approximate. Imagine…a very big lavender melon.”

Kabukimono can do that. He peers past you at the purple pile on the table, spoils from his last walk. He always returns with too many, but then pregnancy leaves you with a voracious appetite and sometimes you can eat more than one melon in one sitting. It’s very admirable, so he brings more each week and you never stop him. 

“That’s big,” he mumbles, awestruck, and he slides a hand across the width of your stomach. “How does it fit?”

“It’s a miracle.”

“Oh.” He leans closer, suspecting he feels movement from within, and he’s proven correct when something shifts under his palms. His eyes, blown so very, impossibly wide, flick up to yours. “It… It moved!”

“Of course,” you say, smiling, and your eyes are the prettiest gemstones in the moonlight. He could stare at them forever. “They kick and squirm often. This, too, is the sweetest miracle.”

“How so?”

“A restless baby means they are alive and well within.” You look like a statue of the gentlest goddess when you cradle your stomach. “It’s all I could ever hope for.”

Curiously, Kabukimono withdraws his hands and lifts the hem of his silks to view his own flat, porcelain stomach. He presses a palm against synthetic skin. It’s cold, but there is life crackling beneath his hand, just barely contained within the frame his mother personally sculpted. 

Mother. It’s another word he knows well, but he cannot seem to apply it to anyone other than his creator. But, as he has come to learn, a mother is meant to provide and protect. His mother is currently absent, so she cannot do those things. 

“You must have something you want.” 

Kabukimono lowers the fabric, cinches it tight, and peers at you. “Something I want?”

“Like a miracle of your own.”

“I am unable to conceive a miracle.”

You stare at him for a moment before laughing a quiet, melodious laugh. “It doesn’t have to be a child. It can be anything you want.”

His hands rise to his chest and he intends to admit his true wish—a heart and a place amongst humans—but instead he says, “I would like a mother for myself.”

“Do you not have a mother, Kabukimono?”

“I do… I did.” He shakes his head, finding that the admittance is too troublesome on his tongue. “I’m…unsure.”

You nod, your features softening with understanding. “Perhaps something else then?” Kabukimono reaches out to touch your belly, hesitates, and draws away, conflicted. You offer an encouraging smile. “You can touch. I don’t mind, and I don’t think the baby minds either.”

And so he does.

“I want to see your miracle when it’s brought into the world,” he whispers, speaking more to your baby than to you. “And I would like to know the miracle of life.”

As if in response, your little miracle kicks.

ii. the miracle of death. 

Your little miracle almost fell from the sky that envelops it.  

On the way to the furnace, a man bumped into you and you were sent stumbling on uneven ground. Kabukimono does not want to think of what could have happened if he hadn’t been a few steps behind—if he hadn’t rushed to your aid with a quickness rivaling lightning. He’d caught you in his arms and, noting the raw panic sullying such a friendly face, could only exhale a slow, relieved sigh. 

When you fell, you were holding your belly, shielding it as if it was worth more than your own life. When you fell, the man who had been the catalyst for this short-lived horror did not jump in to catch you. When you fell, you were a sliver away from tragedy. 

Kabukimono tastes red-hot anger in his throat, but he cannot understand where it’s coming from or why it consumes him entirely. But he must get it out of his system. It’s unpleasant and wrong and sordid. He doesn’t like it. Not at all.

And so, later that same day, he repays terror tenfold and leaves the man clinging to the strand he calls life.

“I won’t allow you to take my miracle away.” It’s spoken like a fact, shot through with syllables of deadly certainty. The sharpened tip of his blade prods at the man’s abdomen, a warning, a threat, and a promise all at once. For nearly taking a life, you shall pay for it with your own.

“Your mother?” the man had sputtered, terrified and confused, sticky with sweat and tears. 

Kabukimono does not let the man speak again, for the sword sinks into his stomach, and unease morphs into painful torment. To be certain the man won’t survive, Kabukimono twists the sword, sullies his hands in the process, and yanks it free with startling strength. Blood speckles a pristine canvas. It’s warm and wet.

He did not say mother. He did not. You’re a miracle. You are not his mother. You will be a mother to your miracle, not him because he isn’t a miracle. 

He did not say mother. 

Kabukimono finds himself sitting across from you now. There is a ghastly tear in crimson-spattered silks. You suspect the truth in the liquid staining his attire. Surely you must. But you keep your lips pursed and thread the needle through with expert fingers, humming as you work. Kabukimono sits primly, watching you with bright, indigo hues. You hum a melody he has never heard before.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m uninjured.”

“I’m glad.” You snip the excess string away and tuck the needle into your sewing kit. “It’s fixed. I’m sorry if it looks a little awkward. I’m not the best at—”

“It’s perfect,” he insists, admiring the stitching as if it’s the most valuable thing in all of Teyvat. Irreplaceable, for no one could replicate your exact pattern, and that’s what makes it so special. 

“Would you like to talk about it?”

He’s quiet for all of two minutes before the silence shatters his resolve. “Your miracle…” He frowns, suddenly ashamed. “He almost hurt your miracle…”

“But he didn’t, and I have you to thank for that.” You hold your hands out, palms up, and add, “Your hands aren’t meant to break and destroy others. You were given these precious palms to embrace others, to protect others, to respect others.” 

Slowly, he places his hands in yours. His seem to weigh heavy like a grimy sin, yet somehow all it takes is a single touch from you and all of his filth is cleansed. His fingers curl around yours, entwining like vines.

“I will embrace others. I will protect others. I will respect others.”

You squeeze his hands reassuringly. “When you’re upset, rather than acting rashly, take a step back and sit with your feelings. If the unpleasant thing persists, come to me and we can discuss. But please don’t take your frustrations out on others. You weren’t made to hurt others.”

“Then if I was not made for destruction, what else could be the purpose for my creation?”

To that, you’re unable to produce a satisfactory reply. Instead, you pull one of your hands free, lick your thumb, lean towards him, and scrub the blood from his cheeks. He blinks at you, unaccustomed to such consideration. The men at the furnace often tease him for trailing after you like a lost, little duckling, seeking your approval and affection. Tonight, since the men are nowhere in sight, he thinks he can allow himself to be greedy without any admonishments from Niwa or Katsuragi. You sure do like that (Name), huh? the latter often muses, exchanging wary, furtive glances with Niwa, as if both are preparing to weather a calamity. 

Kabukimono always speaks the truth unless he must take care to conceal it. So when he tells them, I like her more than I like the world that surrounds me, he means it. Because without you there is no world.

“Thank you, Mother,” he murmurs, as if it’s a secret, a title not meant to be uttered by him. 

Oh, he said it again. He said mother. 

iii. the miracle of motherhood.

Kabukimono kneels at your bedside like an angel of death dressed in the purity of white. He watches you throughout the hour, listening to your cries, your groans, your hisses, while a grandmother assists below, whispering soothing consolations that somehow reach Kabukimono’s ears despite the shrill noises that fill the room. Kabukimono has learned she’s a granny who delivers life, so he puts his faith in her to take good care of you and your miracle.

The process is much longer than he anticipated. Though you’re covered in sweat and tears, your chest heaving, your hand searching for him in the midst of the commotion, you are the most beautiful miracle he has ever known. He closes his hand around yours and you squeeze so hard you might just tear his wrist from the joint. But it doesn’t hurt him, and he spends the afternoon at your side, watching the toll the miracle takes on your body.

He never blinks, burning the scene into his retinas. 

Some time later, you are holding your miracle in your arms, tears tracking down your cheeks in salty streaks. Kabukimono watches mother and child with wide, adoring eyes. After all this time, your miracle is finally here! You’re holding such a fragile human and there is love trickling from your lash line. Kabukimono wants to cry with you, but the tears won’t come. 

So instead he smiles. You seize his wrist and drag him down to where you rest, and the smile widens.

“Your miracle is leaking,” he observes, and you snort in amusement.

“Crying,” you correct, bumping your forehead with his. “She’s adorable, isn’t she?”

Kabukimono is inclined to agree, but your eyes are not on him. For the first time in the many months he’s been acquainted with you, he is not all you see. Somehow that saddens him, carves a hole into him, but he can’t mourn. He shouldn’t. He’s come to learn that the miracle of childbirth is an occasion worthy of celebration. He should be happy for you—and he is—but there is a pang in his chest. Something is not fitting where it should. Something is amiss.

“I think I’ll name her…Aika.”

“Is it common to give miracles names?”

“Of course. Everyone has a name, even you. We’re all given one the moment we’re born.”

Even me… 

Aika continues to cry and you rock her to and fro in your arms, shushing her with a song. She settles within minutes, lulled to sleep, and you follow shortly after. He refuses to leave your bedside, preferring to watch over you like a dutiful guard.

Kabukimono weighs his two warring wants: a name of his own, generously given by his mother, and you. In this very moment, you are attainable. A name, however, is not. But perhaps he can survive without one if it means you’ll accompany him through nameless wandering.

He’s only ever whole when he’s with you. 

iv. the miracle of rebirth. 

The Balladeer stands at an all-too-familiar doorstep. He has since swapped his pure linens for a shroud of darkness, and he’s taken on a new alias (he refuses to call it a name, for only you can grant him one). You haven’t changed in the many years that have since followed, for you are not fully human like him. Yet you veil yourself in the wonders of humanity, always empathetic in nature, tainted with weak emotions. You will never be human, but then neither will he and there is catharsis in similarity. The both of you stand on equal ground in that regard, or so you might have thought. 

He is better because he feels nothing, or so he believes. Perhaps, in the center of the labyrinth that is his mind, he recognizes his flaws and the fact that he is worse because you can accept the many aspects of humanity. 

Shrugging these irritations away, he composes himself, squares his shoulders, and knocks thrice. He could forego etiquette altogether, kick your door down, and force himself inside for the sake of a cruel surprise, but he refrains from doing so. He suspects your newest miracle might tumble from your sky if he shocks you and then you will never know the sweet cycle of motherhood again.

You know better than to ignore Death when he comes knocking. The door opens wide; there’s no need to crack it and peek through the thin sliver when you’re already aware of the person who awaits you on the other side. 

As he has observed over the course of many months, you do have another miracle, hidden under the softness of a floral-patterned kimono. He smiles at you, sharp and wicked under a blanket of stars, and spreads his arms for a hug.

“Mother,” he says in a sarcastic singsong, knowing it unnerves you terribly when it spills like sin from his lips. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

Like an old habit, you welcome him in. Beyond your doorstep, the corpse of your most recent lover lies slumped and bloodied, decapitated and disemboweled, dragged so far there’s a vermilion trail marking the path. Sometimes you think these humans are not killed by The Balladeer but rather by the sheer ferocity of the hatred and anger he harbors. He’s always diligent with each of your lovers, swooping in the moment he catches their scents, like a predatory cat finely tuned for slaughter. 

He palms at your stomach, uncharacteristically gentle. “Aren’t you just full of miracles, Mother?”

There is a little human growing within you, and The Balladeer has made it his duty to bear witness to the birth of each one of your miracles.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere kabukimono #yandere kabukimono x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere scaramouche x reader

[woahiwrite]

Kuai Liang X F!Reader, Jealousy 18+

Content Warning: 18+ Minors imma reset your timeline. 5k words. Smut, jealousy, Harumi is mentioned but won't be making an appearance in this oneshot. I haven't written full on smut oneshots start to finish in so long so, we'll see how well this goes. Eating out(fem receiving), piv, multiple cream pies(wear protection unless you want some lil minions running around), multiple positions

  To my irls who requested I make Kuai Liang smut to feed his tag🤞🏾

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"Lord Liu Kang." You greeted, bowing at the waist beside your husband as he did the same, both of you rising back up to look upon the God as he addressed you both with kind smiles.

  "I hope building up the Shirai Ryu hasn't been too difficult during my absence." Liu Kang hummed, beginning to walk forward between the both of you, making you fall into formation on either side of him. "Geras had informed me of another incursion on our timeline, it had to be dealt with quickly." He explained, his hands clasped together before him.

  Coming to a stop alongside him and Kuai Liang as you all looked upon the courtyard, you saw that only two individuals were training right then, their training overseen by Smoke. Hanzo, the young boy that Tomas had came across, and another young initiate, Kazuma. "It is no problem at all, Lord Liu Kang, you have more pressing matters to attend to than helping us with the Clan." Kuai Liang stated, gaze locked on the two boys sparring with one another. Hanzo has tenacity, and was like a ball of fire with the fury that resided within him. Luckily, he had pretty good control over it. Lest he become more of a threat than an ally.

  You nodded in agreement, though you too were more focused on watching the boys train than the words that had fallen from Liu Kang's lips. You both had had so many less than promising initiates that you were both proud of how far he had come and yet were also afraid to lose your most promising one due to his tenacity. Already Hanzo had been in plenty of fights against the Lin Kuei, and though he was skilled, the Lin Kuei were seasoned, you both didn't want him to grow cocky and arrogant. For that would be his downfall.

  "I am glad you both understand. It worries me when I am unable to provide aid for others for an extended amount of time, anything could happen." The fire God confessed, moving on to continue walking, "Though I guess these are unnecessary worries, for you both are well equipped to hold your own." He added.

 

   Before any of you could say anything more, the sound of materializing sand reached your ears and you all turned as Geras appeared. He greeted you and your husband with a head nod before looking to Liu Kang with a slightly concerned expression. "I'll be right back." Liu Kang stated, a seriousness dripping into his usually warm tone as he and Geras walked out of earshot.

  You looked at them for a moment, wondering what the issue may be, but your attention was pulled away by a warm hand taking yours. "I do hope things aren't getting too out of hand." Kuai Liang sighed, rubbing his thumb over the ring that was nestled onto your finger. With every pass of his thumb, the ring seemed to get warmer, not to a painful amount, but it was comforting.

  "Things seem to be spiraling as of late, though Lord Liu Kang always knows he can come to us for help. We are the protectors of Earthrealm, stopping these..invasions is a part of doing that." You stated, taking in a soft breath through your nose. There were so many things to worry about and so much to complete when it came to building the Shirai Ryu, it was stressful but you both had assured one another it would be completed together. You, Kuai Liang, and Tomas. That's the only way it would be done efficiently and to the best quality. It was a difficult task, but one that had to be done to take up the large gap created in Earthrealm's defense thanks to Bi-Han's betrayal.

  Already, you had lost one close to you all to Bi-Han, luckily it was only to be temporary. Harumi had nearly been killed by your shared husband's brother, and for her safety and for the best recovery, she had moved into a neighboring clan to hopefully stay under the Lin Kuei's radar. Bi-Han had told Kuai Liang himself that family was not off limits, the extent of his dangerous intent would not stop for anyone. "You-"

  "Mrs. Shirai." Turning your head to address Liu Kang, you kept your hand in Kuai Liang's hoping to provide him some comfort for the turmoil that he surely felt even more than anyone else. "I need to speak with you for a moment, in private, please."

  Kuai Liang didn't say anything, but he gave your hand a small squeeze before dropping his back to his side. You smiled at him, before nodding at Liu Kang and following behind him.

 

   "Is everything alright, Lord Liu Kang?" You asked, eyebrows raised slightly. You had a feeling you already knew the answer. Glancing to the side for but a moment to address a worker who had just finished repairs on a building, you didn't notice that Liu Kang had stopped walking. You nearly bumped into his chest as he turned around, and the speed at which you stopped and tried to take a step back almost made you stumble. Bringing a hand forward, Liu Kang steadied you with a respectful yet firm hold on your waist, before his hands came back to being held in front of him. "Sorry." You laughed lightly, and were pleased that he laughed as well.

  "It's alright, I probably should have said something." He waved off the accident, eyes kind as he addressed you. "On another note, though-" He began, "Geras has informed me of..yet another, invasion onto this timeline. I do not know how these other Titans keep getting through, but there has to be a reason."

   "Who is it this time?" You asked, knowing that one of the first to break through had been a Scorpion from a past timeline, Hanzo, the very same kid the Shirai Ryu had taken in and began to train. You had wondered if that may have meant something, but whenever you asked the God before you, he never gave you a definite answer.

  Arms crossed over his chest, Kuai Liang tried not to stare too hard at you and Liu Kang, but he was curious. Why did the God have to talk to you in private? If it was something serious, shouldn't he know too? His brows furrowed slightly, feeling an unusual feeling build within him. He watched as you both conversed, Liu Kang placing a hand on your shoulder. Had Liu Kang always been so touchy? Kuai Liang almost wanted to walk over and see what you two were talking about himself, but he knew better, he had been taught better. He may have been a Grandmaster now, but he knew that was not on the same level as Lord Liu Kang. He was a Titan, a Keeper of Time, he held more power than anyone could probably fathom.

   Shaking his head, Kuai Liang tried and failed to try to turn his attention onto something else. He couldn't stop looking at the interaction, taking in every glance, every touch. The way Liu Kang looked at you, was that too fond? The way he would smile at you, and you would smile back. Kuai Liang hadn't noticed his darkened expression until a familiar voice came from beside him.

  "Kuai Liang? Is everything alright?" Tomas seemed to appear beside him, glancing over towards where you stood with Liu Kang before looking back at the orange-clad ninja.

  It took a moment for Kuai Liang to register what Tomas was saying, and when he did, he finally looked over at him. "I'm fine, brother. Why do you ask?" Kuai Liang questioned, noticing the irritation seeping through his tone and trying to lighten it as he spoke. Tomas looked at him with a raised brow, clearly not convinced.

  "You look tense."

  "I'm fine. How were Hanzo and Kazuma?" Kuai Liang asked, trying to get his mind off of what was going on in front of him. Though he couldn't help but keep glancing back at the conversation, watching Liu Kang rub your arm.

 

  "They were pretty good, I think Kazuma is trying to keep up with Hanzo, and so they are pushing eachother to do better." Tomas explained, looking between Kuai Liang and you again, you finally had began to come back over. "I can tell you more later though." He stated, noticing something that Kuai Liang hadn't. Looking over at his younger brother, Kuai Liang furrowed his brows at the knowing look given to him before Tomas made his departure.

  A soft hand on his cheek made him look forward again, and he felt much better seeing you in front of him. Looking at him with a kind smile. When he glanced up, Kuai Liang could no longer see Liu Kang. That was fine, Kuai Liang didn't know what he would say if he talked to him right then. "What was that about?" Kuai Liang asked, bringing a hand up to grab yours and interlace your fingers with his.

   "Lord Liu Kang was just informing me on what Geras had told him." You stated, leaving it at that. Kuai Liang wasn't pleased with that answer though. If that was the case, what was all the touching and full smiles? What Geras had told Liu Kang certainly couldn't have been any good, so what else had you both talked about? He didn't want to interrogate you though, but at the same time, he had never felt so much..negative emotion towards Liu Kang like this before.

  "If it's important, shouldn't I know as well?" Kuai Liang asked. He could see the conflict in your eyes, the uncertainty.

   "Lord Liu Kang asked that I keep this to myself. At least until the situation worsens, which he told me it most likely wouldn't. So, it should be fine." You stated, offering your husband a small smile.

   Kuai Liang didn't know how he felt about it. He was the Grandmaster, shouldn't he know of all threats? But besides that, you were his wife, he didn't want you to be in harms way. He wanted to know the details, wanted to make sure you were safe and wouldn't head out somewhere on your own. He had already almost lost Harumi. Whatever you guys did, you swore you would do it together. Kuai Liang released your hand and instead brought his down to hold your waist, feeling the slightest of shivers from you. It was something you always did whenever he touched your waist, or held your hips. Did you do the same when Liu Kang held you there? He glanced up from where his hand held you to your eyes, and he saw the way you must've noticed the look in his own.

  "Kuai Liang-" You started, but got cut off as he pressed his lips to yours, albeit brief, it was passionate and filled with his frustrations. When you parted, you looked dazed.

  Before you knew it, Kuai Liang had led you to your shared room, laid on your bed, and you could feel his warm hands pressing heavy against your skin as he pushed open your robes and snaked beneath your undershirt. You could barely catch your breath as he pressed his lips against yours, every momentary separation being kept together by a string of saliva. You had never had him be so rough with you, and you had barely even done anything yet. He relished in every shiver you gave him, every gasping breath, your hands burying themselves into his hair that was freed of the bun he normally wore it in.

   "What's gotten into you?" You finally ask as he pulled away long enough for you to formulate a sentence, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Kuai Liang pulled away, sitting back and grabbing your hand to pull you up with him.

  "What is this?" Kuai Liang asked, running his thumb over the band of your wedding ring.

  "My ring?" You responded, brows furrowed in slight confusion.

  "Who put this on you?" He continued, pressing a few soft kisses along the tips of your fingers, though he didn't allow his gaze to break away from yours.

  "You did."

  "And what does that mean?"

  You didn't say anything for a moment, lost in the warm brown lust-filled eyes of your husband. He let out a huff, his hands warm on your skin, "What does that mean." He repeated, letting go of your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist, moving you both around so he was seated in your spot and you rested in his lap. With his other hand, he held your jaw, tilting your head up to give him more space to lick and kiss along your neck.

  Shivering as he bit into your skin, nearly enough to draw blood, you let out a pleasured sigh as you answered, "I'm yours.."

  "That's right.." Kuai Liang pulled away from your neck so he could finish shedding you of your clothes, leaving you only in your pants and underwear since he couldn't do much else from this position. "You're mine."

  Placing his hands onto your hips, Kuai Liang began to grind your body down against his, not caring for the layers of clothes that still separate you there. You could feel how hard he had become, his erection pressed to you in all the right places. Your hands held tight on his shoulders as you moaned, though afterwards you were quick to try to get him free of his own clothes. You struggled as Kuai Liang didn't let up, but you managed to snake your hands inside the opening of his robe and inner shirt, tugging it apart and revealing more of his neck and chest to you. 

  Kuai Liang briefly relented in his motions only so that he could pull his arms through the articles of clothing, it all folding over against the belt around his waist, leaving his upper body bare to you as yours was to him. "Though you.." You began, running your hands over his broad shoulders, your left hand trailing up beforehand to run along the scorpion tattoo that ran across his upper arm. "You are mine as well." You stated, gasping out as Kuai Liang wrapped an arm around you again, turning his body and pressing you down against the bed as he ended up on top of you once more.

  Kissing you once, twice, before beginning to kiss down your body, Kuai Liang didn't seem to let up in his fervor, if anything, it served to grow even more. His hands were warm as they tugged down your pants and underwear and left you bare beneath him. Yes, he was yours and you were his, and though he knew neither of you needed to be reminded, a small refresher was never a bad thing. For his head could still not get rid of the sight of Lord Liu Kang's hand on your body, and for that he needed to let his mind be filled with memories of how you felt beneath his hands. His touch bringing those sounds he loved so much from you. Rather it be a moan, a laugh, or a contented sigh.

  Kissing down your stomach, Kuai Liang purposefully skipped over the place he knew you wanted him most to place kisses and bites along the insides of your thighs. Your legs came up to rest over his shoulders, heels pressing into his back in an attempt to pull him closer that only made him let out a small huff of a laugh as he continued to indulge himself. Though he knew prolonged time doing so sometimes caused you to become shy, Kuai Liang was always one to spend time appreciating your body before ever actually truly touching you. It was done for a short moment earlier when he had placed kisses along your fingers, but now that he had gotten you completely bare, he wanted to do more.

  Your thighs were his favorite, for when with you, in private, he spent a lot of time on them. You were always coaxing him to rest his head on your legs and let you run your fingers through his hair to relieve some stress from the day. He could spend all day on them, or between them.

  Wrapping his arms around your thighs and pressing his hands into your hips, Kuai Liang finally moved his face to be level with your most sensitive place. The jealousy that had plagued his thoughts began to give way to being focused entirely on you. Liu Kang could not and would not ever be graced with the sight of you like this. Wouldn't hear that delicious sigh you let out when he finally placed his mouth on your cunt, the way your body strained against his hands. Wouldn't feel your fingers running through his hair and tugging as he took to eating you out like it was the only task he had ever been given.

  No, you were his, and he was yours. "Pull your legs up." Kuai Liang huffed, licking his lips and tasting you on them, releasing the hold he had had on you so you could follow through with his command. You did as asked, and Kuai Liang smiled as he was on you once again. Like this, with your legs up and his arms keeping them pinned down, he could easily keep you still enough for him to indulge in you to the best of his capabilities. Licking a long stripe up your cunt, Kuai Liang did not let up as he slightly shook his head from side to side, putting a little more of his body weight down on you as you mewled and pushed up against him.

  "Kuai Liang~" You moaned above him, driving him to continue. He couldn't help but push his hips down against the bed in hopes of relieving himself of some of the pressure that had built up in the front of his pants. Kuai Liang groaned against you at the friction caused, and was answered with another moan from you at the added stimulation. He took to rutting his hips against the bed to keep himself sated whilst he focused on you, letting out a slight guttural groan as you tugged his hair and tried to grind your hips against his face the best you could. Adjusting his hold on you, Kuai Liang gripped you tighter, pressing you down so that you could only sit and endure the onslaught of pleasure.

Your moans were a delight to his ears, filling his head and swirling around in it until it was all he could think about. How as you grew closer, they grew in pitch, whining and crying out to him as you gave in to the feeling of it all. Even as you came on his tongue, your body shuddering against him, Kuai Liang didn't stop. He kept going, knowing that the grip he held on you would surely leave marks, but he liked that thought. Liked that you would have something that reminded you of him that only you and him would see. One of your hands came down to grip his forearm, nails digging into his skin as you came again, this one harder than the last.

  It was only then that he pulled away, his hands rubbing along your thighs and helping you bring your legs back down to rest along the sheets. "Are you alright?" He asked, watching you as your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. You looked over him with glazed over eyes, but you still were present enough to nod your head.

   "Good." Standing up, Kuai Liang began to undo the belt around his waist. "Because we aren't done yet."

   Talking off the belt, the clothes that had been bunched up around it fell, and he took a moment to kick off his pants as well. You looked to him with a gaze filled with intrigue and lust. Eagerly accepting the kiss he gave as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close. He hummed softly as he pulled away, before using that hold he had on you to easily flip you over. Letting go of you to grab onto one of the pillows on the bed, Kuai Liang sat back on his heels and patted the side of your ass. "Up." He ordered, waiting for you to lift your hips up enough for him to slide the pillow beneath them.

  Letting out a soft breath at the sight, Kuai Liang ignored the urge he got to indulge himself in the taste of you once again, and instead positioned his legs on either side of yours. Balancing his weight on one arm, Kuai Liang used the other to run his fingers along your slick folds, gathering the mixture of his saliva and your release that glistened with the light it would catch. "Kuai Liang.." You breathed out, wiggling your hips in an effort to get more stimulation. It made him smile.

   "Still want more? I thought you'd be more tired." He joked, knowing damn well after years of being married together that your stamina had grown to match his, and that no session you both had ended after just one round unless you were interrupted. You glanced back at him from over your shoulder, and he could catch a hint of the smile that you wore thanks to the way it reached your eyes.

  "I can take all that you give me."

  Kuai Liang's eyebrow jerked up slightly, rubbing his slick-covered hand along his cock to aid in making things as smooth as possible. "Is that so?" He questioned as he guided himself to your cunt, slowly pushing in. A soft moan left your lips as he slid further inside, pulling back for but a moment only to continue forward with a bit more force. Your walls enveloped him in a warmth that was different than the one he constantly lived in, and he found relish and comfort in it.

  You finally responded to his question with a hum of confirmation, arching your back a bit more and letting out a shaky breath at the added stimulation. Kuai Liang lowered himself down until he was resting on his forearms, snaking his hands under your arms so he could hold onto your shoulders to keep you in place as he began to grind his hips against yours. One of your hands came back to hold onto his thigh whilst the other gripped his arm, and he felt your hands clench as he began to actually thrust. It did not take him long to find a pace that worked for both of you but was faster than the slower one that he usually would go at. Kuai Liang had always taken it slow with you before, he liked to draw it out, to spend as much time with you connected as one as he possibly could.

   Though for once, he wanted more than that. He wanted to leave with you both covered in the marks of one another, and while he didn't like to think about others knowing what happens in his private life, he wouldn't mind anyone seeing the testaments to his love to you left on your skin or his. Just so they could make it clear in their heads that you were his wife and that you belonged to one another.

  

   You cried out beneath him as he continued to press against the most sensitive spot within you, driving you closer and closer to yet another orgasm. Your walls tightened sporadically around him as that peak began to draw near again. In this position, you almost felt overwhelmed with how much you could feel. So close like this, you could feel Kuai Liang's chest pressing against your upper back, your shins resting over his calves, feel his breath against your skin. His hands were tight on your shoulders as he fucked you into the mattress, the bed shifting with every thrust, your moans broken as your body jerked forward with each hit of his hips against your ass.

  The only thing on your mind was Kuai Liang.

  He knew it too, if the way his name fell from your lips like a mantra said anything.

  

  "Cl-mm-close..." You moaned, your nails digging into Kuai Liang's thigh as your other hand moved from his forearm to grip the bedsheets. Kuai Liang was too, you could tell in the way you could feel his cock twitch, and just how loud he had become. Usually, he was more quiet, merely huffing or groaning. Now, almost every thrust was accompanied by a grunt, and he moaned at the feeling your nails pressing into his skin, and he groaned as your walls squeezed him.

  With one final thrust, you both came at the same time. You felt as if you had never moaned so loud, body tensed as the moan came almost guttural. Your voice had been so loud in your ears you didn't even catch that Kuai Liang had finished too until you noticed his hands pressed against the bed rather than gripping your shoulders. You could hear the slightest of whines leave him, his arms shaking as he fought through his climax to keep himself from placing all of his body weight down onto you. His breathing was heavy, washing over your skin and making you shiver.

  Your lower stomach felt warm from him finishing inside, but your shoulders felt warmer. Sliding your hand over, you placed your hand on top of his, and you could feel just how hot his hands had grown. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you whimpered at the empty feeling as Kuai Liang pulled out. Moving the pillow from beneath your hips, you groaned as you flipped over onto your back, looking up at Kuai Liang now and taking in his disheveled state. His face was flushed, strands of hair sticking to his skin as he looked down at you with eyes darkened thanks to the dilation of his pupils. You always thought he looked so good like this.

  Bringing a hand over, you hummed at the warmth of Kuai Liang's palm as he pressed it against your cheek before leaning down and capturing your lips in his. The warmth was opposed by the coldness of his ring, and you found yourself being lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours. Tasting hints of yourself on his tongue. You hadn't even noticed him realigning himself with your entrance before he had began to push in again. You both moaned into the kiss, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck and pull him closer. He wasn't fully hard again, not yet, but he liked the warmth when being nestled into your cunt.

   It was warm, yet it was also messy, your shared ecstasy slathered along the front of his thighs and the inner sides of yours, sticky as it coated his cock. "Are you going to tell me what made you want to do this?" You asked after a moment of silence, easily following along with the motion of Kuai Liang rolling you both over so you could rest against his chest. Slightly rolling your hips so you could get more comfortable, you also did it to hear the hitched breath that came from him.

  "I..did not like seeing Lord Liu Kang touch you." Kuai Liang stated, running his hands along your sides and up and down your back, soothing the marks he had left behind.

  You rose an eyebrow as you planted your hands into the bed so you could push yourself up and look him in the eyes. "You were jealous? Kuai Liang-"

  "I know, it is a childish thought. But the way you both looked as you talked to one another, it made me think."

  Shaking your head, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away and carefully pushing yourself up into a sitting position, his hands sliding down your body to rest on your hips. "If you know it is childish then stop thinking about it. I am your  wife, Kuai Liang, and you are the only man who could ever make me feel the things you do."

  Grabbing his right hand, you placed yours over it and guided his hand up your body, leaning forward so your body was closer to his. Bringing his hand to your breast, you prompted him to squeeze it and run his fingers over your nipple. "No other man can touch me like this." You affirmed, brows furrowing slightly at the rush of pleasure from the attention to your chest before guiding his hand further up. "I'd let no other man touch me like this, unless they wished to lose their hands." You stated, seeing a flash of dark intrigue in his eyes. You didn't fail to notice over the years that your husband was one to get turned on by shows of your strength and battle prowess. You were rewarded in feeling his cock grow more erect within you.

   Guiding his hand up your neck, you parted your lips and took two of his fingers into your mouth, tasting a hint of the both of you on his fingers. You hummed around them as he pressed his fingers against your tongue before pushing himself up with his other arm so he could wrap it around your waist. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, Kuai Liang brought his hands to grip your ass, starting off slow in moving you up and down now that he was fully turned on again. "My beautiful wife.." Kuai Liang began, pressing kisses along your neck and shoulder, "My beautiful yet deadly wife." He hummed, leaving marks along your skin where your clothes would cover.

  His words did not match with the pace he came to set, as his hands forced you up and down on his cock at a pace that made your ass sting with the force of it hitting against his thighs. The room filled with sounds of your shared pleasure, a symphony of moans and proclamations of your love. The sticky slap of skin on skin, breathless moans and guttural groans, the slight creak of the bed as it followed the heavy motion of it all. Kuai Liang's hands were hot on your skin, but he kept himself under control, not letting himself grow too hot to leave burns. Your hands buried into his hair, grip tight on the dark brown tresses as your body gave in to the pleasure it was being given.

  Kuai Liang did not relent, did not stop as your walls squeezed him like a vice as you came once again, body shaking as your grip on him became near painful. He did not stop even as your body shuddered with the aftershocks, not slowing down until your nails dug into the scorpion tattoo on his bicep and let out a choked sob as you came yet again, this time pulling a moan from him as your cunt tightening around him pulled him over the edge with you. He slowed down your movements until you were both still, save for your shuddering breaths and shivering bodies. "You're alright..I've got you, just breathe." Kuai Liang huffed, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close to him.

  Your body grew heavier against him as all the energy you both had built up seemed to finally release, and he let out a small chuckle as you pressed your head into the crook of his neck. "I'll draw a bath." Kuai Liang stated, carefully pulling you off of his cock, biting his lip to hold back a sound at how sensitive he felt. You let out a tired hum, relaxing into the plush mattress as he pulled the blankets up over you.

  "I love you."

  He smiled a little lopsided at you, exhaustion wracking through his body as well, but he forced himself to get up so he could care for you. Pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, he brought his hand up to move some strands of hair from being in your face. "I love you too."

#mortal kombat fanfiction #mortal kombat x reader #kuai liang x reader #kuai liang smut #scorpion x reader #woahiwrite

[metacrisisdoctor]

i think sometimes people have a hard time seeing jackie as an individual person and this leads to them sort of seeing her as a villian in rose's story.

in my opinion it's pretty important that as much as jackie is sometimes wrong about things, she is also right about a lot of things as well.

i do feel like jackie was unintentionally holding rose back out of fear of losing her, hence her "airs and graces" comment etc- but rarely do people think of why jackie feels like this.

think of jackie tyler. in doomsday she is forty. this means when we meet her and rose she is 39, meaning she had rose at age 20, meaning she was pregnant at age 19- the same age rose is when we meet her.

19 is young.

think of jackie tyler, age 21, widowed with an infant daughter, on an estate and looked down upon. in army of ghosts we see that jackie's father passed away years ago, and we never see her mother either.

this is partly why the fandoms universal eyeroll at love and monsters frustrates me. that episode fleshes jackie out and shows us how deeply alone she is, but how loyal she is to rose despite the fact that the only family she has sees her as second best. the tentoo and jackie big finish audios also bring attention to this. jackie is not afraid of rose advancing in life, she is afraid of being left behind. because she has no one.

it pains me that the bf audios with her and tentoo aren't more widely known because they explore jackie and her relationship with both the doctor and rose a lot. we see how much jackie loves, and has always loved, the doctor. how she too missed him after doomsday. how she wants to be close to him again but she's afraid of what him being back in rose's life means as well, because now that the doctor is in their world, what is stopping them from leaving again? and i think it's important that jackie feels that way because it shows that her love for rose isn't just because she was lonely, despite it having had played a large part.

she genuinely loves them both and does not want to be without them, so much so that she says if/when the tardis grows the doctor has to take them all- because he has a family now. this mirrors the doctor telling donna that rose had a family and that they had become his family as well in the runaway bride.

in this sense, we should know that the doctor and jackie are on the same page. we know how much he missed rose and how that extends to the sense of family he found in the christmas invasion. however, jackie's own poor self image leads to her projecting her own fear of being left behind onto tentoo and to his relationship with rose and it causes friction in their relationship until they can both be honest with each other in the climax of the audios when they're about to die together and realize they want to live, which is why rose trapped them into talking in the first place.

jackie struggles because rose was so young when she met the doctor, and she was RIGHTFULLY wary of their relationship considering the last time rose trusted a man he left her behind and took all her money. in the audios we hear jackie say that she was the one who payed off all of rose's debts which is a stark contrast to the idea some people seem to have that jackie didn't have a job and mooches off of rose entirely- which makes no sense anyway because how does she keep the lights on at home when rose is missing for an entire year? it's much more plausible that she and rose both have jobs, and that she was going to look for a second job.

jackie gets everything she wanted in a sense. her husband back, a son, rose is still with her, but her own low sense of self is something that is hard for her to shake off because she has been looked down upon for so long because of who she is and how she was raised, so much so that the thought that rose looks down on her terrifies her. in the end of time flashback we sees jackie say that at that point in her life she isn't gonna do much better; but rose tells her she doesn't know that which speaks volumes. rose is afraid of falling victim to the helplessness jackie has in the last twenty years, but we also see that deep down jackie also wants more to her life as well, she just thinks it's too late.

jackie is proud of rose, she grows to love the doctor, but her fear of rose losing herself entirely is a valid one. just like rose wanting more out of life is valid as well. they're both right and they're both wrong which is why they bicker but also very very clearly absolutely love each other more than anything.

this is why the ending rose gets is perfect for everyone. rose gets to keep defending the earth at unit with the doctor, a life that she always wanted. the doctor gets to, in one life, have a family and be human and jackie gets to find her sense of self again and find "more" in her life, and doesn't lose what makes her who she is at all because people like jackie - working class people - are the ones who make it possible for "bigger" things to happen which is what the purpose of the back and forth between rose and jackie is. rose wanting more from her life is valid, but it's also important to rememeber not to look down on people who you subconsciously see as "less" because "less" is just as valuable.

of course rose leaving helped jackie grow, but sometimes the way people talk about jackie is unintentionally classist while also defending rose from classism.

#rambles #jackie tyler #rose tyler #tenth doctor #tentoo #metacrisis doctor #doctor who #dw #big finish

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Hey ummmmm can I request

Modern Aemond OR Aegon being rough with their girlfriend but also with super sweet aftercare? And she has a hardcore praise kink and tiddy sucking?

why not both nonnie 🤭 I can see both boys in this situation, and it’s HOT !!! 🥵 hope you enjoy x

Untamed & Primitive.

PAIRING: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader | Modern!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader.

WORDS: 1,991.

WARNINGS: modern AU, swearing, p in v sexual intercourse, praise kink, (?) breast kink/tiddy sucking, nipple play, size difference/kink, NSFW !!! minors DNI!

A/N - again... these were both meant to be short, slutty blurbs and I managed to make a mess. forgive me. hope ya'll enjoy this horny, word vomit xxxx

MODERN!AEMOND TARGARYEN x FEM!READER:

Aemond is a gentle, mindful partner: always prioritising you over his own humane needs, often when it came to mundane things like preparing you food, helping you with your assignments. Even if it was for a class he wasn't attending himself, making sure you never lifted a single finger. He thoroughly knows how to take care of you, and never shied nor hesitated from the responsibility that he sought out himself since becoming your boyfriend.

One could say, he liked to be in control... Unsurprisingly, this seeped into Aemond's attitude towards sex.

Patient with you at first, as means to not frighten you, however, also to spare himself time to grow accustomed and familiar to your unique body. Aemond's sexual history was not as grand as his elder brother. He used the initial stages to his advantage, and after sometime, once the notion and act of sex in your relationship became easier to delve into, and he became confident, was when he really began to shine. Just has he selflessly burdened himself with the responsibility of tending to your every need, Aemond's need to "satisfy" your sexual desires remained unfazed.

He selfishly grew obsessed with how obedient you would easily succumb to him. Being so acclimated to him attending to your day to day affairs, listening and mindlessly nodding along to his words, the burden of not needing to think for yourself became a consequential habit. You'd cosily warmed up to the comfort he spurred, without even knowing it...

He thrived being on top of you, invasively observing you from above as your bodies closed in on one another, pressing up against each other, as he'd meticulously thrust into you. Aemond enjoyed the close proximity, being able to see the fine details, all the visceral, raw reactions only his touch could provoke, as he would "fuck you senseless" [so he liked to phrase it]. He often relished in starting slow, taking his sweet time, pacing his movements as he would tease you, gradually stimulating you. He was calculative in that sense, edging you closer and closer to a climax, until he had you practically begging for his cock.

Although when push came to shove, he did not enter so lightly, nor continue with the slow, pleasant pace you'd grown accustomed to. His cock was long, longer than the average size [although not thick] he used its veiny length greatly to his advantage. With each thrust, he used his body strength and stamina effectively, making each thrust just as formidable as the initial shove. Much thanks to his consistency in gym training, Aemond's endurance was impressive yet vigorous. When you felt your body growing feeble, his remained strong and robust continuing to pound you into an oblivion, your heated, sweaty bodies smacking together. His feral mind often distracted by the drive to persist in fucking you numb, he wouldn't realise the grip he held you in would tighten, often leaving red hand-print marks and bruises across the tender flesh of your waist, hip and back. Seeing you wincing and groaning in pain, he would often attempt to encourage you to carry on, "finish the deed baby", as he'd hail your efforts, commending you on what an "excellent job" you were doing for him.

"You are doing so so well for me, baby. Come on, let's see how far you can go... Impress me, baby."

"Making me so proud, mhmm, making me so very proud indeed."

"Fuck, you look so amazing, right now. These breasts- Look at you in all your glory... Hmm, my beautiful, beautiful cub."

Your soft, plump breasts often squished against his lean chest and it drove him wild, as much as he miserably tried to hide it. Occasionally, his large, rough hand always managed to find their way to them, cupping them, kneading them gently, as his thumb would flick your nipple, its sensitivity causing you to moan. The more comfortable he became with your body, the more prone he felt succumbing to urges of groping you, aggressively playing with your 'assets' as though they were toys he could fiddle with.

Nonetheless, upon you both reaching a climax, saturating in each other's mess, Aemond's need to care did not stop. Gaining a few, spare minutes to regain himself, he would disappear into the bathroom, running a warm bath for you, without even needing to ask, before making his way back. Patiently helping you up, supporting you up as he'd carefully walk you over into the foamy bathtub. He refused to let you cleanse yourself, relishing in even more time that he could share being intimate with you. The praises did not stop during the sex, as he gently stroked the soapy loofa against your flustered skin, he'd vividly worship your body and its strength in taking him in so well.

"Like a true goddess, my dearest. You leave me spell-bound as always..."

He'd either join you in the bathtub [occasionally for another round], otherwise, hastily showering himself, as you'd dress, only for him to continue the spoils of aftercare with a lavish message. Lathering your skin with essential oils and creams, as he'd knead all your sore, tender spots that he'd imposed on you. He felt the guilt after, and made certain you were nurtured for enduring his untamed behaviour...

MODERN!AEGON ii TARGARYEN x FEM!READER:

To say Aegon was a proud lover, would be an understatement... The man knew how to fuck, and could confidently prove he knew his way around a woman's body. In saying so, he knew precisely how to please a woman in the act also, although this varied, for rumours had widely spread that he was also known to be a lazy lover. Only prioritising his own personal needs of satisfaction, than whomever he was pretentiously bedding.

And yet, he positively trampled these accusations with his treatment towards you. He was sensual [at first], more cautious and tender with you, for he knew that sex was unnatural to you, you were not as well acquainted to the act nor as seasoned as Aegon was. He wanted to make certain, that you were okay.

"Is it alright if I do this, baby? How does this feel? Am I hurting you too much, baby?"

The constant worrying and concern however, you'd soon come to realise, was more so an 'innocent' facade of Aegon's true nature. He had no preference of how or what particular positions he preferred to fuck you, the man was adaptable. Although he did often, greatly enjoy watching you from atop, observing all the immense effort you would put into satisfy him, the way your body would arch, shudder and grind into his. The way your tits would lively bounce drove him incredibly feral, always managing to score a cheeky smile on his flustered face. He knew how to handle you even from below, managing to assert his dominance. Telling you what to do, praising you for being such a "good princess" , the way he used his large, rough hands to manhandle you consistently.

He was infatuated and thrived off of how obedient you were to his touch and voice. Almost as though, unconsciously he had this control over you. You did not want to disappoint him, for he had bedded many girls, you refused to let Aegon think of you as them or any lesser [although he did not know this]. It was almost as though you felt this intense burden, an expectation to uphold, to satisfy him deeply in ways no one else could.

Seeing the way he'd closely focus on your tits, you'd initially taken his hands in yours, guiding them up, each palm cupping and kneading at your plump breasts.

"You can touch them, Aeg, I-I don't mind... You can touch anything, I'm all yours."

Since those words left your quivering, soft lips, Aegon took that as a consensual sign of 'permission', caving in to all his carnal urges.

He took his dim infatuation with your breasts to a whole, ungodly level, often finding his plump, wet lips latched on, suckling at the nipple and the flesh around it. His tongue sensually lapped its way over your nipple, flicking at it and occasionally biting down at the flesh, leaving a faint bite mark as a result. Often he'd teased that if he sucked hard enough, "sweet" milk would pour... He relished in the idea of 'marking' you, claiming you physically as his. Often causing him to leave red, purplish hickeys across your neckline or anywhere else he deemed fit and obvious. He devoured the way you'd jolt to it, how you'd helplessly moan for him, begging for him to be gentle and yet, your body indicating that whatever he was doing, it pined and craved for more...

"But look at how wet you are, princess, how wet I've made you. This is all my undoing."

Aegon consistently admired the effort and dedication you gave to riding him, when he felt you close to climax or himself, he’d seat himself up. His arms snaking behind from your waist to your back, as one hand gripped your neck tightly. He’d attempt to secure your position, not wanting you to jump or jolt, pushing your mass down against his, as he felt his thick cock, deeply pulsating inside of you, your walls desperately clenching around his wide, girthy circumference.

Aegon’s cock was of average length, although its thickness made up for it greatly. He stretched you out like no makeshift dildo before, your body jolting with electricity each time he forcefully shoved his way in. Always leaving you fragile, a dull ache in between your thighs after endless rounds of fucking. Whenever he'd plunge himself in, no matter how slowly he inserted himself, nor how widely spread out your legs were for him, it never eased the sensation.

And despite, the electrifying pain, Aegon applauded you for taking him in so well, determined to persist, he never thought of you incapable. In fact, quite the contrary, your sheer tightness around his cock, your noticeably clenching walls, only made it even more pleasurable for him.

“Fuck, baby… Your cunt was made only for me. Look at you, letting me stretch you so wide, you are doing so well baby, I promise...So, so very well.”

In return, after both reaching an climatic orgasm, Aegon often returned the favour... At first, you eagerly tried to be the one to attend to him, although seeing as how tiresome and weak you were, he refused to let you. Declining your help, and proudly taking the role of ensuring aftercare, himself, although if he was being honest, this would be a first... He had lazily grown accustomed to someone else bearing the responsibility to tend to him [spoilt in that sense] or often he would just leave the girl to attend to the mess herself. However, seeing you in such a state, he felt immense guilt and couldn't bear the thought of using you nor seeing you whither. Nonetheless, the first few times, you'd often have to verbally prompt and guide Aegon through the process, "I need to clean myself, Aeg, could you please prepare the bath/shower for me?" [often him joining you, as means to "save water" as he slyly liked to put it]. Regardless, he never questioned nor was reluctant to help you, carrying you from the bed and bath, vice versa. His favourite part of the aftercare was what followed... Often you both were exhausted and too lethargic to be productive with the rest of the day/evening, which meant a chill night in, often binge watching films. Aegon loves ordering take-out, replenishing his strength and energy [for more potential rounds of fucking, so he's optimistic for] and basking in your loving company. Even more so, he relishes in you hand-feeding him dessert, teasingly sucking off your fingers, he's kind of a sucker for domesticity now that he's with you. Although his primitive side, never ceases in the bedroom...

#aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen x fem!reader #aegon ii targaryen x y/n #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aegon ii targaryen #modern!aemond targaryen AU #modern!aegon ii targaryen AU #modern!aemond #modern!aegon ii #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagines #aemond tagraryen fanfic requests #aegon ii targaryen fanfic requests

[nayatarot777]

{what do you need to know right now?} ~ oracle pac

• pile one •

cards:

say what you mean

death and the maiden ~ “invasion, boundaries violated, dominance”

experience rebirth

blinded to pain

garden ~ “something lovely will grow from this”

dumah ~ angel of dreams

spell ~ manifestation

significant numbers:

18, 28, 12, 13, 15

you guys need to be honest with someone about how smothered you feel by them. they’re violating boundaries, wanting to be all up in your space constantly, and not letting go of you when they need to. you may have tried to call things off with this person, but i feel like you’ve not done it in a very direct way. you need to say what you mean. this person might not have intentions of disregarding your boundaries, but they are. and they’re not going to know if you don’t just say it. for some of you, this is the other way around. someone is telling you that they want to just move on from you and onto a new path in life (or their actions are showing that clearly) but you’re thinking that you can just force yourself into their energy in some way and it’ll change their mind, but this is a violation of their boundaries and this is unfair. you’re not realising how much you’re actually hurting them. whichever scenario you fit into, crossing the threshold of the ending of this situation will cause something new to bloom.

now is the time to manifest what you’ve been daydreaming about. this new beginning needs to be all about yourself. you may jump from connection to connection but you’re not realising that you’re self-sabotaging this way. you’re not going to find your dream life in another person.

your guides are also suggesting that you begin to focus on manifestation and creation. perhaps witchcraft too. this current time period requires you to just dive into something that you feel like you’re able to create pretty easily. there could be something that you’re extremely good at but you may be focusing on other people or external situations that you have no control over. something could be living “rent free” in your head, and your guides are suggesting that you funnel those thoughts and feelings into whatever it is that you feel like you’re extremely skilled in. this is when you’re going to see your manifestations begin to come in. and that’s how you’ll begin to learn how to transmute energy into something of use to you. and this could definitely help in a healing process.

you should write down all of the goals that you want to achieve. it’s time to step into the energy of setting goals and beginning to feel what it’s like to embody confidence in your abilities. you could also practice “stream-of-consciousness” writing. that will help with any creative block. especially if you’re a writer. also, if you enjoy writing, creating a story about a character who accomplishes everything that you are going to accomplish will help you in your path. especially if you like to read books and you’re someone who a good story sticks with. no matter how short or long, creating this piece of writing that you can be proud of will centre your thoughts around what you’ve written about. and since it’ll pertain to you and your life, it can be used as a tool. it’s literally scripting your life into play, at that point. if you’re a virgo sun, taurus rising, mercury in the 5th house - any astrological birth placement that indicates being a bookworm as a child - this could be a very healing tool for your inner child. especially in terms of being able to fulfil your inner child, and then showing your inner child that you are capable of becoming the “character” that your inner child looks up to, in a way. and this could be a way to build confidence and reprogram your unconscious mind.

also, if you have a small animal (a rabbit specifically), you need to play with them more. they could be getting aggressive, or biting more than usual, or just being more destructive in some way and this is the reason why. play with them!! 😂

if you’d like a private reading, then please check out my pinned post 💞🤍

• pile two •

cards:

procrastination

carnivorous flower fairy ~ “a tempting offer has a high price”

it’s a ‘no’

black flower fragrance

villain ~ “you can always rewrite the story”

israel ~ “angel of song”

water ~ cleansing

significant numbers:

8, 38, 16, 16, 38

look up the angel number 1616. the first explanation that you find is the message for you.

whatever sounds like a good idea or a good offer that has been presented to you? - not a good idea. it comes with a lot of costs and i feel like it’ll leave you trapped in something that you can’t get out of. you need to take some time to actually think this through and figure out how to reject this offer, because i feel like you know that whatever this temptation is (whether it’s a person or a thing) is not for you. this thing or person will leave you isolated, emotionally cut off from the rest of the world, and dissociated.

you also may be procrastinating on a lot of things because you’re constantly feeding into something that detaches you from your problems, but it’s costing you a lot of valuable time and energy. i feel like this could be 🍃 (if ygm 👀 if this is the case, i feel you 😂😭) but no matter how 420 friendly we are, there needs to be some structure and discipline in our lives. even if that means setting an hour or two a day where we’re completely sober and try to focus on the things that we need to do.

also, don’t be afraid to be the villain in someone else’s story. you’re their villain because of your lack of fear when speaking the truth about them. you saw what you needed to see intuitively when you were around them, and you’ve just moved forward with your life peacefully to focus on yourself. and they’re mad about that. let them be. why’s that your problem? you need to listen to yourself a lot more. you’ve built a great connection with yourself and you need to protect this. listen to your intuition when it tells you things.

also, drink more water. and do this as a cleansing ritual. every-time that you drink water, visualise your entire body and energy being cleansed. water is naturally cleansing, and it’ll help you to not feel so fatigued. you might feel like you’re having to self-contain a lot. use water - whether that’s through drinking, showering, bathing, swimming, walking in the rain - to help your energy to flow a lot more. if you’re feeling lethargic, you’re dehydrated. drink water. your kidneys and liver will thank you. especially if you’re smoking that 🍃.

if there’s someone who is trying to cling onto you and/or control you, don’t let them. it’s okay to protect yourself from them. they’re preventing your growth by doing this, and they could be trying to vilify you because you’re putting up boundaries. maintain these boundaries and don’t be afraid to shut down any lies that they’re telling about you. this could be a controlling family member who sees you as a possession more than a person.

your intuition is trying to tell you something that you know is a fact, but you don’t want to accept it. accepting this intuitive message might make you feel like a bad person - but you know that what you know is true. your intuition is literally on fire and, again, you need to listen.

you could also be experiencing shame regarding your sexuality or your body, and this shame could be having a lot of control over you. this stems from societal standards or teachings from parents (the father specifically), but these are extremely harmful. you need to find a way to drown out the noise of standards set by other people and discover your own opinions on these matters to follow. instead of other’s.

if you’d like a private reading, then please check out my pinned post 💞🤍

• pile three •

cards:

page of wands

king of swords

king of cups

9 of cups

3 of wands

significant numbers:

1, 2, 6, 23, 35

you need to face the truth about someone who has either harmed you already, or would have no problem with harming you. this person could be showing controlling tendencies and you already know where this connection would lead to if it was to continue. there’s a lot of passion in this connection, but not much else. and if you used your third-eye/intuition, then you’d actually feel pretty vengeful towards this person after realising how they view you and what they’re planning for you. you’re disrespecting yourself and undervaluing yourself by continuing to be available for this person. if they provide substances of any sort for you whenever you see them - whether that’s alcohol or something else - then they’re trying to use this to distort your view of them and keep you unassuming of their intentions while you’re in a dissociated state. you may have been around this person for a while, but you need to consider what life would be like after this person. because with this revenge card, your guides are already working on defending you from this person. they’re not letting you get caught up in this. you can either choose to expand your mind beyond this person, and more towards yourself, or you can continue to ignore the truth of the situation. either way, your ancestors are coming through and putting an end to it. this is a harsh message, but it’s a truth that you need to hear. this person is not for you.

your anger is valid and should be felt. you can’t move on from a situation if you’re lying to yourself and other people about not being angry and upset when you actually are.

^^ if you’ve been thinking about putting some baneful magick onto someone, then your guides are giving you the green light.

someone could be trying to control what you wear and how you dress. don’t let them. you need to see that this is not normal and not just a part of a relationship.

a lot of you are feeling vengeful towards a past lover that you’ve moved on from. your guides are advising you to move into a more peaceful state of mind by focusing on working on yourself. you can use this anger for great self-development. contemplating petty revenge is a waste of time. your revenge will be choosing yourself over this person. don’t let your anger be bottled up or go to waste.

you could be having to decide between two people (two masculines) in your dating life. you need to be honest with yourself about who you’d find more peace and happiness with. one of them may be extremely attractive physically, but their personality might be very curt, very cold and distant for the sake of being logical and rational. whereas the other is a lot more emotionally warm, caring, and loving but you may not be physically attracted to them as much as the other. you need to focus on the one that makes you feel more at peace and comfortable in their energy.

if you’d like a private reading, then please check out my pinned post 💞🤍

• pile four •

cards:

inner child

autumn is my last chance - “please don’t lose hope”

relinquish control

the temple of my body

sun - “paint the sun back into your sky”

leleil - “angel of night”

high priestess/high priest

significant numbers:

16, 6, 27, 2, 11

your inner child doesn’t want you to completely disconnect from them. they’re expressed the most through some type of creative hobby and it seems like you’re not participating in this as much anymore. try getting in touch with them again - this could simply be through visualisation - and have a conversation.

you also need to take back your power in some way. particularly through your own body. something - or someone - has a hold over your body and you need to recognise that you’re the only one who has the right to dictate what happens to it, how it’s dressed, etc.

a dark night of the soul could be taking place right now, and it’s due to some type of internal conflict that’s occurring. you’re stuck in a phase of rumination about yourself, who you are, what you’re supposed to be doing, and it seems like you feel as though you don’t know who you are. the reason for this is your ego is being stripped away from you - as you know it. who you think you are as a person isn’t who you are beneath all of your conditionings, and you currently have the responsibility of finding your own self-governance and forming an ego of your own. that actually makes you happy. this is how you’re going to create your own happiness again. get back in touch with your inner child.

you also need to protect your body a lot more. sexually. you could experience a lot of people trying to sleep with you and you need to vet them thoroughly before sharing your energy with them. you don’t need to keep yourself contained and restricted from sex at all, but you need to find more responsibility when it comes to showing more respect to your body - sexually and non-sexually. and not in a way that’s rooted in purity culture and bs like that. you can sleep with 10 different people who meet your standards, and that would be respecting your body. sleeping with 2 people and having no standards for them is doing the complete opposite of what’s respectful to yourself. this “relinquish control” could be about finding more control over yourself sexually, and digging deep into why you make decisions that you won’t be proud of after the fact.

also, your intuition sends you messages through whatever you create.

i’m not seeing anymore messages for you, pile four. you’re my short pile today 💞

if you’d like a private reading, then please check out my pinned post 🤍

#pick a card #psychic readings #pick a photo #pac #tarot reading #divination #tarot #pick a picture #pac reading #tarot cards

[zooophagous]

What is one meal you could have one last time and never be allowed to eat ever again but it was totally worth it because it's amazing?

There was this one time, the first time I ever visited my favorite hiking spot as luck would have it- that I discovered a feral grapevine.

Grapevine grows all over random parts of this nature preserve. It's invasive and gets everywhere and it's sort of a pain in the ass and the stupid things don't even produce fruit reliably.

Except that day, it did. It produced exactly one grape. One MASSIVE grape, like three times the size of any grape I'd ever seen before or since. Larger than even the ridiculous giant cultivated rare breeds I sometimes see in Costco.

It was so big I wasn't sure it WAS a grape.

But, being the fool I am, I decided I was gonna taste it. And wouldn't you know it, that was the single tastiest piece of fruit I've ever had in my entire life. It was so perfectly sweet and juicy and it ran down my chin and it was cool in the middle with perfectly crisp skin and I had some sort of spiritual experience with this singular perfect grape.

The vine has NEVER produced another like it. I visit the area often and there has never been another grape growing there at all. It's been years.

I want that fucking grape, man. I want it.

[miss-celestia13]

The Ending You Deserve

Jake x MC - Duskwood One Shot

I wanted to practice angst and creating suspense. This happened. It has a touch of humor, a hint of fluff, and other things! Sassy MC. No smut for a change. It feels weird 🤭

Can Jake run from death and make it to MC?

Or will his demons win the race?

MC isn't named or described as it was more for the emotions. It's all from Jake’s POV.

Pain. 

Aching. Cold. Hot. Burning, burning, burning. It rolled through him in waves.

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t see.

Dread wove through his internal organs and strangled him from the inside like an invasive vine had taken root in the core of himself.

Smoke and ash choked his airways as he stumbled and tripped through the mine.

His heart rattled savagely against his ribs.

It felt like a creature in its death throes, trying to break out of his chest.

His foot collided with a jagged, jutting rock and he went down like a house of cards. Crumpled and folded as he rolled and rolled.

Hissing as tiny sharp stones cut into his face and hands.

Ash ridden sweat trickled down his face and stung the many small slices leaking blood as he lay on his back panting and cursing himself as the ominous orange glow of raging flame inched along the underground tunnel.

The air grew thinner and thinner.

The smoke grew thicker and thicker. 

The gasoline fueled fire was a monster bearing down on him and he scrambled to his trembling feet. Taking off at a staggering jog, one hand braced on the rough, dirty wall.

A pinprick of light opened up far ahead and a jolt of adrenaline surged through his bloodstream. He hurried, panting and terrified, breathing too shallowly as the rising heat nipped at his neck.

He knew he had a choice to make.

It was death by fire or FBI.

Neither option appealed to him, but as he looked back and saw the swirling, furious flames licking nearer and nearer. He knew he had to decide.

It wasn’t fair.

He wasn’t innocent or free from any wrongdoing. But he didn’t deserve to die like an animal, run over and left bleeding out and twitching on the side of the road until he grew cold and stiff. 

No one would miss him.

No one would look for him.

He was all alone. It was a surety. He was always, always alone.

That’s not true though, is it, Jake?

It hasn’t been for a while now.

The voice in his head made his breath catch, and his heart pounded painfully in his throat.

It felt as though someone had reached inside his chest, broken through his flesh, muscle and grasped his bones to pry them apart, an invisible fist that gripped his pulsing heart and shoved it in his mouth. Forcing him to swallow it.

It beat there like a Wardrum. Marching him to his death. 

It throbbed and choked and filled his mouth with copper. He couldn’t stand it. The pain was corrosive as it ate through his nerves and left them exposed to the heat and acrid taint of smoke.

She is waiting for you. Don’t let her down.

You PROMISED.

A soul deep sigh huffed through his nose as his feet sped up, pebbles and broken glass crunched under his boots as he raced toward the gradually growing dot of light.

The roaring fire and echo of his escape bounced off the stone and haunted him as he ran for his life.

Four years of running.

Four years of searching and shame and seclusion. Running had been his gift. His lifeline. 

Yet he felt wholly unprepared for this last sprint.

He was tiring.

Steps shortening faster than his scalding breath as black smoke slithered overhead and wrapped its insidious tentacles around his body.

He would not make it.

He would not see her after all.

The thought felt like a poisoned blade sinking into his chest. He could feel the barbs of it twisting and cutting through sinew.

He would soon bleed out without a sound.

The fight left him as the intangible knife punctured his hope and foolish dream of having a love he didn’t deserve.

They’d been writing their own story, filling the pages with dreams and fragile, flourishing love.

He felt like coming here was akin to him tearing out those pages and ripping them up.

It broke him so completely he almost stopped and let the flames embrace him.

He could already smell the sickly sweet and pungent scent of his blistering flesh. Like tanning leather over a flame.

He was going to burn.

It would hurt more than he already did.

It would roast through his flesh, flay it from his bones and incinerate muscle and blood to dust.

He could already feel it.

Creeping closer, singing the hair on his nape, and filling his nose with the cloying scent of dangerous smoke.

No one would know it was him.

Nothing would remain for her except blackened bones and the memory that he had gone to the mine instead of her.

She would blame herself for this.

It would destroy her.

And it was all his doing.

No.

Never.

He wouldn’t be a cause of her pain anymore than he already had.

A burst of fresh speed and determination glittered through him as the fire drew so near he could feel the flames whispering in his ear.

Too slow, Jake. It’s too late.

You can’t run away from this.

Your luck has faded.

He forced it aside and sobbed through his clenched teeth as the dot of light swelled and came toward him.

His legs were heavy. Growing weightier with every leap over fallen support beams and shattered rock.

His rabbit heart raced faster and faster. It deafened him to the groaning, popping wood as the fire devoured it.

Tears streaked through the soot and blood on his face. Leaving pale tracks through the grime and coating his chapped lips with brine.

His vision blurred as his emotions broke free of the locked and coded vault he’d stuffed in the back of his hive mind to come here.

He attempted to shove them back in.

It didn’t work.

They spilled out and utterly overwhelmed him.

He’d spent years locking them down. Beating them into submission, so they listened to him and not him to them. The steel and stone fortress he erected around himself had already crumbled for her and there was nowhere left to hide.

He’d given her everything he had, and it wouldn’t be enough.

You always knew you weren’t enough. Let’s not think too highly of ourselves.

She deserves better than this.

Better than you.

That is a truth you will never escape.

His heart fractured as his mind fought against him and his flagging spirit frayed further.

She deserved better than this.

He was failing her. Had failed her since he let her in.

He’d always known he’d cause her future hurt.

He just hadn’t expected it would come so soon. That he wouldn’t get to watch from afar as she healed from his vanishing.

They had always lived on borrowed time.

And now, the fire was so close sweat slid like rivers down his back and legs, eating away at his nerves as they flared wildly under his soaking skin.

Jake knew it was futile. The ball of light in his vision seemed to run away from him as his eyes blurred and cleared repeatedly. His hands curled into two tight fists and he fought the urge to punch the wall in fury.

He bit down on the inside of his cheek instead. Biting down hard until the skin gave and blood welled over the tattered edge, glazing his tongue with the buttery, metallic taste of it.

It acted like a stimulant.

His eyes focused and his heart pounded fiercely as he ran and ran and ran.

Feet pounded stone as fire blazed through the mine. He had to outrun it.

He would outrun in it.

There was no other option as his blood pressure skyrocketed and his breath became harsh, shallow.

The fire sucked away the air before it could go in as he tried to gulp it down.

There was no oxygen.

His insides kept writhing and twisting.

They knotted up and up so tightly he swore felt something tear. Something that made him cry out as the air was crushed from him.

He could see shadows in his periphery. Specks of darkness and sparks of light as his lungs ached and screamed for oxygen. For rest.

Resting meant dying.

Dying meant failing her.

Failing her was never an option before.

It couldn’t be one now.

He put his head down and ran.

He jumped over another wooden beam as the light ahead broadened and he landed atop aged wooden boards.

He only had time to scream as they broke under his weight and their age.

Jake fell. And fell and fell.

He screwed his eyes shut before he hit the ground.

The impact was so brutal, he almost wished it had killed him.

He hit the ground with a resounding whack.

His head cracked off the stone. Pain, blinding and bleeding, radiated through his skull and brain, frying his rationality completely and leaving room for fear to consume him wholly.

Warmth seeped across his scalp and his hand came away, stained in crimson when he reached to feel the damage. 

Head wounds bled worse than they were and the gash didn’t feel too bad once the stinging pain subsided a little. He internally surveyed the rest of himself. Finding nothing broken despite his ribs feeling as though a giant had stomped him flat.

Dirt and blood coated his teeth as he wheezed and coughed. Choking and spluttering as he tried to get a handle on himself.

He’d bitten through his lip, and it bled like a bitch.

Something was stabbing into his shoulder. 

As he stared up at the hole he fell through, a sensation like a thousand razor blades slicing down his skin moved down his spine, coiling in his lower back. It swirled there, a ball of cutting, primal fright that soon bled through the rest of him.

A rickety ladder leading up and out offered a small ray of hope.

He clung to it and calculated how long it would take to climb in his current condition. 

Fire scoured over the opening and left no place for him to escape.

His hope died with a breathless whimper.

He barely even heard it as agony rippled through his bones and he rolled onto his knees, panting.

“Fuck!” He spat. The word was more like a vicious curse as it rebounded off the mine walls and into his ears.

Mocking him as he squinted into the darkness and tried to figure out what to do next.

The fire would keep the police and FBI away from the mine until it burnt out. They wouldn’t rush in until it was safe enough. He knew that.

He could use that.

Jake kneeled on the filthy ground and schemed.

The temperature rose and rose as he shuffled through his thoughts.

He neatly ordered and arranged everything, thinking of his brain like a filing cabinet.

He could slide one drawer open and find a treasure trove of data and memories.

Some would get stuck as he tugged at them. Rusty and dusty, hardly ever opened for fear it would cut off his ability to feel nothing.

He pulled at one that had eroded so much he had to kick it and smash it to smithereens to pull the files out.

It was like opening Pandora’s box and expecting sunshine to pour forth. 

A veritable flood of emotion, memory, and agony spilled free of the mental drawer and absolutely annihilated his hold on himself.

He’d forgotten what it was like to feel everything so fully.

Everything of the last few years had felt like he was competing against time itself. And time was humanity’s greatest enemy. There was never enough of it and it actively fought back when you tried to beat it.

It was a losing game and in order to keep playing, he’d become a ghost.

He muted everything that made him human in order to survive.

Calculated.

Clinical.

Cold.

Jake was all of that.

Now, he felt everything.

He wanted to survive. He wanted to live.

Lingering as a phantom on the periphery of reality no longer appealed to him. He wanted to feel and touch and be. He wanted everything life had to give.

The bitter and the sweet. The hurt and the relief. All of it.

Jake just wanted.

And when Jake wanted something, he got it.

He pushed up on his hands. Curling his fingers into the gravelly dirt and ignoring the bark of pain as his nails cracked and split.

His blood mingled with the muck, and he clambered to his feet.

Everything ached and bled and felt so heavy he could barely put one foot in front of the other as he carefully headed down the tunnel he’d dropped into.

His throat was raw. Torn to shreds from smoke and screaming. His hands quaked and his mouth was so dry his tongue curdled in his mouth as he smacked his lips together and tried to create some lubrication.

It was useless. He needed water.

He needed to rest soon, or he would pass out in sheer fright and exhaustion.

It’s too late, Jake.

Give up.

Only fools persist in fighting when the odds are stacked.

Jake’s head throbbed as he thrashed it, as if to dispel the sinister crooning, and muttered, “The odds are always stacked. It’s how you play the system.”

The voice went quiet again, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he tripped over rock and wood, hands scrabbling at the walls to ensure he wouldn’t get himself lost.

He risked taking his phone out of his pocket, scowling at the shattered screen as message after message came through.

MC: Jake. You can’t just tell a woman you love her and then ignore her!

Answer me.

Please.

Just give me a sign. A smoke signal. Send a damn carrier pigeon if you have to! They’re saying there’s no way in or out. But I know better. You’ll find a way. 

Keep going. Please don’t give up. You’re not alone in this. I won’t allow it.

If you die, I will hunt you down, drag you back and kill you again. You must live, Jake. Not for me, not for Hannah or Lilly, but for you. You will make it back to me.

He swiped them away. Deleting them. They made his heart shiver and fracture more. The rubious fissures would leave silver scars behind. He groaned as another came through and he immediately memorized the coordinates she gave him. Deleting the message once he had. He put all his remaining energy and will into planning his escape.

His mind wheeled with memories from before.  Prior to being forced into hiding, he had experienced a life of color and fluctuating joy. It wasn’t a perfect life, but it was his. The day he had to leave it all behind, he’d severed all strands of his old life and assumed the identity of many and none. 

He’d learned a lot about humanity and its cruelty in that time. He knew how it worked.

Life was a battle against human cruelty. It always was and always would be. Wisdom, strategy, and hope were the only factors that could hope to gain over cruelty.

And his hope lived on. 

Hope, he understood it lived with her now. He’d given her it and she had offered him her own. He would not waste it.

He flicked through his brain and memories, shelving what didn’t matter and keeping what did. Everything that made him ache, he kept. Everything that made him feel safe, he lost.

If safety meant being alone, lost in a mine until he either burned or starved to death, he didn’t want it.

He reached into the mental vault containing their chats. 

Their conversation about her coming here was the most potent file he had, and it would fuel him to make it out.

She had complimented his research on the mine and he’d told her about some entrances/exits.

He informed her of the ones he thought were most likely to get him caught. It was a manipulative decision, so she wouldn’t get the stupid idea of following him.

He kept one exit loaded like a bullet in the back of his mind.

It was risky.

It was idiotic. 

Still, Jake took off running for it. 

The tunnel was narrowing as he traveled along it. He had to duck before long.

His heart still frothed behind his sternum. Relentless and out of time, with his sawing breath as the walls closed in on him.

He had to crouch now. His head scuffed off the rugged ceiling and he bit back a shout as the pain merged with that of the wound still leaking blood on the back of his skull.

He felt drained. His body became so weighty, he was grateful when the tightening passage forced him to his hands and knees.

Jake crawled and crawled. Palms scraped and searing as sweat irritated all his grazes. His eyes prickled with fresh tears as a draught of fresh air snaked into his nose.

Dread rose to swallow him, but he kept going. He didn’t know what awaited him on the other side, but it was better than dying alone, never to be mourned or found.

The fear of being arrested was so strong it almost halted him as he squeezed through the ever shrinking tunnel and felt like he was caught in a vice.

If he got stuck—No, he couldn’t think it.

He had to turn his fear into a weapon. Run from this place and reclaim his name. The sweat on his brow, the blood running through his veins; it was that of a survivor.

This was just another glitch.

He told himself that over and over as he army crawled through the crushing mine.

He was blind.

The darkness entrenched him.

It would entomb him if he allowed it.

His coat snagged on the rough wall and dragged him back. He shook his sore body as much as the tight space would allow and panted through his clenched teeth.

It kept sticking. He had stretched his hands ahead of him.

There was no room or way for him to tug the fabric free.

His heart stopped dead in his chest.

Helplessness stole his flagging fight, and he slumped into the dirt, hiding his filthy face in it.

Abruptly, Jake started sobbing like a child. Great, gasping cries tore from him and his entire body shuddered with it. So violent and soul destroying he couldn’t temper it.

No matter what he did, it went against him. He’d never worked with such horrendous odds. His brain was a mess of emotion and regret.

He wished he’d written everything he felt and hoped for them down and mailed the letter to her before he entered the mine, but he’d been cocky then. Too confident in his ability to escape any trap or cage.

Jake gave up and accepted his fate.

If he died, if that was his due, there was no stopping it. He’d been living off begged and borrowed and stolen time for years.

It had finally caught up to him.

He was so lost in defeat. Consumed by it. His throat contracted, and he felt like he might be sick.

He hoped he choked on it.

Make it quick.

“I don’t want to die,” He whispered without meaning to and his mouth kept moving, the words kept falling from his bloodstained lips, “Not like this, anything but this.”

His heart shriveled and went cold as he struggled and tried to shuffle forward. He couldn’t breathe properly. All his weight was on his front. His ribs felt bruised and cracked, every tiny inhale felt like a sledgehammer blow.

It is over, Jake. Feel that? The cold creeping in? Soon, it’s all you’ll know. This darkness? It’s all there is. All there ever will be. It’s what you –

“-- I don’t deserve this.” Jake growled with a certainty he’d never known.

Adrenaline coursed through him, lighting up his veins and filling him with new trembling energy as if someone had injected him with a drug.

He rocked and shook his body until his bones jolted and his skin felt too tight. He forced what little breath he had out through gritted teeth and felt the tendons in his neck straining as he dug his fingers into the dirt and put all his strength into pulling himself free.

The sound of fabric ripping caused his heart to start beating again.

He gave a laugh like shattering glass.

Unhinged and desperate as the momentum of his coat coming free shoved him forward a few feet.

From there, it wasn’t easy. He felt like a clumsy serpent as he slithered through the mine.

He kept laughing. His heart kept pounding.

The voice in his head was silent as his hands connected with something that fell away as he shoved at it.

Glorious, clean night air hit his sweaty face, and he gulped it down as he pulled himself out of the horrible tunnel.

It seemed to cling to him. Like invisible hands tugged on his ankles to keep him trapped. He refused to allow it.

Damp earth, long green grass, and dried leaves crunched under his hands as he lay on his back on the forest floor and stared at the starry sky.

He considered the spectacle of stars as the greatest gift he could have received. He analyzed it, finding the North star and thinking of the co-ordinates MC had given him. He quickly checked them on his phone before he threw it away, and was relieved when he discovered it wasn’t too far to make it there on foot.

If he headed in a North- Easterly direction, he could make it there at sunrise.

He didn’t bother looking toward Duskwood, didn’t need to know how close his pursuers might be or he’d lose his nerve.

He shakily got to his feet and started walking.

Time meant nothing to him as he traipsed through forest and open fields. He stayed away from the roads he knew were always busy.

In his current condition, some good samaritan would call for help thinking they were aiding him when in fact they’d be signing his death.

He was so tired. It clung to him like a shroud of smothering fog he would never break out of.

He kept moving. 

Through shadow and moonlight, he kept walking and ignored the pain in his body as best he could. 

There was no end to his exhaustion as pink tinged sunlight shimmered through the pines.

The sun was rising.

How strange, he thought, that his world could burn down around him and yet the sun still rose.

He eyed it and felt strange, like it was an abstract painting absolutely out of place in this world of cruelty, death, and flame.

No matter how deeply or irrevocably the world burned. No matter how thick the shadows grew and the amount the freezing darkness consumed, the sun would always rise.

It filled the world with light, warmth, and color and precious hope.

He felt the soft warmth kiss his hurting face, and it energized him as he broke out of the cover of trees and came to a halt in a motel parking lot.

Jake frowned, glancing around in suspicion and doubt as he failed to understand. Why would she send him here? He hadn’t stayed here. It was too out of the way.

And just how did she know of it?

He stood straight and fear thickened in his throat as his attention snagged on a window. The curtains had moved. He was sure of it.

He moved as though to sink back amongst the trees, but the creak of a door opening made his head snap toward it.

A small, slender hand poked through the gap in the door, beckoning him. He was moving toward it before he could give his feet the command.

His heart picked up speed again. His pulse and distress ratcheting up and infusing him with tension like someone was turning a screw too tightly.

He was only a few steps away from the door now. His skin felt too sensitive and everything hurt in some way. His throat felt like he’d been eating sandpaper and gravel.

The shake in his hands intensified, flight or fight. His nervous system couldn’t decide.

As he hesitated, a female voice trailed through the open door and it was like a salve on his exposed nerves. He had heard that voice, he could recognize it anywhere.

His heart raced for an entirely different reason as he listened to it.

“It’s safe. Come in and I’ll explain.”

Jake didn’t care about her explanation as the adrenaline left him so suddenly he drooped and nearly dropped to his knees.

He tripped through the door instead.

She didn’t give him time to rake his gaze over her the way he wanted to. She gripped him and forcefully dragged him into an embrace, causing him to groan in pain as it aggravated his many minor injuries.

She instantly pulled back, grimacing and apologetic.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. Here, I have supplies. I figured one of us would get shot or stabbed or maimed. It felt important to be prepared. Thankfully, the worst injury I’ve had is paper cuts. You don’t look like you’ve been so lucky. Are you bleeding anywhere? What do I do first? Are you burnt? You smell like someone roasted you over a spit! Are yo-”

Jake chuckled roughly at her babbling. Touched and amused by her care and thoughtfulness.

It was the first genuine laugh he’d had in years, and it turned into a cackle before long. It just slipped out of him and sounded more like crying by the end.

His gritty eyes closed as emotion swallowed him and he welcomed the darkness they offered.

It was familiar.

It was safe.

He woke hours later very confused and so stiff it felt like he was breaking his bones to sit up. His grunt of pain escaped his teeth as a lilting voice cut through the static in his mind.

“Oh, good. I was worrying. That’s nothing new, but you look like someone just dug you out of your grave. I cleaned and patched you up as best I could without stripping you. I thought I’d let you buy me dinner before we got to that stage!”

Her tone was light and filled with humor, but there was an edge of despair and anxiety in it that told him she’d fussed over him the entire time he slept.

His sluggish heart resided in his empty stomach as she approached him slowly like she thought he was an injured animal and she was afraid to spook him.

“Where are we? Why are you here? You promised to stay away.” He managed as he accepted the glass of water she offered him.

His fingers left dirty streaks on the glass as the dirt mingled with the condensation. The water was cold and crystal clear and he gulped it down to clear the sour taste out of his mouth.

She huffed at his words and waited for him to sink the water before she responded, “Typical. I come and help you and you scold me. Well, shove it.  If it weren’t for me and Alan, you would be dead or rotting in a cell. And I did stay away! I didn't go to the mine, did I?” 

His gaze flew to her indignant face, lovely and open despite the fury razing hell in her narrowed eyes.

He felt shocked that he could speak because his tongue felt so thick in his mouth. “My apologies. I’m still—I’m sorry... Alan? I thought he would be more interested in helping them catch me?”

She smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she sat down beside him.

“That was until I ripped him a new one. The fire helped most, but Alan is currently playing down your involvement to give us time. He’ll make contact with us once we find a safe place to stay.”

He opened his mouth to demand she go back home, and he’d message once he was safe, but she flung up a hand to silence him.

“None of that. I’ll explain better once we know the scope of the fallout in Duskwood. But I am coming with you. No, if ands or buts about it, Jake. I make my decisions, not you. The last time someone tried to decide for me, I bit them. Don’t make me bite you too. Are you in?”

Her eyes were hard and unwavering, not a sliver of doubt to be found.

Everything inside him protested against dragging her into his mess, but he was tired.

He was tired of being alone.

He was so tired of losing everything.

Four years of fatigue and depression sank through him like a millstone and he hung his head in defeat. He was in no condition to run alone, anyway.

And he didn't want to. It was selfish. It was daft. But he didn't care.

He hadn't expected to survive this long. Plus, she had been his reason to make it out. He sighed and let his shoulders curl inward. Having someone else to protect would keep him sharp and ready for anything. She must've sensed his resolve weakening. 

She reached out and threaded her clean fingers through his muddy ones, dark and light; he thought stupidly as his skin tingled at the contact.

It had been so long since he’d been touched gently. With obvious affection and because someone wanted to, not because they had to. 

He was used to bruises and hurt. This was — this was what he'd survived for. 

He’d forgotten what it felt like as he met her gaze and felt his stomach fluttering with something that felt like excitement.

It felt like hundreds of tiny birds had taken flight in his abdomen and a frisson of tentative anticipation filtered through him. 

Her eyes glittered and his mouth twitched with the want to smile as he gave his response.

“I’m in.”

—————————

Thank you for reading. I hope it was worth your time despite this being done so many times before me. Oh, and if you leave a comment or reblog, thank you. It is appreciated ❤️

#duskwood fanfic #one shot #duskwood oneshot #jake x mc #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #angst with a happy ending #hopeful ending #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood game #duskwood everbyte #duskwood fandom #duskwood #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #duskwood alan #duskwood hannah #everbyte game #everbyte studios #moonvale #angst and feels #cross posted on ao3 #writing #my writing #slight fluff #duskwood episode 10 #duskwood hacker #moonvale everbyte #duskwood lilly

[embarrassedanon]

The Model Patient

Eddie's friend Tony assured him that being a model patient was an easy and painless way to make a few extra bucks on the weekend.

Tony had been given an index card with of symptoms to memorize and assigned a handful of medical students who clamored to be first to diagnose him. Sounded easy enough.

When Eddie pulled up to the medical school that Saturday morning and saw his index card his heart sank. The card's directive was simple yet humiliating.

patient seeks treatment for persistent painful rash on gluteal epidermis

Surely this was some sort of joke Eddie thought. Tony only had to pretend to have the flu, but he had some crazy butt rash. He was going to have to spend the whole talking about a butt rash with these medical students...

Before he could contemplate any further, the director of the model patient program barged into the room looking down at his clipboard.

"What are you doing still dressed?" the disheveled director said barely even looking up at Eddie. "Come on, strip down completely and put on the gown."

"Completely? No one said anything about being naked."

"The students need to grow accustom interacting patients as they'll actually be in real life. If you're going to be a problem can you just go, I've got like a million things to do."

As quick as he arrived the director was gone and Eddie found himself standing in the cold room in nothing but a paper thin gown.

The next 90 minutes were perhaps some of the most embarrassing of Eddie's young life. A revolving door of young, bookish, nerdy, wannabe dermatologists, the types of guys Eddie teased in school came and poked and prodded his exposed backside.

The line between fact and fiction quickly blurred as the simple index card diagnosis gave Eddie no answers for the med students exhaustive questions about his condition.

Not much of an improviser, Eddie was answering honestly engaging with questions about how sweaty his butt got, his habits of shaving his butt cheeks, and what type of underwear he wore. These doctors were intent on finding the cause of his phantom rash.

The invasive questions were nothing compared to the physical exams. Latex gloves did little to insulate cold hands. The students massaged, squeezed, and in one case even parted his cheeks, hoping to get full points for successfully completing a thorough exam. The embarrassment was physically painful for Eddie.

Worse were the students attempting to make him feel comfortable and break the ice. He cringed and broke out into a full body blush as he heard "well I don't have to ask about your exercise habits, it's clear your squatting?" or "No wonder you came in to see about this rash, it's totally cramping your style as you show off that thing."

When the final student finished up, Eddie quickly got dressed, anxious to get home and shower off the embarrassment of the whole ordeal. He entered the lobby where all the students were gather comparing notes from their respective exams. They all looked up at him and sheepishly smiled.

The way they looked at him made him totally naked again. He collected his envelope of cash, feeling cheap and used. He headed to the exit, the future doctors lingering stares on his ass felt hot enough to burn through the seat of his pants. Unbeknownst to Eddie the stress of this ordeal was already forming the faintest hives, exactly where he least wanted them.

It wouldn't be long before his cheeks were getting examined for real.

#full moon #enm #text post #medical #my writing

[dreamofmetoday]

ASTRO BASICS #1: HARD MOON SIGNS AND HARD CHILDHOODS

tw: mentions of abuse

this post is focused on the common negative manifestations of the harder moon signs to help understand them better.

the moon represents your mother, childhood and occasionally older sisters or grandmothers. the moon is fallen in scorpio and in detriment in capricorn. these are factually the worst moon signs and are associated with a difficult upbringing. other difficult moon signs are: aries, gemini and libra. notable mentions: sagittarius, pisces. moon signs are both perception and reality.

COMMON CHILDHOOD MANIFESTATIONS

moon in scorpio (fall)

theme: emotional suffering

being an only child, outright abusive mother, the mother is being abused, the mother is unable to cope with a loss (and is therefore not able to nurture the child without interference of her own pain), the native is sent to boarding school/overseas homestay, an older sibling (sister) is unwell (and the mother is forced to focus on her and not the native), the native becomes overly sensitive to guilt tripping, the child witnesses the mother often emotionally manipulate others or knows she keeps many secrets.

moon in capricorn (detriment)

theme: restriction

being the eldest child, extreme strictness that allows no freedom, the mother forces the native to maintain a certain weight, the native is forced to overwork in some way (exercise, study, chores), the mother is invasive of the child’s privacy, since the mother is tense and unapproachable it means emotions are frowned upon - the vibe of, ‘stop crying or i’ll give you something to cry about’, the child witnesses the mother being strict on herself and the other parent often.

moon in aries

theme: forced independence

only or eldest child, the mother is absent or the native is left on their own often, the mother is always working, the native doesn’t see their mother and lives with a grandparent or another relative, the native had to do things on their own very young (walk to school, make dinner or school lunch, clean etc.), a strict household which causes the native to make their own decisions secretly, the native often feels they aren’t rewarded unless they really fight for it, the native often witnesses the mother treat others very aggressively, the child works to earn money from a young age, the native is sent to boarding school/overseas homestay. (think of matilda from matilda)

moon in gemini

theme: emotional neglect

having a young mother or alternatively being the youngest child, emotionally distracted mother, the mother is more of a friend than parent (this can also manifest as having a sister who is a lot older), the mother has lots of friends and is really social at the expense of the child, the native has a lot siblings or family that get more attention, the mother is lax but distant and forgetful so the native is left to their own devices, the native often gets confusing and conflicting messages from the mother causing a confusing and conflicted image of the mother. (think kevin from home alone).

moon in libra

theme: repression

image and family honour is considered extremely important, ‘putting on a good show’ is considered extremely important, the native is expected to adhere to certain beauty standards and maintain a certain weight, there is an overemphasis on manners at the expense of the native’s emotions, the mother is aggressive but aggression back is heavily punished (the native gets used to the mother taking things personally in general), the native is taught that finding a partner is important or grows up watching the mother focus on this a lot, the native often witnesses the mother backstabbing or gossiping about others.

moon in sagittarius and pisces is also somewhat often associated with difficult childhoods and can have some common negative manifestations, though these moon signs would not overall be considered negative.

for moon in sagittarius, since the mother is often associated with still being concerned with her own freedom, she can be a woman that is focused more on travelling, socialising or dating than on the child which creates distance that can be hard to heal. sometimes it’s associated with the mother being closer to another sibling which encourages the native to search for ‘greener grass’ elsewhere (both of these examples often result in the native moving far away from home or wishing to). for moon in pisces, this is considered a chaotic energy in which the (emotional) turbulence of the mother often upsets the native’s day to day living circumstances which can be taken highly personally by the native.

#astrology #astro basics #melody astrology #moon in the signs #moon signs #aries moon #moon in aries #libra moon #moon in libra #scorpio moon #moon in scorpio #gemini moon #moon in gemini #sagittarius moon #moon in sagittarius #capricorn moon #moon in capricorn #pisces moon #moon in pisces #astrology and childhood #astro observations

[abirddogmoment]

A lot about Mav's decline and a little about how it makes me look at Rory.

I didn't talk about it very much here, but Mav was really subtle in his signs of pain when he was declining from his spine injury. Some of the things that tipped me off were changes to his gait, lower tailset, slower movement, reluctance/slowness getting on or off furniture, and needing extra cuddling. These things could easily be brushed off as him being tired or him being disinterested, and it really made me doubt what I was seeing.

I was sure Mav had something really wrong with him, but it was so hard to convince the vet of that. She said things like "are you sure you didn't just train him not to jump on the furniture?" and "sometimes dogs slow down as they age", meaning well but ultimately making things a lot harder for me. This, coupled with Mav's happiness at the vet and overall stoic personality, gaslit me into thinking I was imagining things. I googled things like "munchausen by proxy symptoms" because I needed to know if I was the real problem.

When Mav went for his OFA hips and elbow rads, I had them take spine rads as well, hoping it would answer my question and help find out what was wrong with him. When his rads came back normal, I cried. It was partly in relief that it wasn't something structural, but also partly desperation that I couldn't prove something was wrong.

I pushed my vet to refer Mav for a neuro consult. It took four months to get her to agree and then for the neuro clinic to schedule Mav in. In that time, I started tracking his decline with a special quality of life chart I made specifically for him. It showed a degeneration of his QOL, but I still thought maybe I was dramatizing things and imagining it.

When Mav went for his neuro consult, they took him back for tests for ten minutes, then came back and solemnly told me they were certain his problem was neurological. They then asked me if they could take him back and let their vet students do the (non-invasive) tests on him for practice because he was such a happy dog. Of course I said yes.

They told me he wasn't a good candidate for surgery. I could do an MRI, but it would be expensive and wouldn't add much besides a formal diagnosis. They recommended palliative care.

I sobbed while driving home. Part of it was relief that I finally knew I wasn't imagining things. Most of it was heartbreak.

I scrutinized Mav's final decline because I couldn't let him suffer. I had hard lines ("when he can't run" and "when the painkillers stop working") and he reached those, but he was still so happy. He still had so much joy in his life. I made the call anyway.

The day came. He trotted into the vet's office like he was meeting his best friend at a restaurant. The vet carried him back to get a port and he wagged his tail the whole time. He scarfed down an entire fistful of cookies.

It was still, without a single doubt, the right choice for Maverick. I have thought about it from every angle, torn apart every single decision, and there's nothing I would do differently if I could go back and do it all again.

Now Rory came to me with a weird gait. She came to me with occasional dorsal shivers (the skin thing horses do) and extremely occasionally bunny hops while running. Not enough for me to think there's something seriously wrong with her, but enough for me to send videos to her breeder. I tried to believe it was just a symptom of puppy uglies or that she just needed more time to grow gracefully.

I debated it for two months, but I finally took Rory for an assessment at a sports physio vet here in town. When I filled out the intake form, I made it clear that I could be concerned over nothing, that this could be a waste of $85 and an hour of our time.

She scheduled us in, did her hands on assessment, and found a knot in Rory's thigh. She gave us some stretches and we have a few more rechecks, but Rory should be totally fine and her gait should improved within the week. All the symptoms point towards a longterm overcompensation to reduce weight on her one leg.

I felt so stupid going into the sports vet today. I almost cancelled my appointment twice because I was sure I was imagining things. Even when she was examining Rory, I was preparing my apology for wasting her time.

Rory is going to feel better. She's going to get to grow up without the effects caused from an overcompensation from shifting her weight in a weird way. She probably would've been fine even without the appointment, but she's going to be even better now.

It's a whole lot of text to say something cliché like trust your instincts or don't overthink it, but it is what it is.

#dogblr #about mav #about aurora #tw sick dog #(mav not rory) #tw euthanasia #mav memories #if im missing a tw tag just let me know #anyway this post is mostly so i can go back later #the next time im doubting myself #and remember that my brain is mean to me and i can just....... trust...... my eyeballs......

[lightlycareless]

I’d love to know how Naoya would handle sleepless nights with a crying baby. I can imagine he’d naturally get frustrated if it’s been ongoing for a while and the frustration would most likely manifest in how he handles his feelings of helplessness in his ability to soothe his baby. Idk, Naoya trying really hard to take care of his baby but struggling is just so cute to me.

Hello anon! agjhajkhajkgaggaha aaaa thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! It was the perfect excuse to develop something I think Naoya would feel/develop when having a family with you :>

I won't say much, just let you read the whole thing hehe.

anyways, here are the warnings: none. a bit of fluff. naoya is a frustrated, insecure father. but he's a good man now so. (also we're back with baby Naomi ❤️❤️)

happy reading!

Naoya is frustrated.

And not just with the baby crying or being woken up by it—but with everything.

He knew that having a child was not going to be an easy feat, no one told him it would be, even expecting this to become the most difficult endeavor of his life, even bigger than what his career as a sorcerer entailed.

Yet, no amount of research, advice, even classes could’ve prepared him for the real deal.

Naoya considered himself very lucky to have a wife and mother as loving and attentive as you to support him in this new stage of his life, but even when you were willing to stay home and take care of Naomi while he went out to work, he still wanted to be there, spend time with you, the baby, feed her, change her, take her out for walks, spoil her—be the father he never had.

But life wasn’t to be that giving to him, and he’d soon face the consequences of his extended absence, the main reason of his current frustration: starting from Naomi’s occasional unfamiliarity towards him, to his inexperience dealing with her sleepless night.

He could’ve let you handle it, let you get up from the futon as he continued sleeping, but he’d seen it in your eyes—the exhaustion, the continuous commitment you had to your daughter and what little it allowed you to rest or do anything for yourself, really.

Naoya was eternally grateful for all you’ve done for this newfound family, and for him, so and wanting to show his appreciation, he’s decided to get off futon the moment Naomi started crying, stop you on your tracks, in favor of him tending to her.

Only to find himself regretful, useless, and upset, that he didn’t know how to ease her cries.

“Naomi, pumpkin…” Naoya would coo, gently taking her into his arms and resting her small head against his shoulders. He never gets used to this sensation, how small and delicate she was against him. “Don’t cry, papa is here.”

The baby continues to cry, still irked by something he has yet to figure out—clearly unsettled by the man who proclaimed to be her father.

He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to say it out loud and make his shame even bigger, but he couldn’t cower in fear anymore.

To see Naomi openly deny him, highlighting his lacking presence as a father, alongside his ignorance in these affairs, was the greatest pain he’d ever experienced.

It wasn’t fair that his responsibilities often pulled him away from the two; even when he did his best to earn a small “leave” to be able to support you after childbirth, it was very limited, almost inexistent, and from what he overheard from your staff, very, very difficult for you too.

Naoya felt ashamed to be called your husband, preach how much he loves you, and now Naomi, yet rarely be there alongside you.

But even then, you never reproached him. Not as harshly as he thought deserving. Instead, you’d reassure him that though you missed him, understood how invasive his job could be—having been raised in a similar setting— and how you knew what you were getting into when marrying him.

And most importantly: that Naomi loved him as her father and would grow to appreciate his sacrifices in due time.

Yet… his doubts remain; unsure if your words could be taken as truth, or if he’ll be able to swallow his anguish until then, because seeing her like, putting up a fight when he was trying to put her back to sleep…

Makes him feel like a failure of a father, the last thing he wanted to be in his family.

“Naomi, please—don’t cry, mama is trying to sleep.” Naoya would insist, as if she’d understood his words, or perhaps hoped she would. Naomi, of course, didn’t. “What do you want? Do you want to eat?”

She cries.

“Maybe a change of diapers?”

He checks—no. Nothing. Naomi simply continues wailing.

“I don’t know what you want.” Naoya laments, dissatisfaction in his voice. “In fact, I don’t know anything about you—or what you like. I don’t know your favorite color, your favorite plushie, if you prefer to go on walks or stay home with your mom…

But I know you’d prefer her to me right now, don’t you? Because you don’t know me either. I may be your father, but given how much I’m away, I could be a total stranger and it would make no difference to you.”

“Yet, you’re not—you are her father.” You suddenly appear, Naoya’s eyes swiftly dart over to you, confused, and perhaps bit annoyed.

“Why are you here? I told you I’d take—”

“Because I just remembered this is your first time putting Naomi to sleep when she can’t” you respond, walking over to him. “And I thought I’d be nice to tell you what I do.”

“…I’m supposed to know what to do.”

“Maybe, but there’s nothing wrong in asking for help.”

“That’s all I’ve asking from you, Y/N. Help.” He frowns. “I ought to know how to do something about this.”

“While the help is always appreciated, I never expected you to know everything… Not even I know it, and this is all I’ve been focused on!” you say, trying to cheer him up, but his remorseful eyes let you know he isn’t, not even close. “You’re great father, Naoya. Doing your best—that’s all that matters.”

“What good of a father can I be if my own daughter is like because of me?”

“I’ve heard her cry when she doesn’t like something—this is not one of those times.” You respond.

“Then what is it?” he asks. “Why is Naomi crying?”

“There’s really a lot of reasons, but according to what Junko-san has told me, and the doctor, she could be hungry, have a leaky diaper, or… a nightmare.”

“A nightmare?” Naoya repeats. “She can have nightmares?”

“I don’t know, I suppose so, if it isn’t anything else.” You shrug, and a sudden wave of protectiveness washes over Naoya.

“How do I comfort her?”

You smile.

“I sometimes like to hum her a lullaby or tell her a story.” You begin. “Sway a bit too, Naomi really likes when you do that. She often falls asleep after that.”

“How do you do it?” Naoya asks quickly.

“Here, let me show you.”

Naoya is nothing but attentive to your explanations, the way you’d hold Naomi against your chest, how you’d softly hum her a nursery rhyme while gently patting her back—things that while didn’t seem to work, given the way she kept crying, didn’t sway you from continuing; in turn making him grow a bit nervous, doubt his own capabilities…

But he’d push through them either way, and once he thought himself well prepared (although very nervous) Naoya takes Naomi onto her arms, accommodating her against his chest, hand on her back, as he begins to hum a song he suddenly remembered from his childhood—one he thought long forgotten, but worked to soothe him eitherway.

Your husband didn’t think it would work, didn’t have faith that he’d be able to do as good as a job as you’d done until now, but he still tried, he kept moving forward even when Naomi’s cries echoed in the room and his insecurities prickled at the back of his mind…

Because at the end of the day, this isn’t about what he needs.

It’s about what Naomi deserves.

A present father, a trying father. Not one that would discard him onto the nannies or the mother, and only appear when it was suitable for him, perhaps even less…

He’s experienced that pain, that solitude, which clung to him well into his adulthood and barely managed to free himself of it thanks to your care—and it’s something he never wishes his daughter to live through.

No matter the obstacles, Naoya has long decided, from the moment you announced your pregnancy—no, when he realized he loved you, that he will do everything in his power to be there for the two. Even if his duties keep pushing him away for long periods of times, even if Naomi sometimes doesn’t like being with him… this is the least he could do.

“Look, Naoya!” you whisper excitedly. “She’s falling asleep already!”

He blinks, carefully looking down to her chubby face, quickly realizing she was indeed starting to feel drowsy, cries slowly quieting down as he lets out a squeaky yawn, a sound that makes both your and his heart clench with adoration, grinning at the sight. “Y/N, she is!”

“I told you you’d be able to do it.” You cheer silently. “Naomi loves her papa very much, after all.”

“She does…?” Naoya hesitantly asks, looking up to you. You nod.

“Of course, she does, you should see…” you suddenly yawn, perhaps inspired by your daughter. “You should see how happy she gets when you videocall us!”

“Really?” He beams, perhaps a bit too loud for the baby’s liking, Naomi whines. “Oh, sorry pumpkin.”

You chuckle.

“You should start putting her on the crib, so she doesn’t wake up when you move her.” You suggest, and Naoya nods before heading over to the crib, carefully peeling her away from him, laying her down on the soft mattress—thankful that she doesn’t begin to cry again while doing so—eventually covering her with the blankets, keeping her warm and safe from the harshness of the night.

At the sight of his adorable baby resting, chest slowly rising and falling, indications that she’s finally fallen asleep, Naoya can’t help but smile and gently caress her cheeks, before leaning down to kiss her on the top of her head.

“Goodnight, Naomi.” He whispers, Naomi gurgles. “Papa loves you very much.”

And the silence of the night, while lovingly admiring his daughter, a question crosses Naoya’s mind.

“… Does she really love me?” Your husband asks, going back to the previous subject.

“Yes, there’s no denying it.” you slowly say. “She… loves you…”

Naoya smiles.

“I was worried I wouldn’t be able to get her back to sleep.” He adds. “But… I guess she isn’t as afraid of me, or at all.”

“Hmm…”

“Thank you so much for everything, Y/N. You’ve done so much for our family; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for it.” Naoya adds, cooing at the adorable way Naomi gently frowns, before turning back to you and heading back to the bedroom. “Anything you want, whatever you need, I’ll do it—just say the word and I’ll—"

Only to find you were already asleep, leaning back on the nearby rocking chair, exhaustion completely taking over your senses.

He chuckles.

You were exhausted too, that much he could see underneath the dim light of the moon, and while he feels a bit ashamed you still had to come to aid him, it is nothing compared to the love and appreciation he feels for you, as well as the reassuring words you gave him towards his doubts.

Naoya quickly heads over to you, carefully picking you up from the chair and carrying you all the way back to the bedroom, where he’d place you over the futon, underneath the blankets before cuddling up against you; taking in your warmth and scent that doesn’t take long to lull him into sleep, but not without sighing, giving your head one last kiss, before expressing the only sentiment he’s ever felt for you the moment his eyes laid on you.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I love you.”

him feeling useless because he's somewhat of an absent (although not voluntarily) father and hating how sometimes naomi doesn't feel that familiar/comfortable with him is 😭😭😭 ugh I'm out here humanizing naoya.

anyways, I hope you liked my take on it 🥺 this was really sweet and a bit sad to write, but enjoyable nonetheless!!

Thank you so much for sending in this ask, ajhgagjkakajgagjjak keep feeding my domestic needs... i dare you....

take care, and hope to see you soon!!!

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen #ask

[diejager]

End of Scene Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, murder, death, blood and gore, sadism, Dark!reader, dark!Ghost, stabbing, stalking, Ghostface!reader, home invasion,

Part 4

Slinking from shadow to shadow, you stalked the backdrop of a familiar house, eyes wandering over it’s baby blue walls and curtainless, wide windows, showing the world their private life. Every argument, every fit and every smile were on show, none hidden from prying eyes or dangerous attention. It was practically calling your name, asking - no - it was begging you to do something about it, to give this obnoxious and arrogant neighbourhood something to fear and watch out for. It was waiting for someone to humble this so-called “safest neighbourhood in the world”, no security camera and no patrolling police. It was just taunting you, especially when you hated the owner of this house. 

Abigail; sweet, sweet Abigail was tonight’s squealing pig. She was so whiny, always complaining about how her life was so hard when she lived off her parent’s money, in the richest part of the city and could afford whatever she wanted. She was a spoiled brat, spoiled rotten to the core from what you’d come to learn through a long month of observation. You didn’t liked brats, much less spoiled ones, Simon taught you to hate them, he whispered to you at night about how he would beat them to a pulp. You learned to learned to put them in their place.

And she was so easy —too easy. She followed the same routine, her nights spent drinking until all she could do was waddle to her bed, trying and sometimes failing to reach her bed and just laying on her floor. Abigail was at her weakest in a drunken stupor, bumbling and stammering as she spoke when you called, watching as your raspy voice confused her, but the best moment was meeting her in the morning, her paranoid glances around her and awkward gait from her pounding hangover. While she was fun to spook, you were growing tired of watching the same thing over and over again, she wasn’t what you were looking for anymore and soon, you’d have to move on, find another obsession. It was time to end this story. 

You crouched outside her window, licking your lips in anticipation, you waited for her to stumble into the kitchen, searching for her new bottle of aged wine that you caught her buy for over two hundred. Seeing you moment, you crawled through the open window that she always left open for better air circulation, stalking past the kitchen entrance and hiding away in her closet. You had to bite your tongue to keep your excited giggle from slipping, enjoying her ambling through the small gap in the door, she placed her wine glass and bottle, and ungracefully dropped down on her couch, hissing about her back pain. 

You stared with bated breath, gazing at her while she took sip after sip, throwing herself deeper in the ground with how fast the alcohol was getting to her head. You huffed, pushing open the closet door without a sound and sliding behind her. She was too drunk to be aware of her immediate surrounding, a sloppy and annoying person that you were about to… bring to the limelight with your art. Knife in hand, you swiped at her neck with your free hand, gripping her throat to pull her back, throwing her to the ground with little care while she wailed and begged. 

“Please! Please! What do you want?! I’ll give you anything! Anything!!”

You straddled the back of her thighs, ignoring her tearful screams in favour of admiring her helpless figure, too weak to fight you off and too drunk to do anything. 

“Anything I want, yeah?” You cackled, watching her nod and gurgle out weeps, “I want your life then.”

Raising your knife, a clean and well-kept buck knife that Simon got you, you took a shuddering breath, scenting her terror before you swung down, sinking it deep into her back. You appreciated her choked scream and the wet squelch of your stab, blood pooled from her wound when you pulled out, spraying you in red when you stabbed her once more. You killed with passion, a final act of acknowledgment to a person you grew to know, an integral part of your stories. You sunk your knife into her again, and again, and again, flicking blood all over you and around you, staining the furniture and walls with flakes of red and the cashmere carpet of hers with a pool of blood. 

You listened to her choke on her blood, her chin painted a bright red and eyes blinking slowly, you sat back on your haunches, head lolling back with a heavy, but satisfied sigh. Slowly reaching into your jacket, you pulled out your camera and switched it on, quickly admiring the previous pictures you took with prior actors. Sliding the knife back into it’s sheath, you kneeled forward, gloved hand harshly grasping at the roots of her bleached hair and propped her up for a selfie, her body still warm under you and mouth dripping blood. Smiling behind the mask, you took a few pictures, the shutter clicking loudly in your ears with the bright and blinding flash of the lights, and dropped Abigail, her head slamming roughly with a wet splash on the carpet. 

You flipped through the shots, admiring your bloody work with a proud hum, unbothered by her dying rasp and last wheeze. You secured your camera in the pocket you sewed in your jacket and stared at your piggy one last time before you’d leave the closing scene of your story to reporters and authorities to write and critique. You hummed a small lullaby, looking over the dirtied walls and smeared floor, you turned to the window you crawled in from. Then your phone shook, vibrating in your coat, and in a moment of curiosity, too happy to be mad that you were interrupted in your moment you looked at the caller name. It was Simon!

“Hi, Si,” you grinned, a higher pitch in your tone despite the modulator’s incapability of catching it.

“ ‘ello, kit,” his reply was slow, lazy in a way, unlike your giddy one, “Where are you?”

You looked around the room and open hallway, it’d be useless to lie to him when you answered him with the voice changer on, and lying to him would disappoint him. You hated disappointing Simon, how that small, but warm gleam in his eyes would turn cold and blank, showing how much he was displeased with your acts and decision. 

“Abigail’s, just finished.”

You caught a proud rumble - more so a growl - from his side and clothes shifting as he moved from, what you presumed, his bed. 

“At piggy’s? Sloppy, kit, what if there are cameras?”

You laughed, a loud, boisterous and belly chuckle.

“You know me, Si. You didn’t teach me to be sloppy, I know what I’m doing.”

“Good, do me proud and I’ll fuck you good when ’m home, yeah?”

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