#I nearly gave myself a cavity over this!

[loveletterstothepast]

Dear Micha, Dear grief,

February 13th 2024.

A year ago today dear Micha I was in the hospital after my water broke February 10th at 2am. I went to UMC twice before calling it quits and trying to give you a fighting chance by going to Covenant. I remember the bleeding was almost nonstop and this day it finally let up. I was supposed to endure the rest of my pregnancy with you on bed rest still in the hospital. I remember knowing you were going to come. Late on the 13th. I remember telling my mom and your dad. I felt you. I felt your precious little presence in the air. You were going to be born within the week. My bets were we were either going to have you on Valentine’s day or you would be born the 16th. I was prepared. I remember them pulling out a massive blood clot from inside of me. It was the size of my face and once I saw it. It was over for me. I knew that today would be the day I’d see you soon. What my body had worked so hard to craft from cells. From deep love.

I knew you were on your way into the world and I gave us a fighting chance. I really did. I was left in the hands of cluelessness and ignorance. Maybe I failed us by not pushing at UMC to get steroids for you to survive. You got your first steroids early February 13th. I think about it a lot. I heard your thumping beautiful heartbeat all day long. Saw you one last time on the ultrasound. Loved you in your life the last few hours before I was drugged to be put to sleep. I slept holding you. Protecting you. You will never be unloved in my heart. You will always have a home in the cavity’s of my soul. Everywhere I exist you are there with me. A scar. A feeling. A smell. I feel you in every crevice of my life. I love you in every corner big and small. My only reason to live is to give your name purpose. Never once forgotten. Always remembered. Always cared for. As your birthday comes on the 14th, I wonder why.

Things have come forward that haven’t felt like they were in my face right away until this moment. Scandal; betrayal. I’m not sure if maybe God has a plan in store for me after everything is all said and done. However.. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give you siblings. I accepted it. I’ve silently dealt and dwelled in the reality that you may be my only child. The only part of me that will ever have extended outside of me. I often think about your dad.. and how he’s all mixed up in all of this. My denial in the basic truth and how I grasp at straws holding onto a life we wanted to give you.. how you can’t even be apart of it. How I’m making empty promises into the world wishing I could’ve got it right the first time.

My life’s failures aren’t due to God’s hatred towards me. My life’s suffering isn’t to atone for past sin. Life is simply what it is. It’s chaos and I’ve come to terms with it finally. I won’t deny that it is not what I want for myself. It’s not the life I want to live. I think about all the changes I want to make to this day and things I wish I would’ve done differently. Things I wanted to do for you. They are now things I must do for myself.

I love you beyond what words could say. My heart yearns for you. I carry guilt that I do not say your name nearly enough. I don’t say I love you nearly enough. I’ve gone through the motions of it all and have found that after you died nothing mattered to me. My smile wasn’t real. My conversations were transparent. Everything about me.. was washed under your absence. Then I made it my soul responsibility to mother and father a man who didn’t even love me anymore. I am lost in him. I’m lost in you. I am nowhere to be found anymore and the sound of emptiness echos in the void I call myself.

I’m a liar. I’m a fool. Everything that was left after you. The small amount I had. She was stripped raw and left the shell. All I feel is grief and pain. I look for happy days. I live for those brief silent moments where things are real. They are all that I have now.

I love you. I miss you. I wonder who you would’ve been.

Happy Belated Birthday my Angel. I’m sorry on this platform I neglected to mention you. It’s not like anyone sees me. It’s not like anyone could possibly hear me.

I’ve left my body here and it’s all anyone cares about. I’ve been missing and no one has noticed. I wonder if all your small messages of still watching me are for me and not for us.. I wish you’d come to me alone. I wish I could hold you in my heart alone. It’s in my heart where you are safe. I’ll protect you and your memory from every evil awful person.

I love you. I breathe for you. I yearn for you. I’d die to just be with you again.

Love your moma.

[casspurrjoybell-28]

Alpha's Temptation - Chapter 34 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

I awake with a startled gasp, urgently surveying where I am.

Is he here?

Is he going to hurt me?

I'm nearly hyperventilating, grasping the sheets as I try to remember where I am.

The room is quiet.

Only soft breathing comes from beside me and I look to see Daemon with his hair all messed up from the pillows, sleeping peacefully.

Thank God I didn't wake him up.

The sight of him fills me with some relief but my heart still beats a mile a minute.

This often happens when I awake from night terrors like this... my body is still stuck in the dream and the anxiety doesn't go away for a while.

But why am I having so many lately?

It's really draining.

In this one, my stepfather was holding me down as he pressed his knee down on my chest cavity.

Any harder and he would've broken my rib cage.

The hot ash from his cigar was raining down on my face, singeing my cheeks.

My stomach still queasy, I quietly sneak off the bed, gently moving Daemon's arm which was slung over me.

I tiptoe to the bathroom, my feet padding lightly over the polished wood floor.

The need to vomit overcomes me but all I can manage is dry heaving over the toilet.

Nothing comes out.

I feel gross.

I rinse my face in the sink with trembling hands, staring at myself in the mirror when I'm done.

The blood has drained from my face, my eyes looking watery and red from lack of restful sleep.

I realize that Daemon is right.

I'm scared.

Really fucking scared.

I'm scared at the thought of the life I have now being taken away from me in an instant.

That's why whenever something even remotely bad or stressful happens, it's like I emotionally collapse, not able to function properly.

Because I'm worried it will all fall apart.

I can't help but think of that worst.

How my stepfather might find me one day.

And the thought of losing everything I've finally been able to get here to go back to the feelings of pain and terror he gave me chills me to the bone.

I grasp the sink for support, steadying my breath.

I hear a small knock on the bathroom door I left ajar.

Daemon leans himself against the frame, watching me with a worried look.

"Felt you get up. You good?"

From the looks of it, he didn't see much so I quickly nod my head.

"I'm fine."

He's silent for a moment, surveying me like he doesn't believe it.

"Are you sure?"

I feel sick to my stomach, actually.

But I hold everything in, giving him a small, strained smile.

"Yes. I'm really fine."

Daemon and I leave the house early that morning because he has to stop by work for a bit before he drops me at school.

Trying to get my mind off who bad I felt this morning, I'm excited to see the garage.

I remember when I came here before and saw Henry weirdly staring at me.

I could've never guessed what that was going to unfold into.

But anyways, I'm pushing him out of my thoughts today.

I'm pushing out ALL negative thoughts.

This is where Daemon works and I think that's cool.

And the thought of him all sweaty and covered with engine grease stains... yeah, that kind of turns me on.

Though I'll never say it out loud.

We go in through the large sliding metal doors in the front, Daemon leading me through a large workspace filled with tools and contraptions I'll probably never comprehend the use of, as well as a variety of cars and vehicles being worked on.

The workers are friendly, giving us waves and smiles.

"You can wait out here. I have to get something from the office," he tells me.

I find myself near a car Daemon's been working on.

It's a vintage Ford Mustang, I think.

That's what I remember him telling me.

My eyes wander over the smooth, polished hood.

It's amazing to think Daemon did all this himself.

From what I know about him, with his carvings as well as this, he knows how to use his hands. In more ways than one.

"You like it?" a voice from my side startles me and I flinch, turning to look at the source.

An older man with short dusty brown hair stands there.

"Woah there," he says. "Didn't mean to spook you."

"Sorry."

I can't really help it.

I've always startled really easily.

"That's okay, sweetheart. You like this old thing here?"

He tips his head at the mustang.

"Y-yeah. It's cool," I say. Why is he talking to me all of the sudden?

"I can show you something much better. More modern for a kid like you."

"U-Um..."

I want to defend Daemon's work but the man is already walking over to his workspace and motioning me over.

I let my eyes wander over the deep cherry-red motorcycle he's showing me.

It's all sleek edges with a shiny metallic finish.

"What do you think?" he asks me.

Since this guy is from Daemon's work, I want to be friendly.

"It's pretty. I really love the color."

"I was right. Eh?" he says, lightly patting the seat of it.

"Pretty things like pretty things, don't they?"

I laugh awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

Is he calling me a thing?

"I can take you out on it, if you want. It's up and running," he suddenly suggests.

"I d-don't think..."

"Come on. I'd take you for a wild ride, boy. You'd love it."

"Um..."

I look over to the door Daemon disappeared through.

When is he coming back?

"You don't fancy an old man like me? That it?" he questions, raising a bushy eyebrow.

Both his eyebrows look like furry caterpillars and combined with him staring at me expectantly it gives me the urge to laugh.

I can't help that I start giggling, trying to muffle it with a hand over my mouth.

I don't know why but something about the situation is just so funny.

"Aw, don't be like that, sweetheart. I'm serious. Give me a chance and I'll show you what a man is..." he stops abruptly, his face going white.

"You'd show him what?" I hear Daemon's deep voice from behind me.

I feel his powerful arm wrap possessively around my waist, pulling me back from the man and to his side.

"God almighty... shit," is all the man replies.

"Shit is right," Daemon growls at him.

"Don't even think about it, Hunter."

Oh boy.

From past experiences, I see where this is going.

"H-Hey it's almost eight..."

I look up at him.

But he's still staring at Hunter like he wants to kill him.

"Look, I didn't know he was your Omega... if I did, I wouldn't have..." he's cut off by a loud car pulling into the lot out front.

A lady stands up and starts calling people over.

Hunter takes this as his chance to leave.

"I gotta... uh... yeah," he motions vaguely at the front lot, backing away from us cautiously then turning around and speedily walking off.

Daemon moves to go after him, his jaw tense but I quickly grab his hand.

"Don't, Daemon. L-let's just go," I urge him.

He doesn't look like he wants to listen but I see him faltering.

He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Fine."

[starlight-vixen-emiko]

Hopeful Promise

AO3

I was going to post the fanfiction.net link as well but right now fanfiction.net is not cooperating with me! I’ll post it later, I apologize.

Anyway, good evening lovebugs! I apologize I that what I am presenting is just a oneshot again.

This is one is one of the WIPs I posted, where Marinette and Luka have a romantic picnic and Luka wants to ask Marinette something......

Yeah I am still not giving the context for that just read it and find out.

Enjoy! <3

~~~~~

Luka wondered if it would be too much to introduce the idea to her.

His girlfriend Marinette was prone to panic, but this question has been eating at him even if it was a bit of a bold question to ask when they were still teenagers.

But he just held that thought as the two of them found a picnic table by the flowers. Marinette smiled at him as she opened up the picnic basket and cut croissants in half. She spread cream cheese on both slices and placed blueberries on one slice, and sliced strawberries on the other.

Luka smiled in anticipation. Marinette was about to hand the blueberry slice to Luka. But he took both slices and placed them together before taking a huge bite. He gave pleased noises from the sweetness of the berries and the freshly made croissant.

"Hey! We were supposed to share that!" Marinette teased.

"Sorry," Luka said before wiping berry juice from the corner of his lips. "It tastes so good."

Luka handed the sandwich back to Marinette, and she took a bite herself. Giving multiple pleased moans as she wanted to eat the rest.

After the two of them finished lunch, Luka wiped the last bit of berry juice from Marinette's lips before sucking it off his own fingers.

"That was an amazing lunch melody," Luka said, smiling at her.

Marinette grinned. "Anything for you, Luka."

Anything.

It was at this moment that Luka knew she loved him as much as he loved her. And that made his heart feel so strong. But they were still so young.

The blue-haired boy reasoned with himself to just place that question on the back of his mind for now. He grabbed his guitar before climbing over the picnic table to sit next to Marinette. Luka played gentle tunes as Marinette rested on his side.

God, Marinette's gentle body against his, causing his heart to beat faster and his guitar playing to be more passionate. Whether or not he asked her, he certainly knew his own answer.

"Is something on your mind?" Marinette asked.

Luka lost his tune for a moment. Then, he paused his guitar playing because he had to admit he was a bit nervous right now. Even if he was usually considered the calm and collective person in their friend group.

"Nothing in particular," Luka lied.

Marinette paused before turning to her boyfriend, and her bluebell eyes looked right through him. Beautiful bluebell eyes like a gentle lagoon on a starlit evening.

Luka continued to play that gentle tune to calm his nerves.

"I was thinking about," Luka paused as he tried to keep up his tempo. "How it's a beautiful day today and how I am happy to be spending time with the most amazing girlfriend in the world."

Marinette smiled, but she didn't seem very convinced.

"And I am going to be dreaming about delicious fruit croissant sandwiches for the next few days," Luka added.

Marinette gave a pleased hum. "You always know how to compliment me."

Marinette gave a devious smirk and booped his nose for a moment, causing Luka to smile. Yes, she was charmed by Luka's energy, but she knew he was stretching the truth a bit.

But Marinette let him be as she laid beside him and relaxed to his soft tunes while lacing some flowers together. When she finished, she took a moment to sit up and tie them around Luka's neck.

He smiled, thinking about how she was always sweet and giving.

Little did she know she had a question weighing on her mind as well.

"Luka…"

Luka's aquamarine eyes shined at her. Something that still made Marinette blush rose-red even though they were long past the honeymoon phase of their relationship.

"Yes, Marinette?" He set his guitar down for a moment as he loved hearing her voice much more than any instrument.

Marinette smiled sheepishly and placed her hand on the back of her neck, automatically feeling that she was sweating.

"Well, we have been dating for a while, and…."

Luka waited for her to collect herself, but Marinette still felt so nervous.

"I was going to ask you something crazy," Marinette said.

Luka gave her a calming smile. "I doubt what you have to say is crazy, Marinette."

Marinette blinked. "It is! Because we are still teenagers and…."

She suddenly felt her words stop. Marinette gave a soft sigh as if she gave up.

Luka breathed out and felt he should reveal what he wanted to ask her. Maybe it would make her feel less crazy. He was still a bit worried Marinette would be turned off by the idea, but if this idea was eating at him for, a while he should let it out. If it really was a bad idea, his gut would tell him not to.

He placed his hand under her chin and raised her head up to meet hers.

"I wanted to tell you something too," Luka said as Marinette's bluebell eyes widened. "But," he paused from his voice shaking a bit. "I am a bit nervous…."

It clicked for Marinette that he was about to tell her what he was hiding before. Marinette moved closer to him.

"Don't be nervous!" Marinette insisted. "I want to know!"

Luka chuckled to himself as his hand dug through his jacket pocket.

"I am afraid you might be a bit overwhelmed," he said gently.

Marinette knew she was prone to panic, no one had to tell her that twice, and Luka always made her feel comfortable and stable. She took his free hand with hers.

"You can tell me anything too, Luka!" Marinette cried, her eyes showing him that she was serious. "You always know what to say."

Now Luka suddenly felt at ease as he squeezed her hand and moved closer to her, so they were leaning against each other as if they sat in a love seat.

"I'll tell you," Luka said.

Marinette rested herself against Luka's shoulder as they sat in silence for a moment before Luka spoke.

"Well, we've been together for a long time, and I couldn't be happier," Luka said.

Marinette gently nuzzled herself against him. "I couldn't either! You're the best boyfriend ever, Luka!"

That was a relief for Luka to hear.

"But for the past few weeks, I couldn't help but think…."

"Hm?" Marinette raised her head to meet Luka's eyes. Her blue eyes sparkled to him, deep in curiosity.

"That maybe in the future…." Luka's face started heating up. Marinette squeezed his hand as if she was eager to know what he had to convey.

Luka breathed out as he tried to compose himself but looking at his beautiful girlfriend now, he smiled at her without a single doubt in his mind.

"I love you, Marinette," he said firmly. "And there is not a single doubt in my mind about that. But for the past few weeks, I couldn't help but think it would be absolutely amazing if we…." He dug into his pocket again.

"If we got married someday in the future."

On the one hand, Luka was relieved he freed that burning idea. But now, he started to question if he was a weirdo hopeless romantic.

But Marinette's mouth went slightly agape before she placed her hand over her chest and smiled warmly.

Luka guessed she wasn't upset at all, but she said nothing and dug through her backpack to pull out her sketchbook.

"I was a bit nervous because of what you were hiding," Marinette said as she held her closed sketchbook in her hands and leaned against her boyfriend. "But…"

She opened up her sketchbook, and Luka saw drawings of the two of them in adorable chibi anime style and wearing wedding attire. There were also the words "Marinette + Luka Together Forever" written in cursive.

Luka held the other side of the sketchbook. A pleased smile was on his face that made Marinette feel relieved.

"Alya and Kagami teased me again this as if they don't fantasize about marrying their own boyfriends!" Marinette cried.

Marinette retook Luka's hand and blushed bashfully, thinking about what could be in the future.

"But the point is," Marinette's face glowed brighter red. "I would love to marry you someday, Luka."

Her voice made a slight squeak saying that last part, but Luka adored that.

Marinette couldn't help but giggle next.

"It's funny how we both thought the same thing. I'm not an insane hopeless romantic!" Marinette cried.

Luka wrapped his arm around her and held her close to where she could faintly hear his heartbeat like a soft metronome.

"Kind of makes me believe that the both of us are made for each other, and we will get married when the time is right," There were hopeful notes in Marinette's words.

"I'm glad you agree, Marinette," Luka said. Marinette just wanted to rest by her boyfriend's side for the rest of the day, feeling secure for the future.

"Because I got you this."

Marinette turned and managed to stifle her yelp at the sight of Luka smiling down on her and holding a ring with a pink heart-shaped jewel on it.

"Luka!" Marinette cried. "You…" She became breathless.

Luka held her closer. "It's just a promise ring. I thought it suited you."

Marinette released herself from Luka's hold and gave him a slightly stern look.

"Luka, I told you you don't have to buy me expensive things."

Luka smiled. "I know, I saved up for this."

"You're more than worth it, though," He said as he moved the ring closer to her.

Marinette looked at the ring for a good moment. It was absolutely gorgeous and priceless, and Marinette almost felt she wasn't worthy of such a romantic gift. Not to mention all the money Luka put in for her, so she couldn't bring herself to accept the ring.

But then Marinette thought, this boy truly was ride and die for her. Even willing to buy expensive, flashy stuff to show how serious he was about them. And this was a dream come true for Marinette. No, more beautiful than any other dream she ever dreamt.

And she loved him. Her concerned expression melted as her heart skipped a beat, thinking how much Luka believed in what they had.

She smiled as she presented her finger, and Luka placed the promise ring on her.

Marinette was in awe, looking at the small diamond that was now wrapped around her. She just felt so lucky being loved this much, and she almost wanted to show it off to all her friends as if it were an actual engagement ring.

But she turned to Luka, who gave her his usual "I love you" face. Everything he did reminded her that she was loved.

"I love you, Luka."

Luka's aquamarine eyes shined like the sea, and his smile was as warm as sunlight.

"I love you too, Marinette."

Marinette moved in closer, so she sat on his lap and hugged him while resting her head on his broad chest. Luka gently hugged her as well, and they stayed in blissful silence for a moment.

Then Marinette broke the hug and eagerly jumped off the picnic table to pack up the picnic basket.

"Luka, let's go get ice cream."

Luka had to admit that sharing Andre's ice cream did seem perfect after he and Marinette made a promise. And he was craving more sweet stuff.

"Sure, Marinette."

Luka placed his guitar in his guitar case, and the two of them walked hand and hand.

But feeling Marinette's ring on her finger gave Luka even more blissful daydreams of a beautiful future together.

#endgame lukanette #lukanette #pro lukamari #my writing #my fanfiction #I nearly gave myself a cavity over this!

[fandomlit]

neutral, chap. 3 (dream smp x reader)

series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary after teaching tommy how to make cookies, you surprise him with your archery skills as you fight off mobs swarming outside of your house. tommy comes to a conclusion that makes him slightly ashamed of himself; being neutral doesn’t make you weak.

warnings swearing, killing of mobs (zombies, spiders, skeletons), some mental health talk (kinda)

previous | series masterlist | next

gif cred belongs to @netheriteaxe

it was storming the next night. after a nice dinner of meatloaf and mashed potatoes, y/n proposed that tommy help her make some dessert for them to enjoy.

“you sure i can’t mess this up?” tommy asked warily as she opened her small, self-written recipe book and placed it in front of them.

“im sure,” she assured, patting his cheek endearingly. he made a face. “your face is gonna freeze that way, kid.”

“whatever,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes as she laughed. “what are we making?”

“cookies!” she smiled. “one of the easiest things you can make.”

tommy sighed. though it was embarrassing to admit aloud, he couldn’t help but feel nervous about the experiment. “what do we need?”

“well...” after thirty minutes of patience from y/n, frustration from tommy, and unhelpful side commentary from ghostbur, the cookies were nearly ready to place in the furnace.

“how big should i make them?” tommy questioned, looking up at y/n from the baking sheet she had spread out for him.

she shrugged, placing her hand on the back of the chair ghostbur sat in. “however big you want. measure with your heart.”

“you also said that about the chocolate chips,” ghostbur commented. “now we’re all going to have cavities.” y/n whacked the boy on the back of the head, keeping her expression kind as she looked at tommy. 

“however you want them,” she assured. tommy nodded in return, turning back to the baking sheet just a loud banging came from the main entrance of the house. y/n peeked out of the kitchen. “oh, wow, that’s a lot of mobs..”

ghostbur leaned back to see. “goddamn!”

“tommy, you go ahead and portion and pop those into the oven,” y/n spoke, running a hand through her hair. “i have a feeling my door’s not gonna last much longer.” she rushed out of the room without another word.

“having fun yet?” ghostbur questioned as tommy began to portion out the blobs of cookie dough.

“kinda,” he shrugged. “y/n’s a good teacher.”

“she is,” ghostbur agreed.

“it’s also kind of nice to have a break from more chaotic things,” tommy continued as he worked. “you know, y/n surrounds herself with peace. she’s not a fighter like you were and i am. so, it’s nice to do as she does.” ghostbur chuckled and tommy looked up just as he finished portioning out the dough. “what?”

“whoever said y/n wasn’t a fighter?” ghostbur teased. just then, said girl came back into the kitchen with a bow in hand and a quiver full of arrows slung over her shoulder.

“cookies in yet?” she asked, eyes gleaming with excitement he hadn’t yet seen from her. her words were rushed out, and he stuttered to reply quickly.

“y-yeah, well, about to be,” he managed out. “what are you doing?”

y/n grinned at him as he lowered the tray of dough into the furnace. “someone’s gotta deal with the mobs out front.” before she disappeared, tommy called out to her.

“wait, y/n!” he called. “can i come with?”

“sure!” she laughed. “ghostbur, set a timer for fifteen, please!” tommy rushed to follow her as she practically raced up the stairs. ghostbur grinned after them.

“where are we going?” tommy huffed out as y/n led him down a hall he was yet to discover.

she slowed down, opening up a door that revealed the stormy night to him. “right out here.” tommy stepped out onto the small balcony. tarps covered the sides, preventing them from being pelted by the brunt of the rain and wind, but allowed them access to viewing the main entrance from the side.

“are you good with a bow, tommy?” y/n asked, still smiling as she delicately plucked an arrow from her quiver.

“uh- not really..,” the boy admitted, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

“that’s alright,” she smiled reassuringly as she lined up the arrow in her bow and pulled the string back. “i assume you’re better with a sword?”

“much better,” he nodded. she let out a hum before releasing the string from her fingertips, and tommy could barely keep up with the arrow that flew through the air and lodged itself in between a skeleton’s shoulder and collarbone, causing the mob to collapse into a pile of uselessness. tommy’s mouth suddenly felt dry as y/n loaded another arrow. 

he had never seen someone take down a skeleton in one shot, not even dream.

tommy watched as she closed one eye, aiming at three zombies lined up. she took a breath before tugging harshly at her string, then letting the arrow zoom through the storm and cleanly through the three’s heads. they all crumbled into a mass of rotten flesh.

“four mobs and two arrows?!” tommy managed as y/n reached for another. she looked over and laughed at the surprised boy. “how the hell did you do that?”

“i’ve always been good at aiming,” she spoke casually as she worked to load another arrow, aiming now at a spider working its way up her walls. she managed to lodge the arrow into its leg, effectively tearing it off of the creature and causing it to tumble onto the zombie below. they heard it hiss just before another arrow pinned through its heart and the zombie’s head, rendering both creatures silent. “not so much with close contact fighting.”

“i think this makes up for it,” tommy spoke distractedly, shaking his head with amazement as he watched her fingers move with instinct and practice. she launched another strong arrow into the hoard.

she laughed as she continued to work. “i fumble when im up close..” arrow after arrow whizzed from her bow. “from this distance, i can take my time. i can breathe, i can calculate.” mobs went down, pair after pair sinking to the cold, wet grass below. “and when we can do those things, our work only shows it.” she knocked down one last skeleton before she dropped her bow to her side. there were now only a few creepers and spiders mulling around.

“that was amazing,” tommy spoke after a moment of silence, looking at her with wide eyes. she gave him a smile. “i.. wow.”

she laughed just as ghostbur peeked his head out. “five minute warning.”

“thanks, ghostbur,” y/n nodded. “come on, kid. let’s towel off and eat some cookies.” tommy nodded, following her back into the house. he stayed behind with ghostbur as she went to grab towels.

“so?” ghostbur spoke with a knowing grin. “how was that?”

tommy shook his head, still processing the skill he had just experienced. “she’s the best archer i’ve ever seen! she didn’t miss a single target, she knew exactly where and when to aim, i-” he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “i can’t believe i thought she couldn’t fight. of course she can fight.”

“neutral doesn’t mean weak,” ghostbur spoke wisely, placing a hand on tommy’s shoulder. the boy looked up at him with pursed lips, guilt weighing in his chest. “y/n is the strongest woman i know; she cooks, she welds, and she can work a bow like you’ve never seen. never expect anything with her, tommy. she’ll never stop surprising you.”

tommy nodded. “neutral doesn’t mean weak, eh?” ghostbur gave him a smile. “of course it doesn’t. it’s not like she chose this life.. there was a war.”

“right,” ghostbur confirmed. “it’s alright to be wrong sometimes, tommy. especially about someone you’ve known and lived with for what, a week?” he nodded. “see? you don’t have to know everything all the time.”

“okay,” tommy nodded, his voice quiet as ghostbur squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “wow. it’s strange to be able to hold myself to a lower standard.”

“y/n is teaching you some amazing things about mental health, tommy.”

tag list!! @vanhakirja @victory-is-here @inkyynki @airiour @sylum @kiritokunuwu @221bee-slytherin @bllatrixcarpnter @soullesstaco @stxrryb1tch @amibismexy @keiarma @akaichi-blog @runningoffofcaffeine​ @nonetookind​ @aquilla-favonia​ @feverish-dove​ @izuruamme​​​ comment below or message me if you would like to be added <3

#youtubers x reader #youtubers fanfic #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfic #dream smp x reader #dream smp fanfic #dream x reader #dream fanfic #ghostbur x reader #ghostbur fanfic #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit fanfic

[inhuman-obey-me]

Knowledge is Wrath

Word Count: 1.8k Description: The Avatar of Wrath had mastered the art of pleasantries and placid smiles, a mask he wears nearly perfectly -- but if you try and take advantage of him, he won't hesitate to let it fall. Part of the A Demon's Nature series. Hereeeeee's Satan and his glorious wrath!! Note: Cabariel is a high-ranking demon named in the Ars Theurgia who has fifty dukes attend to him in the day, and another fifty dukes attend to him at night. Thalbus is one of the named night dukes, who are said to be deceitful and disobedient. Can also be found on AO3 here. content warning: gore gore gore, blood, body mutilation/horror

The Avatar of Wrath had mastered the art of pleasantries and placid smiles, burying the rage that always burned under his skin deep within the darkest parts of his soul. He would be more than wrath, more than the fury that everyone expected of him. At least, that is what he would constantly tell himself, knowing that many still found themselves on edge in his presence. It’s all an act, some who had witnessed his true self would say, others merely repeating it for his title and position alone.

There was a place where those whispers would fade away, however. The company of high-society, where he had gathered an array of acquaintances with whom he could discuss a variety of subjects, sharing his extensive knowledge and exchanging it for theirs. These connections only ran so deep, most never crossing the line into friendship -- but friendship is not what Satan sought. He wanted status, a curated image that placed him firmly in the echelons of the wise and out of the shadows of rage incarnate, out of the shadow of pride.

“Thank you again, Lord Satan. I can’t believe I’ll actually be able to see this scroll for myself!” A lesser demon eagerly walked alongside the Avatar of Wrath, accompanying him through the gates of the Demon Lord’s Castle.

“It’s my pleasure, Thalbus.” Satan gave the other his ever-polite smile. “Cabariel had mentioned multiple times that you were anxious to get a look at it, so I’m glad I can be of assistance.” Here he was, leading one such acquaintance to the Royal Archives housed at the castle. It was a privilege few had, one that Satan treasured greatly. He had been allowed by Lord Diavolo centuries ago to visit the archives as much as he pleased, and he did not let the offer go to waste.

They descend now, traversing through the grand passages of the castle -- both imposing and eerie, some corridors shrouded in darkness while others are aglow with flames. Portraits watched them pass by, whispered -- ‘a new visitor, how quaint’. Upon reaching the door that housed the array of treasured documents and scrolls, Satan whispers an incantation he knows well, the last of the words leaving his lips and turning into a spark of light that traces the intricate pattern carved in stone. With a click, the door opens, and the two walk in -- the door then heavily shutting behind them.

“Here we are.” Satan gestures to the main archive room, lined with towering shelves that nearly reached the domed ceiling. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“It is, it is!” Thalbus gives him a grin, ever-so-slightly crooked. Clasping his hands together, his eyes scan the magnificent annals of the Devildom. “So … where is that scroll?”

“Impatient, aren’t we?” Satan merely smiles, though he feels the way his jaw wants to clench. “Come, it’s in one of the back rooms.”

Down a few aisles, through an archway, and they now are before a vitrine with a scroll neatly rolled out in full display, the parchment delicate from its age but its fibers intact due to restorative magic. It’s much smaller than one would expect, and thick ink is scrawled across it in ancient demonic tongue -- “The Word of the Regent”.

“Wow,” Thalbus gasps in awe, scuttling closer to the glass to get a good look at the prized artifact. “So it really does exist … “

“That it does.” Ah, what a smug look it was that now graced the Avatar’s features. “It really is fascinating, apparently written by one of the first kings. Many are still trying to decipher it’s more complicated and muddled passages, as it seems to speak of a series of powerful rituals that would grant whoever is able to perform it a great amount of power and wealth. Or, so say the urban legends, the actual validity is still debated and -- “

Satan continues to speak, showing off every bit of knowledge he has on the subject as Thalbus continues to admire the scroll. He gets a few ‘hmms’ and various other one-word acknowledgments in response, which is all he needs to continue his confident rambling. To be in the presence of another demon who understood the splendor of such a relic was refreshing, even if for only selfish reasons in that the Greater Demon could bestow an interested party in all his wisdom.

“Thank you once again, Lord Satan.” Thalbus gestures in great respect, hiding a rather satisfied smile as they both eventually leave the archive chamber. “I am incredibly lucky to have been able to be introduced to you, and to see the scroll for myself! Ah, what a dream come true!”

“Again, you are very welcome.” Picture-perfect smile, a steady gaze. They round a few corners, go down a flight of steps -- the portraits whisper again, “oh my, oh my”. They enter one of the dim passages, steps lost to shadows.

“Um, Lord Satan … forgive me, but is this the way back out?” Thalbus warily speaks up, eyes darting around the dark.

“Oh, no. No, it isn’t.” Satan laughs, shaking his head as a large smile stays plastered on his lips. A fool, the Avatar thinks to himself, he truly takes ME for a fool! How ridiculous, preposterous, outrageous. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice, Thalbus?”

“Pardon me?”

“Adorable, how you think you can feign innocence.” He laughs again, though malice bleeds through his voice this time. With a wave of his hand, the shriek of metal scraping against stone is heard -- a gate closes, and Thalbus now realizes he is trapped in a room with no escape. “So, why don’t you hand it over?”

“Oh … you mean, this?” The lesser demon produces a thin tube from his jacket, cocky grin splitting his lips. “I suppose you’re sharper than I realized. Didn’t think you would pay attention while you kept yapping and yapping.” How courageous, for him to act as if he wasn’t moments away from wrathful consequences, Thalbus would have one think. How utterly foolish, is what Satan knows.

Imperturbable smile still present, the Greater Demon steps closer and moves to snatch the contained scroll from the thief, but Thalbus has decided he’d much rather opt for more severe torment as he moves to hide it again. Were all demons of deceit this imprudent? The flames of wrath begin to grow within -- hotter, deadlier.

“How about we make a deal?” Thalbus tries. “You let me borrow the scroll, and I’ll grant you something in return.”

“Oh?” Satan’s smile widens, but his teeth grow sharper. “A deal you say? Truly, Thalbus, you continue to impress!” He begins to laugh, that laugh that sounded so melodic and cheerful and yet just a hint deranged. Satan tilts his head to the side, his eyes glowing a fierce green in the darkness. “You think that you of all demons can entice me with a deal? Just what could you possibly have to offer ME?” His laughter continues, growing more maniacal as his body continues to shift and distort. His claws grow longer, his tail thrashing about as flesh gives way at parts to bone, green flames tracing up his spine to match the searing verdant flames that now emit from his hollow eye sockets. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

Thalbus does not have time to respond, though the terror now present on every crevice of his being is answer enough. In an instant, claws are at his throat as he is held up against the wall, the sound of metal hitting the stone floor ringing out as the scroll slips from his grasp and rolls into the far corner of the room.

“Ah, looks like you’ve lost your bargaining chip!” There is a distortion to Satan’s voice, a grating echo. “That’s too bad.” His tail goes to flick at Thalbus’ cheek before roughly moving against his flesh, its sharp edges peeling away at his skin to reveal what lay underneath. The lesser demon tries to shriek, only to find no sound leaves him. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

Satan laughs again, before the claws of his other hand immediately go to grip Thalbus’ jaw, wrenching it open and piercing a claw through his aforementioned muscle. “Oh, guess it’s actually me.” As the lesser demon struggles, Satan can make out a garbled “Please!” as he sees tears leave the other’s eyes.

Please?

PLEASE?

What could this pathetic excuse of a demon, this wretch, this absolute shitstain be thinking that begging “please” would help get him out of this? This situation that he only had himself to blame, for daring to think that he could outwit Satan. The flames that danced atop wrath’s form grew brighter, hotter, larger -- and he unhooks his claw from the demon's tongue to instead grab hold of his jaw once more and rip it clean off his skull. Blood gurgles up and spills from the deceitful demon’s open cavity of a throat, muffling his continued screams which only sounded like music to Wrath’s ears.

Rage overflowed through every fiber of Satan’s being, his mind now clouded and his vision blurred among the inferno. His blood boils as he descends into madness, a flurry of demonic curses escaping through grotesque fangs until words become unintelligible screams that shake the stone walls in his fury.

Idiot, idiot, idiot, IDIOT!

The sharp bony horn that now protrudes from Wrath’s forehead is lowered to skewer an eye, then the other. Piece by piece, Thalbus is torn apart -- claws ripping apart limbs, teeth tearing out his organs, horn impaling muscle, tail grinding bone -- all while the smell of burnt flesh fills the room as flames lick at the remains. The sickening sounds of the lesser demon’s body being completely obliterated fill the otherwise empty chamber, a song of violence.

He is long dead before Satan is finished with him, painting the walls and floor with ichor and tissue and ashes of whatever else comprised the once corporeal form of Cabariel’s duke.

Ah, right. Cabariel …

Deep breath, count to ten … and Satan feels his form shift again, sharp edges folding away as his more human form comes into place. The haze in his mind is gone, the flames put out, the wrath forcibly buried back down as rage subsides. He is himself again, he thinks, for obviously this was who he was and not that beast that had just reared its head.

Yes. Himself.

He walks over to the corner of the room, deftly picking up the nearly stolen artifact. Rage begins to unfurl within him once more, but he must keep it at bay. This problem had been taken care of, disaster avoided. Cabariel would not be pleased to know that he was short a duke, but that was the least of Satan’s worries -- after all, Cabariel should be glad that it wasn’t his throat Satan came for next.

Another look around the room, and a tired sigh leaves the Avatar’s lips. He had purposely lured Thalbus away from the Royal Archives, but still ...

… Barbatos was not going to be pleased.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me! #obey me shall we date #obey me satan #om! satan #obey me fic #demons being demons #series: a demon's nature #the all encompassing [mod] cosmos #more of the angry wrathful satan that the game needs to give us #hhh I hope this is okay #he's the last of the bros for now though I'm gonna go back and do a second asmo one too #since these all got ... longer ...

[soggy-platee]

It Goes Both Ways

Rating: M (Somewhat graphic talk of injury)

Pairing: Din x GN!Reader

Summary: You take a hit for Din, feelings and angst ensue.

Note: Hello sorry this is literally all angst, a tiny bit of fluff. I can't stop myself, I just love the whole "feelings being revealed through injury" trope. If anyone wants, I was thinking about a smutty part two to this one! Let me know. Also, y'all were so kind with Doubt, so thank you!

...

The fight went bad from the second it started.

Well, before that, if you were being completely honest. Everyone in the cantina had been too still, too tense when you and Mando entered. It was so clearly unnatural for the usually boisterous atmosphere of a Nevarro night.

Yet somehow, you both missed it.

The kid was really to blame. He had been a ball of energy all night, practically bouncing off the walls of the hull while you and his father did everything in your power to get him to calm down. You were both annoyed and tired as your set out to meet the contact, should have known there was no hope of success. When the eight men in the cantina converged on you both, you were immediately thrust into the defensive. Exactly where you knew Mando hated to be. You had taken down several attackers, using your blade to slash and hack until it broke off in the chest cavity of some blue creature. You had lost just a moment as you attempted to wrench the hopeless blade from the now lifeless corpse, but it was enough time for a rough tug to pull you to the ground and a heavy weight to climb on top of you. You remembered the previous night almost fondly as opposed to the impossibly tight grip on your throat now.

Your fingers dug into the hand around your throat to no avail as the man- a Twi’lek, you now realized- bared his teeth down at you. Hot breath brushed over your face and you grimaced even further. Eyes rolling, you managed to steal a glance at Mando who was engaged in his own battle. There were two on him, one managing to get Mando’s arms behind his back in a tight hold while the other approached with a raised blade as you looked on. Fear shot through you at his vulnerable position and you doubled your efforts.

Your fingernails finally caught purchase on the arm that held you down at the same moment you bucked your hips with everything you had. A hiss came from above as you managed to pull one leg above the hips holding you down. Twisting hard, you flipped the man into the floor at full speed, his cheek cracking against the hard dirt. On your hands and knees now, you whipped your head up to see the armed man raise his blade and prepare to strike at Mando’s exposed neck. The fabric of his cowl would do nothing to stop the glowing, razor-sharp weapon that was mear inches from him now.

You shot up, your boots digging into the dirt as you righted yourself directly into a sprint. It happened in a split second. You reached Mando just as the blade completed its arc, half-throwing, and half-pressing yourself in front of his armored chest in a protective stance. You followed your first instinct, forearm coming up to block the blow.

White-hot pain bloomed along your arm, reaching all the way to the bone, as the blade cut through you like butter. Gasping at the initial shock, you managed to get a gut punch into the man in front of you before dropping to one knee. You clutched your forearm, trying your hardest to not collapse and curl up right then and there. You dimly registered fighting directly behind you through closed eyes, hoping to God it was Mando dealing with the last guy.

No offense to him, but you felt like you had done enough.

A wave of nausea came over you as you dared to open your eyes, taking in the bloody mess that was now your arm. The cut wasn’t overly long, but it was deep. You knew you had felt it hit bone, but jeez, you didn’t think you would be able to see it.

A blaster shot from behind you gave your enough adrenaline to rise on unsteady feet, turning to see Mando with his arm still raised, blaster smoke rising from the body of the final hostile in the room.

He turned to you with an immediacy that made you sway, the speed of the movement causing another wave of nausea to rise up. You doubled over as he approached, pressing your good hand to the back of your mouth. He was mumbling something as he approached you, Mando’a you would realize later. His hands found your hunched shoulders as you finally heard a word you recognized well,

“Cyare-hey, hey, look at me-”

With your hand still planted firmly over your mouth, you glanced up at him. You were taken aback by just how shook up he looked, even underneath the armor. His hands were tight around your shoulders, almost bruising you with their intensity. His chest was heaving, but it couldn’t be from the fight now. His voice nearly shook.

The pain almost blinding you was nothing compared to the icing feeling that crept down your spine at the sheet panic he was radiating. It wasn’t right, you had never seen him simply break like this.

You had seen him trembling underneath you, above you as he came, but he was still always in control when you were together. This was different.

This was frightening.

His hand pulled up to cup your jaw as you faced him, tilting it back and forth, frantically searing you even though the source of your pain was obvious. You wanted to say something, anything, to get him to calm down. But when you managed to pull your hand from your mouth, all that escaped was a low groan of pain.

Well that didn’t work, you thought faintly before your face collided with Mando’s chestplate, blackness overtaking you a second after.

…

The swaying was what woke you. A constant, fast motion shook you all over. Most pertinently, it was shaking the hell out of your arm. Something was wrapped around you, holding you close to a hard metal surface.

Why did it hurt again?

Ah yes, the cut.

The cut. The fight.

Mando.

You forced your eyes open, instinctually pulling away from whatever was retraining you. A gruff voice spoke to you as you turned your eyes to face the dark fabric of Mando’s chin.

“Stop.”

His faceplate didn’t even turn to you, just one word directed outward to the now-dark street ahead of you. He was carrying you through the town bridal style, your damaged arm tucked up into your chest as your calves swung with each footfall.

The memories of the night flooded back to your in greater detail, mainly your injury. An injury, you now noticed, hurt a lot less than it had...a few minutes ago? An hour?

Your confusion formed a question. Fighting the dryness in your voice, you huffed out, “How long was I out?”

“Not long.”

Another short answer, again not facing you.

A frown tugged on your lips, brows furrowing. Had something happened you didn’t remember? Why was he suddenly pissed at you? Finally, you glanced down at your arm. Wrapped in several bacta patches, secured with more bandages.

When the hell did that happen?

“Cantina had supplies”

Sometimes his ability to read you pissed you off.

You finished the trip in silence, doing your best to let off a pissed-off vibe. It was childish. You knew how to communicate, you knew Mando hardly ever did. But you were tired, hurt, and you didn’t know why that was such a huge problem to him. You had saved his ass, anyway.

You should be the pissed one if anything.

You approached the Crest’s ramp and you prepared to be set down, tensing your legs and starting to push off his chest with your good arm.

His grip simply remained firm, however, showing no indication he would be letting you down. You twisted your head in an attempt to look him in the visor, confused as all hell. His face remained stubbornly to front, much to your continued irritation.

You pushed off him a few more futile times, wiggling your hips in an attempt to loosen his hand around your knees.

Nothing.

You just slumped in his arms then, waiting for what seemed like the world’s slowest ramp to hit the ground.

He stomped into the ship and didn’t set you down until the ramp started to raise. His demeanor still remained stony, but he set you down with a gentleness only reserved for you and the child. He steadied you as your feet hit the ground, but his hands pulled away as soon as he confirmed you could stand alone.

Before you could even speak, he was gone, heading to the ladder of the cockpit.

That was it, you had absolutely had enough.

You threw your good hand in the air before shouting across the silent hull.

“Yeah, thanks for the ride, I’ll just go fuck off then.”

It wasn’t your best line, but you were pissed. And confused.

And hurt more than anything.

To your credit, the words were enough to stop him, hand on the first rung of the ladder. You stood expectantly, breathing heavily from your words and your injury.

Silence.

You made an incredulous sound, turning around and folding your arms to the best of your ability.

“Leave it to me to fuck up and save your ass, my bad, it won’t happen again.”

You winced as the words left your mouth, it was mean. It was terrible. You didn’t mean it. You would lay down your life for him at any moment and he knew it. Well, you thought he knew it. You thought he would do the same for you, too. But here he was, acting like you were a liability. Like he didn’t care about you at all. It made you defensive. Maybe you misread things between you too. Maybe you were just sex to him. Maybe you didn’t go any further.

That was fine, you could handle that. You just needed him to tell you, and not do whatever this was.

Leather creaked as his hand tightened on the metal with your words, but silence persisted. The fight in your was waning as your thoughts continued to run wild.

Your next words came out more defeated than aggressive, “If I’m an issue, just tell me. I’m gone.”

That sparked something in him, hand flying off the ladder as he whirled to face you. The movement caught you off guard, combined with the weakened state it made you stumble back a step Then another, then more as the suddenly fervent Mandaoliran stalked toward you across the hull. Your back hit the wall before he finally stopped a foot away from you, helmet tilted down at you as his shoulders rose and fell with deep, ragged breaths.

His helmet searched you, looking you up and down while his hands came to hover near your shoulder. He didn’t touch you, however, simply grasping at air several times in contemplation before fisting them once more at his side.

“Of course you’re an issue, you are the issue -my issue.”

His tone was unreadable, half-angry, half-desperate.

You gaped like a fish in his face, trying to make sense of what the hell was going on. Where was this coming from?

Your silence rushed him forward. Pushing a finger into your chest, he rambled, “You did fuck up- saving me. I didn’t want you- you shouldn’t have- I didn’t need it.” He spat the final words, but there was something underneath it, far too similar to his tone earlier, his panic.

Still, his words reignited your anger and confusion. “What do you mean you “didn’t need it”. That knife was going for your neck!”

He threw his head back, hands coming up to grip the sides of his helmet.

“Exactly! A knife which you jumped in front of, with no plan, no defense. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I didn’t want you to die, idiot! What the hell did you think I was thinking?”

He stumbled, whatever retort he had dying soundlessly on his tongue. Then, he spun from you, crossing his arms over his chest as he did. His next words were quiet, dismissive but firm.

“I didn’t ask for that. Never do that again.”

You literally could not comprehend his train of thought. Did he want you to just let him die? You grabbed his shoulder with your good hand, trying to force him to face you to no avail.

“You don’t get a say, you don’t have to ask. Don’t you get it? If I want to take a hit for you, that’s on me.”

He rounded on you once more, helmet coming so close that it nearly made contact with your forehead. “You don’t get to make that choice”, he growled, low and urgent.

Oh, now that was fucking golden.

“What? I don’t get to make my own choices with my own life? Is that what it’s come to now? Clearly, you don’t trust me, but I at least thought you could afford me my own autonomy.”

Finally, his hands came up and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you with intensity as he shouted in your face.

“Would you just listen to me? I won’t- cannot lose you. Not for me. Not ever.”

Your shoulders tensed in his grip and your eyes shot wide. His words startled you, the meaning washing over you in steps. They first relived you, convinced you that you felt the same way about each other, regardless of the fact this was the first time you were both voicing such outright feelings. But they also struck that same anger in you.

“So you get to protect me but I can’t do that same for you?”. Your voice was calmer now, eyes searching his visor for some sign he understood how unfair- if touching- his words were.

His hands loosened on your arms, shoulders dropping from their tense state. His helmet dropped from your gaze, swinging loosely before he sighed, “...Yes.”

His voice upturned at the end, almost in question of his own words. Of course. He knew how stupid it sounded.

Anger left you at his defeated look, head hanging between his shoulders. You raised your good arm, slowly placing your fingertips on the bottom of his helmet. He tensed for a moment at the touch, but you pushed gently enough on the metal that he simply followed your guidance. His visor came to face you once more, the blackness reflecting the look of concern in your eyes. You could only imagine that his held the same look.

Gloved fingers found your bad arm, still drawn tightly to your chest. They brushed over the patches gingerly, making their way to your hand and intertwining with your own digits. Your eyes fluttered at the touch, the familiar feeling melting away the residual pain like water down a stream.

He sighed heavily, before speaking with a subdued sincerity.

“You make me so fucking scared, pretty. I’ve never-I didn’t know that feeling until you and the kid. I can’t focus on anything else. I can’t lose you- can’t live without you.”

His fingers tightened around yours as he spoke, and your soft smile was reflected in silver back at you.

“Do you not think I feel the same thing, feel the same way about you?”

He gave your hand a squeeze before breathing, “...I do.”

Your smile faltered at his admission, worry coloring your next words.

“Then why do you think I could live without you?”

It was times like these you cursed his helmet, his creed. You wanted- needed to know that your words were getting across to him, that he understands just how fucking much he meant to you. While his face was unreadable, a short breath through the modulator and another sharp squeeze of your hand told you that you had hit the mark.

You took a deep breath before saying, “Listen. We protect each other. Equally. That’s how this works. You can’t stop me. So if you want to keep me out of harm’s way, then you have to keep your own metal-ass safe, yeah?”

You swore you heard a chuckle from underneath your helmet at your comment, and you broke into a grin. You pulled your good hand from his and placed it behind his helmet, tugging it toward you and resting the cool metal on your forehead. His hand mimicked your position, coming up to intertwine with the hair at the base of your neck.

You let your eyes slip shut before saying, “Do you understand now, dummy?”

His hand gripped your hair tighter, pressing your closer. His words were thick when he spoke, “I do.”

You released your grip on him, righting yourself, but his hand simply slid down your back. He still held you close when he said, “And I’m sorry… for the way I acted. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. I was just…”

He faded off, but you knew where he was headed. You chuckled and flashed another smile, “It’s alright, make it up to me by taking the next knife, huh?”

The usual huff of laughter at your stupid comments didn’t come however, his helmet simply tipped down to take you in, hand tightening on your lower back.

“Actually…” he started, voice growing lower, softer, “I had another idea about how to make it up to you”

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #pedro pascal #din djarin

[ilcaeryx]

Cultist [Sukuna/Reader] - NSFW

Summary: You have one god on this earth.

Tags: Sukuna/Reader, NSFW, Smut, Humor, Size kink, Cock Warming, Body Worship,

Words: Cirka 2k

Author’s Note: What’s up, sluts? I’m back. This is NSFW, so beware.

---

Sukuna did regularly mention that domination and conquest were his pastime hobbies and you would tentatively add that he adhered to them with slave-like zealotry. Whenever he insulted Itadori Yuji by calling him simple-minded, your heart ached with the desire to tell him that he was not any greater regarding his obsessions with strength. However, your self-preservation kept you alive, since a bitch that talks back to Sukuna is a bitch that gets their head separated from their body, after all.

Having sex with Sukuna is somehow leagues safer than speaking to him, you thought, gaze surveying how the apex of his back muscles cast shades upon the trenches of his spine. Inhalation, the shadows grew and deepened. Exhalation, the light re-conquered its territory. You suspected he never slept, even though he physically seemed in deep slumber. His arms were splayed on his pillow, face turned away from you.

You had self-preservation to save your ass 99 percent of the time – this time was probably that one percent where he would snap.

“Sukuna,” you called out, very lightly stroking his biceps with your nails. No answer, but his arm muscles flexed subtly as he moved his arm.  “I want my side of the bed back. I can’t sleep on this side.”

You let out a shriek when his hand shot out at you, palm plastered over your lips. The sharp edge of his index nail hovered uncomfortably close to your eye, the thumb nail piercing your cheek. Out of reflex, your dug your fingertips into his upper arm and attempted to pull away from his show of force.

Sukuna turned his head to face you. His eyes glared with disinterest, though his grasp weakened slightly.

“You’ve been plenty loud during the night; why must you continue now?” he asked, squeezing your cheeks together to allow you to speak.

“I’ve slept like three hours max,” you said, ignoring his question.

“That is not my problem.” He let go of your face to return to his original position. “Go find somewhere else to sleep and I shall wake you whenever I have need of you.”

What an absolute dickhead. This was your bed, not his domination playground.

You released him and patted your face with your fingers carefully. There were no stinging scratches left behind, which was good considering his reasoning that if ‘you weren’t bleeding out, you didn’t need help’ would leave you with annoying scabs everywhere. Why you were even fucking this guy was beyond you, honestly. This was one of the top 3 worst life choices you had ever made.

You slid towards him beneath the covers and supported your upper body with your ribcage on his lower back and elbows on his upper back. His body heat intermingling with yours gave you a dull ache, from behind your breastbone flowing into a tidepool in the pit of your stomach. After pushing your hair to one side of your neck, you lowered yourself onto him. Your lips wet and breath hot across his skin, you blew softly before planting a kiss below his shoulder blade. Had it been another person under you, you would have had the gratification of seeing goosebumps forming across the area.

“Sukuna…” you said, barely audible between his skin and your lips.

The King of Curses arose from his relaxed position. “Did you not listen or are you an idiot?”

“Bit of both, to be perfectly honest.” You pinched a tuft of his hair strands between two fingers, pulling gently. “You don’t need to do anything – I just want your attention.”

He issued you a warning glare, daring you to pull some weird shit on him.

You shrugged one of your shoulders and gave him a lopsided smile. “It’s not like I can hurt you, right? I don’t have sharp claws.” To testify, you released his hair, buried your nails below his neck and dragged them down his back in one stroke. Four faint lines were left behind, a stylistic contrast to his dark markings. “I don’t have superhuman strength or speed.” You felt the muscular ridges above his ribs, your fingers travelling up and down each rib. “At my worst, I’m just very obnoxious.”

“How self-aware,” he mocked and laughed half-heartedly. He seemed to enjoy your tiny monologue, judging by the slight raise of his eyebrows. “Continue.”

His approval increased your confidence. While you scoured your brain for whatever concept that might amuse or interest him, you broke eye contact and directed your thumb to pad the black line running along his back. You followed it up to the crest of his shoulders and pulled yourself up over his torso. A low growl hummed beneath you, indicating that perhaps you were pushing your luck. When you brought your left hand down his chest the sound reverberated through your being, reminding you that you were not the apex predator in here. His eagerness showed as he willingly moved his hand into your range when you struggled to reach it.

“Look,” you said, just as eager to sate his curiosity, “at the difference.”

With his attention on your hand enveloping his, you settled your head on his shoulder, finally eye to eye with the King of Curses. You shifted so that your palms met. Even when ignoring his nails, his long fingers and thick wrist eclipsed yours. Finger pads with rough callouses created in combat, the evidence of a reign of lasting a millennium. You could feel the wisdom beneath your soft pads; you could’ve devoted your entire life to warfare and your hands would still not understand it the way his do.

“You know, I never used to consider myself a small person,” you lied, your voice perfectly stable, “but now I am not so sure anymore. It is quite overwhelming.”

Sukuna’s head tilted towards yours, almost tenderly grazing his cheek against your jawline. The movement gave you shivers, causing your toes to curl. You had no option but trusting his self-control when he dove below your jaw and put his lips to your neck. He sucked the flesh between his lips, occasionally tasting with his tongue.

You sighed, content for the brief attention you had earned. Sukuna’s heartbeat rate did not increase nor decrease beneath your hand, his chest just as firm. He detached from your neck, his saliva cooling down that particular spot. You were on the brink of complaining when the world swirled around and your back hit the mattress, your chest and stomach feeling the room’s chill without Sukuna’s body heat.

Sukuna was not playing around anymore; he aligned his forearms beside your face and blocked off whatever else existed outside with his mere presence, lips taut and eyes alert. He situated his torso on top of yours and separated your thighs with his knee. Not close enough to grind on.

“Tell me more,” he stared you down. “What does being completely outmatched feel like?”

You wondered if he meant how it physically felt or how the emotional part of being outmanned and outgunned felt like. Considering how his empathic ability was low-functioning to non-existing, you wanted to bet your money on a physical description… Yet, your tongue prepared to tell him about the terror and the uncertainty. It was not wise to divulge such details to Sukuna.

Scheherazade’s silver tongue might have saved her life a thousand and one times but not everyone’s talent was located in their mouth cavity. Like always, your hands bought you more time to think, to evaluate your words. You tentatively reached for his collarbones before changing your mind and guiding one hand to his lips. Perhaps he had meant to kiss your fingertips, perhaps he had yet another inquiry but his lower lip separated from his upper one and you cautiously pulled it downwards. A predator’s teeth greeted you.

“I can’t say it without sounding lame,” you said and crossed your arms across your chest. “Don’t laugh.”

Almost immediately, Sukuna leaned his weight on one forearm, allowing him to use the other to restrain your hand against the mattress. “I assure you,” he said, his eyes staring lazily at you, lids half-down, “you are not that funny.”

Suddenly, you wished Itadori Yuji would regain his consciousness to not have to deal with this asshole. Kind, encouraging Yuji would worship your existence. Perhaps you would eventually have learned to worship him in turn. ‘Learning’ being the key word, of course. You would fumble in the dark while attempting to appreciate him. This seemed like a good idea for about three seconds and then you returned to your occult god.

“I want to be inside you.” Sukuna, no longer interested in your thoughts, showed more interest in your body. He seldomly spoke of his wants, rousing your curiosity and – honestly – your arousal. The thigh between your leg shifted closer to your mound, touching your nether lips softly.

“You’re so demanding,” you complained, ending your sentence with a deep sigh. “You want me to be quiet, you want me to talk, you want to be inside me – will you ever be satisfied?”

You rolled your hips upwards in a slow movement, enjoying yourself as your lips parted against his flesh. It did not please you enough, so you continued to alleviate yourself.

“No.” His voice  was unusually quiet. His lower lip brushed yours as he spoke. “Do you think you deserve it?”

You moved your chin downwards, the movement nearly imperceptible for someone who was not expecting it.

“I agree… if it’ll keep you quiet,” he said, releasing your arm to steady himself above you.

And you did keep quiet. Although he remained stone-faced, Sukuna seemed attentive to the way you opened your mouth and frowned in frustration, his crimson gaze traversing across your face.

He angled his hips downwards, pressuring your clit as you ground against him. You had never been more thankful for the things he did than when he let you use his body as a tool to get off. Each upwards motion elected a pang of pleasure, a beach in ebb and flow.

You don’t know for how long he tolerated your grinding but your lower body ached and his thigh was slick with your fluid when he removed his leg from you, its absence pulsating throughout your stomach. Despite your fear that he would push you away, you grabbed onto his neck to heave yourself against him, anything to regain that comfort. The relief that accompanied the heartbeat after he brought you up with him to sit upright lightened your entire being. His hands felt excruciatingly hot, almost unbearably so, on your ribcage.

Although you felt ready for him, your grip on his neck remained hard as he lifted you up above his cock. Sukuna descended you slightly, his tip bulging at your entrance. You knew your limit and didn’t hesitate to sink onto him, a movement less gentle than you wished due to your legs being wrapped around his waist. Your breath was uneven, hitching up whenever you strained against him. Avoiding getting your insides impaled by a guy’s dick was surprisingly hard labour. Eventually you settled at his base, a sense of completion glowing off you.

There were no comforting touches or encouraging words from Sukuna, whose tranquil expression made him seem more like Yuji than himself. His eyes almost shut, jaw relaxed... This was the alternate universe version of Sukuna, a man who did not lust for domination and who would settle down with his loved ones for an eventless life. 

Hearing your dumb fantasies echo in your head, you rubbed your eyes with your knuckles until you saw stars. What idiocy. You had to cease these daydream scenarios or you’d be in deep shit in the future. You were an atrocious cultist.

---

I hope everyone enjoyed this. If you liked this, please give a comment/like/reblog. I listened to the Professor Tox remix of LOONA’s Girl Front and Ariana Grande’s Love Me Harder while writing this.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna #jjk #jjk reader insert

[goldentournesol]

to be true, to not be true (part 1)

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: early in y/n’s and spencer’s relationship, y/n fears the growing distance between them, although what seemed to be possible infidelity, is actually much worse–for spencer.

Length: 2.9k

A/N: i wrote this in collaboration with one of my favorite writers on here, Mia over at @mggpleasedontlookhere​. She is so wonderful and hopefully you can see both of our writing styles here! 

masterlist

The sunlight streaming through the windows made the hairs on my skin dance in glee, although it was the soft breeze invading the space that contrasted the radiant warmth. An equilibrium was achieved–a needed balance. The same can be said about the nerves crawling about my stomach and the naive excitement that made me light-headed whenever I was around Spencer. I glanced up at him from where my head lay in his lap. The reflected glow from the TV danced across his features making my heart jolt. My stare caught his attention and he sent me a small smile, his hand leaving traces in my hair. It was his day off and I had no problem spending it in suffocating proximity with him.

“This is nice,” I breathed, leaning back into his soft touch. He hummed in response, almost in contentment, if not for the moment his eyes seemed far off, entangled in a distant thought. It was so brief, I might have missed it. His job took a lot from him and I knew that, which is why I never pushed him. Instead, I let the subtle aroma of morning coffee and fresh linen confine my senses, leaving me oblivious to reality.

Although not a few moments later, the ping from Spencer’s phone burst the fantastical bubble that surrounded us. My eyes lingered on the cartoon characters plastered on the screen but I couldn’t help noticing the way Spencer’s fingers would thump rhythmically against the floor. Adjacent to his palm, rested his phone, revealing several notifications as it came alive. Albeit I paid no mind to their context given I was enamored by the picture of me on his homescreen. A faint smile graced my lips at the observation, feeling a wave of warmth rush my cheeks.

“I wonder who that is,” I teased, referring to the image. Spencer must have misunderstood my point of reference, hastily explaining that new language that Morgan had introduced him to through text messages.

“Spencer, using emojis does not constitute a new language.”

“Considering its context, I would argue it is–I mean look at hieroglyphics!” I covered my face in amusement, running my hands over my eyes. A sharp exhale left my lungs as my chest filled with contagious giggles. It seems that I was too consumed in my fit of laughter to notice Spencer stealthily concealing the device and turning off his ringer.

“First of all, hieroglyphics is a formal writing system-”

“And does that not ‘constitute’ a portion of language? Also, isn’t texting a writing system in itself?” His lips formed into a sly smirk, thinking he’d gotten the best of me.

“You’re right in the way that hieroglyphics is part of the language, however it’s all but the ‘expression’ of that language.” I debated, gesturing to the air as I explained my point. For a moment our eyes met, and I could feel my playful resolve melt away under his gaze. Despite the pause in my confidence, my stubbornness shone through.

“All I heard was that I was right,” he jested, tickling the side of my waist. I jumped at his mischief, collapsing into pleas and begs as he continued his assault at my skin. My stomach churned in delight as my hands attempted to pry him off of me, the premise of our conversation vanishing into air like wisps of smoke.

-

Spencer’s days off were becoming increasingly rare, I’d barely seen him in the last two weeks, but we’ve managed to salvage enough time between cases for a date. The excitement buzzed through my veins as the clock ticked closer to 7 pm. I was growing restless in the apartment, obsessively checking my phone for the time. Spencer is usually right on time, if not early. Dread and anxiety clogged up my throat as I waited for him. For hours, call after call would be sent straight to voicemail. The weather outside seemed to be in tandem with the way I felt. The rain was as unforgiving as the tears that striped my face.

I was never one to hold a grudge. But it happened once, then it happened twice. Slowly, it became a habit and it was impossible to reach him.

I guess date nights on Thursdays were now obsolete.

He came over to my apartment maybe once whenever he was in town and even then he was nearly unrecognizable. His shy, loving demeanor was replaced by explosive irritability and general unease. I wished he’d just talk to me, but he continued to brush me off. He was being distant and strange, his behavior was so unlike him. Knowing him though, he was probably too stressed or busy to get around to doing simple tasks like eating a balanced meal. Spencer can be quite scatterbrained, and I hadn’t seen him in around a week. So, around lunch time, I made Spencer a healthy meal packed with proteins and veggies and decided to pop into the BAU and drop it off. It felt like a good way to cheer him up. Maybe we’d have lunch together at the park he always liked to visit. It wasn’t that far from headquarters. Hell, I’d even eat lunch with him at his desk at this point.

The walk into the BAU was strangely nerve wracking, I could feel my heart in my throat. I had an uneasy feeling in my gut but I took a deep breath and pushed the heavy glass doors open. My eyes scanned the bullpen for my boyfriend but I couldn’t find him. Standing there in confusion, I was only snapped out of my trance when someone bumped into me from behind.

“I’m so sorry–oh, it’s you! Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?” JJ said, closing the file she held in her hands and wrapping me in a one-armed hug.

“Hey JJ! I was looking for Spence, I got him lunch, but I can’t seem to find him anywhere? Do you know where he is?” I said as I pulled back from the hug, she began to say something but was interrupted.

“Woah hey, sunshine! I was wondering why it suddenly got so bright in here.” The deep voice of none other than Derek Morgan came from beside us and he was, of course, donning his signature cheeky grin. I couldn’t help but grin back, even though my chest was nearly caving in on itself.

“Did Spence come in today?” JJ asked Morgan, whose brows immediately furrowed.

“No, I haven’t seen him today. I think he might be coming in late, I’m not sure. He’s been kind of off, lately.” Morgan said, eyes searching my own for an answer.

“He has, hasn’t he?” I exclaimed and the two nodded in agreement, “I’ve been worried about him, maybe all that emoji-talk finally got to him.” I laughed slightly, but stopped when I found Morgan’s expression shift.

“What do you mean? I stopped trying to explain emojis to him like months ago, if the genius doesn’t get it, he doesn’t get it.” Morgan shrugged, unknowingly allowing the literal caving in of my chest to take place. JJ noticed the change in me immediately.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” She asked in her usual caring manner, but I could barely hear her over the rushing of my blood in my ears.

“Nothing, nothing. Um, if he comes in today, can you just give him this?” I dismissed the conversation and handed over the brown bag with the lunch I made, disguising the sharp exhale that left my lungs. Before JJ had the opportunity to utilize her profiling skills, I gave both of them a cordial nod and left the office.

My steps felt heavier with every collision against the tile, albeit the loud thumping of my heart drowned out reality around me. My mind warped itself around irrational thoughts as my loyalty to Spencer attempted to retaliate against the invaders. The concept of Spencer as dubious and sly fell foreign to me. However, that lack of knowledge only added fuel to the imminent blaze that engulfed my head and stomach.

I swarmed with alternate realities, trying to make sense of the unknown. If Spencer was aware of my method of defining a solution, I would’ve been scolded by my naivety and illogical thinking. Oh to be a scientist–to have a mind like his. It’s a gift yet a heavy burden to carry. Is that it? Was that it? Does he not believe I’m capable of understanding a mind like his? Was I stupid? No. He had shared intimate momentos of his life before, so what was it? What can I not offer…What can I not promise to make him drift away like this?

It must have been me, right? I must’ve hit a boundary the last time we spoke! Or was it his work? No. By the time my thoughts stopped buzzing, I realized my feet carried me to the park I intended to visit earlier with Spencer. An unfamiliar pang hit my chest, sending reverbing waves throughout the cavity. A sort of ache rested in the core of my heart–something I didn’t think I would feel when reflecting on my relationship with Spencer–my Spencer. I guess I was so used to the warm bubble he fabricated that I forgot how cold the real world was.

Was that it? Did I stop being that for him too?

The thought of the slow degradation of our relationship sent a chilling shock through my veins while I swallowed pins and needles. My hand rested on a park bench next to me, letting myself use the wooden beams as support. Looking out into the far pond in the center of the park, I pulled myself to take a seat. The wind began to whistle through the trees, and the lake of glitter–the nickname I gave whenever the sun casted its glow onto the surface–lost all of its beauty. Crickets didn’t even dare to sing their usual melody and birds flew south to their homes. The breaths I took kept going nowhere, dissolving into nothing even though my chest expanded and retracted.

I pulled at the ends of my sleeves, tucking my knees into my chest as the air grew crisp. Questions of infidelity and unfounded justifications collided creating a mass of insatiable curiosity. My head coincided with entropy–it enjoyed the chaos–until suddenly it went blank. Every tether that kept me grounded vanished, my consciousness going into autopilot. I didn’t even realize the burn that resided in my eyelids or the wet streaks coating my cheeks–maybe from the dryness or something more. It was only the small drop of water landed on the back of my palm that pushed me out of the addicting trance.

Another one had landed on my forehead. And another one. And another one. I cringed as I felt the water drip from my head to the crevice of my ear. The clouds began to rumble a somber tune as it began to rain. Plucking myself from the bench, I made no hurry to make it back to the house. In a way, the droplets cascading the skin distracted me–seemingly blissful compared to the former events.

Once again, my feet held a prominent consciousness as it was the only part of me that was stable, leading me to the doorstep of my apartment complex. With what felt like a last ditch effort, I checked my phone for any new messages from Spencer. My heart lurched seeing a new notification pop up. To my surprise, it was from him.

With a deep breath and newfound hope, I unlocked the device, taking a moment to gaze at the picture of I and Spencer on the screen, before proceeding. My shoulders dropped, the tight squirming in my stomach halting. A hopeful smile crept on the corners of my lips, the previous distrust dissipating from my unreliable mind as I read the words displayed in front of me.

“Date night tomorrow?”

-

Tomorrow night couldn’t come quick enough. It somehow felt like I was holding my breath the entire day until I finally saw him. He was apologetic and sweet enough that it quieted my anxieties for a while. If he held any guilt or shame, it wasn’t apparent, or maybe he hid it well. Or maybe I was being ridiculous and reading far too much into things that could be circumstantial. But this was Spencer…my Spencer, the tenderhearted, gentle soul who made way too many corny physics jokes.

Dinner went by much smoother than I expected, but I still felt like there were things unsaid. The words felt lodged in my throat, almost like an itch I couldn’t reach. Either by mindless habit or by sheer deliberacy, we ended up in our favorite park. The very park that I found myself running to in a fit of frustration yesterday. Our feet seemed to know the way of our usual path along the pavement. I wondered briefly if there was a place I stepped in twice without noticing it. There was a lull in conversation and before I realized it, the words escaped me stealthily.

“Hey, Spence?” I started, and he took his attention off his shoes to look at me, “I, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.” The way the words stumbled ungracefully from my lips had me cringing. He lifted a brow in intrigue and caught my eye, silently profiling me and my nervous behavior.

“Anything, love.” The use of the amorous term caught me off guard and I had to swallow under his intense gaze. I felt myself open my mouth, but the words died on my tongue as the blaring of his ringtone took the place of my voice between us. It was almost as if the scratchy melody startled him because the way he snatched himself away from me to look at his phone was worrisome.

His brows bunched together as he took a look at it, “I’m sorry, I have to take this.”

Without waiting for my confirmation, he pressed the phone to his ear and took a few large steps away from me, as if the space would give him more privacy. I suddenly felt extremely exposed without him by my side.

The emptiness beside me lingered of his scent, almost mocking me, the words constricting my tongue. If I had a second longer, maybe the phone call would’ve been obsolete, maybe for the first time in a long time he would’ve been selfishly mine, even for another moment. I found myself suffocating in the same place I was yesterday like some poetic injustice. Perhaps I’m just a marionette, dangling from loose strings as the universe had their way with me. Frankly that would be less upsetting than watching Spencer slip through my fingers, knowing that it was possibly me who sealed that fate, and not some otherworldly being. It would’ve been my doing, and that’s something I’m not yet ready to realize.

Maybe it was my undying curiosity or growing twinge in my chest every second passed that led me to consult the moral figures weighing down my shoulders. At two opposing extremes, they debated the right course of action–or if doing the right thing was even the course of action to consider. Surprisingly in the end, it was my impulsivity that answered for me, wasting no time to stipulate consequences.

I shook off the twisting feeling in my stomach, pushing myself off in Spencer’s direction. I kept justifying my actions by telling myself that all I would be doing is checking on him, although the underlying motive was nothing under disguise. I whispered the same mantra to myself with every inch closer. I gritted my teeth as the antsy sensation traveled to my shoulders, slowing my steps to contemplate my reasoning.

What am I doing? A harsh exhale of detest left my lungs, leaving a light yet deserved burn in my esophagus. It seemed incredulous to me that I was willing to eavesdrop on my own boyfriend, although it didn’t seem like that minutes ago. I bit the inside of my cheek in shame, turning myself around.

Has this all been in my head? No, it can’t. Then why would he lie? He wouldn’t, but he did. Confusion set deep within me, however it was my guilt that left an everlasting mark. Maybe Spencer had his reasons, he would never deliberately fib–at least the Spencer I knew would never. But what if that’s it? Did I really know Spencer that well? The world around me closed in rapidly, my senses overwhelmed. Did I make him lie? It would make sense considering my recent possessiveness. Did he see that? Did I drive him away?

I bit down on my bottom lip, threatening to break the skin. I ran my hand through my hair several times, taking a few calming breaths to compose myself. No, I can’t think like that. This is Spencer, he’s my Spe–no, maybe he never was mine?

Unable to contain my contradicting thoughts any longer, I shifted around with a newfound determination. Pushing the bile building up at the bottom of my stomach, I prepared to march my way to him. My body set aflame with feigned confidence, hopefully enough to fuel the overpowering desire to know the truth.

To know whether the truth actually lied in the irrationality of my mind

To know whether the truth lied in the coarseness of my behavior.

To know whether the truth  lied in the prospects of Spencer’s job.  

To know whether the truth-

“I guess I’ll see you on Thursday!” Spencer smiled with endearment–a smile I thought was reserved for me. “It’s a date…”

To know whether the truth was that he was no longer mine.

part 2  feedback is always appreciated!

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid one shot #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #mia <3

[crazypsychonerdstuff]

Like I said before, I don't normally write for Vikings (only because I've only just started watching it and I want to become more familiar with the characters!) not too sure how I feel about how this turned out BUT, despite the writer's block that's currently being a pain in the butt, I couldn't resist writing it, I have a massive soft spot for Floki too and I may have gotten a little carried away with this idea, I was intending it to be a REALLY short drabble as it is my first time posting anything other than HCs on here, I intended it to be 400-500ish words... it may have ended up just shy of 1000 (998 or smth) and I think I literally gave myself a cavity with how much floofy floofiness it contains... (well ok, it wasn't actually a cavity, but I did manage to chip a tooth when I accidentally bit a fork because I was typing it up while eating and wasn't concentrating... It hurts... nearly 24 years with no dental issues, now this! 😭)

Warnings: none unless you count excessive, tooth-rotting (well, tooth-injuring in my case!!) fluff! 

It was times like this one that made you thankful for your lover's secluded lifestyle. You were both currently sitting under a blanket of stars on the small beach not far from his home, sheltered from the worst of the elements by a large, sun-bleached  tree trunk that had been washed up on the sand of the isolated inlet during a particularly harsh storm. The waves gently lapping the shore creating an air of calm tranquillity and, despite the chill in the air this early spring night, the two of you couldn't be warmer: the fur wrapped around your shoulders effectively shielding you from the crisp breeze and Floki, curled up on a reindeer pelt, a thick woven blanket tucked snugly around him, had his head resting on your lap, his eyes closed contentedly while you stroked his short, messy hair in a silent display of affection.

You couldn't help the soft smile that spread across your face at the quiet groan of satisfaction that left his lips as you gently ran your nails over the soft skin behind his ear; "Sweetheart," your quiet utterance would have gone unheard save for the blissful quiet that encompassed the two of you.

Floki opened one kohl rimmed eye: "What is it my love?" He turned slightly so that he was lying partially on his back, opening both eyes to gaze up at you properly.  Resting his arms on top of the soft cover he lay beneath he nestled into your lap, a soft smile gracing his features as he made himself comfortable. It was at that moment that you noticed for the first time how, in the moon's ethereal glow, his irises appeared a dark stormy grey opposed to their usual deep sea blue. 

You smiled down at him unable to keep the look of adoration from your face; "Let me hold you." 

Floki grinned, his eyes twinkling with the light of the stars up above as he looked up at you before sitting up "of course my love." his approval of your request punctuated with a giggle as he all but fell into your open arms, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling the blanket up to wrap around his shoulders, the furs draped around your own engulfing his slim frame.

The next few minutes passed in comfortable silence; you had your head resting against the fallen tree trunk behind you, your fingers running absentmindedly through the boatbuilder's soft, tufty hair while he lay against your chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his head on your shoulder enabling him to nuzzle into your neck, your hair tickling his face as he presses feather light kisses to your soft skin, causing him to let out occasional quiet giggles which, in turn, brought a smile to your face. 

"Floki," You ceased your absent-minded petting. For a moment, you were unsure as to whether he'd heard you, though the small, quizzical hum that he gave a second or two later confirmed that he had.

He glanced up at you then, only to notice your eyes were not on him, but instead trained on the dark sky high above. Curious, he turned in your arms so that he could see what had drawn your attention, only to let out a high-pitched giggle on seeing for himself the myriads of tiny glimmering lights shimmering against their velvet backdrop. "The Gods are certainly smiling upon us, my love." he turned back to you, his eyes reflecting the light of the millions of otherworldly constellations: "Though nothing, in this world nor Asgard, can compare to your beauty." He brought one calloused hand up to rest on the side of your face, gently brushing your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

you were momentarily taken aback by his sweet words, though he gave you no time to respond as almost as soon as he'd spoken, he dove forward and captured your lips with his own, his other hand coming up to cup your face too, preventing you from pulling away too soon, not that he needed to; your arms wound themselves around his neck instinctively as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, your bodies leaning into each other.

Breaking apart to catch your breath, you rested your foreheads together. Floki, unable to contain his happiness, giggled quietly. His hands, that up until this point still remained on your face, dropped down to rest on your hips. One more chaste kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth and he nuzzled back into the crook of your neck; "I love you." Despite being muffled from having his face hidden, his words made your heart flutter. Though you knew he loved you, he showed you every day, he rarely voiced his affection out loud. 

You grinned giddily, your arms wrapping themselves around his neck as you leaned your weight into him causing him to fall backwards onto the furs laid out on the sand, the furs that were once shielding you from the chilly air now forgotten, the blanket that Floki had been previously wrapped up in now a tangled mess around both of you but neither of you could bring yourselves to care. "I love you too, Floki." 

The happy giggles you received in response were contagious and you soon found yourself laughing along with him as he wound his arms tightly around your waist, your own, though still remaining around his neck, arranged themselves into a more comfortable position, allowing you to snuggle down on top of him. You both knew that at some point you would have to return to the warmth and security of the wooden hut the two of you called home but for now, the two of you were content to be alone in your own little haven, the noise and commotion of the village, a distant worry that entered neither of your minds as you lay beneath the blanket of stars, wrapped tightly in each other's arms.

#drabble #My writing #vikings #floki #x reader #floki x reader #fluff #vikings x reader #vikings fanfic #floki fanfic

[sleepgarden-archive]

✨ 🌹 5, 11, & 21 🦇 ✨

Hello! 💐!!!

5. favorite little detail in a drawing you did

This one is hard I think umm! I was happy with the "hidden" detail that my snake on the dagger illustration for mitya/teodoro is supposed to look like a rib cage with clavicle/sternum and spine. Here is it beside a wip screenshot I had taken that explains better lol:

Some other actual details I like are the heart from my "nursing a cavity" illustration, the 'lace' armour detailing on my knight illustration, how I drew the fine fur on my oc Miluše's face, and ummm Judeth's bum with little sting marks from Dana 🤭 (I think it's so cute I couldn't help but include it!)

11. artist(s) that influenced/inspired your art style

It's hard to say specific artists who have influenced or inspired my *style*. I reference real people (or marble statues) if anything, and textiles are usually referenced from historical techniques etc. I also save vintage/antique botanical, classical, medical, etc art for inspo generally. I'm really blanking trying to think of someone ;_; it's obviously impossible to never be influenced by what we see and like, and I don't mean to claim my style is 100% original. But I would say it's simply evolved this way bc of the things I surround myself with and engage with. My interest in vintage/antique illustration, dolls, fashion, exposure to other artists in general etc... is what has shaped my style. Sorry it's a bit of a lame answer ;_;

I will say style aside, over the past year I've discovered many trans artists through Twitter, and a few who draw trans masculine figures in a delicate way..? Which gave me confidence and comfort in my own art. Being able to actually connect and engage with some directly too was really special ;_; I miss twitter a little now talking about it lol.

Again sorry its a little lame of an answer! But in regards to my actual style, its really hard to say!!

21. what do you want to work on the most next

Well I've got a lot of gift art in progress atm, and an ongoing commission! But after im finished I really need to find my spark again. This time last year I was drawing constantly, and I was filling sketchbooks passionately with 0 problems. I have become emotionally dependant on drawing- but due to some extreme stress irl right now it's become nearly impossible. Not to get all gloomy ^^;; I desperately want to revisit my characters and create art for them, and to resume some illustration work again. (I have about 4 emotional illustrations I will probably have to scrap bc of my art block) another lame answer 😐😑... but it is what it is sometimes. Put bluntly I want to work on "getting back into it" 🤭

Thank you for sending! I got a little wordy there ahah o<-<

#to be a little more specific and give a satisfying answer for the last one though! i have been wanting to do an illustration about #my relationship with my hair! since my hair is very important to me 🤭 #thank you again for sending these 🥺💕💞💕💞 #also in that second answer in regards to reference i qorded it that way because i see so much advice to artists #who are trying to find their style to reference the styles or artist's they like and incorporate it into their own work. #i mean to say i dont do this because i felt possibly thats what the question was referencing a little possibly? i dunno lol #just wanted to clarify all that!!! ♡

[harrysweasleys]

two heads of red hair // r.w

Summary: omg i love your writing so much- can you please write something REALLY soft for draco malfoy or ron weasley? thank u- HAHA SORRY IM A WH0R3 FOR FLUFF

Warnings: enough sweetness to give you a cavity, i swear.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: oh, sweet anon, aren’t we all whores for fluff?? bc i know i am. also sorry this was late! i’m feeling a tad better! now enjoy what’s quite possibly the softest thing i’ve ever written. xox (also it’s not proofread sorry)

—————————

The pouring rain was the only think keeping you awake as your rushed back into the house, wet hair sticking to your face and all your clothes glued to your skin.

Your first outing in nearly a month and you had regretted ever even leaving the house. The cold November rain made you feel as if your very core was frozen — a very rude awakening at this late hour of the morning.

You slammed your door shut behind you as if keeping out the rain demons, leaning back against it and sighing out in relief that you were finally in a dry environment.

You shrugged off your sticky rain jacket, not even bothering to dry it off so that the drops wouldn’t puddle onto the hardwood floors. You hung it up, tossing your rainboots to the side as well. You dropped the full grocery bag to the floor, planning on putting the stuff away once you had regained your energy.

The house was quite, which was no surprise. Ron was fast asleep when you left that morning. He probably hadn’t even noticed you were out, really. He’d probably lose his mind once he found out, but he couldn’t have stopped you while sleeping so it wasn’t your fault.

You tiptoed over to your room, spotting the familiar head of ginger hair still sound asleep, a smaller mop of ginger hair resting against his chest. Your heart swelled at the sight and you left the room, letting the two of them catch up on much deserved sleep.

After your son was born, about a month ago, Ron went into full defence mode. He didn’t let you leave the house, too worried that something would happen to you. Maybe it was paranoia from the war many years ago, or maybe just because his inner protective dad side was coming through, but you loved him for it anyways.

He loved your newborn unconditionally. The two of them were inseparable and Ron didn’t seem to complain one bit. You’d often find them snoozing on the couch in the late afternoons or watching telly together — Ron loved to watch your son’s face light up at the silly cartoons.

Being as quiet as humanly possible, you snuck into the kitchen and opened the fridge, beginning to put away the food you had just bought and taking some stuff out to make him some breakfast. For a month now, Ron had been doing all the house work — cooking, chores, laundry — you thought it was about time you worked up the energy and did something for him.

You took a few eggs out of the fridge, along with the bacon that you had just bought, and began making him the first meal of the day while hoping the smell wouldn’t wake him or the baby up. The pouring rain continued on outside, which was no longer a pain considering you were becoming drier by the second.

After you had beautifully arranged a little tray, pouring him a cup of tea as well, you began slowly walking back into the bedroom. You stared at them for a little while, a bright smile on your face at how cute they were together. But, alas, you didn’t want the breakfast to grow cold.

You walked to his side of the bed, placing the tray down on the window sill and kneeling next to the bed, placing a quick kiss on Ron’s nose.

He scrunched up his face, “Mmm.. mornin’, darling.”

You smiled down at him, lifting your hand to run it gently through his hair. The morning sunlight was streaming through the windows, illuminating his bright hair and the freckles that were scattered faintly across his cheeks.

“Morning,” you smiled, “Made you breakfast.”

“Ah, I thought I smelled something,” he chuckled quietly, lifting both of his hands to place them on the sleeping baby still dozed off on his chest, “I can’t bring myself to wake him.”

You stood up and placed your hands around your son, “I’ll take him.” You lifted him off of Ron’s chest and cradled him in your arms, his big brown eyes waking up to look at you, “Hey, Ollie.”

Ron had fallen in love with the name Oliver — and luckily, you had too. When your son was born, there was no doubt in your mind that the name Oliver would suit him perfectly.

He fussed slightly, letting out a small cry before readjusting himself and resting his tiny head against your chest. Ron grinned at the two of you, standing up to grab the tray and sitting back down in bed.

“Come join me,” he pat your spot on the bed, lifting the covers a bit so you could come join him. You happily obliged, carefully sitting down without causing distress to your sleeping son.

“Thank you for this,” he motioned to the food, “Still love spoiling you more, though.”

“You always spoil me,” you replied with a grin, “Don’t know what I did to deserve it.”

He gave you a look of mock shock, “Don’t know what you did? Blimey, woman. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Don’t be pretending you’re not.”

Resting your head against his shoulder and letting out a laugh, you nodded, “Fine, as long as you also know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Both of you are.” You gazed down at your son, his eyes shut and his mouth hanging open. He had so many of his father’s features and you couldn’t help but beam with pride. If he had his father’s personality as well — his drive, his passion, dedication, loyalty — you’d be the proudest mum there ever was.

Ron stuck out his hand, holding a piece of bacon. You gladly accepted it with your teeth, enjoying the savoury flavour and suddenly wondering why you hadn’t made breakfast for yourself.

“Where’d you get the eggs? Could have sworn we were out,” Ron looked at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“We were,” you nodded, “I went to the grocery store this morning.”

He stared blankly at you, “You didn’t — Y/N, I told you not to go out there. You just had a baby, you need to rest up. Besides, I can hear the heavy rain hitting the roof. It’s miserable outside.”

You gave him a soft smile, “I know, Ron. But I was getting bored all cooped up. You’ve been doing everything, I wanted to do something for you.”

“And I appreciate it, darling, don’t get me wrong,” his eyes softened and he looked between you and Ollie, “I just worry about you. All the time.”

“I know, love,” you leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “If it makes you feel better, I did bring my wand.”

He pursed his lips and nodded his head, “Makes me feel a little better. But still. Next time, if you want to leave, we’ll go together, yeah?”

“Yes, Ron, we’ll go together,” you said slowly, like a child repeating orders from their parents. He seemed to accept your answer, though, for he went back to eating his breakfast, feeding you as well considering your stomach had begun to grumble loudly.

After you guys finished eating, you stood up and placed the still-sleeping baby in his crib, trying your best not to wake him as he looked incredibly peaceful. You smiled down at him before leaving the room and following Ron to the kitchen.

With a flick of his wand, the dishes were clean and began to float back to the cabinets where they belonged. You had barely had the chance to stand by his side before the cleaning had been done.

“Well, now we’ve got a whole morning of nothing to do,” he grinned, spinning around and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush to his warm body.

You lifted your hands and tamed his hair, “Wanna cuddle on the couch?”

“Of course. ‘S like you read my mind,” he smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead and leading you to the couch, the two of you flipping down with you landing on top of him.

“Accio blanket,” you mumbled, the blanket from the other couch zooming over and enveloping the two of you in comfortable warmth.

Now comfortable and warm, you nuzzled your head into Ron’s chest, who had just turned on the telly to watch something about an upcoming football match — you were barely paying attention as you started zoning off in Ron’s arms.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he kissed the top of your head, rubbing his hand through your hair, “I’ll wake you up if there’s anything.”

“Mkay,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his torso, “Love you.”

The heavy rain nearly drowned out his words as he whispered back, “Love you too. To the ends of the earth.”

#ron weasley #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley imagines #ron weasley one shot #ron weasley one shots #ron weasley fic #ron weasley fics #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley reader insert

[featherfur]

Big Knife Meet Little Blind Ch.2

Xue Yang meets A-Qing before he meets Xiao Xingchen and decides he needs a disciple. Somehow he ends up with a kid, a heart, and an absolute mess of a cultivation world.

Warnings: Gore, Blood, Murder, Questionable Child Rearing, Xue Yang and A-Qing's potty mouth, Xue Yang isn't a good person and needs to get there, will eventually be SongXiaoXue

Read me on Ao3,

Read Chapter 1

Xue Yang returned home much more relaxed and even entertained the idea of taking his next day off to travel down to Yunmeng with A-Qing to let her try osmanthus cakes. She’d probably enjoy the river boats and he could afford a trip there and back if he annoyed Jin Guangyao into paying him early.

“A-Qing, are you still crying like a baby?” He called cheerfully towards the shack, kicking open the door and blinking when he found it completely empty.

The hearth was still cold and the soup from last night was gone so A-Qing had returned after he sent her off. The blankets for their bed were still made like A-Qing insisted on doing every morning, even the hidden pouch of money was still tucked in the jar of seasonings on the top shelf. Yet A-Qing was nowhere to be found.

Where the hell had the brat gone?

Had she run off because he scared her? If she could get over a fierce corpse devouring and murdering humans she shouldn’t be such a coward just because he got pissed and stabbed someone. It wasn’t like he was going to stab her. If he did that then he’d have to go through the trouble of finding another disciple and he liked his.

“A-Qing!” He shouted, mentally convincing himself that he wasn’t worried at all. After all, he could always get another brat right?

A second later the door swung open and he spun, Jiangzai already before him. Luckily for him, A-Qing was still much too small for his stab to be in her general area.

She collided with him forcefully and he was about to reprimand her when he realized she was clutching onto him.

“Eh? Why are you crying brat? Did you think I wasn’t coming back?” He snapped even as he sheathed Jiangzai and crouched down so he could look her over. She was fine beyond a few scratches and he rolled his eyes at her dramatics, he really should have killed her and grabbed an older brat. They didn’t cry nearly as much.

“Yang-ge, someone tried to break the door! They wanted to kill me.. They kept yelling for you. You weren’t here.” A-Qing sobbed, the irritation that rose in Xue Yang at her obnoxious crying was immediately flooded with the fury that anyone would dare scare his A-Qing. “You didn’t come home… I-I-I hid… I hid where you told me too. Then I heard you.”

Well atleast, some of his words had gotten through her thick skull.

“Who was it?” He barked, groaning when she just kept crying. He smacked her cheek and she blinked blearily up at him.

“Answer me brat, who was it?”

She shook her head, trying to tug herself closer to his chest and he pushed her back with a disgusted noise. She was covered in snot and tears and he didn’t want to have to wash his clothes so soon. It was disgusting and he liked to play with corpses.

She just snuffled loudly despite his glare and hold on her shoulders, still reaching out to him.

“I don’t know, I promise I don’t know.” She swore, grabbing hold of his forearms with a vice-like grip. It would have been impressive if she wasn’t so damn annoying.

Xue Yang stared at her, wondering if he could smack her again to make her shut up but she just blinked her white eyes at him with unwavering trust. An unfamiliar feeling built in his chest and he released his grip on her shoulders.

She rocketed into his chest with a fresh wave of sobbing, clinging onto him with a strength that surprised him. He fell back onto his ass, crossing his legs under him as A-Qing curled in his lap.

He pulled Jiangzai out as a precaution, wondering if A-Qing would panic like before. To his pleasant surprise, as soon as the blade was resting on his knee in easy reach she finally started to calm.

Her small fingers were tangled in his robes and he reached up to pat them in a move of comfort that completely surprised himself. Then again, he didn’t like breaking his own toys so treating them properly was the best way to make sure they survived. Even if he was confused by his own actions, A-Qing had started to calm and her obnoxious crying had finally ceased so Xue Yang counted it as a win.

Still, a steady wave of anger was still sliding through him. Someone had tried to break into his house and scared what was his. Even if her own clumsiness was what caused her scratches, she wouldn’t have had to run if it wasn’t for those bastards. They owed him.

Xue Yang was going to get even, tonight. He’d had a really bad day and it was time to make it someone else’s problem.

He waited for A-Qing to fall asleep before he moved back to his feet, keeping one arm under her so she could rest against his shoulder. With a child on his right and Jiangzai on his left he stepped out of the house and started to make his way around the house.

There were indeed footprints that weren’t from him, two sets in fact leading back to the local village. They weren’t familiar to him, but that just meant it wasn’t anyone from the Jin sect. There were plenty of others who wanted him dead or beaten black and blue.

He returned to the house to drop A-Qing off but she woke the moment he put her down.

“Yang-ge, are you leaving again?” She asked, her bottom lip wobbling and he poked her cheek to startle her.

“Don’t start that crying shit, got it? Yes I am, stay here.”

Rather than listening she just bolted forward to hold onto his leg instead.

“Yang-ge don’t leave me, take me with you.”

Xue Yang kicked her off, waving Jiangzai between them to keep her from trying again. Yet she still just wobbled back up to her feet with that stubborn streak that made him take her in the first place.

The temptation to give her a reason to fear Jiangzai was almost irresistible, a few more cuts wouldn’t do anything other than scare her after all. Xue Yang was good at swordsmanship, a few slices like paper cuts would be perfect for getting her to remember her place. He flicked the sword up with a twist of his wrist and was about to slice down across the reaching hand.

“You’re… going to kill them… right?” She said and Xue Yang paused long enough for her to grab his robes again and reach up towards Jiangzai. “Like earlier.”

“No, not like earlier. I’m going to kill them myself. Now let go or I’ll kill you first.” Xue Yang warned with a growl but she barely even blinked.

“Take me with you.”

That made him lower the sword with curiosity, tilting his head down at the dirty little brat he’d stuck in his house. There was a sudden panic in his mind, like when he’d come home to find A-Qing missing, at the idea of her being anywhere near murderers. She was tiny! He could kill her with a half kick to the head and she wanted to go with him?

“Why?”

“You left and it was scary.” She said simply, letting go of his robes to hold her arms up to him. “Take me with you.”

“Little Blind,” He said ignoring her scowl, “you do know I’m going to kill. Like the man before. You cried like a little bitch not even twelve hours ago.”

He remembered that she was roughly five when she just blinked up at him and waved her hands. Right. She’d watched last time.

The panic started to drain quickly and he shrugged.

Whatever. If she died then fuck her, he’d burn her corpse or bring her back for his experiments. Oh that was an idea.

He hummed to himself as he bent just enough to swipe her legs out from under her with his arm and leave her perched on his hip and elbow.

If she died she could make a wonderful little subject to see about finally recreating a conscious corpse like the Ghost General. It really was too bad that he was completely loyal to Wei Wuxian, Xue Yang could have used a babysitter.

“If you start crying I’ll leave you in the chest cavity after I break it open.” Xue Yang threatened her and she just gave him that same confused blink. He scoffed and grabbed a cloak to toss over her and made his way out.

He was going to have to fix her poor vocabulary soon. She was great at playing a beggar for a kid, but she really missed the point of his threats and that wasn’t going to stand.

“Do you remember what the bastards sounded like? The ones who came looking for me,” Xue Yang added irritably when she continued her blinking habit. That jogged her memory and she nodded, looking out towards the approaching town.

Night had already started to fall and the last rays of light were quickly disappearing as lanterns were lit instead. Xue Yang grumbled to himself as he realized the footprints would soon be invisible but he couldn’t risk putting A-Qing down for a fire talisman or to sheathe Jiangzai even for a few seconds.

“He… He sounded like the… the…” A-Qing pouted as she tried to remember and Xue Yang suddenly understood why people found kid’s cute. If she wasn’t so annoying, A-Qing would be adorable for a little stray, she was just like a cat that never shut up.

“The pig man!” A-Qing finally declared happily, smiling at Xue Yang and lost the adorable look when Xue Yang just felt annoyed instead.

“I thought you said you didn’t know who they were.”

“I don’t. One of them sound like the pig man… He wasn't the pig man.”

Xue Yang jerked his arm to make her squeal in fear of being dropped. Then he realized what it was that she was saying.

“You mean he has the same accent as the butcher?”

Right, Xue Yang thought as she blinked blankly at him, she’s five she doesn’t know what accent means.

“You have the ugliest face.” He finally told her, grumbling when her thin fingers shoved into his cheek.

“Yang-ge don’t be mean to A-Qing.” She admonished like it was bath day and not a trip to kill a man.

“Okay brat, I get it, keep your hands off my face or I’ll bite them off.” He snapped his teeth in her direction and she retracted her hands quickly with puffy cheeks and pouty lips. The second time wasn’t nearly as adorable but when she reached to wrap her arms around his neck again he let her without question.

Honestly he was waiting for her to fall asleep on his shoulder so he just evened out his footsteps and made his way through the back alley’s to the butchershop.

“Don’t make any noise unless I tell you too.” He warned, waiting until she nodded that she understood before he finally stepped behind the shop itself.

The candlelight wasn’t very bright so Xue Yang slipped closer, peering through the window at the small group. At first he only recognized the butcher himself, then he realized he did know the other two.

They weren’t anyone important but a few years ago Xue Yang had gutted their sister for smacking him, he hadn’t realized he’d been seen at all. They must have been hunting him since then and only just now caught up after he got stuck long-term in this damned town. He would have to clean that up eventually anyways.

Talk about two birds with one stone, he thought to himself and turned to lower A-Qing to the ground.

“Are you going to help me? Or do you just wanna watch?” He whispered and she shrank down against the wall of the house before reaching out to pat the hilt of Jiangzai. “Good girl, wait right here for Yang-ge.”

He straightened with a grin, patting her once on the head before sliding open the door silently and strolling through.

“Hello you two, I heard you were looking for me.” He chirped excitedly, holding up the well-known blade. “Really, you could have just left a note.”

“You.” One snarled.

“Xue Yang.” The other said and Xue Yang rolled his eyes, chuckling at their posturing.

“Don’t dirty my name, I’m rather fond of it.” He hummed, almost seeming to glide over the floor towards them as they stumbled back. “Actually, let me correct myself. You should have just left a note. Then I’d maybe be able to bring myself to be a bit merciful, Jin Guangyao’s been teaching me all about it.”

“Will you just- Shut up!” The butcher’s voice joined the mess and Xue Yang glanced at the knife he was wielding.

A loud laugh bubbled up as he saw it, swinging Jiangzai to point at the taller one.

“You really think you can do anything to me?” In response the knife came flying at his head and he sighed softly. A simple lean was all that was needed to leave the blade well out of range of his head and it struck the wall behind him instead.

“Now, I need a volunteer.” He said with another step forward. “See, my kid’s still new to all of this but she needs to learn, so who wants to help me teach her the different arteries to cut? The other two I’ll kill a little faster.”

“You killed our sister, after we kill you we’ll get your little brat and return the favor.” The youngest brother yelled in outrage, brandishing his own sword. It wavered in the air almost shaking as much as his owner was.

The smile disappeared from Xue Yang’s face and he flashed forward. With two strokes blood spurted from the two others’ throats. He left only the youngest to cower with a scream that was silenced a moment later when Xue Yang’s fingers grabbed his tongue and with a single slice was tossed behind him. The wail was easily stuffed out with a handful of the bastard’s own robes, forcing them down his throat until he choked and gagged.

“Found my volunteer.” Xue Yang pulled him to his knees by his hair, waiting impatiently for the neighbors knocking to cease. When no one answered they dispersed with mumbles about rowdy visitors and summoning the guards to complain.

Xue Yang dragged the man through the bloody mess on the floor, glancing back at the corpses with a mournful air.

If only I hadn’t brought A-Qing, then I’d have two new subjects to play with.

He hummed as he stood in the middle of the room, realizing that this was one of those moments that Jin Guangyao had told him about. Ones where Xue Yang should have planned better before jumping into slaughter.

He wanted to take his time and teach A-Qing a thing or two, but the bastard crying on the floor had warned everyone. If Xue Yang brought him back home to teach, then he’d have to deal with the smell of blood in his house and the potential of Jin disciples finding the body.

Jin Guangyao should be proud, Xue Yang thought proudly as he dropped the man on the ground and promptly sat on his stomach, I’m thinking it through and everything.

“A-Qing, come here.” He called, waving her forward and holding his arms open to tempt her even further. As expected, she bolted into his arms without a care for the carnage around her.

“Good girl, now, I’m going to show you this trick.”

A-Qing flinched slightly when the man they were sitting on wailed against the robe. Then she scowled and leaned over him to smack his cheek like Xue Yang did to her earlier. This one was much harsher than Xue Yang had been but it still managed to make the man freeze.

“Good girl,” Xue Yang cheered, the vicious mood from earlier seeming to dissipate as he squeezed her cheek. “Very good, now, listen to Yang-ge.”

A-Qing nodded her head rapidly as Xue Yang moved over the struggling man to trace a nail over his carotid artery with a rather proper explanation of death by exsanguination if he said so himself. He followed the man’s neck down to his windpipe, explaining how to slice it properly. The man still writhed so Xue Yang clamped down on his throat, squeezing it until the body spasmed and stopped moving.

“And that is choking. Don’t worry about that right now, you’re too tiny to do it.” Xue Yang said, tilting his head to listen to the slow moving footsteps of whatever the villagers had managed to gather for a guard to check. He sighed, resigning himself to bringing her to one of his experiments later and scooting her off to stand.

He twirled Jiangzai, humming to himself as he felt its blood lust, and held it against the unconscious man’s neck.

“Well? Do you remember what I just taught you?”

A-Qing glanced back and forth between the two of them with visible hesitation. Xue Yang supposed this could be a little fast, she’d only seen her first murder earlier in the day after all.

I’ll read those damn child raising books when I get home, maybe I should wait until she’s atleast six before committing human murder. Jin Guangyao said that was harder for most people to do.

Even as he planned to kill the man himself, A-Qing’s hand moved to Xue Yang’s and held the hilt of Jiangzai. She pushed carefully until the sword was just over the artery just like Xue Yang had taught her, then she plunged it forward.

Her white eyes were glowing with fascination as blood bubbled around the wound and, when Xue Yang pulled out, the way it sprayed before Xue Yang covered her from it with his black sleeve. Still, she moved to peek over his arm when it finally stopped spurting over them. She blinked in her curious way at the corpse then scowled over at Xue Yang.

“Your robe is all dirty. It’s bath day.” She said seriously, just like Xue Yang would say when he came home to find her filthy.

Xue Yang was in such a good mood he could only scoop her up as he sheathed Jiangzai and laugh as he skipped to the door. He paused midway through and bounced back to grab the purse on the butcher and the package before bolting as the acting guards started to bang on the door.

“Oops.” He hummed, looking around the alley before kicking off to land on the roof next door. Perhaps he didn’t think things through like he thought he did.

Whatever, He slipped the purse into his robe and started back towards home. He jumped on three more houses before deciding that was good enough and leaping to the ground to walk the rest of the way.

“Yang-ge?” A-Qing said sleepily against his shoulder. “Can I go to work with you again?”

“Sure, kid, I’ll bring you again later.” He hummed to himself, cheerfully waving the package of whatever he’d stolen through the air. He debated on chucking it against a tree just to see its contents but A-Qing’s sleepy snuffles distracted him instead.

She’d done so well already, this disciple shit really was working out a lot better than he thought it would. He was surprised she hadn’t even sobbed but then again, he hadn’t cried after his first kill either and he was only two years older than her then.

He glanced down at her as she promptly passed out, completely comfortable and safe in the arms of a murderer.

So this is why people have kids, they’re actually kind of cute when they listen.

He would have to figure out something about leaving her alone in case other enemies showed up, but maybe if he dug at the Ghost General enough he would finally get that ghost babysitter.

He almost turned to head towards the experimentation compound but a single glance at A-Qing’s sleeping form made him turn back towards home.

That can wait until tomorrow, A-Qing needs more sleep than me.

#mdzs #the untamed #Xue yang #a qing #xiao xingchen #song lan #xuexiao #songxiaoxue #songxiao #songxue #fanfic #canon divergence #cw: murder #cw: character death #cw: gore #cw: blood

[jaehyunhour]

for the first time... | na jaemin

summary: a collection of firsts with na jaemin.

warnings: suggestive at one point, but it’s mostly just cavity-inducing sweetness. 

3.1k words. (i’m writing these for other members per request, so if you want to see another member please send me an ask!)

jeno | haechan | renjun ...

the first time jaemin… kisses you.

you huff out in annoyance as you reach out for a bowl up on the top shelf of the cabinet and graze it with your fingers, unable to fully grasp it. “fuck this,” you say, pulling the shirt you’re wearing further down your thighs and turning around, nearly bumping into jaemin.

“oh, shit, i’m sorry.” you say, as he smiles at you.

“it’s okay… is that my shirt?”

you both look down at the shirt you’re wearing and a blush arises on your cheeks.

“oh my god, is it? i’m so sorry, i just pulled the first shirt i saw out of jeno’s closet and slipped it on. i was going to go home but jeno fell asleep before he could walk me home so i’m just sleeping on the floor next to his bed.”

jaemin giggles, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it. you look better in it than i do.”

there’s a moment of silence, then he continues talking. “i can walk you home next time, just let me know.”

“okay, sounds good.”

“do you need that bowl still?” he walks past you, grabbing the bowl and handing it to you.

“oh, yeah, thank you. i wanted some cereal.”

“mind if i join?”

and he joins you in your midnight snack, sitting across the table from you and telling you all about what he’s been up to these days, and you admire the way he can look so cute while eating with his mouth open. you end up talking with jaemin for hours, and don’t realize how loud you’re being until renjun grumpily walks into the kitchen to tell you to be quiet. you apologize softly, and as soon as you hear renjun’s door close you both break into a fit of giggles.

“we should go to bed,” you suggest.

“yeah, we should.”

jaemin tiptoes with you back to the rooms, walking you up to the door to jeno’s room.

“hey, y/n?” jaemin whispers, careful not to wake anyone else up.

“yeah?”

“would you ever want to go on a date with me?”

you give him a big smile. “i would love that.”

“i’ll stop by your room before i leave in the morning and get your number, okay?”

“okay, goodnight.” you stare at each other sheepishly as he scratches the back of his head.

“should we kiss?” you ask.

“absolutely,” he says, stepping closer to you. he places his hands on both sides of your face and leans down, pressing his lips to yours. you kiss him back, not daring pull away until jaemin himself pulls back to catch his breath.

“goodnight, jaem.”

“goodnight.”

and with that, you sneak back into jeno’s room to sleep.

the first time jaemin… takes you out on a date.

as promised, in the morning you snuck into jaemin’s room while jeno wasn’t looking. he gave you an ear-to-ear smile upon seeing you, and brought you in for another kiss. you exchanged numbers, and he offered to walk you home instead of jeno. since you weren’t as close with jaemin as you were jeno, he didn’t know the usual route you take home so you led him on the long way back to your place.

“so what’s your perfect first date like? i want to make sure i get it right,” jaemin says.

“hm, i’m not sure about that. i mean a perfect first date would be like… flying to italy and eating pasta or something like that, right?”

“i guess so.”

“i like simple first dates. getting something to drink, going to the park, just hanging out and getting to know each other.”

“where do you like going?”

“i like going to gongcha, and this park in my neighborhood, and sitting on the swings and talking.”

“that’s the kind of first date you like to go on?”

you nod your head.

“alright, let’s go then,” he says, intertwining his fingers with yours. his other hand reaches for his phone, and he reroutes you two to the nearest gongcha.

“what do you like to drink?”

“i get something new every time i go, i’m trying to work my way through the menu.”

“hey, i like doing that too.” he says, smiling.

“maybe that could be our thing,” you suggest, hopeful.

he takes you to gongcha, orders the two of you drinks, and lets you guide him to the playground near your place, never once letting go of your hand. he pushes you on the swing, taking you higher and higher, soaking in the sound of your laughs like it’s the last time he’s ever going to hear it. eventually, he sits on the swing next to you and swings lightly, listening to you talk about everything that pops into your mind, and smiling.

the first time jaemin… says i love you.

if there’s one thing to know about jaemin, it’s that he falls hard and fast. you were no exception to this rule, from the day he kissed you outside of jeno’s room you had him wrapped around your finger. and you were wrapped around his finger just the same. the first time he says i love you, you are shocked but not surprised. it all happened so quickly, you didn’t quite process it at first or even realize you had said it back.

jaemin walks into his room, seeing you laying on his bed. he had spent the last 15 minutes in the kitchen, cooking for the two of you and came rushing into the bedroom.

“can you help me find a bandaid?” he asks, gesturing to the paper towel wrapped around one of his fingers. “i cut myself a bit while chopping some vegetables, nothing too serious.”

“gross,” you say, getting up. “there’s no blood in our food, right?”

“no ma’am, now help me find one? i think there’s some in my top drawer.”

you open the drawer and begin moving around his clothes, pulling out a bandaids box in the very back of the drawer. “you need some alcohol to clean it first.”

“there’s some in the bathroom.”

you leave for only a moment, returning with the rubbing alcohol and a cotton ball. he pulls the paper towel back, you gently clean his cut, and wrap it in the bandaid.

“you’re all set, baby.”

“thank you, i love you so much.” he says nonchalantly, getting up and heading towards the door.

“love you too,” you say, falling back onto the bed and going on your phone. it takes you a few minutes to process what happened, and you jump out of bed when it finally hits you and you run to the kitchen.

“did that just happen?” you say, eyes wild as you look at jaemin.

“you look scary. did what just happen?”

“did we just say that? that we love each other?”

jaemin pauses for a second and thinks back to just minutes earlier, when you helped clean him up and he laughs.

“oh. yeah, i guess we did. i meant it.” he goes back to making your dinner as you stand there, stunned at how casual he’s being about the situation.

“i meant it, too.”

“great, so we’re in love.”

“y-yeah, i guess so.”

“you two are so gross,” jeno says, walking past the two of you and grabbing a water bottle out of the fridge.

the first time jaemin… makes love to you.

jaemin wanted the moment to be special so he waited until your 100 days to finally go all the way. you had explained to him that you were ready whenever he was to finally cross that line, but jaemin held off until he could make it completely perfect for you. you walked into your apartment after a long day, just to see jaemin sitting on your couch half asleep.

“aw, my baby,” you coo at his sleeping figure, the sound of you struggling to take your shoes off waking him up.

he jumps slightly and quickly stands up to greet you, pulling your body into his for a hug and placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“what took you so long? i’ve been waiting forever! i made you dinner, it’s on the table and i have a few presents for you.” he says quickly.

“baby, you didn’t have to do all this for me. i told you i didn’t want to make a big fuss out of our 100 days,” you pout. “i do have a few gifts for you, though.”

jaemin wines and dines you, treating you to the best meal you’ve ever had, giving you an array of gifts that you had mentioned wanting, and pulling you into your bedroom. there are petals all over the floor and bed, r&b playing lowly on a bluetooth speaker, and a matching red lace lingerie set placed neatly on the bed.

“is this all for me?” you say, pulling the lace between your fingers and examining it closely. jaemin comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing a few kisses leading from your shoulder up to your ear.

“i was thinking you could put this on for me, and i could make you feel nice all night long.”

“now how can i say no to that?” you say, turning around to look at him face to face. you press a chaste kiss to his lips, then push him back onto the bed. “i’m going to go change, and when i get back i want to see you in just your underwear. understand?”

“yes, ma’am,” jaemin says, nodding and pulling his shirt over his head.

when you return back from the bathroom, adorned in the red lace, jaemin quickly pulls you into his lap and fulfills his promise, making you feel oh so nice all night long.

the first time jaemin… argues with you.

it wasn’t a serious fight. jaemin made sure to communicate well with you, letting you know his feelings often to avoid fighting with you. he didn’t like fighting with any of his loved ones, and especially you. he never wanted to hurt you. but sometimes, he can be just a little too much. he invited you over to the dreamies game night, requesting that you bring your switch and mario party. during the game, the teams were shuffled and you ended up playing with jeno, against him and jisung. you tried so so hard, but eventually lost to jaemin and jisung. while jeno wasn’t too upset that you had lost, you were.

you weren’t a sore loser, but the sight of jaemin and jisung boasting in front of you that they had won was enough to get you heated. jaemin continuously poked at your sides and face, giggling and rubbing his victory in your face.

“stop, jaemin,” you said sternly, obviously not in the mood to listen to his boasting.

“i won and you lost, i won and you lost,” he said in a sing-song voice, poking you in the face again.

“jaemin, i said stop!” you snapped, slightly raising your voice at him. the room fell silent, the only sound being the mario party music coming from the tv. “you are so irritating sometimes,” you huff in annoyance, getting up and stomping to jeno’s room.

“i’ll be right back,” jaemin announces. “you guys keep playing.”

he heads over to jeno’s room, trying to remain quiet so you don’t hear him coming and lock him out of the room, but you hear his footsteps anyway. he knocks gently on the door, “baby, can i come in?”

there’s no response, but jaemin opens the door anyway to see you sitting on jeno’s bed with tears in your eyes.

“baby,” jaemin says, coming to sit next to you and quickly pulling you into his arms. your head rests on his chest as he pets your hair, and the tears began to fall freely. “baby, i’m sorry, i didn’t think it was that serious. i wasn’t thinking.”

“it’s not that serious, jaemin, you were just being annoying and i couldn’t take it. i told you to stop and you didn’t listen.”

“i know, i know, i’m sorry my love.” he presses a kiss on top of your head. “it’s just a game, okay? there’s no need to be upset, i’m sorry for rubbing it in your face. next time we’ll make sure that we play together and beat everyone else, okay?”

you pull back and nod at him, and he wipes the tears away from your face.

“i love you, alright, baby?” he says, to which you nod again.

the first time jaemin… buys you a present.

jaemin bought you presents often, but you could never forget the first time he bought you a present. you were sitting peacefully on your couch, a week after your first date with jaemin, mindlessly scrolling through your phone while the tv played in the background. suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

you got up quickly, not expecting any guests, but happy when you pull the door open to see jaemin holding two bouquets of flowers, chocolates, sour candy, and a small teddy bear.

“what’s all this?” you ask, reaching out to help him with what he’s holding. he hands you one bouquet, the chocolates, and the teddy bear.

“i, uh, was in the neighborhood and wanted to bring you something,” he says, stepping into your home and taking his shoes off, before heading into the kitchen to place everything down.

“you don’t live around here,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

“okay, i lied, i just wanted to see you.”

“cute, but why did you get so much?”

“oh, i was at the store and i didn’t know what you would like so i just got you a little bit of everything so you wouldn’t be disappointed with what i got you.”

you look for vases to put the flowers in, filling them with water and sticking the flowers in before setting them on the counter next to the kitchen sink.

“you are so cute,” you say, coming up to jaemin and wrapping your arms around his waist. he looks down at you and places a kiss on your nose. “i would like anything you get me, because you got it for me, jaems.”

“i’ll remember that for next time.”

the first time jaemin… goes away.

“my loveeee,” jaemin coos through the phone. “what are you still doing awake?”

“shouldn’t i be asking you the same thing?”

“nooo, isn’t it like 3 a.m. where you are?” he asks, the pout on his face almost audible.

“baby, you’re in japan, there’s no time difference between japan and korea. it’s only midnight.”

“oh what, really? i didn’t know. it’s been a long day,” he sighs.

“i can tell.”

there’s silence on jaemin’s end but it’s comfortable. you fall deeper into your bed, trying to remember what it was like to sleep alone, and sigh.

“i miss you already,” he confesses.

“i started missing you the moment you walked out of my door, baby.”

jaemin left just that morning for the dream show tour, and it tore you apart inside to have to part with him. but you knew that jaemin had a career, a job to uphold, and you were not in the same position as he was. you were still a student, studying and working part time at a cafe to pay your bills, while he had the pleasure of being a famous idol.

“do you think you’ll be okay without me?” he asks.

“it’ll be hard, but i think i will manage.” you roll over, cuddling into the stuffed animal jaemin had left for you before he had to leave. he sprayed it with his cologne, to make sure that it had his scent so you could sleep peacefully. he knew how restless you got when you had to sleep without him.

“i think i’m going to struggle more than you,” he admits. “i didn’t think i would at first, but now that i’m here and jeno won’t cuddle with me, i’m realizing how much i really miss you.”

“you’ll be just fine, baby, don’t worry. i, uh, put something in your luggage for you, though.”

“really?”

“yeah, in the front pocket.”

jaemin stands, heading towards his suitcase and reaching into the front pocket and pulling out a pair of your lace panties. he sucks in a breath before stuffing it back into the suitcase, hoping jeno didn’t see.

“you are insane,” he says quietly, closing his eyes and willing the tent in his pajama pants to go away.

“don’t wear them out too much, yeah? i want those back once you’re home.”

the first time jaemin… introduces you to his family.

jaemin introduced you quite quickly to his family. shortly after he showed up to your house with all the flowers, candy, and the teddy bear, he asked you to be his partner. and by shortly after, i mean that exact same night he asked you to be his partner and you did not hesitate to say yes. approximately two weeks after that night, you sat next to jaemin across from his parents at their dining room table eating a meal that his mother had prepared.

“eomeonim, this is really delicious, you have to teach me how to make it,” you say, eating as quickly as you can while still being polite.

“of course, honey, you’re too cute. where did jaemin even find you?”

jaemin groans, “eomma, you can’t just ask that!”

“yah, i’m seriously curious!” she retorts.

“i was actually friends with jeno for a while before i started talking to jaemin. i was at the dorm hanging out with jeno, and he fell asleep before he could walk me home and i ran into jaemin in the kitchen.”

“and did he walk you home?”

“he did in the morning! i slept on jeno’s floor and then once i woke up in the morning, jaemin offered to walk me home.”

“yah,” his mother turns to look at him. “you didn’t even offer to let her sleep in your bed? you should’ve been the one sleeping on the floor, jaemin-ah!”

jaemin’s dad lets out a laugh, “adeul, you should’ve offered her the bed.”

“appa, i had just met her that day! don’t you think that would’ve been weird?”

you giggle watching them go back and forth, thoroughly enjoying their banter while you continue to eat your food.

“y/n-ah, if jaemin ever does you wrong you just let us know, and we’ll make sure to punish him, okay?”

“haha, okay, i understand,” you say, turning to look at jaemin and giving him a wink.

“eomma, appa, i promise you i will never do y/n wrong.”

“you better not,” his mom and dad say in unison.

“i like her,” his mom says, serving more food into your plate.

“me too, get in line,” jaemin says, now turning to look at you and giving you a wink.

#nct #jaemin #nct smut #nct fluff #na jaemin #nct jaemin #nct dream #nct reaction #kpop drabbles #kpop #kpop scenarios #nct au #nct angst #nct scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop smut #jaemin au #na jaemin au

[strangelock221b]

Fluffy Bridgerton Prompt - Modern-day; it's Valentine's Day and Lady Whistledown gets an email from a secret admirer (Penelope/your choice)

Thanks! I made it Penthony.

Penelope’s Own Secret Admirer (AO3)

One of Penelope’s favorite parts about having a popular gossip site was answering emails. Some were tips, some were complaints, some were praise over the humor and accuracy of her columns.

But this was the first time she had ever received anything like this.

My dear Lady Whistledown,

This is to tell you that amongst all your fans and haters, there is one person out there who truly loves you. Whenever you feel overwhelmed or underappreciated, know that you are not alone.

I’d come forward but I’m too much a coward. I know I’m not the one you love so I’m content with loving you from afar.

Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.

Your secret admirer

Penelope had no idea what to make of it. The email was one she didn’t recognize, so she didn’t think it was someone she knew, despite what they wrote.

I’d write back but what would I say? “Um, thank you?” Of course, it’s probably just somebody’s idea of a joke. Still, it’s kind of nice to have my very own secret admirer, I didn’t know people still did that.

***

The next day, she went to the grocery store to stock up on discounted chocolate then met Anthony at their favorite bookstore/café for lunch. Penelope couldn’t pinpoint when she and Anthony Bridgerton became friends, but it was while she still had a huge crush on his younger brother Colin.

Thank God that’s over, she thought as she took another bite of her croissant sandwich. Colin’s a great guy but I was never going to be anything but a friend to him. That’s fine, I can always use another friend. She smiled at Anthony, who was sitting across from her and busy scrolling on his phone, his own half-eaten sandwich in front of him. After a moment, he read something then scowled and set his phone down.

“Bad news?” she asked.

“No news,” he muttered then he picked up his sandwich and took another bite.

“Well, no news is good news. So, how was your Valentine’s Day? Did you have a date?”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “No, my six-month streak of dateless nights continues.”

“Story of my life,” she muttered as she took another bite. “None of my boyfriends have lasted long enough for me to have one on Valentine’s Day.” She thought over her past few Valentine’s Days and smiled a bit. “But it hasn’t been so bad. I always make it a point to pamper myself around the day. I had a bubble bath last night and read the steamiest romance novel I could find in my To Be Read pile. Today, I bought chocolates on discount and I’ll watch a bunch of rom-coms tonight. What about you?”

Anthony shifted in his seat then he chuckled. “Valentine’s Day isn’t nearly as big of a deal for men. Single ones are usually grateful they didn’t have to spend a ton of money.” He took the last bite of his sandwich. “I watched a game then read Daphne’s latest post on the Bridgerton Family Facebook page. She and Simon are enough to cause cavities, I swear.”

Penelope muttered, “At least some people are lucky in love.” She finished her sandwich then gave him a wry smile. “Well, I at least have a secret admirer, or a troll. It’s hard to tell the difference online.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I received an email yesterday, supposedly from a secret admirer, but I’m not sure if I can believe it.” She had told Anthony that she was the writer behind LadyWhistledown.com and he supported her in it, even when she teased him about being a playboy. “I’ve never had a secret admirer before.”

“Let me see it,” he said, holding out his hand expectantly.

Penelope pulled up the email on her phone then placed it in his hand. The sparks she felt when her fingers brushed his had to be static, right? Anthony read the email then handed the phone back to her and she was careful not to touch him again.

“It looks genuine to me,” he said, his eyes dancing. “You really do have a secret admirer, Penelope.”

“But who are they? Who would want to send me a love letter? And how do they even know who they are really sending it to? No one knows who Lady Whistledown is, I’ve made sure of that.”

“Why don’t you write back and ask them?” He paused. “Colin is still in Greece.”

Does he think Colin’s my admirer? Penelope smiled a bit. “I know, I talked to him a few days ago. His new girlfriend sounds nice.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow. “Girlfriend? He didn’t say anything to me about a girlfriend.”

“Probably because he didn’t want you to know. You never liked any of his girlfriends.” It’s obvious Colin was never going to be interested in me – his type is pretty, nice, but not exactly intellectual. That thought would have sent her mood crashing a year ago, but now all she felt was longing, and not for Colin. I want a man who wants me back just as much.

“True, but he should’ve at least told me,” he muttered, annoyed. He brooded better than any gothic hero for a moment and it was all Penelope could do not to giggle. Or sigh, because Anthony Bridgerton really was a gorgeous man. He looked up at her and laid his hand over hers, the warmth of his hand radiating through her. “Email them back. You deserve a chance to be happy.”

Penelope was struck by the emotions in his eyes and all she could do was nod. He nodded back then checked his watch.

“I should go, Daphne and Simon are hosting a family dinner tonight. See you later?”

She smiled. “Sure. Let me know how dinner went. Don’t try to kill your siblings, you know fratricide is illegal.”

Anthony smiled a bit. “That still leaves sororicide.”

Penelope giggled. “Don’t kill your sisters either.”

He grinned. “No promises.” Anthony got up then leaned to kiss her cheek before leaving the café.

She stared at the place he’d been, one hand coming up to touch where he’d kissed. Anthony had kissed her cheek many times before but this time, it was different.

Who knows me better than him? My secrets, my feelings, everything. Anthony’s the only person who could have sent that email. He loves me? Truly loves me?

Penelope thought of all the moments they shared, talking, laughing, just spending time together. He’s my friend, even my best friend. He obviously wants more, but do I? She imagined kissing Anthony and felt her heart skip a beat. That settles it then. She picked up her phone and responded to the email.

My dear secret admirer,

My heart is free and has been for a while now.

It’s yours for the taking, Anthony.

Penelope

It was only a few minutes after she sent the email that the door to the café burst open and Anthony came in, looking like he’d run the entire distance. He stopped dead when he saw her and stared at her a moment then his face lit up with the happiest smile she’d ever seen from him.

Penelope smiled back and part of her knew she’d never have to celebrate Valentine’s Day alone again.

#bridgerton #penelope featherington #anthony bridgerton #penthony

[ravenforce]

Cheating Death VI

Warning/s: None

Summary: Natasha confronts you and finds out the truth. 

A/N: Now, shall end it at that? Also, stay safe. Stay home. x

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

“No,” Carol yelled at Natasha, making the team wince except for the redhead.

“I’m not asking permission, Carol.” Natasha continued to disarm herself, pulling all her guns and knives out and on the table, making everyone confused.

“Okay but you’re not going alone,” Carol tried to reason. “I’m coming with you.”

Natasha turned to her girlfriend and sighed. “I can very well take care of myself.” She’s trying really hard not to be aggressive with the blonde but Carol’s keeping her from being where she wanted to be longer.

“I know -”

“Then let me do this alone.”

“But that woman is dangerous.” The rest of the team couldn’t do much more than just sit and watch the heated exchange.

“She’s not gonna hurt me.” Natasha sighed, quietly remembering the moment your eyes connected. Carol crossed her arms and scoffed, making the redhead look back at her.

“You don’t know that.”

“You don’t know her,” Natasha countered.

“And you do?”

“I do, Carol! She’s my other Clint!” Natasha yelled in frustration. Carol opened her mouth but Natasha was already storming out of the room. Carol looked at the team and they all shook their head.

“If Y/N Al Ghul is her other Clint, there’s no force on earth or beyond that could stop Natasha from going to her,” Wanda tried to explain. Carol hasn’t been earth-bound long enough to see who Clint was for Natasha. They were best friends, partners, and Wanda knows by the look you gave Natasha a few hours ago, that the two of you are even more than just that.

***

Talia and Nyssa are having a drink by the bar at home when one of their guards announced that someone wanted to see them. They looked at each other and sighed. The breakfast fiasco with the Avengers rendered them in the mood for day drinking.

“Let them in.” Talia’s smooth voice reverberated around the room.

“Hello.” Natasha greeted politely. Nyssa cocked an eyebrow at her sister and took a swig of her beer. “I wanted to see Y/N. Is she home?”

“State your business with our sister?” Nyssa spoke with her serious CEO voice.

They’ve never met Natasha before but you have regaled them of so many stories about how you met in Budapest, how she had the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen, how you have adventured through Europe with your other friend Clint until Ra’s caught up with you. They’ve probably heard it all, even after you’ve come back to the League, Natasha was still the topic of every whispered story you shared with your sisters at dead of the night when the three of you are sure that your father has retired for the day. They’ve never met her yet they feel like they’ve known her just as long.

“I just wanted to talk. It’s been more than a decade since I -” Natasha choked back a soft sob. Thinking about how much time has passed without her knowing that you’re alive hurts her like no other.

Talia sighed, Natasha looked tired like the big revelation of the day took years out of her life. “She’s not here, Natasha.”

Natasha bowed her head and was about to apologize for disturbing their time, again, when Nyssa spoke. “But if you know our sister, you’ll know where to find her.”

She looks back at the brunette and nod. “Thank you.”

***

“We’re being followed,” Natasha whispered as the two of you continued to walk hand-in-hand after just spending your first-anniversary dinner at one of your favourite restaurants in Scotland.

It’s been over a year since you two have me in Budapest. Your friend Clint called you for help on a mission, which you easily agreed to, to be away from your father for a while. The mission should have been simple enough for two highly skilled assassins like Osiris and Ronin but no one told you that you’ll have to put down the highly dangerous KGB agent Natasha Romanova. 

You didn’t know what possessed you to defect from your original orders but something about Natasha speaks to you even when she was doing her absolute best to kill you. Something in her eyes tells you she wanted the same thing you wanted most in life; freedom. You remembered it too well, the look on Clint’s face when you finally pinned down Natasha on the ground but instead of delivering the final blow, you offered her an out.

You remember the way she looked at you too like you just grew two heads. You told her about your predicament with your father, and how you wanted a life out of the league. Natasha was skeptical but she wanted nothing more but to get away from the path she’s on. That night the three of you decided you will be the masters of your own fate, and boarded the first train out of Budapest. 

Currently, you were living in Scotland but you will be moving again soon as to avoid being tracked for staying in one place for too long. The three of you didn’t mind, thinking of the situation as an opportunity to see the world rather than sulk about being fugitives from your own pasts and families. 

You shook your head lightly to bring yourself back to the present. You knew this day would come. You knew your time with Natasha is numbered. So you had put up a plan with Clint to ensure Nat’s gonna survive. 

“Y/N, where are we going?” She asked when you pulled her in the opposite direction of your apartment. You two are almost jogging on the side of the street for five minutes when Natasha recognized the route.

“Why are we going to Clint’s?” She sounded confuse and a little bit scared. You wanted nothing more but to stop, pull her in a hug, and assure her that everything will be alright but you don’t have enough time.

You nearly kicked the front door to Clint’s building off the hinges in your haste to get inside. Clint opened his door after three frantic knocks. 

“What the fuck is happening?” He asked confused after you went directly to his room without so much as a greeting.

“We were being followed,” Natasha answered while retrieving her guns that she taped under his furniture. 

When you walked back inside the living room, Natasha was baffled when you handed her and Clint a backpack. Clint shouldered his immediately. 

“Wait -” Natasha started to say. 

“You remember the plan?” Clint nodded. 

“What plan?” She yelled making you and Clint turn to her. Clint took her arm lightly and tried to manoeuvre her towards the front door.

“No!” She yelled and yanked her arm from Clint’s hold and run back to you. You easily caught her in a tight embrace. “I’m not going anywhere without you.” 

You sucked in a deep breath to keep yourself from changing your mind, and backing out of your own damn plan. “It’s -” you chocked down a sob. “It’s only temporary.” You pulled back to look at your girlfriend’s face. “I will find you, I promise.” 

A hollow laugh sounded behind the closed door. A laugh you’re so familiar with, you subconsciously pushed Natasha behind you. Then the door burst open, revealing your father’s smiling face. 

“Y/N Al Ghul, what did I tell you about making promises you cannot keep?” He stopped at the threshold, Clint moved sideways to help shield Natasha too. 

“I never broke a promise before, father.” You spat out. Ra’s just shrugged since he doesn’t really care. “Let them go.” 

Ra’s laughed before pinning you with a look like he’s trying to search something within you. “Okay,” he said simply. 

“Okay?” Clint whispered confuse but you didn’t pay him any mind. 

“Give me your word. No harm is to come to them.” 

“Give me your word that you will be the heir to my throne, and I will make sure that these two puny humans you so care about will be unharmed and even be put under the protection of the league.” 

You stared at your father for a minute as you mull the situation over. You can feel Natasha tugging at the ends of your shirt from behind. “I give you my word,” you said softly. Your father grinned so hard, Clint wondered how his face hasn’t split in half. 

“Very well.” You father stepped aside to let Natasha and Clint passage. 

You looked at Clint before the guy was practically dragging Natasha to the door. You didn’t dare look away from your father. You know him too well to trust his words. You know that it can’t be that easy. True to his nature, you watched in slow motion as he pulled out his dagger from under his tunic, and right when Natasha has her back on your father, he made a move to stab her. You teleported yourself behind Natasha, catching your father’s dagger between your chest cavity.

Natasha gasped and yelled. Her knees buckled as she watches you bleed out. She tried to come back to you but Clint stopped her by wrapping his arms around her torso.

You caught Clint’s eyes. “Run,” you mouthed and Clint carried Natasha out of his own building.

***

Finding you wasn’t as hard as Natasha thought it would be. You’ve always had the affinity towards the altitude. So, it was no surprise to Natasha when she found you on the top floor of the Empire State Building, legs dangling on the side of the building. She didn’t announce herself, she knew you well enough to know that you know she was there. She just stood there quietly watching your back for a minute, trying to figure out what she’s feeling exactly.

She missed you. If there was a God, and if Natasha believed in Him, He would know that Natasha has missed you for the last decade that she hasn’t seen you. She misses you so much but she’s also confused. She thought you were dead for a decade but there you are, in front of her, alive and well. She’s getting frustrated and angry too.

“Hey, Tasha. Long time, no see.” She can hear the teasing in your voice but this time, she can’t think it’s cute and funny. Your smile dropped when you heard her grit her teeth.

“I thought you were dead.”

You frowned at the New York City skyline. “I was,” you answered simply. Natasha knew you weren’t exactly human by your ungodly ability in combat, and ability to heal quickly but she didn’t know you were almost immortal. She didn’t know about the Lazarus pit, as well. So, you started your brief explanation with that.

“Why didn’t you find me then?” You can hear the hurt in her voice, as clear as a summer sky. “You broke your promise.”

You gripped the ledge of the Empire State Building too tight, your knuckles turned white. “I did not.”

“Liar,” she spat out.

“I found you, multiple times.” It was your turn to grit your teeth in an attempt to reign in your rising anger. “But it wasn’t the right time.”

She was about to call you out on your bullshit but you turned around and faced her. “The first time I found you, you were with Bruce at Clint’s ranch house.” You crinkled your nose at the memory of her looking so beautiful and soft that morning, wearing a robe, and standing toe-to-toe with Bruce Banner. By the look on her face, you know that she remembers the day too.

“That’s not -” she tried to defend herself but you cut her off. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You chuckled mirthlessly. “I had a plan. Until it was finished, it wasn’t the right time.”

“Is it done?” Natasha couldn’t hide the hope in her voice even if she tries. “Is that why you’re back now?”

You only stared at her for a minute. You wish so bad that you could cross the small distance and kiss her senseless but you had to remind yourself that she’s dating someone else. “It has been done. It took a while to be strong enough to kill my father but it is done.”

“You what?”

“I killed my father, and disbanded the league to ensure no one will ever stand in the way of us ever again.” You frowned deeper. In the end, you have lost her to Captain Marvel anyway. “I killed my father to keep you safe and imagine my anger when I found out you came to fucking space and sacrificed yourself for mankind.”

Even with only the city lights illuminating your face, Natasha knows you’re about to cry. So, she finally closed the distance and pulled you in her arms. And try as you might, your body couldn’t stop itself from melting in her arms after not being home for so long.

“I’m here now,” she tried to comfort you.

“Of course you are.”

Natasha pulled back a little to look at you closely. “You didn’t come to Vormir, did you?”

You rolled your teary eyes at her like she should know the answer to that. “I can live in a world where you’re not in love with me but not in a world without you in it.”

Natasha wiped your tear-stained face. “I was never in love with someone else.”

#drabble #mini series #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow imagine #scarlett johansson imagine #cheating death series #cheating death #raven writes

[catandguitarsnugglingonthecouch]

Endometriosis - What's that?

And why do I write about it? Because I have it. It's a chronic disorder, it's painful, only women can get it and it often goes unnoticed by doctors for YEARS. It's another prime example for the way women are treated as inferior in medicine. I know, because that's what happened to me.

When my first menstruation started, I was scared, because nobody had told me what to expect. There was blood coming out of my body and my own mother didn't explain to me why and how, she said: 'Congrats, you're becoming a woman.' Gave me some panty liners... And that was that.

This happened before the internet, so there wasn't much help to find. Next week I took the bus to the next bigger city, went to the library and tried to find some reading material about what was happening to me. I was 11 years old.

Around a year later, the first cramps started, when I got my period. I tried to talk about it with my mother. She brought me to her gynecologist, an old man with a white beard. I told him, that I had painful cramps, that sometimes I vomited because of the pain and that I was afraid.

He told me, not to be so dramatic, that 'every woman has some pain during menstruation', looked me over, gave me some pain meds. And that was that. Again. An authoritative person not explaining anything, this time even 'gaslighting' my younger self. I was 12 years old then.

When I was 16, the pain during menstruation and in the days before, had become so severe, that I passed out from it, nearly ever month. I was deeply afraid of my own body, and still had nobody to talk to about it. Needless to say, I was a late bloomer. I just couldn't understand how other girls could even *think* about sex, when everything related to my genitals was connected to pain.

When I was 18, I had my own car, could make my own decisions, and one of the first things I did, was finding me a new gynecologist. The first one I talked to hit on me. Till this day, I can't believed that really happened. There was this attractive young doc, sitting on the other side of his desk, asking about my sex life. After telling him, that there was no such thing, he told me he couldn't believe that, as I was such a pretty young woman. Maybe he should get a coffee with me? I left, silently fuming. After that, I didn't go to a gyn for a very loooong time.

I eventually started dating, had a partner, went steady. But the pain never went away. It got worse. My partner gently tried to help me, tried to get me to see another gynecologist. I tried, but I wasn't overly enthusiastic. I found a new one. Again, a man. I was a bit nervous about this, but this one was finally able to help me. I was 30 years old then.

My new gyn got me into a local research program at the University hospital. An all female research program! I went there twice a month, before and after my period. They took some blood samples and I wrote a menstruation diary, to pin the heights of the cramps and pains.

After a year of probing and diary writing they told me, it was very likely that I had endometriosis. I've never heard or read about this. [Endometriosis is a chronic disorder that usually affects the pelvic cavity and can cause severe pain during sex and menstruation. It most commonly occurs when tissue begins to grow outside the uterus, forming lesions that cause pain and inflammation.] They explained everything, very in depth, and said that a surgery could help reduce the pain. But that even that would not stop the endometriosis from coming back after some years. I did not need to think about it, I said 'Yes, please!'

After the operation, I felt so happy. Even recovering from the surgery wasn't as bad as my monthly pains.

Shortly after my surgery, I got pregnant. My partner and I were so excited and happy. We had tried for some time now, not knowing that endometriosis could lead to infertility. I was 34 when my first child was born.

Now I'm a mother of two wonderful daughters and I've sworn myself, that they will not have to suffer the same ignorance and coldness I had to endure. I will tell them all there is to know, will believe them when they tell me about pains and sorrows and will gently lead them in the right direction if needed.

If you suffer from pain and cramps during your menstruation, don't let anybody tell you how you have to feel about your body. It's yours! You alone can and should decide about it! People will try to tell you otherwise, don't listen to them. The pain during menstruation with endometriosis can be as severe as through giving birth or having a heart attack. Find yourself gentle people in this world, doctors who want to help, they are out there, I promise. Even if it takes you some time, it's worth it.

(The endometriosis is back now, but it's nowhere as intense as before my surgery so many years ago, still happy about it.)

#endometriosis #personal story #medicine #gynecology #Get yourself the help you need #self responsibility #Pain #Don't let anybody tell you what to feel